#finally putting my brand new sketchbook to use ...

[picory]

i think... i'm cooking. still a ways to go (clearly) before i master it, but i think i like working with gouache!

[dennydraws]

Here is to 2024!

Hello, hello ~ I didn't get to do a proper new year journal entry about 2023, about plans for 2024... so here it is! \o/

I think 2023 was a year of growth for me. I finally invested into getting an ipad and procreate and while it was the cheapest possible I could grab, it tremendously improved my art in both speed and quality. I realized my biggest issue with digital art was how tired I was after work. I just couldn't bring myself to hunch over my desk and even if I was dying to draw I just couldn't. But the ipad made it possible to draw everywhere and after work, drawing from the couch was like a blessing! I don't look into investing further into bigger ipad, the gen 9 one is absolutely perfect for my needs so far. :>

2023 was no buy new art supplies year! I attempted to do big art challenge where I use my current art supplies with reckless abandon ...but for one reason or another (ok lets be real, I just juggle too much at once xD;; ) I couldn't keep up. However, I did resist buying new art supplies and gave away most if not all that weren't working for me! Which felt great! It's just so sad seeing art supplies that aren't used and seeing someone excited to receive them just gave me ultimate warm fuzzies :D Going into 2024 I think to continue with the no buy art supplies until my current stash is reduced some. Not that I have abundance of brands and things but I tend to be on the minimalist side and I don't enjoy having clutter of supplies if I can help it.

Onto 2024 with... hopefully a Youtube Channel! That's right! That's a new thing :D;; I want to start doing art youtube videos! But also, again let's be real. I don't know if I will be able to keep up with it. So I don't want to overly invest into it money wise but also, it's something I've wanted to do for years now but something kept getting on the way. So I think I want to try it now! I have this giggly excitement over the idea of planning what pictures to draw and editing and showing the process and talking about it... or talk about art and life in general, I hope it will be fun! And I hope it will be fun to watch for whoever might be interested to give it a look :D Return of the sketchbook flip through videos? :D;; Of course every beginning is hard and awkward and it will be sloppy but also, that's also part of the fun! I want to keep it casual and fun - no stress, only good vibes!

Sneric Comic, Sneric Comic! Oh, boy I need to get back into the gist of things again! XD I have outlined chapter 10 but the story bits after are a bit on the vague side. I'm still looking forward to putting the story together and printing it one day to have it on my shelf and be like - another one done! \o/ I'll get there, slow and steady!

So... onto 2024 where I hope I will do more with my art than scatter images through social media. And of course new adventures in FF14! And at last Eiyuden comes out (I backed it way back during kickstarter :D!) and maybe we'll finally see the Suikoden remaster come out too!

Okay that got too long! Thank you for stopping by, dear reader! I hope 2024 is amazing for you and full of positive growth!

[k00323041]

THE FINALE OF THE ASSEMBLE PROJECT (2024):

The last thing I focused on was how I should display my art piece. I thought about the area of where I was putting it, the lighting, and the overall presentation of it.

So in the last day or so, I made a little platform for the art piece, to simply bring it up to the viewer's eyes, and to emphasize it's importance. I also painted it black to draw the viewer's attention to the art piece more than the space it's in.

Then on that black box I've made, I made another little attachment to it to showcase the story behind it, and the meanings of it too. This is simply so that viewers could understand and engage with the art piece better, rather than guessing what it's about.

It's the least of my intentions for them to overlook the importance, meaning and thought behind it, despite it's unassuming, and miniscule appearance.

After I have made the artpiece's set up, I then found a suitable area for it. I took natural lighting into consideration because I wanted to give it a natural feel to it, to really bring it to life. So I decided to try to see if having no natural light would look any better.

Long story short, it did not provide the results I was looking for... You can clearly see that the scythe is not illuminated as much as I was intending for it to be, because of no natural light.

The details seem to be diluted and making it look unrealistic also, like a toy.

So I took away that piece of felt I was testing it with, and decided to stick with it this way. Why? 1) Natural lighting.

2) Landscape behind it. (Emphasizing the unevenness of the land and drawing the art piece closer to the nature behind it, acting as a background.)

So here's how I left it to be:

I also added in some extra elements to fill that empty space, and to also bring the viewer's into the evolution process of how it came to be. (They are also complimenting the sketchbook l, with all of my rough work.)

I chose these two because:

1) The hand, in my opinion was just made well. It also includes the viewer more by making it a human hand in action.

2) I also chose the plaster casting of actual wheat, simply to immerse the viewer more into the real-life aspect of it too. I found this little cloth underneath the plaster, and I thought it might be a nice touch to it, giving it almost the likeness of bread doh, or freshly baked bread. This also contributes to the theme of why the wheat is kept and the tares thrown away.

The last thing I'd like to mention is why I added the crumpled brown paper. I crumpled it for texture and to show the hills, lumps and bumps of the uneven surface of the land which the wheat is planted onto.

To conclude this project:

Firstly, I'd like to mention that it was definitely an interesting experience, with some climaxes. It taught me to take some risks and try different concepts, even if they might not look promising. People say "trust the process" but the process gave me trouble, so I had to "Trust God" instead, after all - why not include the author of the Bible himself? I haven't learned a whole lot of brand new skills, since I have played around with 80% of these medias before, however, that does not mean I was not combining and exploring materials in very different ways, that I've never done before. For example, Ceramic and a door mat, or using real straw I found in my garden, which was very interesting to me. I also never plaster casted anything before, so that was a very new experience for me. What I could improve on next time if I was to do this again would be to simply create more "better" prototypes for ideas. I tend to have a bad habit of not going 100% if it's something I know I will not use - I don't like to "waste" time or energy in things I know won't benefit me.

Lastly, I pray that people may not dismiss the message in the art, and that they may reflect it into their own life too.

The End!! (For Semester #1)

[galaxyrosestudio]

Greetings, Dudes and Dudettes, my name is Fifi Mae and this is my new blog.

This will be primarily an art blog, for a while there will be a mix of old art from my archives and brand new art.

My main types of art are fashion and graphic designs.

