#it was created to be displayed in a student gallery. i was going to make 2 submissions but i wasted too much time so we're here now

[calicotisane]

Way

#my art #visionary #character: yaw #colored pencil #it was created to be displayed in a student gallery. i was going to make 2 submissions but i wasted too much time so we're here now #I still get so scared and it takes me so long to PLAN when i do anything traditional that's supposed to be more “neat/polished” #I need to do more stuff and on larger canvases so i am less anxious. It became easier as i progressed so i got normal

[mizunoyouni]

₊˚ෆ Painter's Dialect

₊˚ෆ I can’t stop thinking about going to art school with Hwei and crushing on him…

₊˚ෆ Because it seems from your first year alone that Hwei has already made a name for himself around the art department as one of the top students praised by professors and students alike. Everyone knows him, or of his works, and it’s hard for you to even express your admiration for the painter.

₊˚ෆ At every student art show, he’s always surrounded by professors and fellow peers without a single opening for you to snatch up your opportunity to start a conversation with him. And every time you steal glances over to him in class, he looks like he's always so hyper focused on his work that you’re too scared to interrupt him for some small talk. That, and he almost always has noise canceling headphones on.

₊˚ෆ It’s so silly to be crushing on someone who probably doesn't even know your name… right?

₊˚ෆ Because despite his outward appearance, Hwei definitely knows who you are– your name, your major, what you like to do on the weekends, which city is your hometown, and your favorite Sanrio character. He’s a little embarrassed by it, but he paid very close attention to every time you spoke during the icebreaker games at the beginning of the term.

₊˚ෆ He’s too nervous to just walk up to you, so he tries to make excuses to have a reason to interact with you. Oh he dropped a piece of his charcoal next to you during figure drawing class, he’ll ask you if you can hand it to him! … Or not… because what if you think he’s weird for keeping the conversation going on beyond “Hey I dropped that, could you hand it to me?” “Oh of course, here you go.” “Thanks.” 

₊˚ෆ He’d rather die than have you think he’s a weirdo… and so his abandoned stick of charcoal lays by your foot in silence as he simply pulls out another one from his bag to continue working.

₊˚ෆ After some time, Hwei has come to terms with just admiring you from afar, stealing glances at you as you laugh with your friends, not knowing that while he has convinced himself he has no chance with you, you’re also daydreaming about him. And before you both know it, the term is almost over, and you’re both left wondering if you’ll have the chance to see each other again. 

₊˚ෆ Except... he really didn’t mean to overhear your conversation with your classmates about which elective class you were planning on taking next term, and yet here he is signing up for the same ceramics course as you. He’s never thrown clay onto a wheel before, but now he’s swallowing the lump in his throat as you smile at him, asking if he would like some help, and he’s so happy his heart could burst.

₊˚ෆ Little did he know that you were watching him struggle for a few minutes already, silently asking yourself if you should offer him a hand before working up the courage to convince yourself to walk over to him and shoot your shot.

₊˚ෆ Needless to say, after quickly exchanging contact info with you after class, he very calmly walks back to his dorm room, lays down in his bed and screams into his pillow before sending you a little sticker of a bear peeking out from behind a wall and waving cutely.

₊˚ෆ “... Would you like to grab a snack with me after class is over?” He asks you, fidgeting slightly with his fingers. “Oh I’d love to! Do you have any ideas?” But what you don’t know is that Hwei has already picked out a quaint little coffee shop within walking distance from campus, one he knows will be quiet around this time of day, perfect for a date having a leisurely conversation over freshly brewed coffee and pastries.

₊˚ෆ When it’s time for the next student art show, Hwei may or may not have asked the students working in the gallery storage to display your piece next to his as a surprise for you. He also may or may not have created his latest piece with you in mind, but that’s a conversation he knows he won’t be able to have with you without having his face erupt into flames. 

₊˚ෆ During midterms, you both spend late nights in the painting studio together where your hands are covered in oil paint, and you yawn sleepily as he helps you scrub your hands with soap in the old sink stained with pigment, his hands keeping yours warm under the cold running water.

₊˚ෆ It’s dark out and the moon is hanging in the sky when you both finally leave the studio, but he always walks with you back to your dorm. “To make sure you get back safe,” he says, but he also wants a few extra minutes with you and your adorable sleepy face.

₊˚ෆ You’re not sure when exactly it happened, but somewhere along the line, the two of you had developed a bad habit of forgetting your things in each other’s dorm rooms. Or at least, that’s what you both tell yourselves. 

₊˚ෆ Once he had left his headphones at your place and you returned them to him decorated with cute little stickers of cats– stickers that he never peeled off. And in return, Hwei has a small collection of your things in his drawer, neatly organized for when you promised to drop by after you were finished with your classes, but it seems you left his room without them, again. 

₊˚ෆ “I don’t wanna learn about art history, I just wanna draw!” you whine as you lay your head down on the library table, earning a soft laugh from Hwei. You were both studying for an upcoming test, but your notes consisted of little caricature portraits of historical painters scrawled in the margins and funny names for famous pieces written instead of their official titles, making him smile at your antics.

₊˚ෆ When final projects start creeping up on the two of you, you find yourselves staying up into the dead of night as art consumes your minds. There’s no time for proper meals, so it’s just mountains of granola bars, instant noodles and a concerning amount of energy drinks and coffee that get you both through those last few weeks.

₊˚ෆ You fall asleep in Hwei’s dorm room the night before you need to present your final portfolio, your messy stack of drawings now neatly placed in your bag as you sleep soundly in his bed. But don’t worry, his alarm is set for your morning critique to ensure you don’t oversleep, and he has a bottle of cold brew prepared for you in the fridge to make sure you don’t walk into class too zombie-like.

₊˚ෆ The next day, after Hwei is done with his last group critique session, instead of going back to his dorm room, he stops by yours. “Yours is closer,” he yawns as he drops his heavy portfolio case on the floor and climbs in next to you in your bed, snuggling into your arms before sleep quickly claims him.

₊˚ෆ Maybe after you’ve both rested, you’ll plan on celebrating finishing a year of art school together, but for now, you’ll just enjoy the warmth of laying next to Hwei for a much needed afternoon cat nap.

୨୧⋆｡˚ ⋆ Author's note - This was so self indulgent... and a few parts may or may not have been based on my own art school experiences, hehe (⁠~⁠‾⁠▿⁠‾⁠)⁠~

#modern au #hwei x reader #hwei #gn reader #league of legends x reader #‧₊˚✩彡 miya writes

[tavern-aa]

Can I request the Timers soulmate AU for male with Kaoru Hitachiin?

AN: OMG I LOVE THIS REQUEST!! I am a huge sucker for a soulmate AU I hope this lives up to your expectations Anon! I'm too excited for this let's stop talking and LET'S GET IT!!!!!!! -Teddy

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There are certain facts on this Earth that are universal. The sun rises each morning and sets each night. Birds sing their usual sweet songs in the morning. And all of humanity has a timer on their wrist. This timer counted down each second until you were destined to meet your soulmate.

Kaoru has always had a complicated relationship with his own timer. On one hand, Hikaru has always been his soulmate, maybe not in a romantic sense but the bond was still so powerful that Kaoru worried how a romantic soulmate would interfere.

But luckily this is less of a concern for Kaoru after joining the Host Club. He wasn't expecting much at first, but now the younger twin wouldn't change the experience for anything. Both Hitachiin brothers have grown and have a sense of independence in their identities while still preserving their close bond. Three years of growth have manifested to this moment as the Kaoru walks into his first fashion design course at university. He felt secure in his place exploring an industry he really liked while not forcing Hikaru into something he didn't want for the sake of their closeness.

The two decided to go to the same university but have different majors. Kaoru in fashion design and Hikaru in graphic design. Kaoru couldn't help but smile fondly at the memory of Hikaru confessing to him in the quiet of their room one night that he wanted to create games instead of falling into the family business.

Kaoru sat in an empty seat and calmly waited for his professor to walk in. The class had only started earlier that month, but Kaoru was excited about its direction. Today they will display the preliminary designs for their major project for the semester. But instead of to the other classmates, the students would be trying to sell it to students in the modeling department. The student designs would be displayed gallery-style around the room and the models will observe and make notes of the ones that interest them. Then they will speak with the designers and see if they are the right fit for their designs. It is an entirely joint project and today the models were supposed to come in and talk to the designers and essentially form the connection that would keep for the rest of the semester. Kaoru wasn't particularly nervous more anxious really. But that had nothing to do with the project.

The redhead rubbed his wrist nervously as he had been doing all day since he noticed his timer was at less than 24 hours this morning. There was no doubt about the situation, he would be meeting his soulmate today. Kaoru usually prided himself on being the calmer twin but he just could not sit still with his timer looming over his head. As the rest of his classmates and professor filed in Kaoru felt his mind wandering. He knew it wasn't any of his classmates, they had all had class together for a few weeks now, which also ruled out his professor. Kaoru glanced at his timer under his sleeve, less than 15 minutes left. That only left the models whom Kaoru could see lingering outside the door.

Who in their right mind could think of designs at a time like this, but as the doors opened and the modeling students started wandering around the room to observe the different works displayed on the wall, Kaoru tried to put his mind back on his work. What's the point of meeting your soulmate if you can't make a good impression. So Kaoru ran his hands over his clothes and left his seat and went to stand by his designs on the wall.

Oh, his wrist started to burn as he saw a figure standing in front of his designs on the wall closest to the back window of class. Kaoru took in the man's figure and his eyes lingered on their hip which was cocked to the side. This was it wasn't it? This is the moment. Oh god, Kaoru felt his pulse thumping loudly in his ear as he started moving on autopilot to the space on the man's, his soulmate's, left.

Brrring

Brrring

Brrring

The two's eyes met as the air was filled with the ringing of their respective timers. Hazel eyes met another pair longingly as the world faded out of existence.

"Hi" Kaoru let out quietly.

"Hi yourself soulmate" the stranger let out and turned their head slightly to the sheets of paper taped to the wall.

"Are these yours?" Kouru nodded his head, he was super confident in his voice with how out of breath he felt.

The stunning man hummed lightly and turned back to Kaoru with a frankly illegal smile on his face, "I am looking forward to working with you!"

#ouran high school host club #teddy #kaoru hitachiin #kaoru #kaoru x reader #ouran kaoru #ouran x reader #kaoru hitachiin x reader #kaoru hitachiin x male reader #x male reader

[calliedion-dungeon]

𖤓Sore Kisses

Picture Kath on Pinterest

Chapter 4. Gimme Sympathy

Read on ao3 here <<<

Warnings: MDNI +18, Smoking, Heavy Drinking, Fluff and Angst (later) Swearing, Crossdressing (later), Adult Content, Eventual Smut, Blonde Mary Goore!! Everyone is a Little Shit in here, later it gets all Soft and Smutty, Enemies to Friends to Lovers Trope.

A few weeks later, you were able to exhibit your work that you have been developing throughout the year at the art school, you don't like to invite anyone to the last exhibition that happens every end of course, but Frank, as he is, upon finding out that it would be the last exhibition, he organized everyone to go see your work, there was nowhere to hide when you saw startled the group approach you as you were talking with one of your favorite teachers about a scholarship that they were offering you.

The arts school where you study has several small rooms that make up the gallery, the building is quite old, since at some point it was the first school in the history of the city, becoming its heritage, the wooden boards that they cover the floor they creaked all over the place, people had already gotten used to the sound of each creaky step, the walls of the whole school were white, that didn't make it boring because there was always something on display created by the students, these walls were adapted so that nobody had the need to paint or scratch them.

The teacher noticed you were somewhat distracted when you saw the small group enter the gallery, you mentioned that your friend brought company, they really didn't stand out that much in the art school, there were people who were the same or more alternative, but for you, it was as if they were walking with a beam of light on top, you didn't know why, you were looking for him with your eyes, with relief you found him, although a few seconds later, you consciously realized that and changed your mind.

It was unusual for your eyes to see Frank’s friends in a place at broad daylight, so illuminated, they always seemed to be nocturnal creatures in hidden bars and alleys, you could even see details on everyone's faces that you couldn't in a dark and smoky place, as it usually happened. You couldn't deny them entry, besides, if they were there it was because they wanted to, right? It was bizarre to say the least, not in a million years you would’ve asked them to come, you see Nick looking around, and of course with Cami, but Mary? Didn’t he had nothing better to do?

When they greet you they already know that it must be from afar, no one tries to kiss you on the cheek or shake your hand anymore, you appreciate that, you see carefully that they do not approach your drawings and photographs, but Frank guides his people to see them when he finds your hanging works on the walls.

They pour out praise that you don't know whether to believe or not, but you say thank you anyway, because you have no way to deny their compliments, when Mary stands next to you, you cross your arms looking away, he looks at your photographs and not in a hurry, he observes intently and that makes you nervous, because one of the photographs is a self-portrait, all this was much easier without people who knew you around.

“They are all naked, the quiet ones always have their kinky side, uh?” he teases near for you to hear, how dare he insinuate that this is something made for vulgar delight, you turn to look at him, squinting.

“It’s called study of human form, idiot” he makes that stupid smug face, because again, you fell for it.

