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#feels weird sharing sketches here before the piece is finished
stellorc · 2 years
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wip time!!!!!
Have a couple of sketches I'm doing between commissions.
Recently I've been trying to use value and shapes for my sketches to not rely so much on lines only. It's fun to see the lighting take shape right at the start, though it can get messy so fast.
At the left, you have a Jesra with a very high contrast. Lots of dramatic lighting. The other is my beloved Gwen with my attempt to compress my value range. The urge to slap some dark tones there is strong, however it would probably kill the, uh, ambience. There's so many things I want to learn about lighting and 'camera' angles, but I don't feel overwhelmed like I did before.
Also I'm currently on a dragon age kick. More than usual, that is. Maybe I'll be brave enough and share my self indulgent sketches here. Once I actually do them ofc, my hands cannot keep up with my brain.
Anyway, I also want to thank everyone for the amazing support!! I wish I could express how incredibly happy I get from the lovelies responses i receive. It's disgusting honestly. Makes me feel like the luckiest bean alive. Maybe I am, considering the wonderful friends I have wink wink.
take care folks <3
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dvrtrblhr · 4 months
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hii! sorry if this is weird, but i super love your art, it's so inspiring ^▽^ have you ever posted any speedpaints before? i struggle figuring out the process in my own art so i like looking at other artists process.. but only if you want to ♡
Thanks a lot! Also I don't think it's weird at all. It makes me super happy to know others are inspired by my art!
I'm supposing you mean speedpaint as in video of my painting process? If it is so, I do post them every once in a while in my instagram account (I'm babittia there). They are just the timelapses generated by procreate, there's no voice over or anything.
I can post some here if others find it interesting. Here is the timelapse for my last Mercedes portrait:
I think my process is usually like this:
Sketch whatever, find reference if needed (like for Mercedes clothes for exemple), correct sketch
Make a second cleaner sketch (or as many as needed to make the pic understandable) - I rarely ever draw a definitive lineart, I just work with my sketch lines and paint over them later if needed
Apply flat colors (sometimes I also add some shadows on another layer using multiply)
Change lines color, merge the human figure (sketch+colors) in one layer, use liquify and transform to 'fix' anything that feels odd
Paint over the sketch, over and over again, until it looks finished (My concept of finished depend a lot on my ambition with the piece I'm working on)
Add rim light and other effects to give it a more unified look
Merge everything and use color balance to make colors pop
Export pic, open it on photoshop on a much bigger screen, correct whatever weirdness I find, use selective color to push the colors even further
It's done!
I hope this is helpful! I honestly don't mind sharing my thoughts on my art process, so feel free to ask me questions about it if you want!
Also feel free to request timelapses of a particular pic. If I made it on procreate, I have it saved (none for my photoshop art, unfortunately :/)
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nekosd43 · 3 months
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so in September I started a huge sketchbook and a discord channel with an extremely small group of friends. I historically have been really bad with sketchbooks, because I never finish them and I don't use them as SKETCH books (my brain tries to make me make every page a finished piece).
The goal was to just draw shit WITHOUT posting it on social media. I was getting too in my head about everything I make needing to be online, and it was making my art suffer I think. Not everything needs to be a finished piece, not everything needs to be shared.
(I did post it to the discord channel so the handful of friends could see it, so I could trick my brain into thinking it wasn't a "worthless" drawing, and they could help encourage me to keep going. it's worked really well, I've gotten way more comfortable drawing without feeling like I MUST show it to the entire world)
I'm actually on pace to probably finish this sketchbook within a month or two, which is INSANE for me I usually take forever before abandoning it eventually. And while not every page has something amazing on it, every page DOES have something on it that I'm happy with to some degree because I just let myself Make Stuff. Some of it is weird, some of it is badly drawn, but all of it is honest and fun and part of me.
A part of me is really proud of all the work I've put into it and wants to do one of those Sketchbook Tour videos... but I worry that goes against the thesis of the whole exercise? Like the point was I DON'T have to share it, it's just for me, it didn't need to be a complete piece for internet consumption. But at the same time I'm like... wow! There are hundreds of drawings in here! I did all those! I did all those for FUN and I had fun and I like them! I'm proud of that and I want to share it!!! So I'm butting up against myself on this one.
I've still got 40~ pages to make up my mind about it I guess.
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forffax · 23 days
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🖍️📏☕📚🐻🦋🌊 saur many hehe
WAHH THANK YOU !! ^_^
🖍️ When did you start drawing? Do you remember?   literally as long as i can remember! i've still got some of my old drawings from preschool on my walls back home :] 📏 What’s your go-to canvas size? SMALL AS FUCK but not on purpose </3 on my phone rn i've been doodling on a 1200x1800ish canvas... but also i draw so small and i loove using the single pixel pencil in paint so most of my finished stuff ends up smaller than 1000x1000 skjdfgsk. ☕ Do you do warmup sketches before drawing? (Bonus: do you have any to share?) sometimes! don't usually make an effort to do any but i'll sometimes doodle a bunch of things before i settle on cleaning one thing up if i do dfkjshk. heres a hiro i never posted from the same canvas as the saturn i drew the other day :]
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📚 How many layers do you typically use? usually just 1-2, sometimes 3 if i feel like throwing some weird lighting or effects on a piece ^_^ (or none if im in paint sdjfkgsdkf). typically just lines then a multiply layer under em for colors, and then a multiply brush if i wanna shade... 🐻 Your go-to things to draw when you need comfort? Hirooooo every time <3 or just an assortment of vagues. vague is kinda my go-to just in general if i wanna draw but have no idea what to do </3 🦋 Do your drawings resemble you? dunno! i definitely like. use my own body as a reference very frequently but I don't know how well that reflects in my art.... i do draw a lot of bulky hairy dudes skdjfgs 🌊 What’s the hardest thing for you to draw?  i definitely need to get better at like. geometric shapes. robots. hands and feet. knees and elbows. those things in particular give me trouble </3 i'm very on and off on how i feel about my ability to draw hands sjdkfs
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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."
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Alone Together
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Summary: After an awful breakup you were expecting to spend Christmas alone. You and Steve end up spending it together.
Pairings: tattoo artist!Steve Rogers x Sam Wilson sister!reader. Abusive ex boyfriend!Brock Rumlow x reader
Warning: mentions of abusive relationship, smut, swearing, daddy kink, squirting, creampie, unprotected sex
Tagging: @titty-teetee @blackmissfrizzle @olyvoyl @liquorlaughslove @harrysthiccthighss @mariahthelioness29 @whiskey-cokenfanfic @olyvoyl @hqneyyincc @queenoftheworldisdead @iam-laiya @donutloverxo @slytherinandoutasgard @zaddychris @brattycherubwrites @love-more122
(A/N: yay I made it! Merry Christmas guys! Reblog always 💜 ✌🏾)
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Okay yeah so it was stupid. You should have known better when you’d done it. Well, you did you just... well you don’t really know what you were thinking.
Red flags just look like flags when you’re wearing rose colored glasses, yeah fuck off you stole that from Bojack. So when you were with your ex and doing all this dumb just you thought would make him happy it ended up being kind of awful in the end.
When they finally came off you noticed the things you dealt with. Scared to piss him off so you started treating okay times like they were really good. All the stupid things he had you do to prove yourself.
You were paying for this one right now. Right in another parlor. Covering up that mistake with something you actually liked. Not that most people could see it because it was on your underboob. Said he wanted it to be this hidden thing all for him that no one else was allowed to see.
The first time he asked you’d laughed and said no thinking it was a joke. The second time you it happened you tried to be a little more firm. Except that just meant you couldn’t prove your love for him. That you were devoted. That he’d get a tattoo for you on his arm that he never had time to get for some reason.
It was so fucking dumb you know. The cursive Brock tattooed right under your boob. You could see it every time you took your shirt off and it really bothered you. It always had, but you were trying to convince yourself that you loved him before. Now you looked at it and saw the new of a person you wished you’d never even met.
Steve was your older brother’s best friend. He ran this super popular tattoo shop. They’d met in the military and the friendship just stuck. It’s kind of why you ended up moving to New York. You were kind of the outcast of the family, but Sam never treated you any different. You were his baby sister.
So after a few weeks you asked him if he could cover it up. Except his only available day was Christmas Eve. You didn’t go home anyway and Sam was going to meet his girlfriend’s parents this year. Not that you weren’t invited, but you just wanted this thing covered up. Maybe that would make you forget.
You winced as the needle dug into your skin. Not like it wasn’t worth the pain. “Hey, relax, okay,” he said, softly rubbing your arm. He’d been so much help since the breakup. It was funny. Brock hated him. Was always ranting about what an asshole he is. You could tell he didn’t like your brother either. You really didn’t know what but you knew it was something over their friend Bucky or whatever.
Yeah it was a whole thing. Not that you really knew the details.
Normally you’d spend the holidays with his family. Though a little uncomfortable it was nice being with him. So this was your first year in three that you were alone. Hanging with Steve was nice.
“I’m fine,” you were trying to keep a brave face.
He was almost done. Just had to finish up the shading. Honestly you’d been expecting him being that close to you to feel weird, but it was actually nice. It’d just be nice if you didn’t date another tattoo artist.
Yeah Brock also tattooed. He’d met Steve because they’d worked at the same shop once. You remember how Brock was seething when he found out that Steve had opened his own.
You wish you could go back in time and tell Leila to never go into that damn shop. To never ask you to go with her because she was nervous for her first tattoo. Somehow it ended up with Brock promising you a discount if you let him tattoo you if you gave him your number. Being a cliche you got a butterfly on your shoulder.
Somehow it didn’t bother you as much. Maybe because it didn’t look like anything resembling him.
“You sure? We can take a break,” he offered.
You shook your head. “No. I’m okay.” You chuckled with a smile.
He chuckled before clicking his tongue. “Alright. Tell me if you want me to stop.”
“How’s your mom’s trip?” You asked. His mother had decided to vacation to Hawaii with his step-dad. Which is also why he was here. Not that he couldn’t have went with Nat and Bucky to his parent’s house. Except last time he’d done that, he ended up having to sleep next to Bucky’s incredibly touchy aunt. He was better off spending it alone.
“She’s great. Talked to her this morning.” He chuckled, “apparently she’s bringing me back a Hawaiian shirt.”
“You could pull it off.” You replied trying not to laugh too much.
“You think so?” He asked.
“Yeah just keep it unbuttoned and don’t wear a shirt under.”
He stopped to laugh. “What’s that supposed to mean.”
“I dunno. Just doing a service for the girls,” you said. “Don’t act like you don’t know that you’re cute.”
He licked his lips, narrowing his eyes. “Why Miss. Wilson, you’re not flirting with me are you?”
You laughed and shook your head. “No. Just... stop. You know you’re hot.”
His jaw dropped as he grin. “Now you think I’m hot?”
You sighed dramatically. “Look, Steve. I’m just joking.”
He went back to work with this kind of goofy look on his face. You couldn’t deny it. Steve is hot. Anyone with eyes could see that. Your eyes traced along his tattooed forearms. The sleeves of his flannel pushed up to elbows. Until you were distracted by his broad shoulders.
Your mind finally started to relax. Kind of enjoying the buzzing of the gun. You kind of missed that sound you loved going to the shop with a Brock while he worked.
Your only days off were weekends and since he usually had shit to do on those days, you’d be there while he worked. Sometimes even helping out when their secretary was out.
“And, done,” he said taking a deep breath and smiling down at his work before turning off the machine. “How you feelin?’” He grabbed your hand to help you to your feet.
“Well, a little sore, but good.”
You turned to look at it. Smiling at the flowers that were there now. “It’s beautiful,” you said, looking at Steve before throwing your arms around his neck. “Thank you so much.”
“Hey,” he pulled away to rub your arms, “I got you.”
He was so close, eyes trained on your lips. So you started wondering maybe this was why Brock hated Steve. Saw how magnetic he was that he could definitely pull you in.
That couldn’t have been it, though. Brock never saw you with him alone. His dislike went much deeper than you. Today had kind of added insult to injury. Not only did you cover up that thing, but he was the one to do it. It’d be a slap in the face.
Maybe that’s why you did it. Except you’d always liked Steve’s work. You’d seen so many pieces he did or sketches he made and had wanted him to work on you for the longest. Maybe next time it would be something you didn’t need to cover up.
Your phone went off and you groaned softly pulling away. “Hey, Sam,” you greeted your brother. Of course it had to be him of all people.
Looking back over at his best friend who was cleaning up the station now. It was probably a good thing because your heart had started to thump in your chest. You didn’t need that.
You raised your shirt up so you could see it finally. “Just calling to check up on you. Steve’s lazy ass taking a break? I don’t hear buzzing in the back.”
“We just finished actually.” You laughed.
“How’d it come out?”
“Good,” you answered. “Tell Maya I said hi.”
You finished talking to Sam before finally hanging up. When you finally looked at your new tattoo, a smile grew on your face. It looked so much better than before. “Like it?” Steve asked.
“I love it,” you replied. You grabbed your bag so you could pay him.
“Um, excuse me, Miss,” he said. “Your money is no good here.”
“What? I’m not going to have you do all this work and not pay you, Stevie.”
He sighed. “Think of it as a Christmas present.”
You rolled your eyes still taking your money out. “I can’t-“
“I’m not taking it,” he pressed.
“Fine at least let me give you a tip.”
“I’m not taking that either.” He smirked.
You rolled your eyes. For such a nice boy he was always so stubborn. “Fine. Then... dinner. I’ll make dinner. If we’re spending Christmas alone then it might be fun to spend it together.”
He smiled softly. “Yeah... that sounds nice.”
“Great.” You looked into his eyes again. They were like the prettiest blue ever. Especially with those little specks of green.
After a trip to the store, he escorted you back to the apartment you shared with your brother. You could have moved out, but you were kind of afraid to live alone. That’s why Sam had been a little surprised that you’d declined the invitation to go with him. It was nice to have Steve there.
You’d decorated the apartment even though you hadn’t planned to do anything. You still wanted to be a little festive. Maybe it would pull you into a better mood. It worked a little.
You quickly started on dinner. Steve helped by cutting up vegetables. He’d taken off his sweater letting his incredibly muscular tattooed arms taunt you. Okay so yeah you had a little bit of a crush on him. Like a lot of other women, you just liked to look.
“Thanks for dinner,” Steve said, taking a sip of his wine. “I don’t get home cooked meals a lot.”
“Can’t cook?” You asked with a smirk.
“Yeah I’m pretty hopeless at it.” He shrugged.
“So do you want to watch Christmas movies after this?” You asked.
He laughed. “Yeah that’d be nice.”
The night was going by kind of quick as you settled down to watch A Christmas Story. You were a little tipsy honestly, but you and Steve were sharing a fluffy blanket. Which meant he was close.
You’d carefully showered so you didn’t get your tattoo wet and changed into a sweater shirt and s pair of matching shorts. Getting all bundled up so you could curl up beside him. “You look so warm.” He chuckled as he got a little closer.
“Do you need an extra blanket?” You asked.
“No I’m okay,” he replied.
“Can I ask you something?” You asked because the thought had crossed your mind again. This time you’d finally worked up the nerve to ask.
“Why don’t you and Brock like each other?” You asked.
He sighed. “You’re not the first person I’ve had to save from him. He and Bucky used to be close and I noticed him kind of spiraling. Rumlow was pumping him full of all of these drugs and I dunno I didn’t want to lose my friend.”
Your stomach started to turn. This was the first time you’d ever heard of any of this. “Why didn’t any of you tell me?”
“I wanted to, but Sam said we needed to let you make your own mistakes. To not push you away. There were so many times that I thought about... look I just know that I’m never letting him hurt you again. Okay?”
You nodded, biting your lip. This glazed over look in your eyes. Steve noticed and pulled you closer pretty much placing you in his lap.
“Hey, it’s okay, Honey.” He rubbed your back. Trying to at least comfort you a little.
“No I’m fine,” you replied leaning into him. The soft fabric of his jeans rubbed against your bare legs. It was nice to have him comfort you like this. “You know I think the worst thing to me is that and I’m sorry if this is too much information, but he’d use Sam against me. Say that if I didn’t do what he wanted he’d tell Sam about the things we did in bed.”
Steve sighed. “You know he wouldn’t have cared.”
“I know, but it still felt embarrassing. He knew how secretive I was about it. None of my friends even know the kind of things I’m into.” You took a deep breath, trying to relax because you felt way more tense than you wanted to.
He chuckled. Trying to lighten the mood. “I get it. I used to be the same way until my last girlfriend put it all out there when we broke up.”
You laughed. “Oh yeah I remember that.”
“Yeah. She was something else.” He tossed his head back as he laughed. “One night she came to the shop, talking about how she’d let me tie her up one more time.”
“Brock used to say stuff like ‘come on, Babygirl, do what Daddy says or else I’ll tell your brother what you’re up to.’ It used to grate on my nerves.”
“God. What a fucking asshole,” he said, hoping you didn’t notice when he felt himself get suddenly hard at hearing you say that.
“Yeah, but I’m so glad this thing is covered.”
“Yeah. Glad I could help,” he said with smile. “Shit do you mind actually if I take a picture of it? For Instagram.”
You nodded. “Yeah that’s fine.”
He took his phone out of his pocket while you laid down across his lap, rolling your sweatshirt up so that it was exposed. “Perfect,” he said as he snapped the picture the flash making you close your eyes all tight, making you move your hand so you could rub your eye.
Making your entire breast become exposed. “Shit,” you said, pushing it back down as you sat back up. Your eyes connected to his again and that’s when he kissed you.
You didn’t hesitate to do it back. Your mouth moving against his ever so softly. Like the two of you were afraid to really do what you want, but also didn’t want to pull away. Until he finally started to deepen it.
You stroked his beard as he held onto you tightly. You came to straddle his lap as he cupped your ass. He started to lay you back.
Your phone interrupted you, making you jump away. You scrambled to pick it up. “Hello?”
“Hey. Just checking on you,” Sam’s voice came through.
“Oh. I’m fine, Sam.” You took looked over at Steve who closed his eyes and stood up.
“Is Steve with you?”
“Yeah he walked me home,” you said. “Actually I have to go I’m going to shower.”
“Okay. Text me before bed.”
“Okay.”
Steve was gathering up his things to leave by the time you got off your phone. You watched him move around. He shrugged his coat on. “I’m just gonna head out.”
“Yeah...” you pursed your lips.
He licked his lips. “I, um, I’m sorry. I don’t know what came over me... I-“
“No. It’s okay,” you replied taking a deep breath. “I’ll walk you out.”
He nodded. “Okay.”
You watched as he walked away heading towards the elevator. You still couldn’t believe that happened. Lips tingling from the way he kissed you. Apart of you was cursing Sam from ruining your moment.
Another part of you was kind of happy that he did because as much as you hated it, Brock still had this hold over you. It wasn’t that you felt guilty. It was more like you were afraid of what would happen if he found out.
God, you wish he didn’t have this hold on you. You were starting to close the door when Steve came back. This time he didn’t stop himself as he kissed you. Or picked you up, kicking the door shut behind him. Didn’t stop himself as he carried you to your room.