I have had a passion for fashion since I was nine; i used to use these plastic stencils to draw dresses and outfits that were usually not the most stylish, but it helped me grow. Over the years I filled many many sketch books with designs as well as other experiments with art, including character design. My designs have been described as ‘Unique but not costume-ie,’; many of my designs are inspired by food, fantasy, my nerdy interests and other miscellaneous objects, and are designed in a way that you know where the inspo comes from without being tacky or…well ‘costume-ie’.

My love for graphic design started when I was 13, I had this Chromebook and started using free art programs like Deviantart Muro and SumoPaint (shout out to anyone who use those programs too,). The programs included brushes with paderns and stamps and using those I would make wallpapers and folder covers. As I got older I continued with other programs, including ibisPaint and Audodesk Sketchbook, and eventually ProCreate. I have experimented with Logos but my main love is wallpapers, journal and notebook covers, phone, tablet, and laptop cases, stickers, posters, and in general what ever I can put my designs on.

Overall my art is very colorful. I have a love for celestial themes; stars and galaxies, as well as the sky and sunsets. As well as nature themes especially flowers. I also use a lot of ornate swirls and mandalas. My favorite thing to do is recreating textures, mostly glitter and denim/fabric.

Outside of digital art, I also love textile arts; sewing, arts and crafts, knitting and crocheting, embroidery, jewelry making and more. I have been sewing since I was 12, continuing and improving as I got older, tho I mostly stick to smaller projects. I was big into jewelry making when I was 14 and still enjoy it to this day. I didn’t really start knitting/crocheting till I was 18/19 when I finally got the hang of it.

That’s all I have to say for now, I will start posting soon but I wanted to make this Intro for the new blog.

[elsfavor1te]

can you write hcs of ellie being a simp gf 🫶🏻

SO INLOVE

warnings: i don’t really know what to put here tbh.. cutesy fluff stuff. 18+ smut included. oral (r receiving). thigh riding (also r receiving).

this was super fun to write man. i loved it 10/10. 💕💕 thank you for the ask. this is technically the first smut i’ve ever written, if you’d even count this as smut. be kind. 🥲

—————

simpgf!ellie who always has to have her hands on you.

you could be doing something as simple as reading a book and she’s there, head on your stomach , hand trailing up under your shirt.

she loves to hold your hand too. just when you’re walking through jackson or when she’s between your thighs.

she has you spread open for her, one hand holding your thigh down. her tongue swirling around your clit occasionally sucking. she uses her free hand to hold yours when you’re about to cum, talking you through it.

“that’s it. good fuckin’ girl.”

simpgf!ellie who loves kissing you.

normally ellie isn’t one for pda but with you she doesn’t care. kissing you where ever and infront of whoever.

she doesn’t neglect kissing you when she’s upset either, sure she might grip your neck a little harder than necessary when she’s dragging your face to hers to place the kiss on your lips. never hard enough to hurt you though.

she doesn’t care if you’re wearing lipgloss either. you’d try and stop her reminding her how she doesn’t like the sticky feeling of it,

“baby, lipgloss. it’s gonna be on your lips.”

“i don’t care. kiss me.” she’d pout cutely until you finally did. standing patiently as you took your thumb and wiped the thin layer of gloss off of her lips.

sometimes when you’d wear the pretty colored lipstick you found on patrol and kissed her cheek, neck, forehead she wouldn’t let you wipe off the mark it left. telling you it’s your special way of claiming her, (even though everyone already knows she’s yours).

simpgf!ellie who loves waking up with you.

loving the messy bed head look you wake up with, your hair sticking up in all directions and mouth dry.

sometimes you would wake up to her trailing her fingers through your hair, separating tangles gently when she came across them.

other times when you’d wake before her she would have you locked in her arms. your legs tangled together and you trapped in her arms.

at first you feel safe, admiring her pretty face while she holds you. after awhile you’d try to wiggle out, whispering her name.

“els, i gotta pee…”

“shhh, m’sleeping”

eventually you’d wiggle enough and whine enough that she would let you go, urging you to go fast and come back.

on special mornings after you would both wake up you wouldn’t even make it out of the bed before your lips are crashing urgently. her thigh pushing up against your clothed center as you grind down, letting little moans slip into her mouth.

simpgf!ellie who helps you when you can’t sleep.

she would make you snacks if you said that’s what you needed to sleep.

she’d rub your back for hours if it got you to sleep easier, whispering reassurances as her hand drew little shapes on your back.

“i’ve got you…”

at first she was against it but once she saw how fast humming little songs would get you to sleep it’d be her go-to. humming to you everywhere. when you couldn’t sleep, when you were crying, when you just needed ellie to hold you.

simpgf!ellie who talks about you to everyone.

“dina,” she would try to keep a straight face but ultimately end up with the biggest grin on her face. “she found me a brand new case of colored pencils AND a new sketchbook for my birthday. we’re in an apocalypse man. how does she do it?”

dina would smile, happy ellie found her person. even happier that it was her bestfriend she found it in.

sometimes when she couldn’t contain herself she would even brag to jesse. “she did my hair like this for me when we woke up,” she gestures at the 2 braids leading into a little ponytail at the middle of her head, otherwise it’s her normal half up half down hairstyle. “bet dina doesn’t do your hair in the mornings.”

“what? of course she doesn’t, i don’t have enough hair for that- you’re such a fucking simp.”

“yup.” she grins cheekily. “so inlove with her.”