“Are they models?” his tone doesn’t change, as if he ignored your words, walking slowly closer to you, following the path that you’re blocking ‘cause you’re covering your photo from him.

“Yeah, people volunteer to be drawn or photographed, this is my roommate, Jenn, they’re very muscular” you point to a picture of your roommate doing a push-up, to make all their muscles show you did a trick with light and shadows.

“Cool, so I can model, then?” just as he gives you a toothy grin, quickly you turn your face away knotting your brows.

“I hardly think anyone will find something worth picturing…” you couldn't finish insulting him because you feel something gently push your shoulder to get you out of front of the photo.

“You don’t know what I got… This… oh damn! Nice! Who is this?” he exclaims openly and whistles “How do we know her?” you curse inside, only letting out your grunting and frowning, your self-portrait photo is also a nude, it is your image overlaid in various poses placed inside a tub, a wet cloth covers your face and the pink water only covers your mons pubis, everything else was perfectly visible, you wouldn't mind if you hadn't noticed beforehand that he wasn't looking at your work as art.

“Read the tag, genius” As soon as he reads the tag, his face turns red, you expected that by reading he would understand that it was you and he would walk away in terror, but no, now he was looking more carefully, somehow his eyes look darker “No! Frank! tell him stop watching!”

Because of your whining, Frank appears thinking that Mary is bothering you again, when he realizes what is happening, he covers his face in the direction of your photo, incredibly uncomfortable as the shameless metalhead keeps staring at your figure, before anyone could say anything else, your phone rings.

Mary didn't even hear that your phone had rung and that's why you had left, he thought you were upset because he was looking insistently at your photograph, the white corridors of the unknown school had him confused where to go to look for you, but it didn't last too long for him to hear your yelling in a room at the end of the hall, you were alone next to a piano with the phone in hand talking angrily. Determined to make sure that you’re not angry at him, he waits outside for a bit, peering through the windows of the door.

“…The fucking landlord is throwing us out?... What did you do!?” your growing vexation sweated from all your pores, impotence overflows your voice, you don't want to cry because you know that Jenn will too as soon as you hang up the phone “Un-fucking-believable, dude! What am I supposed to do?” you hang up the phone wanting to throw it even if it gets destroyed, but it's all you have at the moment, you can't even think straight.

You let yourself fall on the bench defeated, squeezing your lips with tears in your eyes, anger invades you more than you can control, especially being alone you let it out in the form of bitter tears which you don't even bother to wipe away, you stay a moment like that in your seat.

Mary walks into the room stealthy as a cat, you jolt once you realize that he is standing next to you, he finds you crying and immediately becomes defensive, looking furiously for who knows what. You try to hide your face, you wipe your eyes with the collar of your shirt, not caring if it gets smeared with your eyeliner.

“What happened? Are you hurt?” he’s visibly upset by your grimace.

“No... it's not… My roommate…” you fail to explain, sighing and swallowing hard trying to undo the knot in your throat.

“Did they do something to you?”

“No…” as soon as you respond his body relaxes, he sits next to you rubbing his hands together not knowing what to say, he attempts to put a hand on your shoulder but pulls back from doing so, your muffled sobs made him feel anxious, it was the sudden need to ease your pain.

With a broken voice you told him roughly what had happened, Mary wasn't the first person you would have thought of telling, but he was already there. What had happened was that Jenn was doing pull-ups on a pipe of the apartment where you live, or the two of you lived, it turned out that this pipe was a water pipe and thanks to their weight it ended up breaking, causing the entire apartment to flood and consequently you can't live there anymore, the landlord knows you weren't even there when that happened so you're off the hook regarding paying for damages. Still, it meant you had nowhere to live at the moment, you were terrified that it would happen again and you didn't know what to do.

Except for a few random comments, Mary listened to you attentively, it even seemed that for once he was taking your situation seriously, but that thought escaped you when he told you that he had to do something and he just left the piano room, leaving you alone, you sigh feeling horrible for a while, taking more time than planned, before going out to face the rest of what is left of the exhibition.

Leaving the piano room Frank approaches looking for you, the news did not take long to travel, he was already aware of what happened, he wastes no time in consoling you and making you an offer that would not have occurred to you even at your worst moment, your thoughts were still slipping in his words, you couldn't find an immediate answer.

“We have a spare room, why don’t you come live with us?”

#Sore Kisses #mary goore fanfic #mary goore x reader #mary goore #mary goore fic #repugnant #repugnant band fanfiction #mary goore repugnant #repugnant fanfiction

[whoisthatcreepoverthere]

So I graduated this past May after five years of study! I think I’m finally ready to share this with the world.

At my university, the capstone project for art majors (both Graphic Design and Studio Art, or in my case, both) is to create a cohesive body of artwork, pass a jury held by the top three professors of the art department, and hold an exhibition with fellow graduating students in the University’s own galleries. We got to choose our own mediums (the only restraint was your medium of choice has to fall under your degree’s umbrella), our own themes. I chose to re-tell my college experience through the lens of a fantasy RPG.

I made the backgrounds on Inkarnate, a DnD map making website, hand drew my characters (me and my then-therapist), and then digitalized them in Photoshop with the help of a tablet.

Completing this project was a nightmare. I had aspirations far beyond what’s here that I had to cut due to my lack of time management skills. I’ve always struggled with my mental health, so tackling such a large project that meant the world to me, the pressure of going public with it, and dealing with the deteriorating health and eventual death of my Mom, made every day a struggle. I only got it done and on display in time to graduate because my professors were being extremely lenient with me due to my loss. And at first, I couldn’t bring myself to love what I made. And even now, my feeling towards this is rocky because I know what I wanted it to be. I see every mistake. I remember how much I hated every second I spent on it during the last month I was in school. I didn’t think it was good enough to be seen by everyone. And I was angry my Mom would never see it. But it’s a finished product. And I’m trying to learn how to not hate everything I make and not deem everything I do unworthy. In the safety of my tiny ass blog, I want to share this little piece of myself.

#my art #do not repost #inkarnate #digital art #artists on tumblr

[rbreckenridgepromotion]

Evaluation 1 – Personal Promotion Strategy

For it’s functions of creating posts, stories, and reels about works in process, and also for following other accounts and receiving followers, Instagram has proved to be a valuable platform for promotion. Not only have I gained followers through word of mouth and use of hashtags per upload, but I have also managed to engage in cross-promotion which has just been twice as effective for gaining new followers and views. This is done on by re-sharing an artist’s work and tagging the artist name and also the gallery/exhibition space, they most likely acknowledge you by resharing your post in their story and/or return a follow.

It is absolutely with following exhibition spaces and art shops that promote and champion new and emerging artists as you can tag them, and they will most likely follow you back and connections can be built for when you consider applying for a slot to exhibit work. Cass art have recently advertised the Prize 2024 competition to submit a work to be judged whether you win cash prize and/or get a place in a London exhibit. I will be making an entry to this in early May. Another option is looking into how the Glasgow store assists with exhibitions in their back space. Additionally, throughout my practicing life, I will continue to visit and support other artists by visiting exhibits, you do get back what you put into the world as they say.

I have also been seeking residencies and grants as that can could go hand in hand with cross-promotion and developing artistic practice. My experience is usage of college print studio and it’s Instagram mentioning my name and current work in progress. Other opportunities would be looking into grants as some may have their own set criteria which could benefit as an extra challenge.

With every other activity undertaken to enhance learning, practice and recognition, cross-promoting is the key within networking and opens up positive communication. Students should always visit exhibition open nights, not only be the first to view the works, but to meet the artist and begin networking and cross-promoting.

However, one thing I have noticed with exhibits, particularly open nights is that there can be a lack of social engagement. On a recent opening night, I felt deflated due to the lack of social interaction. I would have thought the artist would say a few words of welcome, talk a little of what is on display and be open to questions. It would provide a better viewing experience to make activities for audiences to interact than just coming to view work. Kids would benefit from this too.                                                                                            

This was proved by a successful test carried out at our discussion table part of our groups exhibit – we each submitted 5 words that associated with works and allowed our visitors to take a word from the pile and attempt to match that word to the work. I  will be thinking about for degree show is having something where viewers can be involved.

[seanmullenselfpromotionproject]

I planned what my exhibition would look like by researching shows from different galleries online. I made sketches of what my show would be like on photoshop. I think that doing this helped me visualize more accurately how it would look.

I planned what I would present for the exhibition from halfway through the project. I got the idea of what to do from the presentation of the divergent practice project. For the divergent practice I combined drawings with 3d objects. I decided to present the art in the same fashion. For the divergent practice I presented the objects laid out on a board. For the final exhibition I was not sure how I would present the objects whether on the floor or a plinth or on a table. I realized that the objects were too small to be shown on the floor and I wanted to make the plinth more unique and personal to the art, so I decided to present it on a table. I decided to do this during the end of the process but there was enough time and I made it before the deadline.

I tried to create an online presence for my work. I choose to use Instagram to show my art as it is easier to get more exposure for my art on it rather than creating a website. I also decided to create little cards with my Instagram on it to get more exposure. It would have been better for me to have posted my artwork sooner in the term to get more exposure and build up to the show.

At one point when we were going to have the exhibition outside of the college. I wasn’t sure what the space would be like. I wasn’t sure how I would transfer my artwork to the space as some of the art was heavy and other parts were fragile. The show was then held in the college which I thought was good for the transportation of my art. I would have liked the show to be held outside college but making it inside the college made it easier.

During the end of the project the class got together for a Meeting. We went through promotion. We discussed how we should present the exhibition. We decided to have each artist bio in the space and on flyers with the floor plan on the front of the flyer. We put up time for invigilation. We also assigned roles for people to proofread artist statements. We thought where we could put flyers. we thought about putting them up in the college and asking if we could display them in art stores in town. We created open lines of communication through email etc. so that we could discuss or get in touch if there was anything needed urgently. I think that the meeting really helped in that it gave everyone an idea of what we all were going to do.

We also had a meeting with the design students as our exhibition was being held together. I think that the meetings were good as it was good to go over the plans and to discuss everything. The meetings gave me a clear idea of what to do.

We got a floor plan for the space and went down to view where the space was. We look at the measurements and dimensions of each individual space. Going to see the space was helpful as it gave hands-on experience and helped with planning of the project.

I think that I managed the time well as I had enough work to fill the exhibition space and my space.

[peytonerickson]

Grad Show Reflection

Wow. Crazy to think we’re done grad show. Being on the Graphic Design team was a crazy, busy experience. I fell quite a bit behind my process blog with this class, but here’s all the process we did for all our responsibilities. 

So the logo was the first thing on the to do list. We discussed, after seeing everyone's mood boards, about having all the students make a letter for the logo. The class loved the idea and we got right on it. We had all the students pick a letter out of a mug and design it in any way they liked. 

After we got all the letters back, we realized that some people created them in different mediums (Jaiden drew hers, Alyssa made a sticker, and Katie was much more digital). So, after seeing these few letters, we felt inspired to make all the letters into different mediums showcasing the “variety” of our program and the different classes we take. Some issues we came across when making the logo were the random bright white spots (the outline of the sticker and the K’s ripped paper background) and felt that they stood out too much against the other letters. Another issue we encountered was the flow of the letters and how they should work together. Luckily (not sure how it happened) but the letter R and I perfectly had that movement that we needed, so once we saw that I feel like the rest just came to us. Took a while to take all the letters and make a nice, cohesive logo out of them but I’m really happy with how the final logo turned out.

Next up was posters. So with the posters, we also had to figure out what colours we wanted to use, the context on the posters, and of course the layout. This took much longer than it should’ve in my opinion. There was a lot of back and forth when it came to ideas, and when I thought we were close to finished more new ideas came to. Unfortunately, I had to leave for a week but when I was gone it seemed my team did good and we settled on colours (thanks to Jorden) and with that finished the style guide (thanks to Chelsea). Once we figured out the colours and sent them to other teams, social media and web got to work on their content using our colours (yellow, red, black) and fonts (agenda). 

I think we figured out pretty early in the game that the poster would just consist of the letters all the classmates made, slowly spelling out “Variety Pack”. It was tougher than I thought with how the letters should align and move with each other on the poster. After sharing a few concepts and poster layout ideas, the class gave great feedback and we kept moving!

Final poster to the right! I thought it was so cool seeing how our posters kept changing (but for the good)! I was really happy with how our final poster turned out. The letters were placed randomly, but there was still the sense of the grid with aligning the additional context with certain letters and spacing. It was also kinda weird seeing how our colours kept changing. For some reason the codes kept getting funny on us and the printers kept changing the colour, but it all worked out! 

Invitations! After a bit of research and just discussing ideas we came up with one right away. These we kept pretty simple, but I’m really happy with how they turned out. Chelsea thought of using the R and E for reception and exhibition which I love! The front side was our logo printed out on a sticker placed on top of the rip to give that idea of the sticker holding the paper together. We also decided to write “You’re Invited” with marker and once we did that, we kinda kept that theme going in a few others things from then on. The digital version was the same, but we just included the Variety Pack sticker look on the same side as the info. 