He laid you down on your bed, getting on top of you. You wrapped your legs around his waist. Trying to be as close to him as possible. Fuck he felt so good on top of you.
Scratching at his muscular shoulders. He pulled your top off first. Exposing your tits. His mouth went to them as he tried to avoid your tattoo. He swirled his tongue around your nipple.
You whimpered, biting your lip as you looked down at him. He’d switched to the other one to give it the same treatment. “So fucking beautiful.” He started kissing down your body so he could take off your shorts and panties. He kissed along your thighs, still looking into your eyes as he parted them.
Before he could put his mouth on your pussy, he went back up. Kissing you again. “Is this okay?” He asked resting his forehead to yours.
You nodded, reaching out so you could start undoing the buttons of his flannel. He helped you, pressing his lips to yours again. This time he put his tongue in your mouth.
Kissing him was different than Brock. Steve’s lips seemed to mold with yours better. There was this feeling in the pit of your stomach that felt like it was about to burst, but like you wanted it to. You really shouldn’t be comparing them, but Steve was making you feel so good and you were kicking yourself from having missed out on this as you wasted your time.
He pushed his shirt off his body then undid his pants. Sliding them down his legs along with his underwear. He got back on top for you, kissing your neck. Leaving little nibbles and sucking on your skin like he knew your body already. “Daddy,” you cried out, then sat up when you realized what you said opening your mouth to apologize.
“Oh yeah, Baby. You want me to be your daddy?” He asked, going back between your legs. “Want to be a dirty girl for me only?”
You nodded suddenly feeling drunk off of his words. Never did you think in a million years that Steve would be talking to you like this. He was getting you so wet just from that. He started licking your clit first.
Your eyes rolled to the back of your head as he feasted on you. Pussy juices making a mess on his beard. “Yes,” you gasped out as he started to finger you at the same time.
That same bursting feeling in your stomach was getting intense. You cried out for him as you felt yourself reach your peek. You grabbed his hair, grinding your pussy against his face.
You took a deep breath as you tried to sit up, but he put a hand on your stomach to hold you still. “I’m not done.” He growled. “Hold still while Daddy makes you cum, Honey.”
You nodded bracing yourself as he went back to eating you out. It didn’t take long for him to bring you to another orgasm or another one after that. When he was done he kissed you, making you taste your juices on him.
As you made out again he went back to rubbing your cunt. “I’m gonna make you feel so good,” he said. “Gonna make you cum over and over again. Gonna take care of you.”
“Oh god yes,” you whimpered.
“Fuck I don’t have any condom,” he said, as he’d started to line himself up with your entrance.
“It’s okay,” you said. “I’m on birth control.”
He licked his lips. “Yeah?”
You nodded. “Yeah. I want you so bad, Daddy.”
He grinned as he kissed you softly. “I want to know your safe word first, Honey. Just in case.”
“Strawberry.”
He kissed your forehead, then your nose, and then your lips. He pushed into you as your tongues came into contact. Your tongues carassing against each other.
You stretched around him and you started to understand why he’d spent so much time eating you out. Fuck he was thick. You stretched around him looking into his eyes. “It’s okay,” he whispered into your lips. “I’ve got you.”
“It’s too much!” You cried.
“You can take it, Honey,” he kissed you again. “Be a good girl and take Daddy’s dick.”
He started fucking into you a little harder. You could feel yourself leaking around his dick. He’d really worked you up first even if he was still too damn thick for your pussy.
You scratched his back, biting his shoulder. He was thrusting so deep. You don’t think you’d ever been fucked this deep before. You’d definetly never been stretched open like this.
“Right there! Don’t stop!” You begged as he started fucking into your spot. “I’m fucking cumming!”
“That’s it, Honey. Cum for me.” He groaned because your pussy was so tight. Especially as you came. You were tightening around him and if he wasn’t so determined to give you a few more he would have let go inside of you.
“Oh, fuck, Daddy!” You cried. He didn’t let up. Fucking you through it.
“Nasty girl, squirting for me,” he said getting on his knees so he could watch you.
“Oh god!” You didn’t stop. Your pussy gushing around him. He bent your legs back with his hands on the back of your thighs. Watching his cock all slick anytime he’d pull out only to push back into you.
He chuckled as it happened again. Your eyes all clouded over as you came again just like that last time. More juices squirting out of you.
“Please,” you said, but didn’t know why.
“What do you want me to do, Baby?” He asked.
You couldn’t say anything back because you were to far gone. Thoughts had officially left your head. All you knew was him and the he was fucking you so damn good. Still pressing into your spot.
“Fuck you’re gonna make me cum,” he hissed, getting back on top of you with his bicep wrapped around your thigh so he could keep you spread open. He kissed you again this time deeper. Fucking your mouth with his tongue.
You moaned into him and thrusts became to falter as he started to pump you full of his cum. He thrusted into you deep as he gave you every bit of it. Wanting to completely fill you up with him.
He laid on top of you trying to catch his breath. You were panting underneath him. Not even wanting him to move because he was so warm. You buried your head into his neck.
It took you a minute to come down from your highs. He smiled down at you, kissing you softly. “Hi.”
“Hi.”
“You okay? I didn’t hurt you did I?”
You shook your head, already closing your eyes because you were so comfortable like this. “I’m great.”
He chuckled. “That’s what I like to hear.”
You smiled lazily as he finally rolled off of you. He brought you close to him, kissing your nose again. “Stay with me.”
“There’s literally no other place I’d rather be,” he said.
You’d spent all night messing around. Taking little cat naps in between. Right now he had you on your stomach as he fucked you from behind. You never expected to spend your holiday with him, but now you couldn’t picture spending it with anyone else.
You hadn’t even thought about your ex and the meltdown he’d have if he knew about this. It was nice feeling so free. Especially as Steve’s tattooed arms wrapped around you from behind.
Hints of daylight had started to break through the slits of your curtain. He chuckled. “Merry Christmas,” he whispered into your ear as he didn’t even let up the way he was fucking into you.
“Merry Christmas, Daddy,” you whimpered.
He kissed the back of your shoulder. “Gonna spend Christmas letting me make you my girl?”
You nodded trying to peek up at him over your shoulder with a smile. “Your girl?”
“After this I’m not letting you go,” he said, kissing your cheek from behind. “We might need to make this a tradition.”
“I like the sound of that.”
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sparkling-moonbeam · 3 years
Text
Xiao x Reader (Genshin Impact)                 🍀A Subject🍀
A/N: It’s been a while since I posted something so here’s a Xiao one. Sorry, it took a while but I’ll try me best to write more since vacation is now here. Reader is gender-neutral. Hope you enjoy reading!
🍀💐🍀🍀💐🍀🍀💐🍀🍀💐🍀🍀💐🍀🍀💐🍀🍀💐🍀🍀💐🍀🍀💐
Black smokes and a pair of golden eyes. It’s the first thing that caught your eye as you arrived in the rooftop of the Wangshu Inn, a place that the traveler recommended on you as you told them you’re planning to go to Liyue, looking for a subject to sketch. The traveler warned you on the dangers you might encounter, making sure to remind you to call a friend of theirs in times of great danger and when you try to questioned it:
“He knows what to do. He’s an adeptus, a protector of Liyue,” they stated.
“Like a Knight of Favonious?” you questioned.
“You can say that…except the fact he works directly for their archon and really held great responsibility for the duties that the Geo archon laid upon him,” they explained further. “Oh and, please don’t forget to call him in case of danger. His name is-”
“Xiao.”
You uttered, staring into his golden eyes. You notice the black smokes surrounding him, you don’t know if it’s the effect of the teleportation he used or something else. You also take note of the spear he’s holding, the color same with the tips of his upfront hair. The once peaceful feeling on the terrace suddenly disappearing as the intense tension in the air completely evaporated it.
“How do you know my name?” He questioned, eyes squinting in suspicion. “You don’t seem like a citizen here. State your business.”
You blinked, “I-I’m from Mondstadt, I’m a friend of the traveler that-”
“The traveler, you say?”
As soon as he heard that, his whole demeanor changed. The black smokes slowly disappearing into thin air, clearing the whole tension that build up earlier. His grip on the spear relaxing a bit as he continues to inspect you.
“Did they send you here?”
His eyes remained looking at you carefully, maybe taking notes of your actions and what you might be up to. If not for mentioning the traveler, you might be in great danger now. Thank the Archons, the traveler warned you and lend you their knowledge for this trip.
“Not…exactly.” You answered, smiling slightly as you try to explain your reason. “You see, I came here because I need a new subject-”
“For what?”
“…Sketching an art. The traveler just assisted me on the things I should know before going here. They told me about you and to call you if ever I face something..really dangerous?”
He didn’t move an inch after your explanation. His lips remained in a straight line as he stared at you, processing your words before flipping his spear into the air which quickly disappeared in a blink. The movement making you flinch a little.
“The traveler’s right. In any case that you face something dangerous ahead, call my name. I’ll take care of it.”
He turned his back at you, looking at the view on the terrace as if scrutinizing every place around the inn. You watched as the wind blew, his hair dancing with it as the leaves on the tree fell into the terrace. You gently tiptoed to the side, not really going near him as it might put you in a bad situation. The sun reflecting half of his face add effects on what you were witnessing just right now. His gold eyes looking seriously but also faraway. You notice how the tips of his hair and his eyes seems to glow, you thought it might be because of the shade of the tree and the sun. His pale lips never moving an inch, remaining still like before.
You were too busy taking notes of everything you’re seeing. It’s perfect, way too perfect, in all honestly. The timing, the lighting and him, it’s pretty. A beautiful sight that you’re actually witnessing right now. A smile escaped your lips as you were taken in by the view. Fascinating.
“What are you still doing here?”
You blinked as he took a glance at you. All of your thoughts moving away for a second. Your smile turning into an awkward one as you thought he caught you looking too intensely at him.
“N-Nothing.” You tried to laugh, fixing your gaze into his gold orbs. “I just…really wanted to stay for a while. I mean, the scenery here is breathe taking like really breathe taking.”
He blinked slightly, confusion filling his eyes as he continued to look at you. You’re being weird in his eyes; your actions are too baffling for him. “You should go somewhere. Liyue has more places to offer with breath taking views. Don’t come near me as it might bring you in danger.”
Your head tilted in confusion, looking at him with a blank stare. “I don’t get it.”
“What?”
“I mean, you told me to call you whenever there’s danger and yet you threat yourself as a danger too. Aren’t you the protector of this city, Liyue?”
He scoffed. “You know there’s different kind of protectors, right?”
“Oh, so you mean like a vigilant or something. You’re like that?” you questioned; your voice fills with curiosity.
“Yes. Now, stay away-”
“But still, you’re just doing your duty right?” You cut him off unexpectedly. “Regardless of how evil or dangerous your actions are in your eyes, at the end of the day, it’s for the safety of the people here.”
He looked away, “You don’t get it, it’s much more complicated than that.”
You smiled, sitting down as you grab your sketching materials from your bag. “Can you explain it to me then?”
He sighed, “It’s something hard to-”
He stopped as soon as he saw you sitting down, a brush and a piece of paper in front of you as you were surrounded by brushes. At first, he was confused at what you were doing then it hits him.
“Are you secretly just keeping me distracted by talking to me?”
You hummed, glancing at him. “Not really, I’m curious too but I won’t pass any opportunity to sketch something…remarkable.”
“You’re wasting your time. Like what I said, there’s a whole lot of places than-”
“Say, can I…interest you into something?”
He looked at you in confusion. His eyes eyeing your brushes and other materials on the floor. You’re cutting his words, usually it was him that always cut someone off. It’s amusing, he thought but you’re being bizarre on your actions as time goes by. It’s not unusual for him to find a really determined and hard-headed mortals and you give off the same aura, except that you’re not begging him to give you wealth or something.
“Hello?” He snapped to reality as he heard your voice. You smiled as his eyes meet yours. “Are you okay?”
He closed his eyes; you should be no exception still. A mere mortal like you can’t get close too much to him or you’ll suffer, sooner and later.
“Get all of your stuff and leave.”
You lean back to the railings of the terrace, a sad smile forming your lips as you sighed. “Don’t I really stand a chance?”
“I told you, no.”
“Even if you’re the subject?”
His eyebrows knitted. “What? Do you really think that would make a difference?”
You chuckled. “Look, I’m trying. I’m not a good persuader like the traveler.”
He sighed, “You’re hopeless.”
A laughter escaped your lips on his remark. He looked at you as you laugh. He was never one for jokes, that meant to be an insult, he thought. Why are you laughing so light-heartedly? He wanted to ask you but you seem like you’re really having your time laughing and for some reason, he don’t want to disturb you. It’s the first time someone laughed at his comment with no any sign of malicious intent or hurt.
“Alright, I’m fine.” You fix yourself, fixing your throat for a second to stop yourself from laughing. “But seriously, don’t you wanted to see yourself in-”
“I’m not interested. A common behaviour of mortals like you was to always look for something priceable. I assumed you’re just going to sell it in high price anyway.”
You gasped in exaggeration, clutching your heart in a jokingly manner as you look at him. “That’s a very harmful stereotype to the people out there!”
“It was a normal act for mortals,” he deadpanned.
You hummed, “I mean, you’re not entirely wrong…”
“Because it’s what they are.”
You looked at the sky, thinking about what he said. “Say, do you have some deep grudge against these mortals?”
“Don’t call them like you’re not a part of them,” he stated.
You pouted. “I’m just asking.”
“Stop asking then.”
A sigh escaped your lips. “I don’t really sell some of my works, I only sell paintings or sketches of sceneries. It’s different when it’s personal.”
“Personal?”
“Something that really caught my eye, you know. Like what they said, beauty is in the eye of the beholder. Whenever I see those moments, I keep them or sometimes I gave them to the people I shared the memories with. So…”
You looked at him, a warm smile on your lips. “I’ll give it to you once I’m done.”
He turned to you with a puzzled look, “What benefit is there for you then?”
“Connection with different people.”
“You should get close too much-”
“I know. Just let me sketch you and the scenery, then we’re finished,” you stated.
“Will you keep-”
“It’s a deal. I will keep those words.”
He looked at you intently as he tried to decipher your mind but no matter how he tried to looked at you, his curiosity just eats him more. You’re a weird one, he wanted to tell you but instead he kept it in his mind. He has a feeling you’ll just laugh again anyways.
He looked away. “Fine, just do it quickly.”
You cheered before picking up your brush again. “If I do it quickly, I won’t caught it perfectly.”
“You’re the one who wanted this,” he stated.
You pursed your lips. “It’s not my fault if I found my subject earlier than I anticipated.”
He glanced at you for a second before returning his gaze to the scenery ahead of him. He took note of the orange hue of the sky and the cold breeze of the wind. He closed his eyes as a thought entered his mind.
Maybe he can let this one slide.
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johnsamericano · 3 years
Text
𝓓𝓪𝔂 19:
ℓιυ уαиgуαиg
23 days of NCT masterlist.
taglist: @notbeforelong @whathamelon @curieouscapt @unknown5tar @mrcarbonatedmilk @silent-potato @ajhdr @gjheaaa
warnings: an extreme plot twist 😭, things escalate way too quickly, a bit of angst, this is so weird I’m sorry.
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“Welcome.”
You heard your coworker greet someone as you finished giving the final touches to the tattoo you’d been working on for a few weeks.
“Dang, Sungchan. You’re gonna look hella fine with this.” You wiped off the remains of ink over his skin, getting up from your little stool to admire your job from afar. “Wanna take a look?”
“Hell yeah.” The tall boy straightened his back, walking towards the full-body mirror to look at the daisies decorating his bicep. “My girlfriend’s gonna love it, thanks y/n.”
“No prob.” You covered the tattoo before biding him goodbye.
As you ordered your materials, you heard the doorbell ring. Assuming it was Sungchan leaving the shop, you didn’t pay much attention to it.
“Y/n, come here!” Your coworker and friend, Xiaojun, shouted from the front desk.
“Coming!”
As you exited the room, an innocent looking boy invaded your vision. A big, black hoodie shielded his body from the winter cold, making his body look tiny inside of it.
“He wants a tattoo.” He lifted his pierced eyebrows, as if the boy’s request was some sort of joke.
“Hi, I’m y/n.” You extended your hand, allowing him to shake it vigorously. “Do you have any idea of what you’d like to get done...?”
“Yangyang.” He completed your sentence, an oddly wide smile imprinted on his face. “I actually have a picture of what I want.” He pulled out his phone from his pocket, unlocking it to show you the image of a beautiful woman smiling.
“Are you sure about it? It’s gonna take a while to finish it and I’m sure it won’t be painless.”
He blinked a couple of times before giving you another wide smile.
“I’ll be alright.”
“So I’m booked for the rest of the week, but we can start next Monday if you’re available.” You murmured while taking a look at your agenda. “If you’d like, maybe we can book the rest of your appointments in advance. And you can also send me that image so I can get started on the sketch.”
“That’d be great.”
It wouldn’t be until the next week that you finally saw the languid boy again. He was wearing a black tank top with a leather jacket on top.
“Ready?” You asked while pulling out your gun, Yangyang getting comfortable in his seat. “You can pay now or when we finish, whatever feels best for you.”
“Thank you.” He removed the leather jacket covering his naked arms.
His limbs were slightly built up, but most surprisingly, filled with intricate ink designs. You couldn’t help the small gasp that escaped your mouth, your fingers unconsciously touching the patterns over his fair skin.
“This is amazing.”
He giggled at your excitement, curious eyes gazing at you. Suddenly, you snapped out of your daydreaming.
“Sorry.” You shook your head, pulling out a piece of paper from your desk. “Here’s the sketch, we can change it if you don’t like it.”
“This is perfect, you’re really talented.” His eyes scanned the detailed sketch, smiling back at the drawn woman.
“Thank you.” You rolled up your sleeves, your ink-filled arms on full display. “Let’s get started.”
You spent about an hour in complete silence, only the buzz of your machine filling the room. Yangyang seemed to be handling the pain just fine, which made your job much easier.
“How long have you been doing this?” He asked out of nowhere, trying to start a conversation.
“When I was seventeen maybe.” Your eyebrows were knitted together as you drew shadows over the woman’s eyes. “The guy at the front desk and I opened this shop after deciding neither of us were attending to college. Guess studying wasn’t really our thing.”
“What did your parents say about it?”
“You know, the usual, but they got used to it after a while. They even got a couple tattoo a few months ago.”
“It must be nice having supportive parents.”
“Yeah, it is.”
The room went silent once again. Xiaojun turned on some music, the beat faintly reaching your workspace.
“So who is this woman?”
“My mom. She died from cancer a year ago.” You weren’t expecting him to say something like that so abruptly. Before you could open your mouth, he was resuming his answer. “Please don’t say something like “I’m sorry”, why would you be? It’s not like you knew her.” There was irony in his tone, which made you quite confused.
“Well yeah, but it must be sad for you.”
“She lived her life well, and that’s all that matters.” You hummed. That was a nice way of seeing it. “She actually helped me out a lot when I hit rock bottom a few months after we found out about her disease, even when she was at her deathbed all she did worrying about others.”