[carlyraejepsans]

hey, sorry for bothering you but i'm seriously considering starting to draw digitally (i have never drawn before except for when i was a little kid). i love your art so i was thinking if you would maybe give me some tips? about anything, really. like if i should at first just purely focus on the basis and nothing else, graphic program recommendations (preferably free or cheap ones since i'm not 100% sure if i'll actually keep drawing long-term), etc.

just anything that you think would be useful for me.

thank you a lot in advance

OOOH BOY where to start (｡・//ε//・｡)

it partly depends on whether you already know how to draw a little. I'm not saying you have to be good at it, but if you've already put some work into your traditional skillz it's going to help. oh also, if you do have some tradart background and you switch to digital? be prepared because with your first few drawings it's either going to be the best you've ever drawn or it's gonna feel like you're picking up a pencil for the first time in your life all over again. both of these stages are temporary, and generally settle on an equal middle ground in a few days, at least until your hand's gotten used to the medium

my FIRST chance at digital art? drawing with my finger on my phone. it's far from ideal, as you can probably guess, but it got the job done while i played around with the things only digital art could do. the next step, still on mobile devices, was getting one of those pens for writing on your phone. no pressure sensitivity, accuracy was still shite, but it did allow me to draw in a way that was more similar to how i drew traditionally. try to check if your device has compatibility with digital pen accessories, you might get one that's a bit more sophisticated than literally just a tube with a flat nib that works through normal touchscreen. i bought the sketchbook app back when it was still property of Autodesk. I haven't updated it since, so i have no idea how the new company is handling it, but it was a pretty solid app when i used it

if you already want to go full drawing tablet then DO NOT, for the love of god, DO NOT buy a screen tablet. i promise, drawing on a screenless one is in no way harder or more unnatural, you hand-eye coordination adapts to it very quickly. they're super cheap compared to screen tablets, more portable and better suited for a beginner. my first serius tablet was a wacom intuos back in the time when wacom partnered with clip studio paint, which was a DEAL because now i have a lifetime access to it despite having bought the tablet years ago and the PRO version of the program costing like 50 fucking dollars. definitely keep your eyes peeled if they do anything like that again because it's very much worth it, but if they don't you can also choose a cheaper brand. fuck wacom, go small corp.

for pc/laptop art programs your best bet in the open source scene is 100% krita. it has a couple of unique settings that make it weird to draw on for people who are used to "standard" professional art programs (which is the reason I don't go back to it anymore), but if you have no experience with any other art program, then absolutely go check it out, it won't be an issue. it's got a thriving community that keeps updating and adding stuff, so they're not gonna drop you off out of nowhere. as for the drawing itself? once again that's gonna depend on where in your art journey you are. it's been wayy too long for me to remember good videos for absolute beginners, but if you've got some of the bases down then proko and sinix design are some of the best teachers i can recommend wholeheartedly. i do have a couple more people on YouTube in mind, but I haven't seen their work in a while, so i wouldn't wanna risk sending you in the wrong direction.

one final tip that's worked out very well for me. y'know what's one of the best things you can watch? drawfee. animator vs cartoonist. pros animating in gartic phone. not only because karina and julia are the funniest motherfuckers on earth, but because seeing people's drawing process in real time (coupled with the sense of companionship of watching a group of friends have fun for your entertainment) actually puts you in the mindset to draw yourself and lets you study their work in a way that simply viewing the finished product never could.

trace trace trace, trace references, trace photos, trace art you like (but don't post it) and do it smartly ie try to figure out WHAT you're tracing, the shapes you're actually putting on paper and how they interact with one another and their environment. take your time, experiment with different techniques, take a break when you need to, watch your neck and back posture, draw from your your shoulders, not your wrist, those 30s "do this and this and this to draw this thing" style tutorials that don't explain the thought process behind those passages are a scam so fuck em, make mistakes make SO MANY MISTAKES, then learn from them, grow from them and make some more.

oh, and have fun, of course.

welcome to art :D

[nbrook29]

Lmao I don’t know how this happened 😆

***

June 26th 2021, Saturday

When Sander wakes up, it’s to the early morning June sunlight hitting him straight in the face. There’s a vague smell of alcohol lingering in the air, and he groans pitifully when he remembers the amount of beer he drank last night; well, it wasn’t that much per se, but for his not-usually-drinking self it was a bit much, which would explain the sour taste in his mouth. He could be beating himself up for letting a little too much loose and messing up his rather strict rules, but it’s finally summertime and he was feeling so happy and free. Exams are done and over with, bigger gatherings are allowed again, and most importantly, the love of his life has just graduated high school and-

Wait. 

He blinks his eyes open, arm reaching to the other side of the bed expecting a warm body, but it’s met with cold sheets instead. 

Where did that love of his life go? 

Bones cracking when he sits up on the bed, he rubs the sleep out of his eyes like a little boy, looking around the room, a twinge of worry in his mind. Robbe was way more drunk than him yesterday, being a giggly, inebriated, lovely, messy mess that was barely standing when the party came to an end. Sander had to practically carry him to their cabin, with Robbe wrapped like a koala around his back, holding tight as he mumbled love declarations into Sander’s hair until he fell asleep, arm looped around his head and cheek resting on top of it. It was unbearably cute, but it was also a miracle Sander’s legs didn’t give out because as small as Robbe is, carrying his dead weight on his back is a challenge.

For a second, a dark scenario enters his mind, and he’s working himself up over Robbe maybe getting up at some point to throw up and being so drunk he choked in the bathroom (yes, he’s a tad dramatic), but then a scrap of paper lying on the makeshift bedside table that is his backpack catches his sight and relief washes over him. 

It’s clearly torned out from his sketchbook and he smiles before he even reaches for it.

Come and find me when you wake up x

Little hearts were added all around for good measure and then there’s another message below.

P.S. You’re so fucking hot xxxxx

Snorting, Sander thinks back to yesterday’s afternoon when he showed up to pick Robbe up with his dad’s car so they could meet everyone in Ostend. The way his jaw dropped wide open seeing his brand new look makes him feel very smug at the mere memory.

Right next to the note there’s that piece of confetti he put in Robbe’s long hair at the party, his boyfriend blushing so prettily when Sander told him he couldn’t find a flower as beautiful as him around so the confetti had to do for the time being. 

That’s Sander’s favorite activity: pulling a blush out of him with his sappy lines. Well, maybe after getting lost in their out of this world kisses. Or making love to him, slow and sweet or fast and dirty, Sander’s not picky.