More posters! These posters we hung up in the three window displays by the gallery. When we were doing a walk around a couple weeks before the show, Jorden, Chelsea and myself felt that we needed to use these windows somehow. We thought it would be nice that when you first walk into the cultural center and see posters that explain and showcase our show would be nice.

We definitely new about the map poster and our show poster, but we didn’t know what to do for our third poster. We thought back to our handwritten feature we have around the show and decided to do something with that. Initially it was going to be “Thank You for coming to our show”, but we ultimately decided on “Welcome to Our Grad Show”. The map Jorden and I worked on together, and the Welcome poster I wrote but Chelsea designed. I was very happy with how these posters turned out :)

Next up, guides. These were by far the biggest headache makers. We were cutting it close on time so the three of us got these done up and finished in just a couple days. Our initial design had type go across the spread with all the graduates a little over the center. Unfortunately, however, when it came to printing there were a few issues. None of the pages aligned and the headshots for some reason came out looking really “greasy” and not good honestly. We were not happy with this, and given how close it was already to the show we decided to redesign it without spreads and just do the information on pages. 

The new and revised version printed out much nicer. Also, on top of things we decided to hand stich the books together. I personally struggled a bit with this but really enjoyed learning the process of it! I also loved the aesthetic it gave to our guides. It connected it more to us rather than just having some store do everything for us. 

Just a few days before the show as well, we hung up our exhibition statement and a giant “sticker” in the main entrance of our show. So the first thing people see when they walk in is our logo and can read about our show. (also shoutout to Chelsea for writing a killer statement). 

Aside from all this, we also made stickers for all the letters, trading cards for all the students and social media posts. I don’t have any photos on me right now like I thought I did so I will post some tomorrow morning! 

I should’ve been on my process more, but things just got away from me - which is no excuse, sorry. Overall, I am super proud of my Graphic Design team. We did A LOT. I never felt so much stress before but it was well worth it. Our show turned out so good and so us as a class. There's a few things I would do differently now knowing everything, but wouldn’t change anything about the show.

[sophietribe]

Making Music Your Business: Planning

Once finalising on the type of event, we started to prepare the planning process. This was so me and my group were organised on what jobs we individually had, what we needed to do to make this event happen and how we could support each other. 

Firstly, we started by getting together in person to discuss what needed to be included within this project. We then made a WhatsApp group chat for easier communication. Aiysha had the important role of discussing and planning on getting the 13 pieces of artwork from her two friends in London, Selven and Roots, as well as getting them to sign the artwork loan contracts that I made. As soon as we knew this project could possibly go ahead, we all had the job of getting a place for our event to be held at. Such as contacting the chapel, art gallery and the university itself. After speaking with a few individuals, Tim Adams kindly let us have the graphic design space on Park Campus for a day on the 5Th of December. We felt this was a great space due to the build and space of the room as it looks like a great place for art to be displayed. 

I made posters for the event. I made sure that I promoted all around the university including my social medias. Me and Daisy also had a conversation with a friend within the University radio, asking whether it’s possible to get a shout out for the event, which sadly wasn’t possible. 

We all had the job of making the music to each piece of art. Whether this was individual or in collaboration with each other. Once the music was completed, me and Daisy uploaded to YouTube and made a playlist for the song called ‘Music for Artwork’. Underneath in the description stating who the artist was and who created the music. This accompanying with the QR codes I had made for the event, so it’s easy for people to access. 

Photo of our original playlst on Youtube:

I designed and made the signs/posters with the help of Daisy. I felt this seemed professional and appropriate in this setting due to an event such as this. In case of Health and Safety, caution on protecting the artwork and telling the students/teachers what the event is. 

Lastly, a few days before the event arriving, we created a donations corner as we felt it seemed fair for the artists and musicians to get a fair percentage each of the funds after the event. We also wanted to make the event as professional as possible, so we got Shaun to do the photography on the day. Donations also went to him. 

As shown below, the GANT chart (showing information around the time where everything happened) and SWOT chart (showing the positives such as,  strengths and opportunities and the negatives to the event such as the weaknesses and threats). 

#MD5326

[kulife2022]

Art on Campus

Prologue:

When walking around campus, we see many students lugging around their instruments and art bags. Creativity can be seen all over campus, in sculptures and on the sidewalks that students cover in chalk. The Visual and Performing Arts program at Kutztown creates a majority of the student body. With two buildings dedicated to art, there are many different experiences and events that surround being an art student. Although it’s just a major, being in art intertwines into your life. Whether it be working on projects in your dorm, partaking in the gallery shows that rotate throughout Sharadin, or even being a part of a Living Learning Community, you are an art student. 

In Act 1, Life of an Art Student, we will be diving into the life of KU art students on campus. Talking to different art students on campus, we understand the benefits and opportunities available to KU art students. We also understand some of the challenges with being an art student. In the second act, learn about the Miller Gallery, its many shows, and how it interacts with art students. In the final act, read up on how art students, and majors can come together as a community. 

Act I:  Life of an Art Student

Being an art student at KU is a community all on its own. You have people from all different backgrounds but have a common goal of bringing art to the world. As an art student myself, I find that I have found a place that I can express my love for art and show my skills. I walk around campus and witness art all around me. I see all of the opportunities and experiences that surround being an art student at KU. However, I wanted to go deeper and get another perspective on being an art student on campus.

I met up with a fellow art student named Kay in her residential building. She agreed to answer a couple of questions about the different aspects of art life on campus in the form of an email. Kay majors in communication design and talked about her thoughts about being an art student at Kutztown University. I discussed with her about the many different aspects of life as an art student at Kutztown University and Kay explained that being an art student at KU is “exploring the possibilities of creating art.” She went on to say that it is  “learning how to make art out of anything around you.” Walking around and seeing the chalk drawings on the sidewalk throughout campus and the creative artworks in Sharadin, I agree that art can be anything.

Being an art student at KU, I have many different opportunities before me where I can interact with fellow art students and create relationships. When I asked Kay for her thoughts about opportunities at KU she said that opportunities “lie everywhere in KU for art students.”  They can be embedded within art clubs that “enhance their skills and knowledge”, the art buildings like Sharadin, or the art living community living in Lehigh Hall.

There are also some downfalls to being an art student in general, not just at KU. I personally have had some financial difficulty with being an art student due to “the materials being our job.”  It is possible to have “a lot of expenses especially if you’re taking a multitude of them at once.” 

There can also be a lot of stress that comes with being an art student there “often several projects dealing with and without art that require your attention.” Having to juggle your general studies and projects for art classes can be stressful to some.

Being an art student at KU is being part of a greater purpose of bringing art to the world. You have many opportunities and advantages of being a part of the art community. Talking to Kay helped to get a different opinion on what it was truly like to be an art student at KU, good and bad.

-Brianna Libis

       Act II: Miller Gallery

Marlin and Regina Miller Gallery located in the Sharadin Arts building holds great opportunities for art students. The gallery recruits faculty members, alumni, and artists from all over the world to come display their art. 

The current exhibit features Eric Anthony Berdis. His work is strange yet inspiring and I had the wonderful experience of contributing something to this exhibit. During my drawing class my professor led our group down to the gallery. Mr. Berdis sat us all down at a long table to play a drawing game that involved passing around papers, writing sentences, and doodling. After the activity he asked us to pick our favorite doodle and redraw it on a sticky note to hang on the wall. This activity was fun and it was really cool to be a part of Mr. Berdis’ exhibit. When everyone was finished hanging up their doodles Mr. Berdis pulled back the curtains hiding the rest of his exhibit and invited us in to take a peek at his work. He explained the meaning behind his work and told stories about his experience working in the public school system as an art teacher. Hearing the artist speak about his work with such emotion was inspiring. When speaking with my friend Ellie, who is part of this drawing class as well, she completely agreed that Eric Anthony Berdis’ art was truly inspiring. She mentioned that the layering of fabric was extremely intricate and she had never seen anything like it, “Seeing his display made me want to create something similar.” It is great that this gallery inspires students to experiment with mediums they are not used to. Being involved in his installation made me feel included in the art community and this is important when going to a new school. 

Not only does having this gallery on campus inspire art students it allows them to gain some behind the scenes knowledge. Part of the gallery’s mission is to get students involved with mentoring opportunities. The artists that are brought in are expected to interact with students and involve the students as much as they can. This is a great opportunity for students to learn and ask questions about how installations are organized or planned. Ellie mentioned, in her interview, that she is grateful to have access to this gallery right on campus, “It's inspiring and just amazing to have an art gallery so close and accessible to us. We are able to learn the logistics of an art gallery and enjoy the art as viewers.” More students can take an interest in these projects because the information is so convenient to access.

Marlin and Regina Miller Gallery is a critical part of the art community at Kutztown University. The installations held by the gallery inspire the art students to think outside of the box, expose students to different types of mediums, and open their eyes to the possibilities of the future. All art students should take advantage of the opportunities this gallery holds, right on our campus. 

Zoe Eichinger

Act III: KUVA Living Learning Community        

It is important to build a community as art majors, art begins to flourish around other creatives. A good way to create that tight-knit group is with a Living Learning Community program open to first year students at Kutztown. The LLC meets once a week, and gives way to learning about the art building, the KU area, faculty guidance, events at KU, and everything that the school and Sharadin have to offer for art students. Not only does this open opportunities to learn about the campus and main street, but as well as friends/people you know in your major. Every member of the LLC, lives in the same dorm hall, in this case Lehigh Hall. Projects, whether they be 2D or 3D, can be big and messy, being a part of the Kutztown University Visual Arts. LLC also gives access to a studio space with desks and supplies, for all members on the third floor of Lehigh.

In an interview with Janna Gregonis, the professor in charge of the LLC, she mentioned “The LLC is not only a good way to bring the kids together, but also allows for them to assimilate better during their first semester at Kutztown. I am able to give students my knowledge surrounding different attributes available to art majors at Kutztown. It gives them an edge over their peers.” Each meeting is not mandatory, but is something my friends and I would look forward to each week. We learned about things on campus that you wouldn’t have found naturally. 

While the KUVA LLC is not a crucial part of being an art major, it is still an important part for many students. It allows for a way to get closer to those in the same major and classes, and creates a strong close community together.        

Lainie Walter

[gracemulhollandstudio]

Kate Newby

Our exhibition group reached out to Kate Newby to ask some questions regarding her art. Here are the answers to those questions. This was very helpful and insightful for all of us.

Here goes:

In a lecture given to Massey students you mentioned wanting to 'explore contemporary art boundaries'. To you, what is it that you consider boundaries?

I think galleries are a boundary, as well as the limitation of who gets to show in them, and with what kind of work. I think the literal art space (gallery, museum) is limiting as it's often a white walled space, and I am always looking for more than that with my work.  

You also mentioned that you like to work in bursts, I am the same way but I find this sometimes negatively impacts me when due dates etc are involved. Do you find there are pros and cons to this method of working and what are they?

I 100% work in bursts, but these are often in sync with a project deadline. Sometimes they are not, and I have a project deadline and it's very hard to get motivated to complete the work. In that instance, different things happen with the work because I am having to work on a schedule and might not be "feeling it." I think there are definitely pros and cons. The cons are that your productive moments might not be matched up with your deadlines, the pros are that I can happily give 110% to something and I know a break is coming soon.  

You work a lot with the mundane, whether that be marks, objects, etc. How do you find that your relationship with these mundane objects changes once they have been displayed in a gallery or considered as a piece of art?

It doesn't really change - I keep being fascinated- I literally find these moments really exciting. I'm drawn to them and it's been a long time and I keep digging in deeper and trusting the slightness of it all.

Often your work lends itself to tactility. The audience has to walk on it or are inclined to touch the objects. Do you find it difficult to encourage the audience that it is okay to touch your work? Is it possible to lead the audience there without explicitly saying 'you can touch my work, it's fine!'?

Great question. I never say "please touch my work." I try to build this into the installation and make it apparent that way. So, at the Adam, you walked down the stairs to the bottom level and you had the choice to step onto the work or walk back up the stairs. Because of the scale of the work, and because of the way that it was there immediately, I think most people chose to walk on it. I am also fine if people turn around and go back up the stairs. It's all a choice! I think tactility is an important part of getting to know something and it's strange to me that we can't touch art more. I probably said that in my talk!

You have said that you aim to dismantle the power of art institutions, do you believe this is possible or do you think that there will always be a clear hierarchy within the art world?

There will always be a hierarchy,  and not just in the art world. There is so much discrimination on so many levels all throughout society. It's important to register. I think Institutional Critique is really interesting... it's not what I do, but it has been an influence. Andrea Fraser is a fantastic artist. I think as artists we should work with ideas and processes that we fundamentally believe in. This is a powerful aspect of art. I don't think the system will change overnight or from a single show, but I do think that chipping away is important.

When exhibiting in a gallery, is it the work that influences the way you disrupt the gallery space, or the gallery that influences the work you create within it?

It's both. I think about the space and what's happening with it. What's gone on before me, and what is the potential of the space that seems engaging and exciting. I try to think very big when I enter a gallery space - I don't want limitations to get in the way. As a female, I think I have been taught to be very self-limiting and it's a really ghastly trait.  I see it come through in my daily life, and I see it come through when I am planning my projects. I try to catch myself and stay vigilant about this and catch myself as best I can. Every show I make is informed by the space, but also the work I am in the middle of exploring. The two go hand in hand.