‘Why is he telling me this?’
“She must’ve been one heck of a woman.” A breathy laugh erupted from him.
“She was.”
“Well, I think we’re done for today.”
Week after week, Yangyang came back to the shop. The tattoo was turning out amazing and you couldn’t be happier with the results. Yangyang and you grew closer after that small, deep talk during your first session together, even going as far as exchanging phone numbers.
A few late-night conversations later, you were having your first date, which was followed by three more, every single one of them unique in its own way. The last one had taken place at the amusement park, the Ferris wheel serving as the perfect spot to share the sweetest kiss you'd ever received. Maybe it wasn’t very professional of you, but who could resist such a charming guy?
“Hey, y/n.” He greeted you with a small peck on your cheek, his silly smile pressing against your skin. After a small pause, he proceeded to take a seat at his usual spot.
You’d decided to wear a small shirt since the weather was getting warmer. Yangyang’s eyes were uncomfortably glued to your lower abdomen, making your hands clumsy as you prepared your materials.
“You’ve got a scar there.” A pinkish line crossed the right side of your tummy. For a moment, you were scared he’d think it was gross, after all, it wasn’t precisely a small scar, nonetheless, you carried it with pride. You were surprised to see there was no disgust in his look, instead, something you couldn’t really name.
“Didn’t I tell you? I used to have chronic kidney disease. I would’ve died if it weren’t for the transplant I received.” His mouth twitched the slightest, as if he was about to cry. “Are you alright?”
“Yeah, sure, let’s continue with the tattoo.”
Halfway into your work, you felt a small drop of water staining your arm. It was Yangyang, he was desperately squeezing his eyes in an attempt to hold back the tears.
“Are you feeling any pain? I’ll try to be more careful, we’re almost done.” He shook his head. “What is it then, Yangyang?”
He pulled out his wallet, retrieving a pink card and placing it above your hand. As soon as you turned it around, you were met with a name you knew all too well, the name of the person who saved your life.
“How...?” Your words stopped as you realized that certain person and Yangyang shared their last name.
“I remembered your name from when my mom passed. One day, I googled you out of pure curiosity, what I didn’t expect was to actually find you, address and all.” A lonesome tear rolled down his cheek, staining his silver ring as it fell. “My mom would be glad to know her contribution is being used well.”
Your eyes watered at his words, giggling slightly at the odd turn things had taken.
“Thank you.” Your arms engulfed him in a bone-crushing hug. “Thank you so much.” Yanyang couldn't help but let more tears fall, he was finally getting the closure he needed. He could finally let his mom go.
Silently, he thanked his mom for having saved such a beautiful human as you, feeling as if her death hadn't been in vain.
“Crap.” You sniffled, nose adorably scrunching. “Alright, get up.”
You pushed him away from your body, grabbing your coat and swinging it above your shoulders.
“Huh?” Your hand was extended right in front of him, your pretty, pearly teeth on full display as you showed him the sweetest smile ever.
“I’m taking you out for ice cream.”
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hologramband · 3 years
Text
One Day p1
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Alive!Luke x Fem!Reader Modern AU Word Count: 2.6k A/n: hehehe here’s the first part! I have it mostly planned out, there should be 3-4 parts! Lmk what you think! Summary: A shy girl is used to floating under the radar, keeping to herself most of the time, all was well until an opportunity fell into her lap, but what will these new people bring with them?
You were really good at staying right under everyone's radar at Los Feliz. You knew everyone, everyone knew you, but you didn’t have anything more than just a surface relationship with your classmates. You didn’t mind that, it was harder to get hurt this way. You got accepted to the Performing Arts High School with your ability to dance, but have always found your real talent lies within your visual art. Whether you were using paints, pencils, or a pen, you loved the way that your hand flew over the paper and created an image that represented your many different emotions.
In a way it made sense how you loved both dance and drawing, both sharing the flowing of movements to express things that words cannot. It was easier for you to express your emotions and thoughts in these mediums since social connection was hard for you. You had tried it once, really connecting with a person, but it ended up coming back and hurting you, causing you to shut down, so you weren't in a rush to try again any time soon. You floated down the hallways with ease, only having to stop at your locker to grab the remaining textbooks you need for the next few classes. While you were stopped you heard your name called from across the hallway, looking up to see Julie raising her hand in a small wave. “Hey, (y/n)! I like your top!” She came to a stop by your locker smiling. “Thanks! It was my moms, she just found this box of old clothes from when she was in school, this one just really stuck out to me.” You smiled down at yourself and looked back up at the girl to see three boys approaching. You felt heat subtly rise to your cheeks and you tried to focus your eyes on Julie. “Hey Jules, you ready to go to class?” Luke spoke as soon as they reached her side, sending you a nod of acknowledgement when he noticed you standing in front of them. Alex and Reggie both raised their hands with small waves in greeting to you. You smiled in return and turned back to close your locker, swinging your backpack on in the process. “Well, I gotta get to class too, see ya around.” You smiled back at the group and heard Julie call after you. “See you in Art!” You turned slightly and waved in return. Julie and you were pretty decent friends, you talked to her more than anyone else at the school, she had a good balance of how to get to know you without pushing you. You had met the boys a few times in passing, much like the previous occurrence, them not really speaking much more than a ‘hello’ here and there. There was something about Luke though, he never failed to send a storm of butterflies loose in your stomach. He probably didn’t even remember your name, but you could remember all the details of his face, not in a weird way, just in an artistic way, ya know? He had such a coolness about him, like he could totally embarrass himself but brush it off like it was nothing, like he meant to do it even. You thought you were getting better with your anxiety around people, but as soon as that boy was in front of you, it seemed as if your brain forgot how to function. You shook the boy from your thoughts as you continued through your day, classes went by like they typically do, all your general classes like math and english were in the first half of the day, the second half being taken by your dance class and then art. It was simple to say that you much preferred the second half of classes. In dance you went about as normal, running through a few routines and while wrapping up your teacher mentioned something about a new project that would be announced tomorrow. After changing you made your way to your final class where Julie had already arrived and claimed a table for the two of you. “Hi!” she smiled up at you. “Hi! How were your classes today?” You replied, starting a conversation that you hoped would carry throughout the class. You really did like talking with Julie, she was so sweet and really made you feel like she wanted to get to know you. The first day of class she noticed you were sitting alone and she took this as an opportunity to introduce herself, commenting on the particular band tee you had on, being able to strike up a conversation instantly. You admired her for this, the confidence she had when walking in a room was just astounding to you. The two of you went about the class in a way that you similarly would, talking about this and that while sketching away in your respective books, her only pausing to write ideas in her song notebook when an idea would hit. The class you were in didn’t have many actual assignments, just that you needed around 3 small pieces turned in periodically and one larger one for your final at the end of the semester, it made it an easy free flowing environment where there wasn’t too much pressure to stress on any one thing. Before you knew it the ding of the bell was going off overhead and you and Julie started packing up your things, she quickened her pace when she saw the boys waiting at the door for her. “You guys have practice today?” You giggled at her rushed movements. “Yeah,” she laughed as she zipped her bag closed, “Luke and I just finished up a new song too so I’m really excited to get back to the garage to figure out the music behind it.” She smiled up at you and you returned the affection. “Well don’t let me hold you up! Hope it all goes well! See you tomorrow!” You waved to the girl as she ran to the door, only pausing to throw a wave back at you. You laughed and shook your head at the girls' antics and went about your day as usual, starting your walk back home, you didn’t live too far and enjoyed the fresh air and time to recollect after the school day. After getting home you grabbed a quick snack and retreated to your room to finish a sketch that you had been working on in class today. Digging through your bag your heart rate increased when you pulled the red covered book to see the top covered in multiple stickers, this wasn’t your book, it was Julies song book, meaning she was currently in possession of your sketchbook. She must have grabbed yours on mistake when she was packing up quickly. You lightly sighed as you pulled out your phone to text her about the accidental switch-up. She replied instantly just realizing the mistake herself, then invited you over to switch them back and possibly hear some of the songs they were working on, looking for an outsider's opinion. You hesitated in saying yes, did you really need your book back that bad? Sighing, you sent back an okay and asked for an address, as nervous as you were to hang around the guys, more specifically Luke, you remembered how excited Julie was to go over the new song, the one that was probably sitting in the book you were holding in your hands. You threw on a light jacket and grabbed your backpack, for reasons unexplainable to you it just always just felt safer to walk around with a backpack on, and you were on your way to Julies. You could feel your nerves rising with each step you took towards her house, by the time you stood at the end of her driveway you felt like your heart was in your throat. “Calm down, (y/n), it’s just a little hangout to get your book back and hear a few songs, no biggie, nothing to fret about at all.” you whispered to yourself, taking one last deep breath before continuing your walk up her driveway. You had just come into view from the garage when you heard Julie calling out your name. “(Y/n)! How was your walk?” Julie ran out to meet you, now walking beside you into the garage. “It was good! You actually live closer to me than I thought, it was only like a 15 minute walk,” you smiled at her and you continued the small talk until you looked up and met eyes with the brunette guitarist. “(Y/n), these are the guys, Alex, Reggie and Luke,” she introduced them to you and you raised your hand in a wave. “Yeah, i’ve seen you guys perform before, you’re all really good!” you smiled and met each of their gazes. “Thanks! And that was all our old stuff, just wait until you hear what we have coming, um..” Luke stuttered realizing he didn’t know your name. You went to say it but Alex beat you to it. “(Y/n) you idiot,” he hit the back of Luke's head, while rolling his eyes. A blush rose to Luke’s face and he laughed it off. “I-I knew that, I-I just-” “You’re at the school for dance right?” Alex spoke again, interrupting and trying to take the attention off of the stuttering Luke. You smiled and nodded. “Yeah! I’m on a dance scholarship, so that's my main focus but my second is visual art, which reminds me,” You take your backpack off and pull out Julies song book, “here’s this!” She smiles and takes it from you. “Ugh thanks so much, I don’t know what I would have done if I lost this, Reggie can you grab her sketchbook? It’s on the piano!” Julie opened her book and smiled looking at the page. “Oh wow,” you heard Reggie mutter causing everyone to turn to him, “(y/n) this stuff is like, really good.” You blushed and looked down at your feet, you’ve never been good at accepting compliments. “Dude, boundaries!” Julie muttered reaching for the book, but Luke got to it first, taking his own turn looking through the pages. Your heart jumped when he started smiling at the pages he was flipping through, you didn’t have anything in there that you kept hidden, it was just that no one had ever gone through your work before. “You have so many different styles, this one is like a cartoon, but then the next one is like hyper realistic.” Luke looks up to make eye contact and you felt a blush rise to your cheeks. Alex took the second of him being distracted to pull the book away from him and hand it back to you. “I’m sorry for them, they still haven’t figured out what it means to respect someone's privacy.” He narrowed his eyes at his two bandmates. “You know,” you opened the book in your hands to search for a particular page, “I actually have something of each of you individually. I sketched them out the night after I saw one of your guys’ gigs.” You scrunch your face in concentration, you feel everyone rush to stand behind you when you finally find it. You look around at them to take in their reactions, their eyes were all glued to the papers you were displaying in front of you, Reggies mouth falling open. “Oh! Is this why you asked for the pictures my dad took of that night?” Julie looked up at you. “Yeah, I wanted to be able to add the details of everyone's chosen instruments and get some added information on where the highlights were from the lights,” you looked at each of their faces again and made a rash decision to gently tear the pages from your book, handing them to each respective person. Each person held them gently in their hands, then looked up to you in amazement. You just shrugged your shoulders in response, not knowing what else to say. “Well,” you looked out the window and saw the setting sun, “I better start my walk back to my house, it’s getting dark and I wanna get back before that happens. Enjoy the pictures guys!” You smile and turn to walk away, all the band still shocked to silence. “She’s never torn a page from her book before,” you hear Julie tell the boys as you walk further down the driveway, smiling to yourself. It was true, you never pull pages from your sketchbook, not this one at least, it was the better quality of all the other ones you had. You typically just used the less expensive books for class, you go through all the pages so quickly you didn’t want to waste the one’s in your higher quality notebook for the rough sketches, but the pages that you drew the band on were in the higher quality notebook, you had taken the time to really get them right, and they turned out fantastic. Your mother had always told you to spread joy where you can, and after seeing all their faces you knew that it was only right to let them have the pages that they were looking at. You arrived home and couldn’t wipe the smile off your face, there might be something there with them, an opportunity to make new friends, to open up. This idea makes you both nervous and excited, you let these thoughts and ideas later lull you to sleep. --- The next day at school you were walking to your locker when Julie caught your eye, she was waiting in her phone by your locker door. You would usually see her in passing in the mornings, but this is new. “Hey Julie, what’s up?” You greet the curly haired girl at your locker. “Hey (y/n)! Not much really, just watched to catch you this morning and run an idea past you…” She smiles and looks around her before returning her gaze back to you. “Okay? Is everything alright? You seem nervous,” you giggled at her antics and went back to putting the combination into your locker. “Yeah, yeah, I just know you take a while to open up and get close with new people, and I don’t wanna rush you into anything you aren’t ready for, but the boys and I were wondering if-” She gets cut off by a yell from down the hallway. “JULIE! HAVE YOU ASKED HER YET?” You turn to see all three boys running towards you, Julie facepalming at Reggies yell. “Geez Reg, she literally just got here. There's no need to yell,” Julie rolls her eyes at them and looks back to you. “Anyways, we were wondering if you wanted to make more designs and stuff for the band, like for posters and maybe album art one day.” She smiles at you after finishing. “You-you want me to… really?” Your eyes widen in shock. “Yeah! We all really like what you did with those portraits, and you’re pretty chill letting us keep them and all, we want you to be a part of our band, even if it isn’t you on stage with us, you’ll keep things looking cool.” Luke says as he leans against the lockers beside you. “Plus, then you’ll be able to hang out with us more!” Reggie pipes in. They all look at each other then back at you. “So,” Alex smiles at you, “What do ya think?” A million thoughts fly through your mind at once, they really want you to hang out with them more? They liked what you did? You looked at them all, looking back at you, and smiled. “I’d love to.”
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@gia-kerks​ @fangirlangioma​
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fenheart87 · 3 years
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The Dress
For @bloody-no-kissu, you're art is always amazing and inspirational! I love you bloody!
It was a rare day that Marinette was fully rested, had no events to attend and the bakery wasn't busy enough for her parents to ask for her help. Feeling inspired but not able to pick up a recent project without being hypercritical of her work, the young designer decided picking up something different might help. Grabbing a blue folder with various doodles and stickers, she spread the sketches one by one on her desk.
"Oh, these look great!" Tikki chimed, flying closer to examine the handwritten notes.
"I know but I can't choose! I want to do them all, eventually but where do I start?" Marinette huffed, eyeing the designs with a playful pout.
"Hm, why not choose randomly? You could number the designs and put matching numbers on slips of paper to pick the one to start with!"
"Tikki, that's a great idea!" Marinette cupped the floating ladybug gently in her hands and pressed a quick kiss to her forehead before scribbling on a scratch paper. Tearing the numbers apart, she put them in a hat and let Tikki do the honors.
"Here we go!" Tikki dropped in the hat and shook the pieces around before flying back out with one piece between her paws. Twirling in excitement, she opened the paper and held it up like a sign. "Lucky number four!"
"Okay so four is," the designer stacked the extra papers and pulled out the fourth design page, "this one. Huh, I don't have one color scheme for this, I made two. Oh wait, this started out as a design for Rose but I made something else for her. I can finish this dress for me though, time to go fabric shopping!"
"Oh can you get some crushed velvet? It makes a wonderful bed." Tikki asked, hovering by the trapdoor as her holder ran around the room to gather her things.
"Sure! Any color requests?" Marinette paused to let the kwami zip into her purse, handing Tikki the list.
"Blue or green, maybe aquamarine!" They shared a giggle before the designer made her way downstairs to let her parents know about her trip into town.
"Maman, Papa, I'm going to the fabric shop. I've got so much creativity I feel like I'm going to explode!"
"Well we don't want that, then we couldn't possibly have family bear hugs!" Tom shouted, scooping up his wife and daughter who giggled and snuggled in for the hug. "Please be safe and call if you need help or eat somewhere else for lunch."
"Of course Papa!" Marinette withdrew from the hug and grabbed her personalized tote bag that she used for trips like these. With one last wave goodbye, she set off to her favorite shop. A ten minute bus ride and quick shortcut through the plaza, she arrived in front of The Special Thread. The bell rang merrily as the younger design held the door open for an elderly lady before beelining towards the crushed velvets. It was the backrest left corner and after a glance around, Marinette popped open her purse to let Tikki out to be able to help pick out the right color.
"Okay here are all the cool colors of the crushed velvet and then here’s the penne velvet too. What did I need and who did I need it for? Oh wait, the list!” Marinette knew the shop owner and many of the regular customers were used to the young designer talking to herself as they tended to indulge in the habit as well. Actually checking the list after fighting the urge to ruffle through the soft velvets, “I need a burgundy color to accent Marc’s and a peachy tone for Nathaniel, more princess tulle for Rose and some black lace for Juleka… Oh that’s perfect!”
“Marinette, I like both of these colors but can't choose…” Tikki chimed, respectfully waiting until Marinette’s attention was back from her creative mindset.
“It’s on sale, why not get both and I can make a matching pillow or something? I have a coupon too and those colors are gorgeous, the blue reminds me of Luka.” She may have not noticed the dopey grin on her face as she grabbed the selected velvets and moved to another fabric wall  but Tikki could see it clearly and cheered internally. “Let’s get a couple yards of each and then I saw the perfect shades for Marc and Nathaniel but Ms. Cribler might have more in the back so I can get a little extra, just to be on the safe side.”
“Hello, Marinette, you looked especially inspired.” The shop owner smiled as she spotted Marinette, sorting through some bolts of fabrics to be put away from previous customers. Today she was sporting her favorite cardigan, the plum on bottom faded into lilac near the collar and the different embroidered designs and patches were still like new and matched her skirt that had vines and flowers blooming all over in a field of wildflowers. The addition of several animals made Marinette smile, it was the elder woman’s way of supporting the superheroes that protect their fair city.
“Hello Ms. Cribler, I am feeling very inspired and had to even get creative in choosing what to make next! How has the shop been today, need me to return anything? I’m passing through the solids and plundering the lace next.” The young designer placed her chosen bolts of fabric on the counter, eyeing the rather large pile that was being sorted.
“Oh things have been busy, it seems the creativity is floating in the air! I can hold these until you’re ready of course, if you can run this pile,” Ms. Cribler patted a pile with about ten bolts of various creams and browns, “they need to be put away. I have gotten everything I need from those. Is there anything in particular I can check the back for?”
“Ah yes, I need some more of this burgundy shade and if you have more peach colors, something more pale orange and less pink peach color that would be perfect. I’ll take these with me and see what I can find in the lace bolts.” Marinette picked up the pile with ease and marched carefully to the proper section and began putting them away. Tikki joined her, zipping back and forth to help quickly find the right spots she needed. Once those were completely put away, the duo weaved through the aisles and found the lace bolts. With a soft hum, the young designer pulled several options down. Marinette set them down on the return cart that was nearby, carefully unrolling them just enough to see a clear picture of the lace.