5 minutes and he’s out the door after the quickest shower of his life, minty fresh and ready for a quest to find his other half. It’s still very early, the clock showing a few minutes past eight, and to be honest, Sander wonders how on earth is Robbe up and about already. He was fully preparing for a morning full of Robbe’s moans (not the good kind), cursing him for letting him drink so much and swearing on his life that he’ll never touch alcohol again.

The beach is almost empty, barely a few people lounging on the sand, and it takes him no time to spot longish brown curls flying with the force of the wind. Robbe looks lost to the world around him, sitting cross-legged and leaning back onto his arms, face turned to the sun to catch the early morning rays. A soft smile is dancing on his lips as he takes in the sight of the calm sea stretching till the horizon to the sound of whatever is playing in his headphones (probably Bowie because Robbe has a Master’s degree in his music now, courtesy of Sander Driesen) and he looks the most relaxed Sander has seen him in weeks. He looks beautiful.

And Sander is so so in love with him it hurts.

The boy must’ve sensed his presence because he turns around just when he’s a few meters away, his smile growing wide at the sight of him, squinting a little and wow, how does he look so good after a night like that? Sander wonders whether it’s his lovesick devotion that makes him see Robbe through a filter or if sleep did its job marvellously this time.

“Hey, sleepyhead.” Robbe pulls at his jean jacket to sit him right next to himself and wastes no time before looping his arms around his neck, peppering his lips with good morning kisses.

“Hey, drunkie,” Sander teases once Robbe gets his fit, earning a half-hearted glare and a soft scoff.

“I was not that drunk.”

“You fell asleep on my head while I was carrying your butt to bed.”

“Well your head is very comfy,” Robbe states matter-of-factly, leaving no room for further discussion because he shuts up any snarky comment Sander may have had with another kiss. That’s a-okay with him, and he tangles his hand in Robbe’s gorgeous locks that he will worship till the day he dies, never missing an occasion to bury his fingers in the tangled strands. The other hand joins in the fun, tugging playfully at the earring he’s also a tiny bit too obsessed with and delighting in the high-pitched sound it pulls out of Robbe.

“What are you doing here so early? I thought you’d be dead to the world till at least noon.” Sander makes himself comfy in Robbe’s embrace, leaning against him and playing with Robbe’s long fingers that are resting on his stomach.

The boy huffs a quiet laugh, a warm puff of air tickling Sander’s neck. “I think it’s the sea breeze making me sober up quicker than normally,” he pauses, hand nudging lightly at Sander’s chin to make him lift his head back and meet his eyes, a soft smile on his lips as he continues. “That and also I think that I was less drunk on alcohol and more drunk on love.”

Sander may be the king of sappy lines, but Robbe has a few of his own up in his sleeve, and everytime he pulls one out, it makes him melt into a pile of goo. Sander crashes their lips together in a kiss that’s a little too heavy for a morning in a public space, but hey, they’re drunk on love and he doesn’t care, Robbe doesn’t care either, and there aren’t many people around them anyway so fuck it. He hums into the kiss, Robbe’s tongue grazing the roof of his mouth almost as by accident, and it’s so good, it always is.

“Last night, it felt so... life-changing, you know? And I don’t know why cause not that much is changing, really.”

“You’re graduating high school, it feels big.”

“Yeah, but I’m staying here for uni, I’m not moving or anything. I don’t know, I think I’ve been feeling a little nostalgic lately.” Robbe shrugs like he doesn’t really understand it, but doesn’t want to dwell on it either. There’s a small frown between his eyebrows though so Sander reaches to smooth it out with his thumb.

Then, something comes to his mind. “Maybe it’s because of us?”

Robbe’s frown gets deeper. “What do you mean?”

Sander turns around in his arms, nodding at the surroundings, voice laced with excitement. “You know this is the first time we have been at the beach since we met?”

Brown eyes blink at him in confusion, but then they light up and match Sander’s excitement.

“Oh my god, you’re right! Fuck, it feels like a different lifetime.”

A very miserable, shitty lifetime if you ask Sander. For both of them.

“I was so lonely back then,” Robbe sighs.

Sander notices a tiny shadow of sadness fogging Robbe’s eyes, like it always happens when he thinks back to that period of his life. Some wounds were cut too deep to fully heal, but Sander’s always there to bring him back to the present.

Tugging lightly on his hair to make him look back at him, Sander gives him a lopsided grin.

“Not gonna lie, I’m very pleased this time around the only person that’s allowed to kiss you is me.”

Robbe hums, a smirk brewing on his lips. “Hmm, I don’t know, I wouldn’t say no to a kiss from Jens I think.”

And Sander knows he’s doing it on purpose, absolutely loves to rile him up and play the “Jens” card when he wants to be snogged into submission. Robbe learned early on that even though Sander’s aware he’s just joking, his possessive streak always comes out in situations like this, making their kisses extra good and their sex extra hot.

“Careful now,” Sander breathes against his mouth, the pent up tension that accumulated last night and wasn’t relieved because Robbe was too drunk hitting him hard. It seems to be mutual because Robbe bites his lip seductively, impish smile letting Sander know that he’s getting the exact reaction he was hoping for.

“Or what?”

“Or I’m gonna carry you to bed the way I did last night, but the finale will be a little different.”

Suddenly, Robbe’s smile turns softer, the gear change leaving Sander a bit confused, but he welcomes it with a chuckle when Robbe snuggles close to him, nuzzling into his neck and letting out a content sigh.

“I love you so much,” he murmurs sweetly against his skin, breaking and healing Sander’s heart all at once. 

“I love you too, cutie. In elk universum.” 

A giggle erupts from Robbe at the universe line. “It’s been a while since you said that.”

Sander presses a kiss to his temple. “I think I'm feeling a bit nostalgic too.” 

***

The beach is slowly starting to fill out with people and bursting their little bubble so they get up reluctantly to the sounds of their grumbling stomachs that demand late breakfast. They notice their friends in the distance, spreading a huge blanket on the sand and carrying armfulls of food, and they walk over to them slowly, smiling goofily at each other and swaying their joined hands, paying no mind to people around. 

“Hey, Sander?” Robbe says suddenly.

“Yeah?”