Leading from this, when deciding where to exhibit do you look for certain things within the space and the architecture? Are there gallery spaces that just aren't right for your work?

Yes there are always tricky spaces - the Adam was one of them! I don't want to be an artist that isn't versatile though....  I think this would make a tricky job even harder. I like rolling with the punches and I like to be flexible. I also really appreciate optimism so I don't really like the idea of a space been bad or unusable (although it's come close at times). I don't look for too many things in particular when I am first looking at a space - I try to trust my instincts and see what comes up.

Do you think that if you had grown up in a different environment your art would have manifested in a different direction?

Yes. Completely. I'm really humbled by the fact that my parents encouraged me, and never once discouraged me, to pursue art. I got to grow up at a beach in the bush - this absolutely had an impact. What if I had grown up here in Floresville, TX, where I am now?  In the USA vs Aotearoa? I'd be completely different and so would my work.

What advice would you give to a group of young women about to graduate art school?

Make friends! Don't bother being competitive - it's not fruitful. Talk to other artists (like you are doing) and ask them for their opinion. Learn how to financially support yourself outside of your art so that you can make the work you want, without worrying about selling it (I worked in restaurants and bars). Remember that as a young woman artist, you will have to work 3 x as hard because society as a default wants to support men. I found (and still find) that when I am making the work I care most about, this often has a larger impact than if I was making work to impress people. Also, stay in touch with people and friends and your teachers. Build a support system as this will feed you when you least expect it.

And a fun one, if you could exhibit or do a residency at any space or gallery in the world, where would it be?

I have no idea! I like extreme places. Maybe somewhere nuts and remote?  

Thanks for the great questions. I hope this helps. I love making art and it's not easy and it is far more about organisation than I ever realised. But it's the most amazing way to spend time and travel and be in the world. I wish you the best of luck with your studies and in your coming years. Feel free to reach out any time you want!

Kate

#studioivb

[from-our-boxes]

Freshman at a Graduate Critique

by Anissa Wheeler-White

Fall semester of 2021, I decided to go to the graduate critiques. I was a guest in the space of people who are working artists who have had art in galleries and other creative realms. Since this is in an academic setting with a time constraint, artists may have work-in-progress or unfinished ideas. Thus, I would describe it as a critique of works still in motion even when finished pieces are present in the space. Talking with graduate students, they shared that they take other classes such as art history and seminar requirements. Their academic path is structured around advising while the final critique acts as a check-in.

The critiques take place in a shared space which happens to be in the same area as the graduate student studios. There is no typical large room, four white walls, perfect installation type of setting. The critique is in an open room but not a stereotypical gallery space. You can hear people working, talking in studios, and coming in and out of the room. I believe this setting makes the critique appear less intimidating and not as weighty as it can come off as. However, I do not think that it does the work justice even if it is in an academic setting used for a check-in with the artist. The amount of care and effort put into these pieces, I believe, deserves a better environment and space to equate to the artistry displayed. In the book, Thinking About Exhibitions, Rosalind E.Krauss’ chapter “Postmodernism’s Museum Without Walls” discusses Mies van der Rohe’s idea of ‘universal space.’ This 'universal space' is described as a “massive, neutral enclosure, the space is a function of its structure.” (242) Maybe I, like many, have become accustomed to this “neutral enclosure” to the point where I do not feel satisfied with art displayed in such an open, active space such as the one used in the graduate critiques. This very elitist setting for art to rest in has been debated and resisted, but how do you control space so it doesn’t take away or remove the focus from the art? Is the setting a part of the art? Questions will continue to arise yet I still found myself discontent with the critique space even though it was in an institutional setting.

Before the evaluation starts, the artist has the option to say a few words about their body of work before receiving critique. On the other hand, they can opt for a “cold read” where they do not give any explanation or context about their pieces. It is truly fascinating how artists describe their body of work as if they were reciting an artist's statement. In the room, there are six judges consisting of professors from different departments, with the critique lasting an hour to even two hours long. When opting to explain your body of work, the judges may ask a series of questions that begin to analyze and pick apart the explanation. During the hour, there was constant conversation and dialogue, sometimes even disagreements. They would pick apart the small details and start asking those “How?” and “Why?” questions to challenge the artist’s thought process and method of creating. The judges were vocal, equipped with an extensive artistic vocabulary, and viewed the art with seasoned eyes. Judges even ask about the choices behind the installation. Essentially they can be your worst nightmare or the catalyst for improvement. The formal and technical aspects were not discussed as extensively as the concepts, ideas, and meanings. It made me wonder if that was because art is inherently subjective, and you cannot judge an artist solely based on skill when there are so many different styles that do not emphasize the skill of an artist. Also, the judges consistently referenced art history canons, motifs, various contemporary artists, and even writers. That would explain why each panel of judges consisted of people from different departments so the artist receives feedback from people in different areas of the arts.

Each artist had someone transcribing and taking notes from their critique to look back and refer to later. I am assuming this is so the artist can focus and continue engaging in dialogue with the panelists. They pushed back on the artist, asked questions, and delivered a well-rounded critique. Admittedly, this did not happen every time, but I finally saw what it could be like being critiqued as a professional, and I met some exceptional graduate students and professors. The critiques sometimes confused me, sometimes it made me think, and other times it left me unsatisfied and disappointed with the direction of the conversation. Though that is how giving an honest opinion works, you will not always agree or be interested in what is said.

In the Oxford English Dictionary, a critique is defined in various ways. The definitions that stand out for someone new to experiencing critiques are: “The art or practice of analyzing, evaluating, and commenting on the qualities and character of something” and “an act or instance of passing judgment on, or expressing a harsh or unfavorable opinion of, a person or thing.” I have found the act and venture of receiving or giving critique is a personal, intimate experience for the artist and the audience.

Artists have been receiving criticism longer than we can imagine, and to be in a time where the idea of what art is has become so flexible. I can imagine that centuries ago, someone's career relied on criticism from influential people, but it transitioned to art created in opposition to these rigid, career staking critiques. Ironically, I created a video for a final project, mocking critique. It was startling for people to see their behaviors thrown back at them. With this in mind, I plan to continue attending these critiques and researching how to give and receive critiques for a body of work while also comparing how they happen in an academic setting compared to a non-academic setting.

Works Cited

"critique, n." OED Online, Oxford University Press, March 2022, www.oed.com/view/Entry/44607. Accessed 14 May 2022.

Ferguson, B.W., Greenberg, R., & Nairne, S. (1996). Thinking About Exhibitions (1st ed.). Routledge. https://doi.org/10.4324/9780203991534

[uwmadarchives]

Installing Taj Matumbi's Solo Show: A Visual Story

By Sophia Abrams, UW Archives Student Historian

Currently on display at the School of Education Gallery is Taj Matumbi’s solo show, Camouflage and Cologne, which will be on display until May 12, 2022. On April 12, I met with Matumbi in-person for the first time to install his work. Also, integral to the installation team was Elyza Parker, Madison-based videographer.

We began our installation process at 1:00 p.m. Elyza drove her four-wheeler and I sat in the passenger seat, going over last-minute logistics. When we picked up Matumbi from his house, the interaction of meeting someone in-person who you have previously only talked with virtually occurred. It is a familiar interaction that challenges the pre-2020 world’s implications for knowing and working with someone. An interaction that proves that you can get to know someone through virtual communication. In January 2021, I interviewed Matumbi for my oral history project. At that time, he was deep in creating his MFA Show. Since then, we have been in contact about my project and the greater art community.

Almost a year and a half later, the interviews and exhibition came to fruition. The first step was to install Matumbi’s solo show. 

We started the installation process at Matumbi’s storage unit. The reality of art is that it is large in scale and an artist can only hold onto so many works at a time. It was exciting to follow Matumbi through the warehouse, pushing a creaky cart that challenged every move we made toward his unit. Opening his unit, layers of Matumbi’s career were unearthed for me and Parker to glaze over in sheer awe. Parker and I stood outside of the unit as Matumbi pulled pieces for the show and we served as conduits to load his work onto the cart. Large cardboard boxes carefully protected month or year-long projects. Stacks of prints decadently showcased Matumbi’s evolving style. Perusing through his work, Matumbi selected a survey of paintings that demonstrate the nuance of his work.

1) Matumbi's work outside of his storage unit; 2) Parker admiring one of Matumbi's pieces; 3) Matumbi and I outside of the storage unit; 4) Matumbi and I at the storage unit loading work into the elevator. Photos 1 & 2 by Sophia Abrams. Photos 3 & 4 by Elyza Parker.

After we battled the squeaky cart prolonging our storage unit exit, we then faced a gusty wind that attempted to make it difficult to load the canvases into the car. Nevertheless, the three of us managed to load up Parker’s car with Matumbi’s art. Parker’s car was a lifesaver—I don’t know how we would have transported Taj’s large work without her four-wheeler. (Important lesson: always ask for help for art transportation and installation — it is way more work than you think!)

Due to Taj’s work taking up the entirety of Parker’s car but the front seats, Taj took a Lyft to the gallery. Separately, Parker and I were en route to the gallery. We stopped at Ace Hardware to pick up some magnets. Then we were off.

Pulling into the School of Education’s parking lot, the anticipation built. Birds shrilled and College Library stood in the background. We carefully pulled out Matumbi’s work from Parker’s trunk. Both of us had never been to the School of Education’s basement, so, for a moment, we carried large canvases into the building, slightly lost as to where to find the elevator. 

Once we were in the gallery, we found that the gallery coordinator left us some installation tools and we could carefully put down Matumbi’s work. Coincidentally, Matumbi arrived at the gallery and helped us finish unloading his art. Carrying the final works of art into the gallery was a dynamic experience. It reiterated the importance of art’s necessity to be seen.

The School of Education’s Gallery is a gallery inside the School of Education with glass walls and onlookers can see the exhibition from great lengths away. Centered on the main level near the cafe, students, faculty, staff, and community members can sit around the gallery and experience the art without directly going into the gallery. For me, it was fun to see students watch us unload the art into the gallery and begin to transform the gallery white walls with Matumbi’s colorful work.

Taking in the space (left); Deciding on work (right). Photos by Elyza Parker.

Once the work was brought into the gallery, Parker, Matumbi and I played around with the show’s order. We propped the work against the wall and pondered about color. We thought about scale and how we did not want the work to be shown in a “staircase” way. We took turns walking outside of the gallery to see how the work looked from far away. I took pictures on my phone and analyzed them to think about composition.

Thinking over composition. Photo by Elyza Parker.

Before we could actually install, Parker and I ran back to my house to grab the tools I forgot to pack. While it was a stop we did not anticipate, it was good for all of us to catch our breath and take a break before we installed the show. 

After much deliberation, we began to install. We drilled holes into the wall. We did the annoying math one must do to carefully hang work 60 inches from the floor. We redid it if something looked off. For every piece, we put the leveler on the top of the canvas and waited for the green dot to stay centered. This process was surprisingly fast. We fell into a rhythm like a dancer, helping each other in a choreographic-like manner.

And with that, the show, Camouflage and Cologne, is up! Check it out before Thursday, May 12, 2022, at the School of Education Gallery in Education Hall. The building is open Monday-Friday from 8 a.m. to 5 p.m. Thank you to the University Archives and the UW–Madison Division of the Arts’ Lyman S.V. Judson and Ellen Mackechnie Judson Student Award in the Creative Arts for making this show possible.

Parker photographing Matumbi, Photo by Sophia Abrams. Matumbi in front of his work, Photo by Elyza Parker. Gallery, Photo by Sophia Abrams.

#student historians #black arts #art exhibitions #art installations

[kuroo-shitsurou]

Auxilium (College!Xiao x College!Reader)

TW: mentions blood, depression, anxiety

note: it's my first time writing and posting something on tumblr so im sorry if it's bad!! reader is gn hehe.

Late February was never a good time for Xiao.

It was the second month of the year; People were starting to adjust and adapt to the ever-changing and progressing timeline. Although, he never really understood the concept of the "New year, new me!" shtick. Humans make decisions that eventually shape their personalities. What does a new year have anything to do with that? Does a change in the year automatically make you a good person? Does it make you less of an asshole than you might already be? He never really understood.

He found it rather silly, actually. Whenever a new year rolls around, Xiao would mutter silent curses to himself because he'd write the wrong year on his papers. Other than that, there wasn't any significant changes he made in his daily routine. He was still the same Xiao; The same anxious, mildly depressed, and coffee-high art major Xiao.

Now, Xiao was a respected figure in their college (or at least, that's what he was told). He was one of the most talented artists at Tokyo University, and professors have been eyeing him for a scholarship overseas (he, along with his brooding and mysterious senior, Diluc). His keen eye for details always produce great results as most of his portraits are featured in the university's gallery of students' greatest works. Not to mention, one of his larger canvas works were displayed at the Tokyo Museum, making him one of the youngest artists to have their art showcased there.