“What part of the dress is going to be lace?” The kwami inquired, floating at the top of the pink bag.
“Mid back up to my shoulders, just along the back side.”
“Oh, then this one would be so pretty!” Tikki flew up and showed off her choice, wrapping it around her tiny body like a toga.
“Super stylish Tikki!” Marinette giggled and returned the other options back to their proper places. Picking up the one she wanted to purchase and making sure Tikki was in her bag once more, she weaved her way back to the solids for another look and didn’t have anything that spoke to her. Continuing on, Marinette returned to the front cutting table where Ms. Cribel was helping out a familiar face but not a familiar face to see in the shop. Tikki giggled and ducked completely out of sight, closing the clasp of the purse.
“Found the lace alright Marinette?”
“Yes ma’am, take you time Luka, I still have to check out these other colors.” The girl smiled brighter as the other customer turned around, his typical and slightly goofy Luka smile in place.
“Hey Marinette, look like you have quite the haul.” Luka teased, shifting to talk to her.
“Yeah, I just had this moment of inspiration but now that I think about it the dress I’m making would be ideal first date material… I could tweak it for Rose and embellish it a bit for an anniversary vibe…”
“Is the dress for you?”
“Yeah it was originally, I just don’t think I’m going to have a date to wear it for soon.” Marinette scrunched her nose slightly, it felt weird to talk about dating in front of Ms. Cribel. Finding a salmon color that would be fantastic, she moved the bolt to her purchase pile and scooted it closer to the register where Luka had a thoughtful frown on his face.
“Well why don’t you change that? Isn’t the dance coming up?”
“Yeah, in a couple months.” The designer giggled as a light pink dusted his cheeks, sometimes she wished she liked Luka first. That thought struck her like lightning and decided right then and there she was going to be true to herself and no longer be pressured by the Girl Squad for her change of heart. “Hey Luka, are you, uh well, are you busy later? The weather is really nice and Maman made the best dumplings and the park doesn’t have a big photoshoot or news report or meeting going on today…”
“Yea- no, I mean no but I mean yes.” Luka clenched his jaw while taking a deep breath to calm down, eyes wide with hope before continuing, “I have no plans unless you wanna have plans later?”
“Yeah, it’s a date… I just have to finish my dress first and I can text you?”
“Yeah, anytime. Ever. Yes.” The musician clench his jaw again, making Marinette laugh in sheer joy. He was just as nervous as her but they would work it out on their date.
“Okay, well I think you’re good to go and I still need my materials cut. Uh did you- nevermind.”
“Can I walk you home? I can carry some of your stuff, these are good for other things than playing guitar.” Luka playfully flexed his arm, seeming to forget he had his jacket on and she couldn't see his muscles.
“Oh you will and you had better let him or you’re banned from my shop.”
“What? Ms. Cribel-”
“Marinette, you have a boyfriend now. Call me Ana as a thank you for giving you a discount to celebrate. Now, how many of what do you need today dear? You need to hurry and get home!” The shop owner punctuated her words with a few snips of her scissors, reaching for the lace first.
“Ah, the lace I need four yards, six of the salmon and burgundy and since the velvet is half off..” Marinette dropped into thought and with a glance at the boy beside her made a decision, “let’s do ten of each. And my special order too, if you have it in.”
“I sure do! Let me finish this right up and I’ll grab it for you.” Ana swiftly unfolded the bolts and made precise, clean and quick cuts, working through the small stack in under a minute. The musician seemed a bit shocked but Marinette knew she could move faster and still have the same pinpoint accuracy. Folding all the cut lengths and wrapping the bolts once more to set them aside, the shop keeper tucked the purchases into a bag and threw in some extra thread. Leaning down to reach under the counter, she put another bag that had a receipt attached onto the counter as well.
“Did you have everything?” The young designer asked, rolling and tucking that big into the bigger one.
“Of course! You are my favorite customer, anytime you call I make sure I have everything or get it delivered before you show up. It brings me joy that you create so many beautiful things when these hands are not quite steady enough anymore, it makes me happy to see you thrive.” The younger was touched and the awe showed in her face, causing the older woman to smile.
“She is pretty amazing.” Luka’s soft voice drew their attention, Marinette blushing while Ana had a knowing smile.
“Total today is one week of fresh croissants and details of today’s date.”
“What? No, i couldn’t possibly take all this for free-”
“Marinette. I am trading you, your parents food and you story for my measly fabrics. I will simply kick you out of my shop if you refuse.”
“Okay but two weeks at least and I can come help you put things away.”
“Deal, now go finish your dress and knock his socks off!” Ana winked playfully, both teens were blushing as they left.
“She isn’t usually like that but thank you for helping me.” Marinette grinned shyly, Luka had taken the bag of fabrics before she could and left no room for protest.
“Seems like she knows you well. And of course Marinette,” the soft way he spoke her name was going to give her heart problems if it kept skipping every time he said it, “anything to spend more time with a beautiful girl.”
The girl in question just blushed and ignored him, not that Luka seemed to mind as he escorted her home in silence. It was a comfortable and breathable bubble they were in and not even when he had to catch her when she tripped boarding the bus that would take them to her house. In a smooth and thoughtful move, Luka managed to hold her hand without her noticing until the end of the bus ride, only smiling in his sweet way at her blush.
“Well thank you for walking me home, now I can finish the last piece and then we can go on our date.”
"Yeah, no problem. Now I know where to pick you up too." He grinned crookedly, her blushing was too cute.
"Yeah now you know… Um, I haven’t done this before and I know you’ve been there for you through a lot and i appreciate it so much but like I don"t want you to think I'm going on this date as like a rebound or something stupid to deal with Adrien when its not.”
“Marinette.” Luka met her eyes dead on, a growing smile on his lips. “You have never and would never lead anyone on like that. I have always respected your feelings, even when you decided to gift them to someone other than me. My feelings for you haven't changed at all, you’re still the song in my head.” This boy was too much for Marinette, she suddenly stopped in the middle of the sidewalk and Luka calmly looped around her and gently guided her into movement again with a gentle press of a hand.
“You are something else.”
“A good something else?”
“Depends how nice our date is later!” With that teasing remark, Marinette used the last of her courage to press a kiss on Luka’s cheek before dashing inside and up to her room. Carefully the designer set down her purchases on her desk before jumping up and down and squealing in happiness.
“Great job Marinette!” Tikki giggled and flew in a few loops to show her excitement as well.
“Oh my gosh, Maman! I need your help, if you’re not busy!” Marinette stumbled a bit on her way down but caught herself before she fell. She knew this would be one of her best creations yet.
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apherod · 3 years
Text
Rubian Soulmate AU
I finally finished writing it ahhhh
I eventually decided that I was going for a sketch-style writing for this. Just short bits and pieces here and there, piecing together some scenes, but not fully fleshed out into a storyline (it coincides with the original story mostly anyway)
So here it is! Enjoy!
This is a Liam and Ruby Soulmate AU requested by an anon (possibly @thedarkestcrew?) ask, in which damage done to one half of the soulmate pair would translate to the other half. 
Word count: 4400
===
Liam
“Where did all these bruises come from?”
I was driving through Highway 95 in Maryland when I noticed the bruises crowning my knuckles. They just…appeared, like petals floating to the surface of water. It is possible that I punched something—or someone—at some point in the last few days, or tripped and fell, and using…my fists to break the fall? But I don’t recall doing any of that.
Then again, my head hadn’t been the most reliable in these past few weeks, either.
They weren’t the first. A couple of weeks ago, I woke up with a cut on my upper arm, and the blood drenched half of my sleeve, but the sleeve wasn’t torn or cut, so it couldn’t have been me… Another one came a few days after that, when I was driving, and a sudden searing pain came to my wrist, like I was burnt by a frying pan, but that part of my skin wasn’t even touching anything. The list goes on.
I think I’m going insane.
Some people…some who are lucky enough to find their soulmates, found themselves with identical wounds on them, because when one half of that bond gets hurt, the other one suffers, too. Mom’s bruises never translated onto our birth dad. Maybe that was why he was so okay with hurting her. It wasn’t until she met Harry, did that magic—or curse—work on both of them.
But that’s exactly that—it only happens after you’ve met the person. If I’ve somehow met her, and didn’t know who she was, then I’ve really screwed up. Big time.
It couldn’t have been anyone in Caledonia, otherwise I would’ve known. No one from home, either. There weren’t even that many of us left. Could it be someone from East River? For some reason, I just couldn’t be sure… There’re this weird quality in my memory when I think of East River, glowing tinge surrounding everything, blurring details, and flaring up the edges, making it hard to see for too long.
Also, if I met her in East River, why isn’t she with me?
If she’s really out there, I felt sorry for all the pain I’ve caused her in the past few days. When I narrowly escaped that group of Skip Tracers, my arms were all cut up, real pretty. I can’t imagine the horror she must have felt when her arms just, out of nowhere, started spontaneously bleeding half of her blood out.
I really ought to take better care of myself, even if it’s just for her sake.
When I crossed the state boarder into Pennsylvania, I managed to find an old payphone, and left a voice mail for my brother to let him know where I am, and that I’m coming his way. I didn’t want to—asking for Cole’s help was one of the few things that I genuinely want to avoid—but I’m really desperate.
The truth is, just imagining him gloating about this—about me needing his help—was almost enough to make me turn around. Think about the last time I asked for his help… didn’t work out so well, did it? But whatever Cole has to offer, whatever nightmare I have to live through going back to the League, is better than being hauled back into the camp.
I don’t think they’d actually take me back into a camp, anyway.
When I got passed the wrong Wilmington, I briefly glimpsed the road sign that read US 13, and a voice suddenly rang in my head.
Turn off here. It urged.
The feeling was distinctly different from my reluctance to meet Cole—it was a drive, asking me to go somewhere, rather than run from somewhere.
Whatever it was, I can’t listen, no matter how hard I wanted to, no matter how it warmed my heart just thinking about that impulse, like it would lead me home, even though I had no idea how.
I got into the city of Philadelphia, and found my brother’s apartment soon enough. When I got into his building, a woman threw me a sideway glance that made my hair stood on their ends.
Please don’t recognize me, please don’t recognize me, please don’t recognize me… I muttered in my head while I pressed the buzzer. The door swung opened, and I was snatched inside by a forceful arm.
“What the hell were you thinking?” Cole snarled before I could even lay eyes on him properly. “Why didn’t you call me when you got here?”
He looked much better than me, that much was clear. Cole never had any wound that wasn’t his own, and from the looks of him, he hadn’t seen much action lately. His hair was clean-cut, brushed neatly away from his face. He was wearing a white shirt and dark blue jeans, with metal-frame glasses which were clearly without diopters to finish the look. In this getup, you’d expect him to be a graduate student in U Penn, not a high school dropout.
“I… I didn’t have any money to place a call.” I muttered, feeling my voice getting smaller. Gosh, I hated this. I hated that I felt like a child again. I took off my jacket, and hung it on the peg right next to his. They were two identical black leather jackets, which Mom bought us years ago—she got them a couple of sizes bigger than we were at the time, in anticipation that we would eventually grow into them. Cole did, whereas I felt like I still hadn’t.
Cole let out a long and harsh breath, and gave me a scan head to toe. “You’ve seen better days.” He commented eventually, a subtle amusement in his tone. “Even for you, this is a bit excessive…” He gingerly lifted my right wrist, and got a good look at my forearm, all cut up.
You don’t say. I wanted to retort, but didn’t. “What are you doing in Philly?” I asked as I retracted my hand.
Cole raised an eyebrow. “You really want to know?”
Maybe not. “I’d probably know eventually, wouldn’t I?” I said.
He scratched his chin, frowning. “You know what this means, right? You know where we’re going?”
“Look, if I could just find Mom and Harry…” I began, but he raised his hand and stopped me.
“No,” He snapped, “We don’t have that kind of time. My assignment here is done. I’m being extracted at midnight, which is in less than four hours, and if you think I’d let you out running into the wild and being hauled into a camp again, you’d have another thought coming.”
Choose me. I remembered the subtext of what Cole said that night when he left home, and now it was ringing in a different tone. Now I don’t have a choice.
“All right.” I sighed. “Whatever you say.”
He frowned deeper. But it took him a while to say something. “Look, I know the last time you came with me, it didn’t end so well, but things are turning around.” He said, palms down, pacifying. “I promise, just stick it out a few months.”
“How do you know?” I asked.
He bit his lip. “I just do. Trust me.” He said, then gave me a tight smile, “Tell you what, I’ll go get us something to eat, and you clearly need a shower.” He took off his glasses, grabbed the keys, then, as if remembered something, added with a grin, “Do not, drown in the bathtub.”
“Yeah, yeah.” I rolled my eyes.
Before he could open the door, though, I stopped him. “Cole,” I began, but didn’t really know how to finish.
“Yeah?” He prompted.
“Have we...” I caught myself just for a moment. What am I doing? “...have we ever been to Virginia Beach?”
Because that…memory? was so vivid, that I couldn’t pretend it wasn’t there, calling me at every moment I so much as allowed my mind to idle for a second. But it also had that bright glare around it, like it didn’t really belong to me, like I was seeing it through a mirror, into a different dimension where we were all happier people.
Cole was there, looking exactly like how he was now, but Claire was also there, and that didn’t make any sense…
“No…?” Cole said, “We lived in Wilmington. We went to Wrightsville, remember?”
Of course I do, but… I shook my head. “It’s just… I kept seeing this…memory, that we were there, and Claire was there, too…”
Cole pressed his lips tight. I know mentioning Claire’s name would probably put him on edge, but it’s not like I have other people to talk about her with anyway. A part of me wanted to be a bit mean about it, but I couldn’t bring myself to. I didn’t have the strength.
“I don’t know what you’re talking about.” He said, voice rigid. “Just go take your shower. I’ll be back with the food.”
And he left, leaving me alone in his white and bare apartment.
I still couldn’t be sure that it was a good idea coming here. If I’m being honest with myself, it wasn’t even about my negative view on the League, or what it had turned my brother into, but that…I’m not sure how to be his brother anymore. I’m not even sure that he needs a brother.
Hell. Looking around this place, I got the feeling that a brother wasn’t the only thing he didn’t need. But then again, knowing how Cole kept his room, it was maybe a good thing that he had so few belongings here. This place…it didn’t even feel like someone actually live here; there were so few things breaking the white of the walls, it was almost glaring to my eyes.
I first went to check his bed, to see if he still has that weird habit—falling asleep with cigarettes still in his hand. His bedsheet looked clean enough; nothing charred. No ashtray, either. Maybe he quit.
Satisfied, I went to grab a t-shirt and a pair of pants from his closet, and dived into the pressurized water in his shower.
I can’t remember when was the last time I had running water. Probably…when I was in the League’s safe house? Gosh. My skin is so filthy, the water only started running clean after a good ten minutes of scrubbing, and I was scrubbing hard.
I was extra careful when I cleaned my arms, though. Not particularly because I was scared of pain, but more that I didn’t want to hurt this…person who might share this unfortunate connection with me, however low the chance might be. I didn’t want to make her suffer even more—somehow, I knew it was a her, for reasons I couldn’t quite put into words.
When I got out of the shower, I felt like my entire body had been turned inside out. My skin was glowing pink against the white tiling of Cole’s bathroom. He is an inch or two taller than me—which was sore to admit, but hey, I went through puberty in a lot worse condition than he did—so his pants hung a little too long around my ankles.
Then I finally got a good look at myself in the mirror. Damn, I looked awful. The dark shadows under my eyes were so purple, they looked almost black. Not to mention the countless scratches and bruises. There was a new one on my left cheek, just above the jawline. Whether it was mine or hers, I didn’t know.
Just as I threw the towel over my head, and started rubbing the water away from my hair, I heard it—siren. It began from a distance, a low wailing, but it was enough to set every hair on my back on its end. As I flew out of Cole’s shower, grabbed my jacket, and rushed to the window side, the siren got closer—and multiplied. The sound of them were like a harmony from hell.
Should I run? Should I stay?
I should run.
Even though they might not be coming for me, I knew better than to push my luck—it hadn’t really been on my side recently, and that woman who looked at me a second too long when I got in the building was probably proving me right. I threw the apartment door open, and on a second thought, ran for the roof instead of the ground floor.
I can reconvene with Cole later. I need to stay out of sight now. Cole’s a smart guy, he knows what to do in a situation like this.
It had started raining. I tripped on a mossy patch on the rooftop, and almost broke my jaw, but I stood up and kept running. I pushed myself over the ledge of the next building, and sprinted for the fire escape on the far end. The sound of the first bullet fired almost made me lose my bearing when I lowered myself onto the metal shaft.
They are on the other side. There were two fully populated buildings between me and those bullets, and they were firing at someone else—which means I’m not who they’re after. These are all good news.
Right?
Since when had I been that lucky after I turned twelve?
I pulled the hood of the jacket over my head, and dove into the shadow of the next alley. The gunfire had stopped, which meant that they probably got whoever they were after. I took the long way around the block, trying to get a hang of the situation, getting an idea of where I could find Cole without being spotted—
Oh, I found him alright.
Fuck. No. Fuck.
I only caught sight of him for a second before they slammed the back of that van shut, and in that brief second, he looked up, and he saw me.
No.
Christ. No. I… I got him caught. I did… I did this… Why didn’t I warn him? Why didn’t I go to him as soon as I heard the siren?
What have I done?
If you’re caught, you’re disavowed. I still remembered that phrase like it was etched into my skull. If anything encapsulates what I hate about the League the most, this is it. And now, Cole is going to be another casualty under that cold hard rule. The thought almost made my knees buckled, but instead of crashing down, I up and ran.
I ran. From this nightmare of my own making.
+++
Ruby
“Ruby!”
The scream came before the punch could land. I didn’t register what was happening in that first moment, not until the blood was dripping down my elbows, and staining the blue mats under us.
“Go to the infirmary!” Coach Johnson ordered, and I gladly obeyed. I could hear the whispering judgements forming even before I left the training room—what was that? What’s wrong with her? Where did those come from?
I knew exactly where they came from.
If Chubs was here, he’d likely yell at me for not getting these wounds taken care of immediately, but I simply…couldn’t. I ran for the shower stall, being careful not to stain the curtain, and turn on the tap.
With the water pouring out the showerhead, steaming up every bit of air around me, blurring my vision, I finally let the tears fall.
My arms didn’t hurt that much. At least, not as much as my heart. The bruises were bearable—who doesn’t get those occasionally living in the wild? I got one every other day even just from the training. But these cuts…he was in danger. Maybe he only got away with it within an inch of his life.
The only consolation I had was that I wasn’t mortally wounded, which meant he wasn’t, either. But that doesn’t mean I didn’t regret my decision of letting him go every second of every day.
If I did that to protect him, all these wounds and bruises only proved how wrong I was, how in vain my suffering had been.
“Ruby?” Cate’s voice.
I swallowed hard before answering. “Yes?”
“Are you all right?” She asked, standing outside of my stall.
“Yes.” I lied.