“You’re gonna be dating a college boy now,” Robbe announces, and he sounds so proud and so adorable that Sander has to tease him a little.

He sighs, putting an extra edge of sorrow into it. “I think you’re getting too old for me, Robin.” A choked-off sound of pain follows, Robbe’s mellowy state not stopping him from jabbing his elbow in Sander’s ribs when he’s being a cheeky little shit. He should’ve known better by now - Robbe’s elbows are merciless. 

They arrive at the spot shoving each other playfully until Zoe yells at them to behave and sit their butts down like good boys to eat their food. They dig in without needing to be asked twice, their previous bickering forgotten as Robbe feeds him sandwiches, pretending they’re airplanes and making Sander and everyone around laugh hard.

This, today, yesterday, is a new memory. One that wipes away the angst he used to associate sea and beach with after enviously watching Robbe in the arms of someone else. 

This time, Robbe’s smiles are directed at him, his eyes are constantly seeking out him, hand slides surreptitiously into his hand, and Sander’s heart is bursting with happiness.

They’re going on a roadtrip this summer, just him and his favorite skater boy, and Sander cannot fucking wait. Just like he can’t wait for their future together.

And if there’s a ring sitting in his bottom drawer nobody needs to know for now. 

Robbe will find out in 55 days.

[huguswerescared]

Alright so I was gonna draw the whole thing but I didn't feel like it so I'm putting my fanfic skills to use, this reads kinda like a script that is purposeful and this is not the script I originally wrote, The orange guy (Simon) is an oc that belongs to @deadarsonist (aka my best friend and kinda co-owner of this blog?) And Ti (the pillow) belongs to me, anyways enjoy reading!

The trio stepped out of the car to look at their new house, before long they began moving their things in, Duck rambled about where to put his shredder and needing to check everything with his clipboard, Red remains blank about everything while Yellow smiled happy to finally have his own room, an orange guy named Simon trailing behind with a box under his arm as his crouches crunched against the gravel on the ground.

Red sets up a blue clock with a face painted onto it, he got it as a birthday gift a few years back from a former colleague, while Duck struggled to set up the computer, grumbling about how it was disrespecting him by not turning on meanwhile Yellow joyfully got out his crayons and a brand-new sketchbook he had gotten and sat it on the kitchen table to doodle, and finally, our orange guy who's name is Simon sets up his bed tossing a lavender colored pillow onto his bed before going down to the kitchen to grab a snack.

The trio sits down for lunch as Simon disappears into the kitchen being chosen to be the group's chef of the day, the trio waits in silence until the sketchbook pops up, sprouting arms and legs as she asks everyone what their favorite idea is, within seconds they spell out their favorite colors in sticks, see shapes in the clouds, Yellow's clown gets inked before getting creative and rolling a heart in glitter, cutting into a gut filled cake before orange eats it, spelling out death in ink (?), A minute passes before a voice pops pop with a

"Let's all agree to never be creative again."

The sketchbook blinks as the trio stares at each other in pure shock, Simon nowhere to be seen, "Sorry about your clown, it was well drawn.." She says seemingly remorseful before hopping off the table and disappearing into the other room, the trio look at each other.

"Let's not talk about this again."

"You you rolled a heart in glitter."

"Hush."

Red and yellow speak breaking the silence as Duck remains silent staring at the two.

The trio sat in infront of their newly set up tv waiting for their show to begin as they chatter about not having enough time until their show,

The Clock hops off the wall, sprouting arms and legs like the sketchbook as he begins talking about time, his song flashes by within minutes, their eyes now wide as they had just gone through history, aged and de-aged, the Clock stared at his hands for a moment confused before giving a brief apology and wandering into the kitchen passing by Simon carrying a comically large bowl of popcorn as he sits down in his seat not minding his traumatized housemates, eyes immediately on the tv as their show begins to play.

The group of four are scattered about on a picnic blanket, Red and Duck chatter about how much of a lovely day it is while Simon stares at the basket as Duck opens it to reveal raw chicken, he kills a flying bee causing Yellow to let out a wailing cry and run off leaving the three.

Yellow sits on a tree, and encounter's a questionable alien-looking butterfly who immediately starts gaslighting him, and drags him off to meet his cult while singing about love, Red and Duck point out their friend floating away before deciding to eat the chicken first,

the orange puppet already devouring his share of chicken before wandering off and wandering into the cult.

He looks around as the cult vaguely reminds him of something he can't recall, he steps in right before the weird-colored butterfly can drop the large ring on Yellow and assumingly marry him to the pink-haired gal and have him join the cult, the orange guy bit the butterfly's wing causing it to attempt to wrangle him off by flapping his wings as the cult members attempted to help, Yellow ran off meeting up with the other two, leaving the cult and his friend (?) Behind.

The group sat around a table playing a board game, within a few seconds of wondering something they all immediately stared at a globe behind them waiting for it to come alive only for when it finally came alive the computer behind them began singing before spawning arms and legs, his voice glitching (?) as he sang before long the screen glitched before everyone appeared online, Yellow was fixated on pie charts and other things while Duck focused on digital style, Red watched getting more concerned by the moment until Simon whacked the computer with one of his crouches causing it to scream and pass out onto the ground, he looked at the passed out computer before muttering something about it giving him a headache and walking himself out of the room leaving the trio.

Duck and Yellow sat at the table -

NO NO, WE ARE NOT DOING THIS PART, YOU HEAR ME? WE ARE NOT KILLING ANYONE IT'S MY AU I WANT THEM TO BE SLIGHTLY LESS TRAUMATIZED AND ALIVE, YOU HEAR ME? ALIVE!

I CAN DO- HEY DON'T CUT ME OFF HEY, HEY HE-

(The screen is filled with a black goop curtsy of Sketchbook, a few holes show the horrors behind it, The orange dude is seen chewing on duck.)

The trio sit at the table, their eyes red and tired with the inanimate objects talking and cooking in the background, the Clock is for some reason drinking coffee while the Sketchbook is attempting to make eggs as the Computer is spouting out recipes for breakfast.