Admittedly, Xiao was aware of how people admired his talent. Unfortunately, due to a rough childhood where his parents barely showed him any love and affection, he had trouble reflecting his true emotions onto other people. That's why other art majors often labelled him as a self-absorbed, egotistical prick.

Xiao was the last person you'd want to compliment. It's not that he'd be a dick about it or that he'd scowl at you and act as if he was better than you in every way possible. It wasn't like that at all. It's simply because Xiao doesn't know how to handle compliments. He'll still keep his stoic face, lips pressed in a straight line, but deep inside, he'd be flustered to bits. He'd try to internalize his reply, stitching together the right words to express his gratitude, but it would always take him a few minutes. The person who complimented him would've already left after he finally constructed the sentence in his head. Not that he wasn't used to it

This led to Xiao earning his current reputation, as stated earlier. He was already expecting the rest of his college years to be spent alone in his studio, working on his artworks during the wee hours of the night, high on the fumes of his paint palette and his exhausted coffee machine.

Until you came.

Kaoru was... eccentric. You were loud, you were moody. He felt like you'd be the type of person he'd hate dealing with just because you was unpredictable. You were like the rain, and Xiao hated the rain.

He must have an Archon's cursed tongue, because he got paired up with you during the first semester of their second year in college. You were a familiar name to him, as you were in the same course since the first year, but he barely knew anything about you since you were in different classes.

"Hey, Xiao! I'm _____. I hope we can be good friends by the end of the semester!" His memory of your bright smile still remains vivid in his head. He wasn't really a brooding type like Diluc, but Xiao liked to believed that he presented himself as a silent person who had no intentions of interacting with other people. So, how were you so bubbly around him? Because she was forced to do so? You were to be his partner for the whole semester, after all. Maybe it was all formalities. Yeah, that's probably it.

"Hm." Xiao gave a nod in her direction, acknowledging your existence. you heard from your friends that the young artist didn't have a pleasing personality, but you weren't expecting to be shutdown from the get-go.

"Mind if I sit beside you?"

Again, a light nod.

You felt the awkward tension between you and Xiao, and you hated it. You were a person who hated it when people are uncomfortable in your presence. You didn't want to be a bother, and you did your best to make everyone like you. Not that you were a people pleaser, nor an attention hog, but you just wanted to get along with everyone.

The lecture was going to begin in twenty minutes, so the lecture hall was yet to be filled with people. You took the opportunity to strike up a conversation with the amber eyed man beside you, who was typing away on his laptop. Something about color theory and how it affects the perspective of people on different art types? You couldn't really see that well. He was a fast typer.

"So, Xiao, I heard that your painting was displayed in the Tokyo Museum last year. It must have been an honor. I was at the unveiling last year and I saw it up-close." You started off, testing the waters.

"And what did you think of it?" Xiao cringed internally. He meant to genuinely ask for your feedback regarding his art, but it sounded so harsh that he wanted to punch himself when he saw you wince (or maybe you shuddered because it was cold and you were wearing a sleeveless top? His nerves were getting the better of him at this point).

"Well, a lot of my friends told me that it wasn't anything special,"

Ouch.

"It was a large canvas. I can still remember how it looks. But, maybe that's because I'm at the museum every two weeks," You laughed. You noticed how Xiao's breathing noticeably changed after you started your sentence, and you have to admit that it sounded a bit too mean.

"You know, Xiao. My friends told me that your art was simple. Anyone could have done it. But honestly, they couldn't be more wrong. I love how your piece was painted. Auxilium. I'll never forget what you called it. That's... Help, right?"

At first, Xiao didn't want to listen to this person ramble about an art piece he made during one of the lowest points of his life.

His anti-depressants had run out during that one Christmas. It was 2:47 in the morning. He had morning classes the following day. He had a project to submit, but he was unable to continue working because of the unbearable pain in his chest. His head was throbbing. Voices were invading his mind. Flashbacks of his parents' negligence taunted him. He rushed to grab a glass of water, chugging it down in almost three chugs. He slammed the glass back onto the counter, smashing it into tiny little splinters and cutting himself in the process. His hand was bleeding, there were bits of glass on his counter and on his floor, but he couldn't care less. He was heaving, his breathing was unsteady, he wanted to die right then and there. His vision became blurry, but he rushed back to his studio.

With a bleeding hand, he picked up his brush and began to tear into his canvas. Not literally, but he started to create strokes onto the blank canvas. Different colors, different textures (he swore some of his blood got blended in with the area where he painted the sunrise, but it's fine. No one was going to notice, right?). He screamed and cried, wanting to throw the entire easel out his window.

It was Christmas. He was alone in his apartment. His anti-depressants ran out. He was having a panic attack.

That night led him to having one of the worst breakdowns he could remember, but he also ended up with a gorgeous painting that nabbed him a place in the Tokyo Museum.

"Help," Your voice echoed in his ears, snapping him out of his trance.

"People can tell me that it's nothing more than a simple painting, but the way that the sunrise was only showing in a segmented part of the canvas? The way that there were hints of red? It kind of reminded me how a new day can resemble hope but still contain hurt. Like, the promise of a fresh start isn't guaranteed a good one, right?"

Your words rang in his ears like a gong being hit continuously. He wanted to cry. People always complimented him and congratulated him about being recognized by art critics and national museums, but none of them ever really stopped to talk to him about his art. They were there for his recognition- not his work.

"I mean, you could begin with a fresh start, but wouldn't the remnants of yesterday still take a toll on your tomorrow?"

"Hm. Interesting take. To be honest, those specks could have been my blood." Xiao spoke up, to your surprise. A small smile formed on your face. Maybe this guy wasn't so bad after all.

"My hand was cut up when I was painting that," He added quietly, not mentioning why his hand was in that state. "I think I accidentally added too much concentrated red. I couldn't blend it out the way I originally planned."

"Oh? But that makes it all the more great, though!" You beamed, "Maybe it was an Archon guiding you? I don't really believe in that stuff, but acknowledging some divine intervention once in a while can't be all bad, no?" You laughed.

"I guess you're right." For the first time in a while, Xiao actually gave someone else a small smile. It wasn't really a smile per se, but his lips curved even the slightest bit upward, and you decided that it was a win for you.

-

Fast forward to the second semester of their third year.

Late February was never a good time for Xiao.

It was the second month of the year; People were starting to adjust and adapt to the ever-changing and progressing timeline. Although, he never really understood the concept of the "New year, new me!" shtick.

It had been years since he was clinically-diagnosed with mild depression. So, why was he still that way? Shouldn't new years help him be a better person? Or something like that. Why was he still like this?

Late February meant the end of one semester, and the start of another.

What else did that mean?

His semestral feedback report (he refused to call it a report card. What was he, high school?).

"Xiao? Are you here? I bought almond tofu from Xiangling's place. Sorry for barging in, you weren't answering my calls." He heard your voice from the kitchen and he glanced at the clock on his studio's wall.

1:37 AM.

You were at Xiangling's place because you were working on a report about the history of acrylic paints or whatever it was. You were supposed to go home, but you still dropped by his apartment. He checked his phone.

[ 14 missed calls. ]

Yikes.

"I'm here." He answered meekly, but loud enough for you to hear. He felt tired. Defeated, maybe. He was blankly staring at the canvas in front of him. He has sketched the base of your face and upper body. He was planning on painting a portrait of his beloved to decorate his room with, but he couldn't find the energy to continue.

He could hear the soft "thud"s of your feet walking from the kitchen towards the studio, but he tuned it out with an annoying static he could only hear in his head.

Fuck. Where are they?

He rushed to the drawer next to his easels and rummaged around in a panic.

Where the fuck are they?

He kept a few anti-depressants in his studio because he spends most of his time here and he didn't have time to rush to the kitchen to get them if he ever got a panic attack.

"Fuck!" He cursed loudly, throwing the contents of his desk onto the floor. Some of his paintbrushes scattered on the wooden floor of his studio, marking the wood various colors. Maybe they're going to stain, but he didn't really care.

Xiao heard the footsteps retreating until he couldn't hear anything else except the constant ringing in his ears. It was annoying. It was loud. It started to make him want to split his head open.

"_____," He whispered, feeling his chest hurt and his throat tighten. The passageways helping him breathe seemed to close themselves, giving him a hard time and mocking him. It was coming back again.

Tears started to flood his vision, and they rolled down his red cheeks. He took the ponytail out of his hair and used two hands to tug at his locks starting from the roots. His breathing patterns became more erratic, but he tried his best to stay calm.

His knees and legs felt like jelly. He had to lean against the desk to avoid from toppling over.

Why? Why again? Why now? Why when you were here?

He screamed. It was loud enough for the neighbors to hear, but his care for any external entities was out the window the moment his eyes became blurry with tears.

Even though he was leaning against the desk, his legs still couldn't hold the weight of his entire body. His knees dropped to the floor, and he swore he must've dented the wood below, but he paid no mind to it. His knees were also aching, but he could deal with that later. He bent down and pressed his forehead to the floor.

"_____," He whispered again, longing for his partner. "Auxilium."

"Xiao?" The voice was muffled. His eyes were glued to the floor in front of him, but he knew it was you.

"Xiao, stay with me, honey." There was a hint of panic evident in your voice, but he was glad that you didn't let that get the best of you. You was still somewhat calm.

You kneeled down beside him, helping him back to an upright position.

"Honey, you left these on the counter outside." You handed him two tablets of his anti-depressants, and he gladly placed them in his mouth. You also gave him a glass of water, and he downed it in two swift gulps. Afraid that he might underestimate his strength, he returned the glass back to you instead of setting it down himself, nodding at you in the process.

You got into a more comfortable position where you rested your back against the wall, and you guided Xiao to follow you. It was a difficult task; He was very sensitive during his panic attacks.

His semestral feedback reports always made him anxious. He didn't have to please his parents anymore since he moved out years ago, but Xiao had this nagging feeling inside of him to do better with his academics. Nobody was really pressuring him to be a straight-A student, but did he feel like he needed to be? Who was he trying to prove himself to anyway? You knew about his sever panic attacks and how they were more active if he had a big event coming up. The first time you had to deal with it, you were still stiff and trying to learn how you could help. Now, you takes pride in yourself for being able to handle him in the ways you know would help him the most.

"Here you go, I've got you." You cooed, assisting him with moving. You laid his head flat on her lap and she began stroking his beautiful, tousled forest green locks. The highlights he had under the first layer of his hair started to fade, and you made a mental note to take him to a salon so they could get their highlights redone.

"You know, I've been listening to a lot of Coldplay lately," You started speaking, as if Xiao wasn't about to have a full-on panic attack. "Yellow would have to be one of my favorite songs. I guess it's kinda cheesy, but can you blame me?"

You used your free hand to wipe the tears from his cheeks.

"Look at the stars, look how they shine for you." You began singing, voice just above a whisper.

"And everything you do. Yeah, they were all yellow."

Xiao was a reserved person who had a hard time dealing with other people because of his inferiority complex that sprouted when he was young.

"I came along, I wrote a song for you."

He didn't have love and affection growing up. He didn't know how to be the best person to talk to. He had poor communication skills. He was a mess, to be honest.

"And all the things you do. And it was called yellow."

You were the first person who looked past his rough and tough exterior. You were the person who showed interest not just in his name- but in him as a whole.

"So when I took my turn, what a thing to've done."

"Thank you," He murmured silently, noticing that the ringing in his ears vanished. His throat was beginning to open again, and he could finally feel the steady heartbeat he had in his chest.

"And it was all yellow."

Xiao curled himself into a ball, burying his face in your clothed stomach. You smelled a bit like smoke (maybe you ate yakiniku at Xiangling's?) and your faded cologne. It smelled like home. It washed a sense of relief over his entire being. He felt safe. He felt secure. He was being held like a child, but he didn't really mind. Maybe he needed this.

"Your skin. Oh yeah, your skin and bones,"

You craned your neck downwards to look at Xiao's figure. He finally looked peaceful. You knew about his rough past. You knew about the trauma he had to go through, but you chose to look past it because you knew that he was just afraid and... alone. He needed someone to be there for him, and you would rather the world die than leave him alone ever again.

"Turn into something beautiful."

You noticed how his chest started a rhythmic pattern of ups and downs. His breathing was finally steady. He looked at peace. He looked like he was right at home.

"Do you know? You know I love you so."

You couldn't help but chuckle as you watched him sleep in your lap. How could anyone think that this softie was an asshole?

"You know I love you so."

You barely whispered the last part of the song, but it was loud enough for his heart to hear it. Xiao hated when things were unpredictable; that's why he hated the rain. But now, maybe the idea of rain wasn't so bad. Especially since you were his rain.

"I love you, Xiao."

At that moment, you knew that the involuntary smile on Xiao's face was a response that contained more emotions than his words could ever bear.

"I love you too."

#genshin xiao #genshin impact xiao #xiao imagines #genshin impact #xiao x reader #genshin impact x reader #gi #genshin #xiao

[a-edgar-allan-hoe]

The Last Chthonian

Bucky x Reader, Sam x Reader, Zemo x Reader

Part 12

A/N: Here is Chapter 12 lovelies! Let me know if you would like to get added to the tag list! 🖤🔮🖤

Summary: Imagine being Hekate, the Greek goddess of magic and witchcraft, the night and the moon, doorways and crossroads, creatures of the night, and ghosts and necromancy. You stumbled upon Earth many centuries ago and since then have resided on the foreign planet. During the recent years you created an alias for yourself to hide your true identity, and after the war against Thanos you chose to live out your days in the Scottish countryside, until a certain trio appear at your doorstep one day.