“Coach Johnson said you were hurt—” She didn’t buy it. “Look, if you don’t want to go to the infirmary, I can take a look—”
“I’m fine.” I cut her off. The timer on the tap beeped, warning me that the water would start running cold. My blood was dripping down from my fingers, dropping into the shallow water on the concrete floor like roses blooming in the snow.
“Ruby, I can see the blood.” Cate said dryly, then softer, coaxing. “Come out, please. Let me dress your wounds.”
Only if I could just close my eyes, and pretend for a second that the person who was waiting for me with antiseptic was Chubs, not Cate. If only I could pretend that these wounds were mine, not of the boy that I dreamt of every night for the past few months.
If only I could pretend that they were here with me, or that I wasn’t here at all.
I sighed, and brushed the curtain open. To Cate’s credit, she didn’t flinch at the sight of me. “Oh, Ruby…” She said with a tone like I was a stray cat ready to be put down. She reached out, and gingerly lifted my hand to get a better look at my arm.
“Press on it.” She handed me a towel, and sat down on the bench before patting the empty space beside her, motioning for me to join her.
I did as she said as she tore open a paper package. “This is going to hurt a little…” She gently dabbed the fabric square on my wounds, and I hissed out of reflex. I hated this. I hated showing her my weakness, and I guessed, in a weird way, she understood that. She didn’t comment on any of it, only continued to wrap my arms up in silence.
“There.” When she’s done, both of my forearms were wrapped entirely in gauzes.
“Th…thank you.” I managed to choke out.
She gave me a tender smile. “Don’t mention it.” She stood up, collecting the empty packages off the bench, and turned to leave.
Before she was out of the door, however, she turned around, and said, “You know, you get those wounds together, and you heal together, too.” She paused for a second, “You’re…not entirely helpless in this situation.”
Ten minutes after she left, I was still sitting on that bench, pondering her words. I didn’t even know what she said was true, but if it was, it meant that when I took care of myself, I took care of him, too. That, somehow, didn’t seem so bad.
I wondered how Cate knew that. She and Rob were clearly not soulmates, and I didn’t even know why she would want to date him, even without considering that fact. Rob—ruthless, arrogant, hateful—was everything opposite to what she seemed to hold dear.
But then again, she probably didn’t understand why someone would find their soulmate only to let them go on their own.
That day when I let Liam go, I made a decision that I would be whoever the League wants me to be, and make it so that they wouldn’t miss him. And for the longest time, I had kept to that promise. But not today, not now.
I just want to be myself again, even if it’s just for a moment.
So I brushed open the curtain to the stall, and allowed myself to be vulnerable again, for everyone and no one to see.
+++
His eyes traveled from my face to where the water had collected on my chest, and I raised my arms just that much higher.
His mouth half-opened for what I was sure to be a snide remark, but whatever it was never managed to pass his lips. His face froze, brows drew together, and he reached out. Before I could shift away—to where though, I had no idea; my back was already against the wall—he grabbed my wrist, and lifted my arm.
“It was you.” Cole said with a tone of half astonishment, half…anger?
“What was?” I raised an eyebrow at him, trying to hide how much I felt like a kid being caught red-handed, stealing candy bars.
He threw me a “really?” look. “Don’t insult my intelligence.” He snapped, “These are Liam’s, aren’t they?”
I almost asked “how do you know”, but that would confirm his suspicion. “What makes you say that?” I asked instead.
He rolled his eyes. “I’m not playing games with you.” He huffed, “Soulmates should stick together. What were you thinking sending him out into the wild? Do you have any idea how dangerous he is to you? Or you to him? The poor bastard doesn’t even know you exist!”
“And as long as I stay in the League, that fact shall remain.” I said, more resolute and calmer than I thought possible.
He blew out a sigh of exasperation. “Look, I don’t care what kind of sainthood complex you have going on, I’m telling you—you are not doing either of you any favors, and if you think this is somehow a good idea, I beg you, think again, because you definitely look smarter than this.”
“What do you know?” I retorted, finally couldn’t keep the lid on my anger anymore. “Do you have any idea how much he hates it here? How hard he was trying to avoid this place before you drag him into this mess?”
Cole really laughed. “You think I don’t know?” He raised an eyebrow at me, and I met his glare head on. “I was the one that let him go when he got away that first time.” He tried to brush his hair back with his hand, but it gave out a weird flex before he could reach his head. “And I’ve seen enough soulmates pairs in my life to know that I never want one. Have you any idea what would happen to him if you were injured when he was on the run? Soulmates stick together so they don’t double their chances on dying, but I guess no one ever set your logic straight, did they?”
My head was so flushed with anger that I actually let him finished.
“Go find him.” Cole snapped. “And for Christ’s sake, stay together this time.”
+++
Liam
“I didn’t need freedom; I needed you!” I half-screamed, trying to get the frustration out past the chaos raging in my head. How could I—? How could she—? What the hell—?
On the receiving end of my scream, Ruby’s face was painted with grief, lined with tears that almost made my anger buckle. Almost.
“Did you just…not want to be with me anymore?” Facing her silence, my pain came out softer eventually. Please, just tell me, and I will leave you alone.
“No…” She choked out. “I… I was wrong.” She swallowed hard before continuing, and despite the anger still roaming my vein, I wanted to reach out and touch her. “We should…we should stay together. I knew I couldn’t bear to see you with the League, see them take away all the good in you that I love…”
“Is that how you think of me?” I snapped before I realized what I was doing, “That I am so weak that the League is bound to break me?”
“No!” She shook her head violently, “No, I don’t think you are weak… If anything, I think you are much stronger than me. But I was weak.” She finally looked back at me, her green eyes gleaming in the dim light of this dust-covered room. “I’m so sorry.”
Before I could react to what she said—I didn’t even know what I was going to say or do—the sound of a gunshot broke every single thought clean out of my head.
Ruby was running before I could do anything about it. She pushed the door of the shop open, and another shot blew open the window on the outside, shattering the glass all over the floor.
“Ruby!” I shouted as I dodged, crouching with my hands over my ears, but she was already up and running again, out of the door and behind the woman that was escaping the scene—with a gun in her hands.
“Ruby, stop!” I shouted again, got on my feet to catch her, but I never manage. I skidded on the broken glass, and fell, hands first, into the shards.
I heard her hiss. She stopped dead on her way, and whirled around to find me on the floor, holding my right hand on my laps, pressing it against the fabric of my jeans to try and stop the bleeding.
The blood was dripping down to her fingers. As she walked slowly towards me, the red, looking almost black, dropped on the dust-covered floor, leaving a spotting route, marking her path. When she knelt down beside me, finally close enough to touch me, I found that she was smiling. A totally mirthless, wry and painful smile.
“Give me your hand.” She said softly, almost like a whisper.
“You should treat yours first.” I said, trying to catch her hand, to see how much of a damage I’d done.
“We only need to treat one of us.” She let out a small breath, almost like something caught there. “We get them together, and we heal them together, too.”
That, somehow, broke through all the mess in my head and reached my mind. I let her take my arm, and carefully wrap her scarf on my hand, all the while her words played on repeat in my head.
We get them together, and we heal them together, too.
When she was done wrapping my hand up, the wounds on her hand stopped bleeding, too. I didn’t know why—I wasn’t even completely over that anger or frustration—but when she placed her hand in mine, a tender “there” escaping her lips, all I wanted to do was kiss her.
Instead, I gently enveloped my fingers around her hand. “There.” I said, pressing my good hand over hers.
And we stayed in that silent, that touch, just a little while longer.
+++
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lazyneonrabbitt · 3 years
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Paintings & Picture frames. [Pt.7]
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Daryl Dixon x Reader [Pt.1] [Pt.2] [Pt.3] [Pt.4] [Pt.5] [Pt.6]
A/N: We’re nearing the end of intro week! I’m thinking of ways to keep them interacting after this, I don’t wanna end this story yet but I also don’t wanna make them date immediately just so I have a reason to make them spend time together. Updates after the next chapter may be a little slower because of this! Please enjoy this chapter!
Daryl loved watching you work, with everything you did there was this softness and it all looked so carefully thought out from his point of view. Not like his work that was all rough, and his mechanic work may have intricate parts but it was no way to be considered art. The two of you kept working for a while longer, constantly finding small things to edit or fix. After the umpteenth tiny edit, wondering what color would suit better with the photos used on your cover and eventually setting on one you realised it had started to get late already and your stomachs were grumbling for some food. Hearing your body make all the hungry noises you immediately felt embarrassed and felt a blush creep up your cheeks. Daryl noticed your shifting and let out a soft laugh. "
Ya wanna eat? I can head home if we're done." He offered. He wasn't sure how much longer he was welcome now that you had finished your schoolwork. You didn't want him to leave yet, it was nice to have someone over for a while, even if it was just for school. He was nice to be around and in a new town that was amazing already. "We can order something, I got paid this week so I got some extra cash to spend." You offered to buy dinner for the two of you and Daryl wanted to say no and go home, but he really didn't want to go back home again. He'd see you at school tomorrow but what was gonna happen after the project week was done and you both went your own ways? He wasn't ready to have that happen just yet so he reluctantly agreed on having dinner with you. "Yeah, sounds good. What're ya thinkin' of?" He asked and you opened up your local delivery service website. After going through multiple suggestions that were turned down by you being a picky eater or Daryl not being in the mood for that kind of food you ended on pizza. The one topic you immediately agreed on, a share size barbeque chicken pizza with extra bacon. After you ordered the pizza you went over to your desk to set up your printer to get your project on paper and all nice in a folder. Making sure all the pages were in the right order, adding the cover in the page sleeve on the front and putting the original artworks you made behind the last pages as well as some extra printed photos you made during Daryl's classes. All got some kind of description written on the back by the person who made the picture or painting.
Not long after you had it all put together your pizza arrived at the front door of your building, telling the guy you were gonna come and pick it up there and leaving Daryl alone in your apartment. He looked around at everything, observing and taking in every little detail from your matching dark furniture to your weird amount of small statues of animals and video game stuff. The dinner table was littered with art supplies that wouldn't fit on your desk anymore, which was full of digital artist items and sketchpads. Without really thinking of it at all he got up and walked towards your desk. It was full of half filled pieces of paper with small sketches on them. It mostly was all in one theme and while some were crossed out or had some negative texts written next to them, others had certain parts circled in colored marker with details written next to them that probably all made sense when put together. He of course had no idea what that put together something would be, but he was sure it would be really cool. On the table behind him were all kinds of paints and large papers filled with colors and mixes, something like what he learned in your class last week, but then huge and way more detailed than the small thing you two made in a two-hour class that was mostly the teacher explaining stuff instead of actually working. He mostly just followed your lead that day and still had no clue what he did but you seemed to be proud of what he did and that was all that mattered. It was weird how just looking at some colors on paper made him think about memories with you that made his heart flutter inside his chest. There was no way he was gonna tell you that, though. Not until he was sure you felt the same way, not that you ever would feel the same about a guy like him.
Back in the hallway you walked towards your apartment, taking deep breaths and trying to calm your mind. Having dinner with Daryl was just a normal classmates thing to do after finishing a project, nothing to be worried about. Except maybe accidentally spilling your drink. Or eating weird. Choking on a crumb or maybe just air. Would he be grossed out if you talked with your mouth full? What the hell, all those thoughts were so stupid you didn't even know how your head came up with them. You were just normally gonna eat your takeout pizza like you always do and everything would be fine. You made it back to your door in one piece and balanced the pizza in one hand while you fiddled with your keys in the other, opening the door and walking in. Daryl had been so intrigued by your artwork that he hadn't noticed you come in and set the pizza on the coffee table. "Food's here." You stated, watching Daryl snap out of his gaze. "Aight, cool." He stuttered on his way back to tho couch. To say he felt embarrassed being caught staring at your personal work was an understatement. He felt like he had accidentally invaded your privacy and had no idea how to tell you. But then again you didn't seem angry or anything so was it really as bad as he thought. You noticed him not really paying attention to the food first thing after sitting down and wondered what went on in his head. Maybe you weren't the only one nervous about having dinner together? While you already did have coffee at the diner while you worked earlier this week, so this wasn't even that new. Of course you were still nervous because that was just who you were.
The thoughts quickly left when you were both eating and enjoying the food a lot. "What place was this? Gotta get this at work sometime." Daryl commented after grabbing a second piece while putting the last bits of his first slice in his mouth. You told him the name of the place and where it was located. Daryl knew the street it was located on but never really paid much attention to the shops that occupied it. He did pass the place multiple times a week on his way to work and he was sure to pay more attention to it from now on. The two of you ate mostly in silence beside the occasional comment about pizzas or the suggestion of a drink refill. Only when there were only two slices left that were now in the both of yours hands, you started talking more. The conversations went from favorite foods to your hobbies outside of your study, tv shows you liked to watch or places you'd ever want to visit. Before the two of you had realised it, it had gotten dark outside already. You only realised when Daryl wanted to go outside for another cigarette. That one cigarette quickly turned into a Shit it's this late already?! goodbye smoke in front of your apartment building, with a promise to see each other again in the morning on Daryl's usual parking spot at school before your last day of the introduction week.
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love-takes-work · 3 years
Text
Steven Universe: End of an Era: Outline & Review
I wrote this review in October but never got around to posting it here
Steven Universe: End of an Era is far more than an art book–it’s also a collection of behind-the-scenes material, stories about the experience of working on the show, planning documents and associated background info, and both older versions of developed concepts AND concepts that never made it into the show. It's a huge fusion of all those elements, and it's definitely an experience!
Some low-quality images are included with my review just to give you an idea of what’s there--it’s not a good substitute for getting your own copy, but here’s a tour!
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Like the previous concept art book, Art and Origins, I'll be giving you a description of the structure and overview, while also collecting notable information for fans. Obviously just about everything is "notable" once again, but I'll aim for unique insight or perspective on the main source material, keeping the screaming about everything new to a minimum so you can also enjoy something for yourself if you pick it up. My low-quality photos should prevent people from feeling like I'm reproducing the book in any capacity. Please grab one while you can and have your own experience!
[SU Book and Comic Reviews]
OVERVIEW
The book is titled "End of an Era" for a couple reasons--obviously because it is released after the show has wrapped, but also because Gem history recently ended its "Era 2" and began Era 3--an age of prosperity and peace. The author--the person in charge of adapting all of this information into this slick, readable package--is Chris McDonnell, whose work was previously applied on the Art and Origins book.
The foreword is by N.K. Jemisin, a well-known science fiction author who's a huge fan of the show (and wrote a really excellent series that also has a weird geological connection, by the way).
And the cover, like its predecessor, is shiny and decorated with a beach scene featuring minimalistic characters--this time it's the Gems at night in front of the Temple, and on the back cover is a big pink leg ship in a cross-legged pose.
The interior covers are decorated with tons of amazing sketches of Steven and Connie on the front, and a bunch of Gem sketches on the back. Every interior page that most would leave blank is highlighted with some kind of sketch art or character exercise--it's so much to look at, so much to absorb.
The book is dedicated "For Eddie."
Its organization is different from the previous book in that it shares applicable work in chunks associated with groups of episodes rather than pertaining to different aspects of building the show.
FOREWORD
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N.K. Jemisin gives us such a great introduction to the book--apparently understanding very well that the audience of this book is full of animation enthusiasts and adult fans more than it is full of kids, and explaining that bewildering journey some adults had from blowing this show off as a silly kid thing to falling in love with it hard and fast.
The important thing, Jemisin says, is being able to trust a storyteller with your heart. And it was clear to her that Rebecca Sugar knew what she was talking about and was saying important things about identity and the radical power that comes with accepting it and demanding respect.
Important also is how we handle heroes and who gets to be one in fantasy. That's part of the reason Steven Universe speaks to so many--because we see ourselves here, and know stories can be about us. Acknowledging the power we all have to MAKE THINGS BETTER with what we fight for is so important--especially if we're going to speaking to the next generation about it.
Highlighting Rose Quartz as a "born leader" who failed and Steven as a relatable scamp who did what she couldn't, Jemisin asserts that we can save the world.
1. END OF AN ERA
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We start with an appeal to the audience to think about identity and the formative parts of our childhood--and how different it is if who you are and who you become is restricted, mocked, erased, or Not Allowed. Most people, if not ALL people, can relate to this, but for those of us with a special relationship with Steven Universe because of queer identity, this hits hard.
But it doesn't have to be anything grand to be something we respect--this show's authenticity comes largely from how personal everything is, drawn from real-life experiences and incidental truths from each artist's perspective, leaning hard on childhood and formative experiences.
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Rebecca Sugar offers some interview bits to discuss writing philosophy and why "writing female characters" was difficult for a nonbinary person who'd been socialized as a girl and a woman. Rebecca has spoken before about how frustrating it is that marketing for cartoons was SO gendered when she was growing up (and to some extent still is).
The Gems in the story are all "she/her," but on their planet they're defined by their work, not by emotion or relationships (unlike women in our society), so having them be socialized opposite to how she was and be able to claim those emotions through choice and NOT as just an expectation "as women" was revolutionary. Rebecca wants her show to tell all marginalized people that they don't deserve to be in the margins.
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Weighing in on other aspects of the show were Ian Jones-Quartey, Joe Johnston, and Miki Brewster. Ian describes feeling like at first doing SU was a thrill ride that meant they'd finally get to do all the cool stuff, but it quickly became a responsibility that he took very seriously--the need to tell a good story now that he'd been given a megaphone.
Promotional art, planning documents, character sketches, and concept art from the lighthearted to the stone serious is included, along with some very cool (sort of famous) timeline charts that track major characters' developments. It's emphasized by Rebecca that the developmental materials ARE NOT CANON (and especially are not MORE canon) compared the final show.
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There are concept sketches alongside final art for Aquamarine and Topaz in "Wanted" (with Topaz labeled "Imperial Topaz"), the Zircons in "The Trial," Blue and Yellow Diamond, and the Off Colors (including Pink Lars).
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And there's also a spread of "the two sides of Steven's life: Gem Magic and Rock N Roll" featuring Sadie Killer and the Suspects (referred to as "Buck's band")--as well as a cool "Crew Cameos" key and some concepts for short-haired Connie.
And then there's some more "finished" art with stills alongside concepts, including some background art, revision, and really cool "fairytale" art from some of the shadowplay storytelling bits. We get "Lars of the Stars," "Jungle Moon," and "Can't Go Back."
2. THE BEGINNING OF THE END: A SINGLE PALE ROSE
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In discussing the huge reveals and Gem mysteries in the show, the pacing is examined, and emphasis is put on the intended "slow burn." One of the most difficult things in the show was to strategize so that every piece that was needed to support another piece in the future was placed properly to seed what it was supposed to.
Some of the ideas they developed were more of a group effort and were fit together collaboratively (like Amethyst's being younger than the other Gems and Jasper being from Earth), while others were intended from the beginning based on Rebecca's vision (the fundamental idea of Pink Diamond's true identity, for instance, as well as Obsidian's design and sword and our Pearl not being Pink's first).
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The writing process gets a great deep dive here, including fun tidbits like how the orb in the moon base was inserted by Joe Johnston and they literally had no idea what it was for when they wrote the episode. They repurposed it when they figured out what they needed.