Yellow yawns causing Duck to yawn causing red to yawn, Duck makes a comment about not being able to sleep after that incident, the other two nod,

"Yeah I don't sleep well either, it's fine sleep isn't that important anyways." The orange guy says cradling a lavender pillow in his arm he sat his crouches to the side as he sat down,

"Yeah, I reckon you're probably right." Red mumbles, within a few moments the pillow immediately pipes up sprouting arms, legs, and a nightcap

"What do you mean sleep isn't important?!" Simon immediately yeets the pillow across the room, the pillow slams into the wall beside the clock who asks if she's okay, the pillow gives a thumbs up before immediately going back to the table, and starts with "Sleep is plenty important! How else would you grow big and uh strong?" She begins singing while flexing her small arms the song flashes by.

With the benefits of sleeping now known to everyone, Yellow immediately fell asleep however the other three remained awake and refused to sleep causing the pillow to lose her temper and pull out a slightly smaller not alive pillow and held it against everyone's faces until they passed out, the pillow yawned before hopping off of the orange dude who was sprawled out on the ground being the last to fall victim to the pillows sleep rampage,

She tossed her mini pillow off to the side and wandered off into the kitchen where the other alive objects were still cooking, she introduced herself as Ti (Short for Ativan) to the rest of the objects who are mildly disturbed by her actions but introduce themselves in return since they've both seen and done worse.

[idle-compy]

alright!! here's my random thoughts I put down while watching season 4!!

*MAJOR SPOILERS BELOW**

BROOKLYNN HAS 2 DADS

aw yaz drew something for sammy :')

kenji bud how do you not know what a screw driver is

NOT THE HORIFYING PAINTINGS OF TIFF AND MITCH

poor ben and his bad motivational speech

yaz and sammy being gfs I live

this sandstorm scene is beautiful

bens definitely blaming himself for their current situation :(

now he's having a small breakdown :((

CAMPFIRE SCENE

group scream therapy nice

THAT CUT FROM SCREAMING TO SLEEPING

SABRE TOOTH

oh and now bens sacrificing himself

"maybe now.. you're finally just ben" I'm crying

I already like dr. turner

suspicious sandwiches

yaz being a terrible wingman is so funny

ROBO DOG

or B.R.A.D.

robo dogs easier

OH IT KILLED THE STOWAWAY COMPY RIP

it talks???

kenji killed the robo dog rip

MANTAH CORP

theyre keeping secrets from mae turner

NO BEN THOUGHT YAZ LIKED HIM IM SCREAMING

not her just going along with him turning her down I'm screaming

this whole ep is so awkward

yeah mae you go behind mantah corp's backs

angry man

howd he break a screen with a fidget spinner

yaz's sketchbook?? a drawing of her mom!!

INDOMINUS?? SCORPIOS?? this gotta be a dream

yep

oh no yaz's trauma is catching up

oop kenjis catching a cold

this is the most accurate description of a tickle in your throat I've ever scene kenji is STRUGGLING

I feel so bad for yaz :(

attack of the robo dogs

aw sammy's never seen snow before she's so happy :))

sad cold dino

oh no they missed the plane

yaz is having a mental breakdown :((

this is so painful to watch

angry man is back

kash I think?

KASH KILLED A ROBO DOG

aw ben misses bumpy :(

sammy comforting yaz to help her sleep my heart <33

poor little edie she's hurt so bad :((

darius made a dino friend!!

uh oh sammy recognizes kash

SAMMY HAS A SECRET??

ooh she's ANGRY

oh now she's crying and angry

she ran off

KASH JUST CASUALLY TRYING TO MURDER MAE??

now ben killed a robo dog

now darius killed a robo dog

uh oh mae is injured

OH LIKE SERIOUSLY INJURED GIRL IS BLEEDING

now a raptor killed a robo dog

SAMMY ATTACKING THE RAPTORS USING THE BRAD SHOCKY THINGS

kash has a phone

oh ben saw it too

big edie mad

bens a doctor now

OH MAE PUNCHED HIM RIP

"youre not gonna punch me again are you?" "no" *punches ben*

this man's so evil like what

where tf did ben get a carob bar

oh no yaz is having a panic attack

oh now yaz killed a robo dog

YEAH THEY BLEW SOMETHING UP

DARIUS SOLO MISSION

the music played behind darius' big decision was beautiful

OH NO HES ABANDONING THE DINOS FOR THE PHONE

NO KASH CAUGHT HIM

he called brand

DARIUS CALLED BRAND IM CRYING

BRAND KNOWS HES ALIVE AKSJDJFJ

darius why are you telling this man all of the facts

oh he pulled out the sob story

DARIUS GOT KIDNAPPED

wow he's a terrible actor

oop kash throwing a tantrum

SPINO

rip sabre tooth

darius playing the little evil henchmen is adorable

BRANDS GOING OUT TO FIND DARIUS?? BRAND SUB PLOT??

oop a giant robot tried to blow up darius um

"I may have seen one or two of your videos" yaz is a brooklander comfirmed

KASH WANTS TO DO MIND CONTROL??

brooklynn's turn for a breakdown

BROOKLYNN HACKED ONE OF THE BRAD X'S YOU GO GIRL

brooklynn accepted she can just be herself on her vlog and stop caring so much about likes :')

NO NOT THE BABIES

the DNA sammy took in s1 helped create the new little baby hybrids

aw she feels bad :(

brooklynn just telling her awkward little story in baby talk

CERATOSAURUS

bens afraid of getting attached to another dino:(

well too late you're already attached

KASH FIGURED OUT THE MIND CONTROL NO

baby dino is in so much pain :((

ben has trauma from the pteranodons :((

another angry man tantrum

NOT THE CUT TO BUMPY SHES SO SAD

there's a single clip where kenji doesn't have the beard it's glorious

ope kenji/brook is canon

so his name is benjamin

DARIUS HASNT SEEN ESTHER STONE

GIRLS STOP FIGHTING

they wrecked the snow machine

sammy's breakdown

oh she's mad at yaz :(

ok the "brooklynn's my gf" reveal to darius is insanely funny

I love the weird dynamic between ben and mae

bens going on a robo dog murder spree

HES SO VIOLENT

OMG OMF OMGG

DILOPHOSAURUS

kenjis dad

KENJIS DAD IS THE HEAD OF MANTAH CORP IM SCREAMJNG

AKSKFHKFJ

[transgenderknothead]

I know I've been gone for like ever, but I was working on something super cool, so without further adieu... I Want the Truth a creepy pasta fanfiction just under 2k words!