Warnings: language, scars

“Logan?” You stared at him wide eyed and as he turned around to face you, you rushed in for a hug like a child, wrapping your arms around his frame as he returned the gesture, rubbing your back.

It had been so long since you had seen him. Logan had always been like a father figure to you, the father you never had, even though you surpassed him by thousands of years. He always had a paternal aura about him despite his rough appearance, and he was the one person you always turned to and shared all your secrets with. You had first met him back in 1861 during the Civil War when you disguised yourself as a young man so that you could join the Union. But he had seen right through your act when you refused to change or use the restroom in front of the men, always coming up with excuses that all the soldiers fell for, well except for him. You two still liked to laugh about the story till this day. And since the day you first met him, you two had formed an inseparable bond.

“Good to see you too kid.” Logan chuckled at your reaction to seeing him.

You pulled back from the hug, looking up at him with a scowl on your face before punching him in the arm.

“Ow. The hell was that for?”

“What the hell are you doing here? And why did you have to man handle me like that? You made me drop my phone.” You snapped at him, going over to pick your phone off the floor, glancing around to make sure no one was near before going back into the hallway.

“I’m here on business. Got some punk who’s ass I gotta catch.” Logan answered your question. “And if you ask me, you seemed to be the one doing most of the man handling.”

“Only because you had to grab me like some kind of creep.” You remarked. “So what, you’re following me now?”

“Like I said, I’m huntin down this criminal, or a couple criminals you could say. Just like you got your ring of demons huntin down human traffickers and the worst of mankind, I got my work too. So, what do I see when I’m about to slice up some punk? I see your ass here, running down the middle of the streets in a stupid dress and getting shot at by bounty hunters and criminals. The hell are you doing in a place like this? It’s dangerous.” Logan lectured you before pulling out his cigar.

“No shit Sherlock. I know it’s dangerous.”

“Hey, watch your attitude.”

“Says the one who taught me that attitude in the first place.” You put your arms across your chest in a defensive stance as you argued with him. “And you’re not the only one here on a mission, alright? I’m helping out a friend.”

“Yeah? Your friend drag you into this?”

“No, I came here on my choice.”

“I thought you were laying low but fair enough.” He nodded as he lit up his cigar. “How’s Athena?”

“Oh she’s doing great. She does miss you though, won’t stop talking about how she wants to see gramps.”

“Heh, she’s a good kid, you raised her well.”

“I did the best I could as a mother.” You sighed before punching him the arm again, this time lighter. “I’m starving and you delayed me from getting my pizza by the way, you remember that and you remember it well. Let the guilt haunt you for the remainder of your days.”

“Yeah yeah, I didn’t know you were on one of those psycho food missions. C’mon, I know a spot.” Logan ruffled your hair as you followed him out of the building, walking down the night lit street as you two caught up on recent events. You noticed that you had become more comfortable with the scar on your face. You stopped turning your face away in conversations and now even looked the person you were speaking with in the eye, allowing them to get a full view. And though you still received many looks, it didn’t bother you as much as it used too and you were now less ashamed of it. After putting in effort to hide your scars for so long because you couldn’t stand the sight of them, here you were putting them on display. After all, scars told stories. But part of you wondered if it had anything to do with what Zemo had told you. The way he looked right at you when he suggested you keep them visible because he thought it suited you.

“How’s everyone at the school?” You asked Logan.

“They miss you, the students as well, especially Rogue. They’ve been begging Charles to try to convince you to come back and teach Mythology and Classic Literature again.”

“I do miss the place.” You sighed as you walked the streets with your hands in the pockets of your jacket. “But I need some time. I promise I’ll be back soon though.”

“Hey, take your time. Just don’t take a hundred years.” Logan teased.

“I won’t.”

“Hey, this is the pizza place I was talking about.” Logan patted your back before gesturing to the little pizza shop. It was a little mom-and-pop place but the aroma that came through the doors made you salivate and your stomach let out a loud growl that sounded like a monster was trapped in there.

“Finally. I’m starving.” You groaned as you went up to the counter and ordered three boxes of pizzas.

“Geez, you gonna eat all that?” Logan looked at you after the wait as you went up to the counter to pick up your three boxes of cheese pizzas.

“Nah. One of them is for me. The rest is for you and the guys.”

“What guys? The ones who were running behind you when you were getting shot at?”

“Ya.”

“You need help with those?”

“Nah I got it.” You shook your head as you stepped out of the shop, you couldn’t wait to go back to the gallery and scarf down the whole pizza by yourself. You were hoping tonight you would pass out from a food coma so you could get a decent night’s sleep.

“Y/n?” You saw Sam step out of the entrance of the building once he saw you approach. “Where have you been? You said you were making a call. And what are you doing with those pizzas?”

“Yeah well I got hungry.”

“Who’s this?” Sam asked you as he eyed Logan.

“A friend.”

“What kind of friend?”

“A good friend Sam.” You replied as you walked back in to the building, the loud music and flashing lights filling your senses annoyingly once more.

Sam carefully watched the mysterious new man you had just brought in, following behind you as you went over to where Bucky was standing by the bar, dropping the pizzas down on the counter. “Pizza time!”

“What’s this?” Bucky looked at you, questioning why you had just brought in three full boxes of pizzas.

“This is Pizza. Don’t tell me you’ve never had pizza Barnes.” You remarked as you opened up the box you brought for yourself, pulling it up in front of you as you sat down on the barstool.

“I’ve had pizza before. I’m not that uncultured.” Bucky sighed at your statement. Why did everyone assume he didn’t have a clue about most things in the world.

“I’m kidding Bucky. You’re the one who asked the question ‘what’s this?’. Those two boxes are for you guys by the way.” You nodded as you took a large bite of the warm cheesy pizza, your mouth watering from finally having what you craved and not being able to resist the satisfied moan that came out of your mouth. “Wow. You were right Logan. This shit is good.”

“Told you so.” Logan smirked as he took a slice for himself, Sam and Bucky watching with caution at who this burly man with the leather jacket was that set his cigar down on the ashtray. “Hey slow down kid, keep eating that fast and you’ll choke.”

“Fucks sake Logan. Let me enjoy my food.”

“Yeah well don’t scarf it down. And watch your mouth.”

“You watch yours old man.” You laughed.

“Old? Look who’s talking artifact.”

Sam and Bucky stood in silence as they watched the two of you bickering amongst each other. Who was this and how were you so comfortable around him? They had never seen you this much at ease and it was as if you two were close for a very long time.

Logan caught them staring at him, glowering as he got up from his seat. “Got a problem bub?”

“Who the hell are you supposed to be?” Bucky questioned as took a step towards him, he didn’t like the aura this man had about him. He looked like an asshole.

“Why do you need to know?” Logan stared him down with a scowl as he stood inches apart from him.

You watched the confrontation between Bucky and Logan and nearly choked on your pizza as you saw Logan’s admantium claws come out of his knuckles, forcing you to jump between them. Bucky and Sam noticed this and raised their brows in surprise at him. They were trying to figure out what the hell it was that just came out of his knuckles.

“Woah woah woah! Enough of the testosterone. This is just Logan you two, I’ve known him for a really long time and he’s like a father to me so you can quit the glaring. Bucky, I said quit staring. Logan, this is Sam and Bucky.”

“Hang on.” Sam realized once he recognized Logan. “You’re that one guy, Wolverine right? From the X-Men?”

“Yeah.” Logan grumbled as he sat back down to finish his slice, not wanting to converse any more though you were always an exception for him.

“Hey where’s Zemo by the way?” You brought up as you noticed he wasn’t there and you couldn’t find sight of him.

“He’s dancing.” Bucky answered your question with a look that meant unbelievable as he nodded towards the dance floor.

And as you looked, there you saw none other than Zemo himself, in the middle of the dance floor, paying no mind to others and grooving along to the bass music with movements of his hands.

“No fucking way.” You gaped with your mouth open, your pizza slice hovering inches from your lips since you were too engrossed in the scene before you. Since when did he dance? You couldn’t believe your eyes at what you saw, here was this criminal, in the middle of the dance floor pumping his fists to the beat.

“I know right.” Sam scoffed as he watched with you. “I had to look twice to make sure of what I was seeing.”

“Did he? Did he just do a finger twirl?” You squinted your eyes and scrunched your nose in disbelief.

“Yup. Yes he did.” Sam confirmed.

“Wow.” You shook your head. “Unbelievable. I could never do that.”

“I thought you were a ballerina.” Bucky asked.

“I was. But that’s different. Anyways, I’m going to retire for the night. I think I’ve seen enough.” You got up from your seat, crushing up your empty pizza box and tossing it away. You bid the men goodnight and told them to leave a few slices for Zemo if he wanted any, adding how you didn’t care if he wanted them or not, it didn’t matter to you. You bid Logan a teary farewell and hugged him, he had to head back to his place and had some matters to attend to. You were heartbroken to see him leave so soon but hoped to see him again.

After conversing a little with Sharon, you went upstairs to one of the rooms she had reserved for the four of you. It was a comfortably spacious bedroom with a modern touch, matching Sharon’s personality perfectly. You closed the door behind you and took out your bag, setting it on the table that was in the corner as you slipped out of your current clothes and into your silk nightgown. After you were done cleaning up in the bathroom, you sat down on the bed under the covers and pulled out your phone, dialing Maze’s number.

“Hey Hekate. What’s up?” You heard her voice on the other line.

“Hey Maze. How’s everything going?”

“Everything is great. Nothing bad happened today and Athena and I did finger paintings. It was so much fun.”

“That’s great! I’m happy you guys are spending quality time together.”

“Yeah, I’m happy too. How are you doing? You sound exhausted.”

“Yeah, I’m ready to knock out.” You chuckled. “Everything is running smoothly so far though.” You thought about telling her the incident involving your powers from earlier but decided against it. You didn’t need her to start worrying about you. “Hey is Athena awake?”

“I was just about done getting her ready for bed. I’ll hand her the phone.” You heard Maze say before there was the sound of rustling.

“Hi Mommy!” You heard your daughter’s voice.

“Hi sweetie! How are you?” You smiled upon hearing her voice, which was something that had always lifted your spirits.

“I’m fine mommy! Maze and I did paintings today!”

“I heard! That’s wonderful! You’ll have to show them to me when I come back. I just wanted to talk to you and make sure you were okay. I’ll let you go to sleep now. Goodnight koukouvágia, I love you.”

“I love you too mommy!” You heard Athena hand over the phone to Maze.

“Thanks again for all this Maze.” You smiled.

“Anytime girl. No need to thank me.”

“Alright.” You had let out a yawn, tears of exhaustion forming at the ends of your eyes as your lids started to get heavy while you tried to keep them open, causing your vision to get blurry in the process. “I’m going to let you sleep and I should do the same.”

“Yeah. You definitely sound like you need it. Goodnight Hekate.”

“Goodnight Maze.” You hung up the phone and set it on the nightstand. Pulling up the soft covers, you laid down on the bed with one of your arms tucked under the pillow while the other was rested on top of your stomach. You had left the curtains open to allow the bit of moonlight in the room. You stared up at the ceiling, feeling your body become numb from fatigue and it’s desperate need for sleep. You don’t remember being this tired.

As you slowly shifted to unconsciousness, your thoughts drifted off to what was to happen tomorrow before shifting to what had happened earlier between you and Zemo at the bar. The way Zemo’s gloved fingers danced patterns on your bare back and thigh still somehow managed to leave goosebumps and chills on your skin, and you felt ashamed to feel that way. Part of you pondered on whether he could have felt the scars lining your back, and you prayed he didn’t. You didn’t want to have to explain to him the story behind the scars that still haunted you till this day. As these thoughts ran through your mind, your eyes slowly fluttered closed and your body finally succumbed to what would have been the power of Hypnos, sleep.

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#bucky fluff #bucky x reader #bucky x y/n #bucky fic #bucky x you #bucky x female reader #bucky fanfic #bucky imagine #sam wilson x reader #sam wilson x y/n #sam wilson fanfiction #sam wilson imagine #zemo fluff #zemo x you #zemo fanfic #zemo x oc #zemo imagine #zemo x reader #zemo x y/n

[blankdblank]

Brother Dearest Pt 78

Home a day early Norma exploded with anxious energy to be near her daughter who was confused to the meaning of the day, her first birthday. A cake was able to distract her mother and herself from that awkward energy for the beginning of their three day weekend together so Victor could take you to a stop at the studio to help with a possible new bout of ideas to refurbish the Cap comics. Still no one seemed to be able to come up with anything substantial except for a cross of the Howling Commandoes who would run into your animated family alongside Peggy’s alter ego. Which you all took off with that idea had came up with at least five different issues worth of them to mingle in the planned plot lines already animated and ready to be sent out when it was due to be printed. Quite gladly the guys had loved your pregnancy as now with these new ideas you had editions well through this year and into the next if anything should distract from the creative process.