Rebecca credits her detailed timelines for helping keep the order straight, and discusses how other artists are sometimes flabbergasted that a storyboard-driven show can have this much detail and continuity and yet not get wrecked by the free non-scripted boarding process. But Rebecca and the Crew valued that approach and loved the way fresh eyes would handle an idea, making it come back alive, entertaining, vivid.
Several Crew members weigh in on the writing process. Lauren Hecht refers to making lots of incorrect guesses despite being on the inside. Joe Johnston recalled getting briefed on his first day and getting so excited to start working on this massive project.
Miki Brewster remembered being told Rose Quartz is Pink Diamond and being shocked--and also confused about why Ruby and Sapphire would need to be married if they're already basically married. Drew Green talks about being brought in late and getting to watch unaired episodes and a rough of the movie while eating cereal.
Ian Jones-Quartey complains about Pink Diamond's real jester-like form being leaked to the internet through a Hot Topic shirt. Rebecca piggybacks on that and says it was upsetting that the wedding was leaked because of toy fair keychains featuring Ruby and Sapphire in wedding attire. They'd always be worried about leaks, and sometimes Rebecca struggled not to talk about the reality of Pink Diamond before the reveal because she knew it would make so much more sense once the truth was out. And everything associated with Rose makes more sense once you know she's Pink--especially what happened with Bismuth, considering what we know about how Pink Diamond has a habit of treating anyone who no longer serves her interests.
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When it comes to visual cues, Rebecca also talks about intentional designs to create a feeling of unity between concepts, like the flower shapes on Pink Diamond's palanquin lining up with the poofs of Steven's hair and the star imagery of the series. Steven Sugar and Mary Nash discuss how the Human Zoo incorporated this imagery, trying to look like Homeworld with a Pink Diamond touch.
Steven Sugar, as a game nerd, liked to throw in video game references from old and modern stuff to feel like he's inserting what he's enjoying and who he is from moment to moment, while Mary Nash, who related to Sadie as a basement-dwelling young person with cult interests, liked to include stuff from MST3K and cult movies. Pearl's hand gestures get a spotlight too--her reflex to cover her mouth when Pink Diamond was being discussed was analyzed here.
A "Top Secret Visual Timeline" from 2016 is included which tells us some Diamond history. It has an earlier version of Pink Pearl's fate and does not include Spinel since the movie hadn't been greenlit. The timeline includes the birth of the Diamonds, the emergence and major story beats for each major character, and some philosophy of the driving force behind each.
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We're told that Pink Diamond straightened up, behavior-wise, after she lost her first Pearl, and that Yellow and Blue wanted to give her a planet but White only agreed to it to prove she would fail at managing a colony. Pearl, meanwhile, is so confused to have a Diamond who keeps asking her what she thinks when she doesn't believe she should have opinions.
And when Pink moonlighted as Rose to start conflict, she found herself leading an army to fight Pink's troops--then Yellow's, and eventually Blue's too. Lapis is said to be waiting for the conflict to end on Earth so she can terraform, but she gets trapped instead.
Pearl's love story with Rose is described as "an endless honeymoon" where she's free to love her, while Rose's is more like "I'm now the head of the family and I'm going to give everyone what they never had, so everyone is super special!"
Jasper is described as "adopted" into Yellow's army as the only successful Beta Quartz. And White Diamond knew that Pink Diamond was not dead--she thought she was just running away from home like a brat and would eventually be back.
3. THE HEART OF THE CRYSTAL GEMS
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Now we discuss Rose Quartz--the original Pink Diamond. How she was selfish and selfless, never enough and always too much, and how Greg was her first partner who "challenged her" to be an equal. Rebecca describes Rose as being delighted by the idea that both she and Greg reinvented themselves, but when that leads her to want to share her past, Greg isn't interested--he only wants to know who she is now, and doesn't consider the old her to be her.
Rebecca likes Carl Jung's concept of "enantiodromia," which is the idea that extremes lead to their extreme opposite. This is demonstrated in all of the Diamonds. This narrative is interspersed with drawings of Greg and Rose being cute.
But another "heart" of the Crystal Gems is its relationships--particularly, Garnet, the fairy tale romance embodied. More psychological theories are discussed with regard to differentiation in a relationship making the relationship stronger, and how they made sure that happened for Garnet during the appropriate arc. Rebecca has struggled with the idea that she, like Ruby, went straight from a "family" group to a living-with-others situation and never lived by herself. But she also learned that you can in fact develop as a person in the context of a relationship--you don't have to be alone to do it. Ruby learned that too, and chose on her own terms to be with Sapphire.
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The wedding made so much sense to Rebecca and the crew that they couldn't imagine a wholesome couple like Ruby and Sapphire not having a wedding episode. They wanted it for years: The wedding concepts always included the tuxedo for Sapphire and the wedding dress for Ruby.
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But pushback (often blamed on the conservative standards of the international market) led to negotiations trying to keep Ruby and Sapphire's relationship from being explicit. Rebecca and the Crew were very tired of this double standard, and they were especially irritated by attempts to claim a wedding wouldn't be well received by a core demographic or wouldn't make sense for Steven's character. But other shows had done weddings and Steven had been established to love weddings already.
Rebecca kept adding more elements to the wedding episode to answer all the concerns, but she didn't want to back down from explicit marriage between these characters. They deserved it. And the audience deserved to see this as wholesome, like any other cartoon wedding. Eventually they got their way and were allowed to have the wedding. But the ordered episodes were also coming to a close without promise of more, so Rebecca had to request more episodes to be able to wrap up the storyline!
And of course, there is Steven, the true heart of the team. A very interesting aside discusses Garnet's leadership and how the network pushed the Crewniverse to acknowledge Steven as the leader. This was successfully resisted throughout as well--because Garnet is the leader (unless she's incapacitated, of course). It's fantastic that this concept was preserved because too often a young male chosen one is elevated above people with more experience and knowledge because of that chosen one tradition, so it's really nice to have a show acknowledge that team leadership is more appropriate for an adult.
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4. ERA 3
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Beginning with a discussion of the Diamonds, this chapter deconstructs the dysfunctional "family" of the Diamonds (who are said to be based on tropes about evil stepmothers and stepsisters), with the thread of dysfunction originating with White Diamond.
Yellow is physical, Blue is emotional, White is judgmental, and Pink is impulsive. Some philosophy on why Pink is naturally manipulative and why she clashes so much with White is offered.
White believes her identity is to be imposed on all because she is the pinnacle of what should be--and therefore, she has the right to make decisions and statements about and on behalf of everyone. But her secret is that she can't do what the others do--act or feel or want. In trying to be everyone, she is no one.
And this becomes very important when she confronts Steven about his identity and turns out to be wrong. The triumph of Steven being totally, fully himself is a beautiful, simple revelation that's described as far more satisfying than the theories about Pink living inside him or Rose returning from his Gem.
Also discussed is Gem architecture. A lot went into this idea, and Steven Sugar weighs in to say he had to think of what it would mean for a world to have buildings but serve no human needs. That's why it's mostly focused on transport and storage. Even the broken planet is meant to indicate a place stripped for its resources, and everything serves a function that is meant to avoid looking like the human equivalents.
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And there's another layer, too: a difference between Era 1 and Era 2. Era 2 became more functional to hide Era 1's broken bits, and older Homeworld buildings still have some "ornate and ancient" feel to them. And the fact that props, tools, and even walls and doors could be living was taken from a concept Rebecca thought was horrible from old Busby Berkeley movies, where people were inanimate objects and it was portrayed as lovely. Tom Herpich helped conceptualize these living objects.
Steven dealing with "princess tropes" is discussed here too. The Pebbles (worked on with Pendleton Ward) were sort of his Cinderella's mice, and all the locked-in-a-tower, having supportive tiny friends help you, getting princess clothes made, attending a ball, having to mind your manners stuff was intentionally related to fairy tales.
The point of doing that (besides fun) was to easily invoke the feeling that Steven was being made to be someone he's not, and that he was being treated like THIS is who he really is when it isn't. White Diamond as the "evil stepmother" is discussed with regard to her detailed features and massive scale. They generally didn't put fingernails and eyelashes on characters (especially not to indicate that they were women or girls!), but they decided White would get all of these feminine markers for tradition's sake.
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Rebecca also invokes several other references that were included and describes the princess tropes as "chipping away at his integrity" setting him up for the final challenge with White.
There is again tons of concept art: Homeworld architecture, Pebbles, Diamond diagrams, background Jades and Lemon Jade Fusion, Comby, Diamond extraction chambers, and White Diamond.
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5. CHANGE YOUR MIND
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Now we finally begin to discuss Steven's identity. The "Perfect Steven," discussed in several interviews before this book's release, was an idea back in 2013; the "ultimate Steven," beefed up and shonen-looking, was far from perfect because OUR Steven is perfect, while this alpha hero Steven idea (used in Steven Universe Future) didn't belong being idolized in such a show.
They thought about having Steven fall apart into organic half and Gem half early in the show (during "Giant Woman" after a successful fusion and unfusion, even!), but they didn't try the concept until the last episode. They didn't want the "Pink" Steven to be portrayed as "better" even though he would be more powerful, so they decided he isn't whole without his organic self and he's just as much of a shell as the organic half. They absolutely did not want any ending that required Rose to be inside him or waiting to come back. But the debates were fierce--what DOES it mean to have Rose's Gem?
Ian Jones-Quartey brings in an anecdote about his own family to emphasize some of the immigrant themes that inspired aspects of the show. He had a brother who reinvented himself elsewhere away from family without resolving issues, and all the ramifications of that were explored in the show through Rose Quartz. (He is careful to say he doesn't think his immigrant experience is like being from another planet!) But he did say you can hurt your old family even if they were toxic or didn't know the real you, and you can hurt your new family by hiding your past. The Pizza family of course was also a more direct reference to Ian's Ghanaian family.
In talking about the new Fusions from this episode, Sunstone is largely described by Miki, who also got to board the Sunstone section. Sunstone was described as a cool 1990s character and the evolution just continued into making them a fourth-wall-breaking PSA dispenser. Obsidian is also discussed, with their sword being an early concept. Steven Sugar said they totally knew it would be forged in action. Obsidian being similar to the Temple design is of course another very early detail.
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The story of how James Baxter got involved with one of the final scenes (Organic Steven and Pink Steven fusing in front of White Diamond) was shared. His family was fans of the show and Rebecca Sugar took the time to drive to a birthday party for his daughter and give her a drawing. He then owed her a favor, and this was it.
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Concept art is again included, this time with sample boards, promo images, a Diamond fight concept, costume design changes for the Gems, new Fusions, the so-called "Mega Diamond" ship conglomerate, some scenes from the White Diamond confrontation, Pink Steven, multiple pages of James Baxter animation, corrupted Gems and their healed selves, and photos from the "Change Your Mind" premiere and some awards. The show has won one design-related Emmy, a Peabody Award, and a GLAAD award.
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6. STEVEN UNIVERSE FUTURE
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The book doesn't cover the movie because it got its own book, but dives right into Future. Ian Jones-Quartey emphasizes that the movie and Future are separate and different from the original show, which ENDED. After all, after that, Steven has a neck!
Some new names are invoked now: new writers Kate Tsang, Jack Pendarvis, and Taneka Stotts. They were excited to have Steven make HIS OWN mistakes instead of trying to clean up someone else's! Now, instead of doing the usual shonen anime thing and having the final battle be a big physical rumble, Steven has to make peace with himself and take an active role in coping with what all the fighting has done to him and what effect it's had on who he is (and who he wants to be). There is no sudden "I love myself!" answer, either. It's always a process.
Drew Green and Maya Petersen, who came on board as storyboarders officially in Future, also weighed in on writing for a "mature" show, how to deal with Steven being a "moral compass" while being sort of unreliable, and what they learned as Crew that they didn't know as fans. Drew didn't know Garnet never asks questions. Jack didn't realize the show never deviated from Steven's point of view. Taneka was nervous but excited to collaborate. Kate was worried about how established the show was and what to do as a new writer to contribute appropriately.
Maya was on the old Crew but not as a storyboarder, so felt like some of the "old" ideas ended up not being appropriate for the "new" Future in an embarrassing way--and dreaded the idea of dealing with Steven's emotional problems when they were similar to stuff she'd been through. She also was personally behind the idea of Steven wanting to dump his problems by becoming Stevonnie, and got to work with Etienne Guignard on inventing the Pearl creation backstory with Volleyball.
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There's some discussion of "depression hobbies," stress, and the show's pacing. And they say Etienne was entertaining at pitches. There's even some discussion of how Greg is taken off a bit of a pedestal because his terrible restrictive life in the suburbs sounded wholesome to Steven and Greg presented it negatively.
And then there is some information about how the Crew felt behind the scenes due to fan reactions and negative press. Ian discusses feeling offended when the Black characters are described as bad examples, as if their cartoonized but realistic-in-context features are automatically caricatures.
Rebecca Sugar felt beaten down by some of these narratives and began to access mental health services, inspiring some of the content of "Mindful Education." A long reflection from Rebecca discusses people's infighting about her show and what she had a responsibility to show or not show in the story. She learned a lot about bullying from Cartoon Network's anti-bullying program and learned that bullies thrive on whatever attention you give them--unless it is made clear to them by a peer group that no one is impressed by their cruel actions. Also, not all negative feedback is bullying. Constructive criticism is different. Self-awareness can help you avoid internalizing what bullies might do or say to you.
Segueing from the discussion of how people are affected by and connect with the show, we then discuss how they chose as a team what should be covered as the show came to a close. They didn't have time to do quite a few stories they wanted time for, like a Rhodonite story, a Lars side story, and Diamond "prehistory" and religion; all of it was put aside for the main arc with Steven.
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They thought people would find those stories about Homeworld and Off Color history very interesting, but so much of the show had been about Steven's Gem adventures, so keeping him mostly on Earth seemed appropriate. The acknowledgment of his battle damage, of his trauma, was necessary and real, and helpful in an important way to the core audience.
Oh, and there was some stuff about a cheeseburger tree. Don't ask.
In discussing the "reverse escapism" of the original show (Gem aliens are intrigued by everyday human culture, and realism is necessary), Rebecca says her views have changed on escapism and gets why some people want a soothing feel-better show. She acknowledged also that her own escapist dreams-come-true fulfilled in the show didn't feel like escapism because they were givens to the majority of mainstream culture, but were never guaranteed to marginalized people.
Rebecca ties in her several-times-told story about "Love Like You" and how the middle bit was when she didn't feel she was worth looking up to, and the realizations she had to tie the beginning to the end. Feeling like someone will like you less if they know you more is terrible. So sometimes a show like this can be helpful in telling people that they belong when their fantasies are things like "I want to be loved" and "I want to know I exist."
In Future, Steven has to connect to who he is and love that person--and understand that person enough to finally feel that even if he's not fixing their problems or saving their world right this second, Steven deserves his family's love and support, and they WANT to give it to him.
There's a huge amount of supplemental material in this section so there's no way I could name it all. The charts for Future's timeline are pretty straightforward, though a few episodes like "A Very Special Episode," "Why So Blue," "In Dreams," and "Bismuth Casual" aren't specifically represented and a couple are in a different order ("Prickly Pair" was conceived as happening after "Fragments" and "Homeworld Bound").
Steven feeling like a monster, having intrusive thoughts, having not forgiven the Diamonds, and getting help/moving on--it's all there.
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We have keys, color scripts, and boards for the new opening and some various backgrounds and storyboard art from episodes. Model sheets for Shep, Nice Lapis and Mean Lapis, Jasper, Steven Tag Gems, Pink Steven Powers, Monster Steven. New house concepts, Era 3 Homeworld concept art for the Diamond environments, and background art for the Reef.
New Connie and Greg designs. Concepts for Mega Pearl, the Rose Quartzes, Bluebird, and Morganite (who didn't get used). And there are some photos from recording and the conference room. There are even some extras from "Crossover Nexus," the crossover with OK K.O.!--including an unused cut scene that included Ruby and Sapphire fighting. The rest of the book is a bunch of adorable Crewniverse art--extras, blog drawings, promos, and gifts to each other.
NOTABLE
1.
The first timeline chart in the book features a cool sketch of the original Off Colors, which at the time this planning document was drafted included unused Off Colors Flint and Chert.
We knew of their existence already because of an episode of the podcast, but these two unexpectedly appeared as incidental characters in the Steven Universe Future episode "Homeworld Bound," identified only in the credits. Sad to think that instead of banding with the Off Colors, these two were probably shattered for their crime (being Quartzes who don't want to fight) and that's why we see them being repaired in this episode. Later, there's some brainstorming for types of Off Colors and "a Ruby that wants to wear limb enhancers" is mentioned as well.
2. 
It looks like there was also originally more juice to the story of tracking down the events of the war culminating in Pink Diamond's assassination.
One of the timelines talks about Steven thinking it makes sense that Pearl can't talk about her involvement because she might have been a double agent, explaining why Rose Quartz always knew what Pink Diamond was doing. It seems like that bit was supposed to be included in Garnet's version of the story she believed in "Your Mother and Mine." Seems like they originally conceived Garnet's story to inspire the Off Colors to become pirates and freedom fighters, though in the show's canon this storytelling happened after Lars had already reinvented himself the way he did.
Sadie was also supposed to be sending letters to Lars via Steven, which is funny since the "Letters to Lars" episode is just a montage Steven letter. And of course it's specified that Steven was supposed to get Pink Diamond flashbacks by going to the Palace on Homeworld.
3. 
The second chart in the book makes references to Sadie's reinvention of herself as a parallel to Lars, Greg, and Pink Diamond all doing the same thing, and how positive it is to embrace such a thing--a version of yourself that YOU create.
I love that Yellow Diamond's arm ship arm-wrestling the Cluster was always part of the plan.
There's some more explicit direction to have Connie help Steven understand the Diamonds as "strict parents," and a lot more emphasis on everyone realizing Rose had been inspired by THEM rather than them all following her.
White Diamond is presented here as if she thinks of Pink Diamond as a "daughter" (whom she now understands she has "lost"). There are notes on how the Diamonds have a responsibility to their children and should attend to it before just continuing to make more.
4.
One of the concept art images for the Off Colors features Rhodonite crouching by Padparadscha saying "Don't worry, I won't let them hurt you." It's very interesting because she DOES seem to protect Padparadscha in the show, but doesn't seem confident about it in her final version, even though it does seem like she'd be "programmed" to guard aristocratic Gems because of her Ruby and Pearl makeup. Cool.
5.
A "Crew Cameos" spread was included, which is of great interest to some of us who loved seeing the Crew insert themselves into the show. Not every SU Crew person who's been represented in a crowd was there, but this crowd included Amish Kumar, Kat Morris, Amanda Winterstein, Angie Wang, Lamar Abrams, Emily Walus, Mary Nash, Joe Johnston, Christy Cohen, Danny Cragg, Hilary Florido, Danny Hynes, Matt Burnett, Ben Levin, Elle Michalka.
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6.
The official national flower of South Korea, Hibiscus syriacus, is the name of Pink Diamond's flower.