Truth is undefinable, yes it has a definition, not lying, but how do you determine what’s a lie and what isn’t? It’s difficult, especially when you get different answers from the same person. My mother always tells me I have no memory due to various different accidents. First she said car crash, then she said nearly drowned, then it was kidnapped, her current story is that I had been in a coma for most of my life due to a birth defect. When I ask why her story keeps changing she says she isn’t quite sure what is causing my memory loss, as all of those things happened. My friends and I were hanging out at the old children’s mental hospital, it had burned down about four years ago and ever since my friends and I would go and try to figure out why and how it had burned. So far we had found nothing, nothing that was in one piece anyway, we had found three shattered skull fragments and a lot of broken wood. We’d searched all over the building, except for one room, which we could never open. It was a metal door, that when we tried using axes, hatchets, and even random pieces of wood nearby, they fell apart before even reaching it. We have no idea what’s on the other side, but it feels important, and because my friends are stubborn, we will never stop trying to open it or get inside. “Again!” Toby, my boyfriend, yelled when the head of his metal axe fell off when it made contact with the door. “At least this time we hit it,” I rubbed his shoulder as he slumped, “and it looks like you even dented it.” “If his noodle arms dented it, imagine what I could’ve done,” his athletic twin brother, Evan, flexed. “I don’t know, why don’t ya punch it, see what happens,” Toby argued. “Would you two knock it off,” their 14 year old little sister Jessy rolled her eyes, “what did Mom and Dad say about you arguing all the time?” Toby rolled his eyes, a tiny smile appearing when we made eye contact. “We should head back,” I piped up a little. Back at the house Toby and I went into his room, separated from his twin by a curtain, the tall boy flopping onto his bed. “Are you okay?” I rubbed his back. “Something about that room just,” he rolled over, pulling me with him, “I don’t know, it makes no sense.” “What is it?” “It gives me a weird gut feeling,” he scratched my back lightly, “like something bad is behind it.” I had woken up in the middle of the night, bolting up in bed next to Toby. It was always the same nightmare. I’m sitting in a pitch black room, a fuzzy figure of a purple, pink, blue, and yellow jester with a hammer sitting in front of me. It seemed like it was trying to communicate with me, but I couldn’t hear, or even see, much of it. The next morning we all headed over to the mental hospital again. Toby, having hurt his hand playing guitar last night, was going to let me try opening the door with his brand new axe. So here we stood, axe held over my head, everyone else standing back. When I swung the door flew open and the axe hit the floor instead. “Um, to whichever deity is out there, please help,” Jessy whimpered. I walked in, it looked as though this room had the worst of it. An entire wall caved in, shattered glass everywhere, all of the furniture destroyed. The walls that were left standing had what was very obviously scratch marks from whatever child was in here. “Holy,” I whispered, spinning around to look at the room. I kept looking around until I saw the bed in the corner, it was rusted and broken to no end, but that isn’t what caught my attention. It was the seemingly untouched blue bunny stuffed animal holding a very broken, but unburned, Jack-in-the-Box. I reached for it instinctively, but Toby grabbed my wrist. “Don’t,” he whispered. “I just want to know,” I grabbed the toys, inspecting them, before dropping them and gasping. I slowly picked them back up, and cradled the bunny, who was now missing an eye. “What is it?” Evan stood in the doorway, very obviously too scared to enter the room fully. “My name,” I whispered, just loud enough

to hear, “it’s on both of these.” I twisted the toys to show the red stitched name on the bunny and the carved name on the box. “Oh god,” Jessy whispered. I clutched the toys to my chest and started running back. “WAIT!” Toby called. “I have to know, I need to know the truth about my memory, and the truth about these!” I yelled when he caught up to me, he let go and let me run. “Whoa, slow down kid, where’s the fire,” my mom jokes. “What’s this,” I held up the toys and her face went pale, “don’t even think about lying, I want the truth this time.” “They were a couple of toys your childhood friend’s gave you before they left,” she replied. “Okay, new question,” I stood up straighter, “why were they in the mental hospital?” She gasped and dropped her tea cup. She smiled, looking at me, and a tear rolled down her cheek. “Mom, why can’t I remember anything? Don’t give me a story like you do every time.” “You still believed in imaginary friends,” she cried, “you were twelve, that’s not normal for a 12 year old kid! I had to do something to make you realize they were fake!” “So putting me in a hospital and drugging me into forgetting was your grand solution?” I yelled. “You don’t understand,” she started. “You’re right, I don’t understand, but what I do understand is that I’m not the type of person to believe something I haven’t seen, or hasn’t been proved to me,” I crossed my arms, knowing what I had to do. “Don’t do anything stupid,” my boyfriend spoke when they finally caught up. “I have to know,” I spoke before turning around, taking the toys with me, and running into the woods. I ran for a long time, a couple of memories coming back to me. Playing with a tall stuffed clown, a tall red headed man with long hair and wearing a feathery jacket handing me the blue bunny, setting the fire in the hospital. Eventually, I ran up to a familiar metal gate that led to a run down carnival. I opened the gate and it creaked. My heart was pounding in my chest as I clutched the bunny tighter to my chest, the Jack-in-the-Box in my hoodie pocket. I heard a twig snap by the merry go round, causing me to run into the hall of mirrors. I fell against a wall trying to stop myself from crying. “Oh Gumdrop,” a singsong voice came from the entrance. I hid farther into the dark corner, “you don’t need to hide, we’re friends!” I watched the black and white clown look around the room, his hands on his hips. His eyes meet mine, he smiles wider and gets closer. “Jack!” A voice laughed from behind him, the jester from my dreams stepped forward. “It’s her!” Jack pointed, and the jester looked my way. “I’ve been tryna reach ya,” he pulled me out of the dark, “but ya never heard me!” “I’m sorry,” I whimpered, his grip wasn’t tight, but I could tell neither of them were human. “Don’t be sorry! It aint your fault!” The jester giggled, pulling me out of the hall of mirrors and into the big tent, where three more inhuman entities were talking and working. One was a shorter man with black hair, a sketch pad, blue jacket, and a white mask with a red smile sitting next to him. Next to him was a more average height man with dark grey skiing, all black clothes, golden eyes, and what looked like a puppet hanging from golden strands of light coming from his fingers. Across from him was a very tall white haired man dressed like a magician and holding a wand. “There you are,” the man with the sketch book said. “We’ve been waiting for you to come back,” the grey man next to him continued. “She doesn’t remember us,” the magician looked at me. “I’m sorry,” I murmured. “Don’t apologize!” The jester rolled his eyes, “we’ll just reintroduce you!” “I’m Laughing Jack!” Jack spoke, “you used to call me L.J. for short!” “This is Puppeteer, who you called Pup,” the man with the sketchbook pointed at the man with the puppet. “This is Helen,” Puppeteer smiled, pointing at the one with the sketchbook. “I’m Papa El De Grande,”