.

Just past the hall with your last projects on display atop podiums you entered the workshop as people still milled around each choice inspecting each. Including yours which was a miniature town. Half a mine complete with a track for little carts and the other half a town encircled by a river. All of it powered by the waterwheel that moved the mechanics in the layer beneath the surface of the entire town. Streets between homes had lights on each corner with antique style lamp posts with two bulbs in them that switched colors at the filling and emptying of water tubes fed by that same wheel. Cars on tracks drove between the wooden homes to finish off the scene and impressed your Professor for how complex the mechanics were to the simplistic upper display.

Your place in the class came with questions but with ease at home in the shop the men around you relaxed at fears of tears or pestering questions to distract them. Now the main distraction came for the awe striking ways you got around the difficulties your size a half to a whole foot shorter than all of them to get things done and how naturally you knew various advanced tools and had no fear in using them. Today however you came with a spare bag of clothes that to the amusement of your classmates out of your heels you stepped and flicked unfolded at your side the trousers you brought. Pulling them on over the skirt of your dress you tucked that and the flannel you added into the top and secured the cloth belt you added next. Thick socks and your work boots came next showing much use to each press of your feet into the opposite knee to tie them and lower to repeat the step.

Unable to help it as you tucked your heels into your bag the Professor gave you a once over after having seen the others had swapped their dress shirts for thicker work shirts and as you wound your ponytail and bangs back into a bun underneath a bandana he greeted you all. “Good to see you’ve all come ready to get some grease on those elbows. We have a new project for you to finish off the summer semester. Out of solid steel each of you will be creating something that has a function. It must be a minimum of six feet tall and two feet wide, please no windmills, there will be a supply near each of your stations and in the supply room. I want you all to think long and hard about what you want to make and how you would create that function in hopefully an ingeniously new way. You will only have the time in class when we meet so no spare after class time or weekends. So manage your tasks properly and keep to a schedule as best as you can.”

His eye shifted to you as you raised your hand and he nodded your way in his usual signal to speak, “Does it have to do a job or just do something?”

Across his lips a smirk tugged and he answered, “It just has to do something, make it light up, make it move, be unique. I repeat no windmills.” He said and motioned his hand to the side for you all to head to your stations. Right away he and his aid chuckled at your usual pop up onto the counter that reached your ribs to reach the gloves and apron in your cubby assigned with your name on tape laid across the edge of it.

Sons of mechanics, car enthusiasts, electricians and builders filled the class on their way to get their Engineering degrees to join the family profession and to their amusement with your own ideas you seemed to be fairly at the same level of skill as the group who was used to building models and things since they were little. Once the spare layers were added and you had taken a few minutes to simply stare at the sheet of steel resting on the mount there to hold it upright to think of what to make. The smirk that tugged across your lips intrigued the Professor and his aid that something interesting was coming as your mind had come up with something. In the same stunning fashion your tiny self eased the sheet of metal a foot taller and two feet longer than your body off the mount and onto the cutting stand you had made the first week in for your shorter self. You knelt on top of that to use just a couple feet off the ground compared to the waist high ones the guys used with ease at possession of longer arms and legs.

With cutting torch in hand over the numerous chalk outlines the sound of metal falling echoed in your ears between sounds of the others at their own stations working with hammers or torches of their own who weren’t still on the design on notepads. Around each station the Professor moved with his aid in opposing paths to get a sense of what you all were doing, notepads in hand to make notes while students as usual stood outside the windowed wall to peer in at what you all were doing. That angle especially helped to add images of yourself and the guys for the yearbook the school had for even the summer semester as well. When the metal was spent and left to just outlines into sections you cut what remained with a smirk hidden by your face shield at the perfect alignment of metal shapes to be part of the body you required. Just one layer but as usual you strove to not waste an inch of the metal or supplies given and set those aside to begin on the mechanics.

Gears, rods, all fashioned down with sanders and buffers for a smooth finish and even on a few securing grooves to be used later to lock things into place all were wound together with or near to wires and conduits for pathways of motion. All the Professor could see but the end of the day was the sheets of metal in the cutout mount along the wall. Noted with tape to not be used for scrap by others and a clump of a motor nearly the size of your body with octopus like mess of limbs that he saw you link small switches and levers to the whirring core that after the charge from the center mechanics you had wound like a clock began to slow left no hint at all what any of it could be meant for. But that was it and for the next day he would have to simply steal glances at the chunks of your projects to try and figure out what they were meant to do until the next class when he could see some more progress on the lifeless piles of metal.

.

“You look excited,” Victor hummed as James took hold of your bags with a kiss on your temple.

James smirked saying to the scent of metal shards on your hair and skin, “You’ve been welding again.”

“I’m building a moose.” You said making them chuckle as you delved into the new project you had been given.

James said, “Well a moose will certainly be large enough for the size requirements. What are you going to make it do?”

“Walk and move around,” you said widening their grins. “It’ll be risky but I think I can pull it off even if I have to sneak in some magic to do it.”

“I’m certain you can, Pipsqueak.”

Ten days had gone and flew by as again before the crack of dawn tears came and the now the three spotted children showed the final steps of the chicken pox that had upheaved the household. And after a trio of oatmeal baths for 20 minutes the babies now with socks tied into their hands were put back to bed until they woke for the next round of baths and calamine lotion to soothe the itchy patches away until they were gone.

.

Mr Fenske again had your morning. And through the afternoon while you couldn’t work on your project you brainstormed and practically filled a notebook with diagrams and plans for what exactly to do when you got back to the shop the following day to hopefully get done with plenty of time to spare and polish the giant moose up for its big debut. Sleep wasn’t hard to gain with the rain. Though by morning said rain made it a bit difficult to want to leave your still groggy girls who barely made it through breakfast but you still did simply to get the next attendance points closer to credits to get you your Bachelor’s degrees by next summer and onto the way to your Masters then Doctorates. You made plans and in sticking to them you could only make a great example for your girls to be what they wanted to, even if it didn’t involve as much schooling as you were pushing yourself through.

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Back inside the second Art History class notice of a change was evident on everyone’s faces to the lack of a model or item to focus on and the Professor’s place in the front of the floor to say when you had all arrived. “For your final projects there will be no model given to you. You will supply your own muse and in the style of a painting Master you will complete two paintings of at least 12x16 each that will center around a single memory. Something that is not well known about your life, a moment of unadulterated trust. They must be a pair and be supported by a description of the memory that you all will present at the gallery at the end of this semester where each of the pieces you have completed in every class will be displayed for others to view and comment. This is your final exam, take it seriously and do not disappoint me.”

Monet’s style seemed to be something you could adapt into whatever you decided to paint. Back to Monet’s paintings your mind wandered and in the various chosen models for each of those with people in them his main focus on landscapes had you think of something that would not be another copy of one of his works. Your brain however looped back to that brothel and onto the first sheet of your sketch pad to mock up what you would paint James with his coat over his head and cigar in hand made an amusing image with details of a plume of smoke along with the beams of light from the milky curtain coated window could make for something unique. And with it would be James in that bathtub with his boots and uniform on the floor still with hold of that cigar.

There wasn’t much of your private life you wanted to share, namely your courtship with James, but you hoped he wouldn’t mind having the back of his arms, head and shoulder blades in display for however many people would be attending this gallery showing. On major project turned to two and you just wanted to get this over with. Normally you liked your Professors but this class couldn’t come to an end soon enough even if you did get along well with those from your other courses. Basic details on the first scene with him against the door was begun on a fairly decent sized easel above the required size in a means to get what details you wanted included without compromise. Anatomy and Physiology was a welcome distraction and after Communication you were free to get back to your moose.

Once in your work layers to the side of your list of necessary parts you crouched with cutter in hand to add more body pieces to the pile to assemble later. Some you left flat while others made use of the rolling press the Professor and his aid enjoyed the glimpses of hidden strength you displayed in warping the metal to your needs, each rotation of that crank took a certain amount of strength to get the bend required. While others were slid into the other metal press that with a lever bent the sections at whatever straight angle possible with enough force. Every piece only added more mystery for how they blended together until from the mess after a bit of welding around the internal support rods and gears to work the joints properly and still be able to withstand the weight of all needed to in every movement.

With the internal mechanism and the cutting mainly done now it was easier, simply overlaying the outer shell. Carefully each leg was fashioned together and down every joint tested for smooth motion you required from the different swaying sections that while still seemed a whole piece until the motion began and every joint showed its purpose to shift and then come back to its place in smooth circular motion similar to how actual moose move in real life. Rope in hand once the supporting frame you’d worked out that looked more like axels on a car of simple rods fashioned together you stood tying a wrench to one end then looking up at the only higher form of support you had, the metal beams in the rafters. There was a pulley but the chain had snapped and it was too far up and too little used to warrant replacing it yet somehow a decade later. So this was what you were left to. One end of the rope was tied to one of the legs and with a good toss the wrench flew up and over the beam above your station to fall straightening the rope with it.

The motion and fall of the wrench helped to lift the leg a couple inches off the ground at one end and with a hold of the wrench with an easy pull the leg came upright off the ground and lured the gaze of the amused Professor at your self made pulley. Securely on the ground around the support rods, that balanced on top of a stool, the hoof was settled and with an easy loop of some twine from one of the cutouts through the holes drilled into the end of the support rod the hopeful anchor was tied with an easy to remove bow. Grip of the second front leg proved you were making a hooved creation and off your shoulder you moved the leg into perfect alignment and tied it off after a few confirming checks that it was straight.

Three legs soon grew to four and from the ground and from the leg the rope was removed to fashion like a noose around a series of hooked straps linked to the belly plate now welded to the inner mechanism that with a good firm grip what a woman your size shouldn’t be able to lift the three hundred pound motor and plate with ease was gradually lifted from the ground where you had left it to be. Once the rope was tied at the right height to the leg of your workstation it was wiggled into the right alignment to lessen the strain of the rope as each edge came to rest perfectly in the connecting mounts.

Both bolted and welded down into place the security was tested amusingly for those who looked over at your grips on each leg and end of the lower half of the body to give it several firm shakes to test the stability of everything with mental checks of how it felt to ensure it wouldn’t collapse or move in a way that anything would get locked up. Down the legs the mechanics were lowered and using long necked allen wrenches you secured the screws into place before you began to work the body frame up for the sides and back with a start on the neck mount to go around the support rod from the belly mount that the mechanics there were anchored to.

The basic shape of the head came to life and atop that came antlers that rather uniquely was where the controls there was mounted underneath to be closer to the ears that it would control. Kneeling atop the workstation that you merely used to house the next part up or the tools needed the head came to life widening the grins on the faces of the Professor and his aid. Both who were beyond amused at the creature you had chosen. Amongst the other students who chose things from a giant nutcracker to a mechanical hammer wielding figure that did little else than lift and lower said hammer opposite the rotating carousels and even a tree with branches that wiggled and could be used to hold items on the trays welded atop them you had chosen the boldest design. And the most curious. Surely you had to have something up your sleeve, there had to be more to the moose than what they were able to see.

“Well, well, well, it would appear you all are getting along swimmingly in just two days.” The Professor stated as you all began to clean up for the day, including yourself who accepted help from another taller student to cover your moose with a sheet as others had done for their own projects. Turned around when you released the end of the sheet in your hands you looked the Professor over seeing that he was clearly up to something with that spreading smirk of his. “And when we meet again you will find a fresh supply of sheet metal at each of your work stations. Those supplies will be pertinent in creating a second miniature partner of what you have already produced. Four feet tall and one foot wide minimum. It does not have to be an exact copy but it does have to be related to the initial creation.”

Groans from the guys however were muddled by giggles from yourself in a momentary rest of your head against the side of your moose out of the sheer amount of work that would have to go into making a second moose from scratch the next day you would be in this class. The day was over for you at least and when you got home you could focus on your girls again and simply leave the planning to the weekend while they napped for a game plan to get the ball rolling on a baby moose. Need for a good meal and a nap read across your face and had James ask, “Who am I punching?”

In a giggle you shook your head and melted into his offered hug. “I have to make a second moose.”

The pair chuckled and when James took hold of your things Victor gave you his own hug and he hummed, “We stole a glimpse at your moose. Well done. Have to be the same size?”

“Half the size of it. It doesn’t have to be a moose, just has to be related but the only thing my brain can think of moose related is moose.” The pair smirked and you said, “We’ve just got two more classes until semester is over and we have to present things.” You glanced up at James, “I can paint you in the tub, right?” That had an awkward grin split across his face and you said, “We have to paint a memory, I picked at the brothel that one time. But you won’t mind?”

“You can paint me however you like, Darling,” he said leaning in to steal a quick kiss. “I look forward to seeing it.”

“Two its, so I have to paint two paintings and build two moose. Then show them in presentations.”

Victor smiled asking, “Do we get to keep the moose?”

“I don’t know,” you answered in a giggle. “I don’t know what they expect them to be used for or if they will want us to destroy them.”

“We are not destroying your moose,” they both said.

Victor, “We’re gonna find the perfect spot for them in our home. Do we get your art too after the gallery or do they expect people to buy them?”