7.
One of Steven Sugar's comments about the silhouette difference between humans and Gems points out that humans have ears. This seems to be pretty good confirmation that they are not supposed to have ears, despite that sometimes we'll see ears drawn on them in some frames.
8.
Rose Quartz/Pink Diamond is characterized in this book as "self-hating" in a really interesting way, saying that because she believed she was not capable of compassion, she practically worshiped those who demonstrated that ability and thought they were so much better than her--which is described as "intoxicating" and resulted in others being drawn to her. How interesting is that!
9.
Timelines reveal that early plans for Pink Diamond's first Pearl originally had her getting destroyed by Pink during  a game, and then her destruction was rewritten as a punishment from the Diamonds after Pink Pearl defended Pink Diamond to the other Diamonds. They went back to the idea of her getting hurt by Pink for the final version, though the cracked face and control by White Diamond was not on the agenda until they started writing "Change Your Mind."
10.
The approximate ages of the major characters, based on emergence, are revealed on these timelines. It begins with a cracked-planet-looking graphic depicting four tiny Diamonds emerging at 20,000 years ago. Some suspicious "blacked out" redacting surrounds a long timeline tail that goes back before that, which may mean there are secrets they still don't want to reveal. But the dates go like this:
20,000 years ago: The Diamonds emerge.
11,000 years ago: Pearl is custom-made for Pink Diamond.
8,000 years ago: Sapphire emerges (on Homeworld).
6,000 years ago: Ruby emerges (on a colony).
5,750 years ago: Garnet is formed.
5,600 years ago: Lapis is poofed and put in the mirror.
5,200 years ago: Jasper emerges (on Earth).
5,050 years ago: The Cluster is planted.
5,000 years ago: Amethyst emerges (on Earth).
4,500 years ago: The Crystal Gems found Amethyst.
3,000 years ago: Peridot emerges (on Homeworld).
40 years ago: Pearl found Lapis's mirror at the Galaxy Warp.
And of course we know 14 years ago Steven is born!
11.
Originally the Diamonds were based on a quartet of themes: Love, Fear, Pride, and Sorrow. It got too complicated to keep and it was abandoned, with Pink's identification of "love" being described as "particularly outdated."
12.
Notes on a sketch say that Pearl was inspired to become bold and unashamed because Pink's questions drove her to have opinions, and it's said that Rose "fell in love" with her boldness.
13.
Rebecca tells the story of driving off a ridge and getting stuck in the desert, comparing this to Ruby's tumble during her Wild West adventure and using it as inspiration. She's told this story before but here it is in print. She also included the story about using the flowers from a friend's wedding to put in Ruby's hair.
14.
Rebecca describes having to "fight" notes she was given when it had to do with Ruby and Sapphire's relationship. One she describes as NOT fighting was for a signing card depicting Ruby and Sapphire dancing. It was called "too romantic" and she decided not to worry about it since it wasn't the actual show content.
She was also scolded over her book The Answer because the powers that be expected her to downplay that relationship. She always argued that queer youth deserved these things.
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15.
Tom Herpich describes being inspired to name Blue Diamond's comb "Comby" because he was watching the news about Comey getting fired from the FBI. It's also a mineral-related term and I always assumed that reference was intentional, but maybe it's not and this is the only intended significance to Comby's name?
16.
Rainbow Quartz 2.0's design is not discussed, though the other two new Fusions from "Change Your Mind" (Sunstone and Obsidian) were. RQ2 has some sketches included, but no accompanying narrative in the text.
17.
A sheet of corrupted Gems and their healed selves is offered, though it doesn't appear to be final. The obelisk in "Serious Steven" is labeled Albite. The unnamed Worm Monster, Desert Glass, and Watermelon Tourmaline are included. An unnamed birdlike Gem represents the Big Bird monster from "Giant Woman." The crab monster from "Arcade Mania" is labeled Blue Chalcedony. The Tongue Monster is drawn uncorrupted but not named. The Flower Monster from "Back to the Kindergarten" is labeled Grossular Diopside or Titanite. The invisible monster from "Island Adventure" is labeled Moonstone. The Lighthouse Gem is labeled White Topaz. A form for Larimar that was used in "Change Your Mind" but changed in Future is there. The Slinker is listed as Chrysocolla. And the Crab Monster is listed as Aventurine.
On the next page, this is changed to Bixbite (as it was in Steven Universe Future), and we then also have Lace Amethyst, Blue Lace Agate, Crazy Lace Agate (Fusion), Ocean Jasper, the Mother Centipeetle Nephrite (Facet 413 Cabochon 12) and three other Nephrites, Angel Aura Quartz, a hooded Jasper, Zebra Jasper, Biggs Jasper, Watermelon Tourmaline (labeled as Fusion of Gem * Onion--huh?), Snowflake Obsidian, "Little" Larimar, and Orange Spodumene (who was the Worm).
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18.
The Rhodonite side story would have been about the love story of a Ruby and a Pearl working for Morganite. Images of Morganite and her servants, unfused, are in the book. We do not get this additional information, but Rebecca said in a panel shortly before the book's release that Rhodonite's story would have been about finding out that she had been Rejuvenated 17 times because her components kept falling in love and needing to be reset.
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19.
Referring to the Diamonds on one of the charts, Steven's perspective is "I can't believe I helped these" and then there's a censor bar. Welp.
20.
Some included art by Hilary Florido features Kevin with a souped-up Koala Princess car and another where Kevin is staring at himself in the mirror in front of an altar to himself.
21.
Rebecca's sweater collection is included in the Crew art.
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[SU Book and Comic Reviews]
142 notes · View notes
sungie · 3 years
Text
𝐤𝐞𝐧𝐦𝐚 𝐛𝐞𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐰𝐢𝐭𝐡 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐰𝐡𝐞𝐧 𝐲𝐨𝐮’𝐫𝐞 𝐞𝐱𝐩𝐞𝐫𝐢𝐞𝐧𝐜𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐝𝐞𝐩𝐫𝐞𝐬𝐬𝐢𝐯𝐞 𝐬𝐲𝐦𝐩𝐭𝐨𝐦𝐬
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𝐚/𝐧: this is the first of my haikyuu! pieces, and i hope it helps make some of you like me who’ve been dealing with depression feel a little bit better.  kenma would love you so much.  thank you for reading!
- - 
kenma is the first to notice when something’s wrong 
suddenly you’re smiling a little too much.  and sure, you’ve always had a dry sense of humor, but this? this is different.  
he notices when your laugh seems hollow, almost.  and he notices it again when he looks at your smile and feels it flickering, and then again, when he watches you walk away, realizing that your gaze looks a little too much like his. and that scares him. 
when the two of you sit together on the bus because you’d tagged along to one of his volleyball games, you gaze blankly at the freeway and turn the volume up on your shared earphones like it’s the only thing that matters, the only thing that’ll drown everything out. and that’s when kenma knows for sure, what’s going on.  at least, only until after he recovers from the blaring ring short-circuiting around his left eardrum. 
kenma won’t tell you he knows, but suddenly he’s everywhere you go. 
kenma’s just ... there.  he’ll sit beside you and greet you with a nod, playing his video games while you’re working on homework.  or at least, as you try to work on homework.  every so often he’ll look up from his game to glance at you with one of his piercing stares, and it feels a little bit like he sees right through you. 
and maybe he does. 
and then, sometimes, if you’re lucky and meet his gaze, you’ll get a rare smile, one that’s slowly starting to become slightly less rare.
kenma starts packing a little extra food for school.  he never brought any before, but sometimes he’ll watch with wide eyes as you’ll tumble into class in disarray, and by the looks of your face, you’ve just managed to down a bit of coffee before running out the front door and into the classroom, a few seconds before the tardy bell.  he doesn’t say anything except reach behind him and place a pre-packaged bread from the convenience store onto your desk. sometimes you’ll catch a glimpse of his face, but usually, he doesn’t turn around. he’s too embarrassed that you’ll find his actions weird.  but he can’t help it.  he cares.
kenma doesn’t really like sharing his video games.  i mean, they’re his. and he doesn’t like sharing. he often finds himself hunching over his switch, or tucking it away when people pass by.  it’s his way of blending in, of making sure people look past him and forget.  but as you come to sit beside him at lunch increasingly more and more often, he simply hands you his phone or portable game console and watches you play with genuine curiosity.  it feels natural. 
the two of you have been close for a while, but you’ve always had your own friend groups. somehow these lines get smudged further and further, and now kenma finds himself waiting for you outside nearby classes, looking up and blinking in confusion to see you standing next to kuroo at their normal space during lunch, waiting for him.  and then you’re even sticking around to walk randomly with him when he doesn’t have practice. 
“it doesn’t matter. i don’t really care,” you say plainly, as kenma asks when you need to get back home or leave to study. 
“you don’t?” he asks, and it’s funny, really.  because kenma feels the same, most days.
“like, what’s the point,” you say, laughing softly.  flippantly.  “i don’t know.  i’m just tired.”
kenma nods.  but then, because he needs to, because he’s worried, “why?” 
“just numb.”  you shrug.  “it’s okay. don’t worry, kenma.”
kenma knows there’s stuff going on, he can see you battling with whether to say something or bottle it up even further, but he also sees a whim of confusion pass over your eyes because deep down, you don’t even know why you feel like this.  it just is.
“come on,” kenma says, finally, cheeks flushed as he dares to lightly tug on your hoodie sleeve.  “yakitori or imagawayaki?” 
later he facetimes you because you’re still up.  he knows this from your response to one of his texts from a few days ago.  it’s now that you tell him you haven’t done any work. it’s two o’clock in the morning.
“but … don’t you have a test tomorrow?” 
“yeah,” you mumble.  “and i haven’t started studying, or homework.”
kenma bites his lip.  “why?”
“i don’t know.  i just can’t.” 
and he sees your easy, exasperated smile, sees the way you’re implying, i’m okay, really, kenma, go to sleep, but he also notices the way your voice catches, the way you’re blinking and staring up at your light, and then, the clench in your jaw. 
“i still have stuff to do,” kenma lies, and he gets up to walk to his desk.  “i’ll stay up with you.”
you nod, grateful, and kenma pretends to be working but doodles lines and spirals on a piece of paper, slowly sketching out the patterns of spirals that directly correlate to attack patterns and combination hits in his game. he doesn’t normally do this.  he doesn’t normally make the effort, but he thinks you need it.  he tells you in a sleep-raspy voice about volleyball practice, and the way the city lights look at night, and the onigiri he wants to buy at the convenience store tomorrow, and do you think you might want one?
he won’t nag you, won’t throw more toxic positivity on you because he knows people do that too much already, and you’re tired of it.  but he keeps talking to you softly, even slowly murmuring whatever comes into his mind because he watches as his voice seems to ground you, and soon you’re picking up your mechanical pencil and writing some notes down while he speaks.
normally it would embarrass him, but right now, half-awake and just knowing that he wants to make sure you’re okay, nothing else matters.  
he falls asleep momentarily, but catches himself and flushes. he’s embarrassed, mind already racing that you’ll expose his lie, but luckily you’re looking down at your schoolwork.  kenma feels something pinch at his heart.
you both stay on the call late into the morning, and soon it’s time to go to school. you’ve managed to get the homework done.  you’re not finished studying, not by a long shot, but it’s something.  and as you tell kenma that, the smile he gives you makes you feel like things are alright.
he’s been over to your house plenty.  and you’re organized, mostly.  but today as the two of you stop by your house to pick up a forgotten textbook, kenma catches a glimpse of your room.  it’s a mess.  more than a mess.  
he’s not stupid, he knows the state of your room reflects your mental state.  and right now?  your room is a disaster.  an absolute fucking disaster. 
he stubbornly won’t let the both of you leave.  he helps you pick up the clothes thrown on the floor and gathers all the dishes and cups from your room, even going to the extent of making your bed, so you don’t have to sleep curled up on the rare expanse of empty floor while he huffs and clears off space on your desk so you can do homework.
he doesn’t know how you manage, like this.  but he also supposes that’s why you’ve been able to hide it for so long, keep going for so long. 
“do you want to talk about it?” kenma asks one day, his eyes contemplating.  trying to figure something out.  thinking.  he doesn’t want to impose, doesn’t want to make things worse, doesn’t want to push you away. 
“about what?”  you shake your head.  “i’m fine.”
“oh,” kenma says, looking away and down at the people walking beneath the overpass.  
“what?” 
“but ... “
and as you wait for him to continue, he shrugs, defeated. 
“you’re not fine.”
you blink at kenma.
the corner of his mouth tugs to the side, and then he hands you his video game console as offering of peace.  “we don’t have to talk about it.  but ... (y/n)?” 
and the way he says your voice is so soft.  kenma doesn’t address you by name often, but when he does, the way it rolls off his tongue makes you feel as if he’s talking about something so special, and you’re afraid to think too much about what it means.
“yeah?” you whisper, your voice caught in your throat.
“i know.  and it’s okay.”
kenma doesn’t meet your gaze, expecting you to take the console and then things will go right back to how they’ve always been, with both of you dancing around this dark cloud that gets heavier and heavier as weeks pass. 
but you’re not taking the console.  slowly, kenma’s gaze flickers back to yours, and his lips part. 
your eyes are changing.  it’s like something he’s said knocked down a few walls.  there’s still a smile on your face, it’s enough to fool most people, but kenma pinpoints the exact second where it starts ghosting away, and now you’re stepping forward and hugging him.  his eyes widen; he lets out a little sound of surprise.  he can feel you trembling, your voice swollen and catching in your throat when you try to say something.  but you don’t have to.  you don’t have to say anything.  
“it’s okay to take your time,” kenma murmurs in a way that’s so him, and gently, like he’s holding his entire world in his palms (because he is), he lets his arms wrap around you and hugs you back.  “it might not be much, but i’m here.”  and then, more fiercely, “and i’m not leaving. i promise.”
it’s very rare that kenma will initiate affection.  it’s even more rare that kenma will hug you back.  but he does it.  and this time, he doesn’t let go.
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phantom-curve · 3 years
Note
For your prompts: 5. trepverter for Willex, please?
this one kind of got away from me, but hopefully it still mostly captures the essence of the prompt! and if not, it's at least a cute little fluffy Willex moment that I thoroughly enjoyed writing. set in an AU where the boys are alive, here is some flustered Alex ft. supportive Reggie and Luke.
trepverter - a witty response or comeback you think of only after it's too late to use (Rated T for swearing with a Trigger Warning for mentions of homophobic parents)
They say hindsight is 20/20 but Alex never really paid much attention to that until the day he found himself knocked flat on his back, elbows scratched and head pounding as if he had been hit by a freight train instead of an irresponsible skateboarder. It probably didn’t help that he had been in the middle of trying to calm himself down, all the signs of an impending anxiety attack mounting within his system until he had finally just put his feet to the pavement and started walking to get some of the overwhelming energy worked out of his system. He probably could have been more attentive, more aware of exactly where he was going and who was headed his direction, but he figured it would be fine on a random Wednesday morning in October when the tourists weren’t really around and most kids his age were in school.
Alex wasn’t in school because his parents had withdrawn tuition payments after he had finally worked up the courage to tell them he wouldn’t be bringing a nice girl home because he didn’t want to date any girls, in fact he would much prefer to date some boys, but the pressure of keeping his identity a secret hadn’t made that possible either so he was done hiding and he hoped they could accept that. Turns out they couldn’t accept that, or him, once he made it obvious he wasn’t going to go back in the closet or give any girl the chance to “change his mind”. As if that was even possible.
It hadn’t been a big blowout, more of a silent retreat, his parents completely withdrawing any and all support from his life over the course of the last few months. And apparently that included tuition, as Alex had discovered that morning when the school called to inform him they had finished completing his withdrawal forms, and they would be sad to see him go. Which had led him to the boardwalk, and then directly into the path of whatever hooligan that had crashed into him. Maybe if he had just been able to keep his mouth shut for 3 more years he wouldn’t be lying here, breathless and bruised, and still on the cusp of absolutely losing it.
Hindsight, Alex thought to himself as he stared up at the clear blue LA sky, can absolutely kiss my ass.
“Awh, man!” A voice above him whined. “You dinged my board!”
Alex toppled off of the anxiety ledge and straight into an ocean of lost control.
“Dinged your board? Dinged your board!? Dude, you ran me over!”
He punctuated his statement by leaping to his feet, which would have probably been a lot more threatening if he didn’t immediately stagger, hand held to his head as the world spun and his stomach rolled.
“Oh shit.”
The voice cursed quietly, and then Alex felt warm hands against his biceps, steadying him until everything slowly came back into focus. There was a boy standing in front of him, black cracked helmet perched on his head, soft brown eyes staring at him with a tinge of concern and remorse. When it was clear Alex was steady once more, he released his grip and offered an easy-going smile.
“You’re right, man, I totally pancaked you. My bad, are you okay?”
There was a weird feeling in Alex’s gut. Not the kind of sickening wave of nausea he had experienced when he first stood, but more of a fluttery feeling. His brain had quieted somewhat, and he forced himself to take a deep breath.
“Yeah, I’m fine. Just look where you’re going next time.”
His voice came out soft and almost breathy, not at all the warning tone he had meant to use, and Alex could feel his cheeks warming slightly in embarrassment. The other boy’s smile grew. He reached up and unclipped his helmet, lifting it off and then tossing his head back as a cascade of long brown hair tumbled out. A few stray pieces fell to rest alongside his face and Alex felt his mouth fall open slightly. His stomach swooped and then dropped completely, like he had just plummeted from a rollercoaster and his mind went blissfully blank. Everything narrowed down to the absolutely beautiful boy standing in front of him, face awash in golden morning light, cheeks flushed from his exertions, dimples and white teeth on full display as he grinned yet again. Alex wasn’t sure he had ever met someone so blindingly attractive in his entire life, and then the boy winked, winked!, and lifted a hand out towards him.
“I’m Willie.”
It was the best name Alex had ever heard of. When their palms met, a spark shot up his arm and straight to his heart.
“Alex.”
Thank God he remembered how to talk, because he truly hadn’t known what to expect when he opened his mouth. Willie released his grip and Alex left his hand suspended for just a second before he pulled it back and shoved it into the pocket of his jean jacket.
“Nice to meet you, Alex. Listen, I really am sorry about knocking you over. Any chance I can make it up to you?”
It took Alex an uncomfortably long amount of time to process what Willie was asking. Long enough for him to panic and wonder if it was like a date or if it was like a pity thing or oh God what if Willie wasn’t even into guys and Alex was about to make this whole thing super weird and –
A chirping sound came from Willie’s pocket. His eyes flitted away from Alex’s to pull a phone out and check the screen. Alex felt a strange twist in his heart as he watched Willie’s easy smile fall only to be replaced by an annoyed grimace and eyeroll as he silenced the phone. Without skipping a beat, he thrust it back into his pocket and pulled out a sharpie instead. Alex barely had time to register how much he liked the way Willie’s hand felt on his forearm before the other boy was suddenly bent over it and there was a cool sensation sending goosebumps up his arm as the tip of the marker scratched across his skin. When Willie pulled back, that brilliant smile was back in place and his eyebrows were dancing so merrily Alex wanted nothing more than to watch them forever.