“I think so. We have to share a story for the paintings but I’m not sure if they sell them off, there hasn’t been any talk of that so far.”

Victor, “Hopefully we get to keep those too. And we have cake at home.” He said making you grin up at him, “Petal’s spots are gone. Herc’s giving her a full workup along with the triplets.”

You glanced at James who said, “Belly time tests, they’re doing well, necks are nice and strong, arms show signs that they are almost ready to roll over.”

“At least I haven’t missed that yet.”

James chuckled letting you into the car to sit between them saying, “Well you missed a hell of a tantrum from Teddy.”

“Aww,” you said and they both chuckled.

“He needed a nap. Just got too overwhelmed after his last bath and took a good seven minutes to climb down from that mountain. He has a set of lungs on him that boy. Dawn held firm but Eddie had to take a walk.”

“He always hated it when kids cry. Mama Brock used to joke he’d hate the terrible two’s, but so far he has been a little angel.”

“He has,” Victor hummed. “He calmed down and apologized for throwing his toy. Then said he just wanted to go to sleep and didn’t want to have his check up until after.”

“Well I’ve been on the edge of tears from a check up myself.”

James chuckled, “We all empathize, he spent most of last night up with those baths and calamine lotion applications. Even Eddie needed a nap. Dawn’s mom came over to watch him and Marigold for a bit so they could breathe. It does seem they are all in the clear.”

.

Tummy time was the beginning of your days off and as the trio of girls exercised their heads, necks and arms smiles spread at your nodding off on top of the quilt for a nap that afterwards gave you enough energy to delve into those plans of yours. Alone once the triplets had been put to bed a stolen grip of James’ hands had his smile spread then melt away in the ease of his hands behind your back to lean in and accept the kiss you rose up on your toes to claim. Up from his jaws into his hair your fingers worked in a blind tug to bed as you mentally closed the doors to the room his body followed you to the bed.

Three months had blew by and nearing the end of the summer for the first time since before your belly had begun to grow lost to muffled giggles and broken smile laced utterances of adoration fixed firm in your arms he remained. All night he refused to pull back and break the hold you had on him to savor the romantic return to amorous evenings that were mutually focused. Months you had focused on him as he held himself back to keep you safe and when he had ensured he had pulled on his pants and eased his shirt over you into his arms your body nestled to drop off to sleep. Safe in his arms to whirling dreams as he savored the mixture of his scent and that of his wife’s to the burrow of his forehead into the top of your head. That mixture that while you were in school he could catch hints of on those three girls that by the day improved leaps and bounds to one day be independent little people who would shake up his days to keep them all safe and content.

Herc already had shared that Beserkers never had babies back to back and genetically there would be little chance to conceive before the girls were two years old. Yet that doubt still lingered and pretending as if the same methods of the pill and sleeves that had failed to keep you from conceiving the triplets those methods were picked up again as a sort of call for hope that they might be able to find that goal of two years true before another baby or babies could be arriving. It was just one more year and you would be on the way to graduate studies to do with as you pleased. Seven years wouldn’t be that long for an entire estimate of time to earn them, and there were so many years after that could be quite indescribable for how many possibilities there were with freedom of no school to shuffle between. Even traveling the world could be possible any time you wished if that was what you wanted. He didn’t care as long as you were together and could end each day in one another’s arms.

.

Following final exams with Mr Yarbrough for your History, Geography and Religion courses at home Tuesday again brought on the next to last time you would be on campus. Both your paintings had greater detail and fed into a successful task of carrying out the beginnings of your smaller moose. Thanks to the ample planning the internal mechanism and basic body shape was fashioned on a smaller pallet beside its larger parent. Mother and child as you had intended now was swapped for father and child due to the antlers that were needed to help counter balance the body’s movements.

Followed by a long session with Mr Fenske to take the final exams for your Economics, Government, Political Science and Anthropology on Wednesday the rest of the summer here in Canada would be far simpler as the courses here were in their final week.  

On Thursday more exams however would be waiting for you. Art History came first and was a lengthy exam that let you out a bit early to head for your next Art class and mentally prep the plan for the finishing touches on the paintings. Anatomy and Physiology came next for another complex exam you felt a bit anxious for how you might fare on the few essay questions at the end. Communication came last before your final class that held you from freedom with a hefty exam of its own. And when that let out past freed students rushing to savor the end of their own summers with your classmates you walked to head for your Engineering course.

Once there the same Professor who seemed excited to watch the second sculptures come to life began this final class by his posture alone had the guys around you mutter, “No.”

The word making him chuckle and smooth his palms together. “I have one final requirement one final sculpture that is a foot tall or less to go with the previous two.”

Unable to help it you let out an exasperated giggle and hung your head to smooth a hand over the back of your neck for a pose that had one of the guys tease, “Come on Bunny, you can break out another moose.”

Which had his friend say, “Just a tiny one.”

After another giggle you answered, “I am not making another moose.”

Your eyes shifted to the Professor who said, “All your supplies are at your station and in the store room. Good luck.”

At the tall station you stood tapping your pencil to the notepad you had doodled up a few choices and decided on something a bit wild. Gears were the first to be cut again and the inner mechanics were worked out with the bodies to follow. An absurdly large duck was crafted and behind it on wheels that tiny feet were faked to rotate around each rotation and a mechanical chain three ducklings would follow after their mother that would waddle around to the command of the controller you had fashioned at the end of a long string of wires to connect to the inner mechanism.

You weren’t the only one adding smaller details in hopes to not be asked for more to add for the final grading. Each project that spread his proud grin for this latest batch of students who showed promise if they continued this field. All together when the final touches were completed every student cleaned up the stations and made certain all the projects on their pallets were coated with sheets to keep them protected for the following day when they would all be shown for all who chose to come.

.

Early home amongst the rest of your siblings and Erik Norma smiled widely in a stroll through the projects that lined a vast courtyard and surrounding halls the Professors took a stroll through to inspect each piece and took note son how they all worked. Out of sight the empty slot with a metal stand bearing a card with your name on it amongst your classmates’ steadily filling slots there was no trace of you, however Stark and Mr Jarvis both stood waiting for one. Both who smiled and greeted your family promising to be at the painting gallery show as well the following day.

“Ooh, there’s Pipsqueak,” Victor said in a turn after catching sight of you in your mint sleeveless sundress down an empty hall with a pair of men behind you who were pulling two pallets on raised jacks. Smiles spread in curiosity at notice of the familiar silhouette of moose antlers under the larger sheet. Right up next to one another the pallets were lowered and with a bit of help the sheets were removed enabling Stark to move closer and inspect the internal parts as best he could to guess what they could do. The task that had him locate the switches on the side he only got a smirk from you in response of his gesture their way while you listened to James and Erik in proud boasting of what you had built.

When the group of judges did arrive they each looked the trio of creations over and your Professor said, “Now, Mrs Howlett, if you wouldn’t mind.” Eyes watched as you moved a sheet of metal that was forged into a long ramp that had gone unnoticed and was hiding a trio of crank keys shaped like drills for ice fishing that had an outer handle to keep it steady and an internal one to rotate the tip, the largest of which you lifted. Over to the shoulder of the largest moose you inserted the tip into the key hole there and like a clock wound the mechanism until it wouldn’t wind anymore then removed the crank to stun those looking on at the sound of clanks and a growing hum as it powered up readying for movement. The smaller four foot baby moose was cranked next followed by the duck that with a simple flick of the switch started the chuckle luring first step on the pallet.

Back around the baby moose you moved having flicked the switch on its side as you did that on the larger one that turned heads when the front and back left legs lifted to start walking. Open mouthed the crowd looked on as you guided the larger two statues off the pallets to enter the cleared path on the courtyard. Simple toggles of switches had the heads move to turn the pair and another to wiggle the ears.

“Oh my,” one of the judges stated looking in awe over the functioning moose duo that around you as the duck led its ducklings around the path you followed to circle the nearby fountain.

“She made functioning robots…” Howard muttered to himself and glanced at Jarvis only to look back at the sound of the gears slowing down causing the outer plates shifting around the moving joints, back and limb until the pair began to come to a stop as the duck continued to wander around a few moments more.

“How…?” another Professor spoke and you answered, “Well there’s no battery, just crank powered. Since it’s made of hundreds of pounds of solid steel it doesn’t run very long, but I was inspired by Grandfather Clocks.” Another crank of the animals was called for so they could get to test the switches and get closer looks at the moving components inside until the group had to move on and simply the animals were up to being photographed some more back on their pallets that when the demonstration was through were loaded onto the trailer the guys had borrowed from a neighbor to bring the animals home. At least there you and Erik could make them work much longer and improve upon the designs at your whims to at least make the ducks run longer for the older children to play with. And when he sat down for lunch while you started to nurse your girls he asked, “And just how long did they give you to build those?”

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The following morning wasn’t free of any nerves as the duo were amongst the hundreds who came to this museum sized gallery that had been chosen. Different days the gallery would be filled with each class the Professor instructed and today following the order of how your easels had been lined up you got a few peeks at the other student’s pieces until you found yours in the last section opposite the young woman’s artwork on display. Soon the numbers began to grow and while you tried to answer as many questions on they style as possible you couldn’t ignore the number of cameras being snuck in by those Eddie could tell were from papers throughout Canada. Chatter however in the distance had grown and waned in the path of a particular group.

Salvador Dali, Hemingway, T.S Eliot on a working vacation of sorts had made a stop here today having read about the show in the paper. More than a few pieces inspired by the famed painter got ample comments until saved for last the Professor slid into the room listening to their impressions of each students’ sketches and paintings. Every story shared of the final paintings were noted down and quietly you listened yourself as the other young woman opposite you spoke hers then listened to comments and was freed herself. Finally the crowd who had waited around stood in wait as the group asked you about each sketch that seemed to be more impressive than the last at the varied tries of each style. Including a sketch that was in Dali’s style that made him grin your way, “I just may have to convince you to sell me this one.”

The grin that eased across your face shifted to Hemmingway in his asking about your portraits, “You painted a soldier? Was the roof leaking, that why he’s hiding his head?”

Softly you chuckled and answered, “These are my husband James.” That turned his gaze to you a moment then back to the portrait as you said, “When we were in Europe we made more than a few stops in brothels along the way. This one James got stuck babysitting me and when he found a tub in our hotel next door we could take turns in a few of the guys came upstairs and there wasn’t a lock. So he sat against the door with his coat over his head in my turn, and while I dried and combed my hair he took his own turn.”

Elliot chuckled and said, “It is a striking memory to capture on an easel.”

The Professor asked as Hemmingway moved a bit closer as if to decipher which brothel neighboring a hotel this was, “You stopped in brothels often?”

“No secret men at war crave companionship. Most of the time when we crossed paths with other platoons their men were too distracted by the brothel to notice I was there.”

Hemmingway stated, “Must have been a harrowing trial in your lifetime to be thrown into war so young. We are all amply fortunate you do not exude grimmer angles of those experiences outside of what you publish in your comics.”

A statement which had your Professor state, “Those are fiction.”

A statement that had the author who had been there himself including your arrival at Normandy say, “No, they are not. Saw more than one Battle Bunny and Venom freed city myself. Every issue rings far truer than some might claim to believe.” His eyes locked on you and he said, “I have seen you tear planes from the sky and machine guns from those hill hidden bunkers. To not have chosen to show that is great courage to bear what you have on your heart rather than your wrist.”

Dali said, “And the care you have taken of these shoulder blades, no detail of his strength missed. Bold choice. A show of relaxation and hunched focus and tension, excellent contrast.” Around your back James folded as the Professor gave his own comments and took notes on his way to make another round of everyone’s art to hear what newly arrived people were saying. The artist when he was gone crept closer to your side making you smile as he said, “Do not mind his opinion. You have captured Monet’s style with ease and respect to his technique.”

A lunch after when the works were boxed up and taken to be locked in the trunks of your cars with the famous faces was highly documented. Including the signing of the sketch you passed over to Dali and the ones that Elliot and Hemmingway chose for their own collections to leave you the ones you preferred to your own tastes and the pair you had painted of James.

No shortage of people had claims of having met you and gotten signatures and moments to speak with you on various subjects slipped in between more thoughts on your work. These pieces of art gave way to more as riding on the tails of this showing of your artistic skills like that for Kodak before led into the release of your second photography book that exceeded the sales of the first and had four signings in Canada with two settled for when you would get back to New York just like the last time. Stops that would distract you until you would receive copies of your transcript to take back with you to Barnard on how you scored in your summer courses.

Pt 79

All –

@sherala007​, @mariannetora​​, @jesgisborne​, @knitastically​, @catthefearless​​, @theincaprincess, ggbbhehe4455, @lilith15000​​, @alishlieb​​,

Not nsfw(smut) - @otakumultimuse-hiddlewhore​

X Marvel-Cast - @himoverflowers​, @theincaprincess​​

Brother Dearest - @thorinanddwalinsdwarrowdam​​, @swoopswishsward

#James Howlett x OC #Victor Creed x Norma Jeane #Eddie Brock x OC #End of Summer Courses #Final Projects #Famous Faces