“I gotta go, but that’s my number. Text me sometime.”
And then, before Alex could work up the nerve to say anything, Willie was tossing his skateboard to the ground only to chase after it with a few bouncy steps before jumping onto the deck and quickly making his way down the boardwalk, away from Alex. He watched for longer than it was probably acceptable until Willie was nothing more than a speck in the distance. Only then did he look down to see the numbers sketched onto his forearm in orange ink.
(213) 555-3276 Willie<3
It was the heart that did him in. That heart had to mean something, right? It was intentional. Willie had written his name with a heart. Alex wasn’t making that up, it was inked onto his own arm! He studied it as he sat on the beach, mind silently replaying every single second of his short interaction with Willie over and over again while different groups of people came and went around him. There had to be a reason for the heart. Alex fiddled with the braided rainbow bracelet on his wrist, the motion familiar and soothing. Had Willie noticed it when he grabbed Alex’s arm to write his number on? Was the heart some kind of sign?
Alex let out a groan and fell back against the sand, the texture scratchy against the back of his head where a slight throbbing still persisted. Another silent reminder of his morning encounter. He wished he had thought to say something when Willie had asked him about making it up to him. Wished he hadn’t panicked or let his stupid brain go into overdrive worrying about what might happen for so long that nothing ended up happening. If he could go back, he would have told Willie, yeah, he could make it up to him. Maybe take him out to coffee or dinner and a movie or ya know, just any kind of date in general? But Alex wasn’t that smooth, and he wasn’t quite that confident yet. And now all he had was a number in orange ink and a name with a heart and absolutely no answers to the millions of questions crowding his brain.
He let out a deep sigh and sat up again, before finally climbing to his feet. It wouldn’t do to sit and worry, even if that was kind of his specialty. Luke had a girlfriend now. And Julie was incredible, and Luke was a disaster, so obviously the guy had to have some kind of game. Alex couldn’t quite believe it, but maybe he could give him an idea of what to do in this situation. Alex turned his feet towards the apartment the boys had been sharing since Luke turned 18 and left his parents’ house for good and started the long walk back to their shared home.
Luckily, both Luke and Reggie were home, which meant Alex had two sounding boards for his word vomit as he paced in front of where they were sat on the couch. Reggie was kind of like a puppy in the sense that all he had to do was exist and people flocked to him, so he also had more experience than Alex did when it came to figuring out someone’s true intentions after a first meeting. By the time he had finished giving the boys the run down, he was feeling like they might be able to put their collective braincell to use and figure out exactly what the best course of action would be here.
“Yeah, man, I got nothing.”
Alex groaned and Luke held up his hands defensively.
“Look, dude, just cause I’m dating Julie doesn’t mean I know how I pulled it off! I’m just hoping my luck holds out until I can convince her to marry me, okay?”
Reggie was nodding thoughtfully, so Alex held out hope that maybe he would have some words of wisdom.
“I mean, he sounds like he wanted to at least like...talk to you some more, right? Otherwise, he wouldn’t have given you his number. And the heart is promising!”
Alex let it soak in for a second. An idea struck him out of nowhere.
“What if I just text him and tell him he can make it up to me by going on a date?”
“Bold moves, dude. I like it”
Of course, Luke liked it. It was a very Luke-inspired move. But Alex didn’t quite have the same guts as Luke. He didn’t think he could really pull it off.
“Ugh, no. My anxiety would skyrocket the second I sent the text. I just wanna know what the heart means!”
“Why don’t you ask him that then?”
Alex didn’t like how Reggie was the voice of reason here. That was supposed to be his job.
“Because if I ask him that he’ll know I’ve been thinking about it all day.”
“You have been thinking about it all day.”
Alex finally reached his physical limit and stopped his pacing to fling his body onto the couch between Luke and Reggie, both boys catching different limbs and silently shifting to accompany his sudden presence.
“I don’t want him to know I’ve been thinking about it all day! That’s pathetic. Ugh, why didn’t I just say something in the moment!”
Reggie’s fingers were gentle against Alex’s scalp as he carded a hand through his hair reassuringly.
“It’s okay, Lex. You’ll think of something to say when the time is right. Release your worries to the wind and all that other junk, ya know? Just breathe.”
So, Alex breathed and tried to surrender his obsession into the ether. Reggie had been on a bit of a self-help kick lately, but honestly, it did help Alex more often than not, so he resolved to try and follow his best friend’s advice, even as his anxiety raged against the idea.
Turns out, the right time was exactly 11:43 pm when Alex suddenly awoke from a dead sleep where his dreams had been invaded by none other than Willie himself. He looked down at the number, the hastily scribbled name, and the accompanying heart bright against his pale skin even in the darkness of night and typed the message into his phone before he could think twice about it.
To: Willie<3 Considering you pancaked me, I think it’s only fair you make it up to me with a pancake breakfast. 9 am at Sandy’s Diner?
The responding message was almost instantaneous.
You’ve got yourself a date. Catch ya in the morning, pancake ;)
And for the second time that day, Willie wiped Alex’s mind completely blank, the word date playing on repeat until he fell asleep with his lips still curved into a smile, visions of a certain long-haired pretty boy dancing through his head.
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sebbytrash · 4 years
Text
Through His Eyes - Part Twenty (The End)
Summary - Bucky arrives at the compound to start afresh but you and him have a somewhat colorful past, colorful being that you met him once before as The Winter Soldier and it did not go well. New beginnings, yeah? If you can learn to forgive.
Pairing - Bucky x Reader
Warnings -  The end. 
A/N - Gah. I’m literally at a loss for words. This is almost 3 years in the making. My life has changed drastically since I started this. (I’m a mom, yikes.)  I can’t thank you enough for all the wonderful support on this one. It was truly a piece of my heart in words. So yes, the end is here and it’s a little bitter sweet but I might visit these two again one day. I hope this is everything you have been waiting for. <3
HUGE thank you to my other half @manawhaat for her exceptional Betaing as always
Through His Eyes Masterlist
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“Are you sure you wanna do this?” Bucky asks, not for the first time, glancing worriedly down at your forearm.
“The surest.” You reassure him, fix him with your best full wattage smile and roll your sleeve up the rest of the way. The skin tingles in anticipation, or dread, and your heart thumps readily in your chest. It’s time, it says with each beat. 
At your nod, the needle descends and the first painful line of change begins. Bucky shudders at the noise and keeps his eyes on yours, or more accurately, keeps them anywhere but on that needle.
“You know, for an Avenger, you sure are squeamish,” you joke, grab his hand and give it a squeeze when he doesn’t smile back. “It’s just a tattoo, Bucky. Barely even registers.” The tattoo artist catches your eye with a soft smile and you roll your eyes in a playful isn’t-my-boyfriend-cute kinda way. Boyfriend, yeah, it still feels weird to think it, let alone say it. Truthfully, the word doesn’t even come close to what he is to you. The word simply doesn’t exist. 
“I know, I know,” the boyfriend in question says, “I just hate the look of it, s’all.” His mouth twists in that way that tells you he's still concerned and is probably going to be the entire time so you should just let him. 
This moment was a long time coming. You had thought and thought about getting your scars covered, these ones in particular that made wearing short sleeves a nightmare unless you wanted to flash an unintentional Nazi neon to anyone in a 2 metre radius. At first, you held on to them as a reminder, something to keep your heart cold and cruel, and then you held onto them as a shield, something to keep you from growing and forgetting, to keep you from leaving that part of you behind and finding out what was left without it. Now, you ache to transform, to strip away the last of the darkness and move forward with the growing light. That light that Bucky has shined into your life with that stubborn heart and those same unrelenting eyes that warily watch you close this chapter of your life. It will always be with you, be a part of you, but you no longer want it to be you. 
The tattoo itself, flowers chosen for their meaning, would now flow up your forearm with a soft wind replacing the haphazardly cruel branding you endured. Daffodils, meaning rebirth or new beginnings, and Irises for hope. Steve and Wanda had helped you with the design, the former brushing off his old drawing skills to do so and Tony had acquired the artist. Lee, a tall, severe looking man with the softest smile you’d ever seen on someone with a shaved head and ear gauges. He was kind and funny, and everything you needed to put yourself entirely in his hands with this precious piece of your history. 
It takes roughly four hours and Bucky is tense for every single minute of them. Lee spends half his time smirking at you when Bucky starts pacing again or sighs a little too deeply, his intense discomfort is nothing short of hilarious in the end. The finished piece is breathtaking, Lee has taken Steve’s sketch and created something so incredible, you feel the breath forcibly taken from your lungs and words from your mouth. 
“Wow. It’s perfect, Lee.” You stare at it unblinking before glancing at him. “Thank you so much.” 
“You’re welcome, ma’am.” He nods with quiet understanding and busies himself tidying his workstation. You turn to Bucky, tears gathering in the corners of your eyes and you try haplessly to blink them away, a few escape and Bucky steps up close to catch them with his thumb. His eyes reflect yours, and you wonder if it feels as significant to him as it does to you, looking at your arm and seeing that journey etched in colour, bright and beautiful and on display. 
Bucky lets out a breath so large, it’s like he's held it the entire day. "It's beautiful," he says, after a long minute, "It's you." 
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It's still dark when you are catapulted from sleep, your sweet dreams stolen from underneath you in a swift movement just like the blanket so often is by your bedmate. It takes a second for the sound to match what you see, for you put the pieces of your reality together like a puzzle. He's dreaming again, Bucky, a bad one from the sounds being torn from his throat.
He's rigid beside you, muscles and ligaments all turned to stone despite his obvious turmoil. You suspect that it's a part of him that holds on to a sliver of reality, that fights to ensure he doesn't harm you, even now, when he's asleep. It doesn't shock you to discover that even unconscious, he's the best man you know. 
"No. Stop. I can't." He says and the words curdle in the air. You wondered if this would happen, after today and his reaction to the tattoo. His need to protect you runs bone deep and so it’s impossible to run from the dreams on the days he considers you hurt, or hurting. 
You smooth a hand over his face, gently and coaxing, "Shhh, Bucky. I'm right here. I'm with you, I'm safe." The magic words, you'd discovered, were less about his own safety and more about yours. Buttery promises that melt right through the brickhouse dream and pull him back to you. 
He wakes slowly, blinks up at you with those sea storm eyes, rides the crest of a wave in between realities and then blinks again and lets the waters crease and slow, settle into a soft hum. You place a kiss to his brow and leave to grab him a glass of water, giving him a minute to settle so that he isn’t forced to look at you before he’s ready. When you return he's sitting up against the headboard with his body tilted like he's waiting for you to slot right in. He downs the whole glass quickly and then grants you a smile, the smile, the one that makes electricity wake up in the morning. 
"Do you need anything?" You ask, like you always do, letting your fingers lace with his.
"Just you," he answers, pulls you gently to him so he can tuck your head under his chin and his fingers slot against your ribs, let's his breathing slow to match yours and his heartbeat to follow suit. 
It's what you do for each other, when the need arises. Just quiet understanding and quiet support. It doesn't happen often, but when it does, you no longer feel like it's going to strip the skin from your bones or send you plunging into the dark. Now it feels like stitching a wound shut, or rubbing an aching muscle, leaning on each other in a truly honest way despite everything, or maybe because of everything, and it's...nice. There’s not a single part of you that you have to hide from him, or him from you, and that feeling is measureless. There were stars living inside your chest, burning furious and bright, a sunshine heart and a moonlit soul. 
You stay that way long after sleep steals you both back, tangled limbs and tangled scars, and tangled hearts. 
In the morning, his tired eyes are not weary, as they once might have been after such a night. Instead, they hold a promise of a smile inside, the saltwater seas are waveless. His smile comes easily, harbouring a quiet joy he has not yet shared and so you're helpless, swept away in it as his lips take your reason captive. He stops to look at you and you look back at this resilient, gentle man who didn’t try to hide or reconcile all the complex truths inside himself, just simply existed exactly as he was.
“What’s got your face looking like that?” You ask, letting your fingers slide along his jaw in a lazy, familiar way. 
“Just realised somethin’” He smiles like he has the answer to a question you forgot to ask, continues when you raise your brows at him, “Bob isn’t sharing the bed anymore.”
Oh. 
It’s true, you’d finally found yourself ready to put your gun into an actual gun safe and not within 2 metres of you at all times. Since the great revelation, as you so often thought of it as, you’d taken Sam up on his offer to join him down at the VA for the group sessions, finally unburdening yourself in a more controlled and productive way, taking your own small steps to recovery. It’s not a journey, the voice of Sam scolds, it’s a state of being. One you need to work on every day. 
You make a noise of agreement. “Yeah. Didn’t really need him there anymore.” You admit, press a quick kiss to his lips and say, “Besides, they would need to get through you first. That’s why you sleep closest to the door.” 
He laughs and smiles sheepishly, the admission dies on his tongue when you hush it with yours, the curve of his mouth when it smiles simply too tempting not to taste. 
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“There you go,” Wanda says as she zips your dress. “You’re ready.”
And you were ready. It was a date, a real date in a real restaurant with real people around you. You and Bucky had lived inside a bubble, protected and cosy, all bed covers and armchairs, netflix and books. He decided, or was reminded, that there were other ways to spend his time with you and tonight was to be the first. The first official date. It was exciting, and nerve wracking, and you tried not to hang your fate against the success of one night. 
“Yeah,” you agree, let the hum of unreleased adrenaline settle over your bones in anticipation, “I’m ready.”
You're halfway to the door when you stop, sudden, and hastily turn back to your dresser, rummaging around with abandon until you find it. You gasp in triumph, clutch the glass bottle in hand and show it to Wanda. 
“I haven’t worn it yet,” you explain when she casts you a confused glance. “I guess I was saving it.” 
Hope. The scent you’d purchased all those months ago when Bucky had first arrived, when you’d felt the very first flutterings of it within your chest before you even recognised what it was. It feels apt to wear it tonight when all that hope has become reality. 
“Hmm, well now does seem perfect, right?” She looks at you that way she sometimes does when her face turns into a mirror for your own feelings. It still makes you blink a few times, even now, when the feelings are joyful. 
When you make it to the door this time, you hesitate, hand gripping the cold handle long enough for Wanda to softly clear her throat. She doesn’t ask, but then again she probably already knows. It’s been a while since you��ve worn anything this nice, the dress is really nothing fancy, it’s flattering and comfortable, but still entirely different to your usual workout clothes and lounge wear that Bucky usually sees you in. It still makes your hands clench and your heart flutter with nerves, and you almost laugh at the absurdity of feeling self-conscious. The same man has seen your very soul, after all. 
He’s waiting for you with Steve, his back to you as you approach and so you have a few sweet seconds to admire the sturdiness of his shoulders in the shirt, how the fabric stretches and clings to his broad back and thick arms. Steve smiles when he sees you coming, gives Bucky a nudge and then watches him turn to you with barely contained glee.
When Bucky finally sees you, he looks at you with such fierce want, and love, that you nearly buckle at the sight of it. He smiles the smile that carves roots in your bones and stars in your heart. It’s only when you draw closer that you see your own eyes reflected in his, see yourself looking at him the way he’s looking at you. 
“You look beautiful.” He says, quietly and just for you. 
“Thank you.” You finally tear your eyes from his long enough to do a leisurely sweep of him, taking in that shirt and dress pants combo that somehow looks like it was how he looked all along, made for it. “You do, too.” 
He laughs, like you intended, reaches out to clasp your hand in his without thought and those two actions combined are threatening to let too much of that feeling leak out of your chest, the one that reminds you that you need him too much, love him too much. It’s still terrifying, this kind of love. 
You hate it. You don’t. 
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The restaurant is small, a quiet but cosy kinda place that has more candles than menus and serves things called “Mom’s soup special”. Its soft lighting combines spectacularly with the coved tables, each individual one a private getaway that’s filled with fluttering lashes and toothy smiles. Bucky ushers you forward and tucks your seat behind you as you sit, the gesture all too natural for him and not all like the forced way you’ve witnessed so many people do it before. 
“This place is amazing,” you say, still glancing around with wonder hanging off your eyelashes, “how did you find it?”
“Oh, uh, Sam suggested it, actually.” He admits, tucks his chin a little before adding, “Haven’t actually been out to eat since, you know, melting.”
You blink at him stupidly, eyebrows gathering up into a frown. “But, didn’t you live in Europe? And Wakanda?”
“Yeah. Romania. Well, I was on the run so it was mostly tins of beans and whatever fruit I could find,” he explains, nothing of the painful memories showing on his face, even if they show on yours, “Wakanda was different. I spent a lot of time in the lab, and when I wasn’t, I didn’t exactly socialise. I wasn’t what you would call, fit for the public eye.” 
You reach across the table to take his hand in yours, try not to squeeze it as tight as your chest is squeezing your heart. “I’m glad you're here,” you say, still marvelling at the ease at which he now opens up to you, how these things don’t drag you both down into the dark. “I’m glad I get to share this with you.” 
He smiles, soft and pleased, “There’s no one I’d rather share it with, sweetheart.” 
The pet name, or perhaps the casualness in the way he says it, makes your heart stumble in your chest. Once, a gesture like that would have felt entirely foreign to you, probably even a little pointless, but when it rolls off his tongue with such tenderness you find yourself with sudden understanding that no amount of Hollywood movies could ever show you. 
If he notices your reaction, he doesn’t say anything. The rest of the meal is spent with easy laughter and enthusiastic eating, the staff leave you mostly alone but you catch more than one with a small, knowing smile on their face when they do approach. Caught in the feeling between you, your happiness that bubbles over and spills into every passing person so that their smiles mirror your own. 
You had spent so long denying yourself, and Bucky, these feelings that the now freely given love is pouring, uncontainable, from you both with such force that you can barely stand it. All that effort that went into holding back, denying, did not transfer because in truth, loving Bucky was no effort at all. 
You share a dessert, Bucky coming round the table to join you in what was surely just an excuse to be close, arm draped along the back of your chair, touching from knee to hip. You lean into him, letting his body heat soak into yours and his metal fingers dance along your shoulder. It’s quietly euphoric, and you know he feels it, too.
“I didn’t know it could feel like this.” You admit, turning so you can see his eyes when the words take shape, watching as those seas rumble against your meaning.
“Me neither.” He admits right back, turning to look at you the way he so often does, captures your mouth in a kiss, a lifetime's worth of affection hidden in the curve of his mouth. 
You didn’t believe in soulmates, not really, but as you lay back against his chest and feel his heartbeat on your back, feel the way the beats of his match the beats of yours so precisely, you can’t help but wonder if maybe, just maybe, they might. 
Or perhaps, Fate saw the damage you’d both done to each other and decided to forcibly fuse those souls together. That those matching scars would fit perfectly together and prevent you both from spilling out onto any of her other plans or people.
As someone once said, “May your choices reflect your hopes, not your fears.” 
He presses a kiss to the top of your head, whispers I love you in your ear and you think that you don’t care if it’s soul mates or fated or not. You know that you’d choose him every time. A fate selected by your own hand, or heart, and worth far more than dreams of paths forged for you.
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