the magician spoke, “you always called me Mr. Magic.” “I’m Candy Pop!” the jester tickled my sides, “you called me Pop.” “Where’s Jason?” L.J. looked around. “His workshop, fixing Mr. Bun Bun,” Puppeteer said, “it’d be best if she went alone.” Puppeteer took me over to a red and white tent near the big one. He told me to just go in, and that he’s never been mad when I was around because he never wanted to scare me away. “Jason?” I poked my head in, and was greeted by a big stuffed purple worm covered in patches. “Glutton!” A voice yelled from farther into the tent, “get over here!” I followed as the worm snaked towards a redhead man with golden eyes, putting an eye on the rabbit that I had come here with. “Jason?” He looked up at the calling of his name, smiling gently when he saw it was me. “It’s been a long time, Dolly,” he handed me the bunny, standing up he towered over me, “come on, let’s go for a walk.” During the walk he answered all of my questions that my mother refused to answer. He caught me up on all of the missing details of the past. And eventually led me back to the front gate. “It’s nearly time for you to get home,” pat my head. “Remember to just wind up the jack in the box when you want to see me!” Jack waved. “I’ll visit ya in your dreams again tonight, maybe now you’ll be able to hear me!” Candy Pop laughed. “Come back tomorrow,” Helen waved from his seat on the stairs of the merry-go-round. “Oh my god,” a voice came from behind me, my mother had her hand over her mouth as she glanced over the people I had spent my childhood with. “I was right, Mom,” I whispered. “Jason?” She whispered the name of the man who was trying to get away. “Yes?” He turned around slowly to look at my mother. “Oh my god,” she whispered, “Jason Meyers.” I looked at my mother at the use of our last name. Jason lowered his head. “Mom?” “You have been spending time with the spirit of your father, and I took that away,” her hand went over her heart, “oh, I am so sorry dear.” “Wait, Mom I didn’t even know,” I stuttered. “I needed to protect you from the things you weren’t ready to know,” he ushered us out, “now come back tomorrow, it’s getting late.” “We have to take your boyfriend to meet them tomorrow,” my mother spoke, causing Jason to look up, his eyes suddenly glowing green and his hair slowly turning white. “Okay,” Jack clapped his hands, his smile gone, “I think it’s time for bed.”

[unmaskedagain]

Oh Lady Luck (How I miss you so!)

Okay; first off. I hated this. I had a massive case of writer’s block while doing it and lost inspiration near the end.

Oh Lady Luck (How I miss you so!)

           Bustier’s class was the luckiest in school, everyone knew it. They got to go on the most amazing trips, win contest after contest, competition after competition, met all sorts of celebrities, frequently got to meet Ladybug, through the best dances and school plays, and always seemed to have a pep in their step. Anything any of the students went after they always managed to get. Everyone knew Bustier’s class was the luckiest in school. Then one day that changed dramatically.

“You’ve changed,” Alya accused Marinette after the class voted her out as Class president. “You become a bully.”

           Alix snorted, “More like a jealous bitch.”

           There were nods from the other students in class. Lila smiled at Marinette; happy that her promise to ruin the girl was coming true.

“You’re always so mean to Lila,” Rose added. “It’s not nice.”

“You’re worse than Chloe now,” Kim glared.

           Juleka frowned, “We miss the old Marinette.”

“You should’ve chilled out like I told you to, dudette,” Nino said with a shake of his head, clearly disappointed.

“We can’t be your friends anymore,” Alya crossed her arms.

           Marinette had listen to them quietly as they relayed reason after reason why they were ending their friendships with her; all to do with Lila. She didn’t bother to look at Adrien. He had warned her what was going to happen; Nino had told him. There had also been a group text apparently. Adrien made it clear he stood with Marinette. Even more so, when he chose to sit with her in the back of the class, a fierce glare on his face at the other students.

The bluenette placed down her pencil, closed her sketchbook and said, “Fine. Then we’re not friends anymore.”

“That’s counts double for me,” Adrien hissed. “Lose my number. In fact, don’t bother; I’ll just change it. That goes for every last one of you. I’ll be informing my Father and Nathalie that only Chloe and Marinette are on my visitors list.”

           The class blinked in shock. Not expecting that reaction from the blond boy who was usually so amicable and nice.

           Chloe watched with amused eyes. She had been sentenced to the back of the room not long after Marinette. “We’ve never been friends but consider all extra little perks you’ve gotten used to: dead and over with.”

           That was it. None of the other students knew what to say or do. They hadn’t gotten the reaction they expected. Marinette didn’t seem to care. Adrien seemed ready to set them on fire. Chloe looked rather pleased at the idea of seeing them burn. Most shrugged it off; figuring at least two of the three (Marinette and Adrien) would come crawling back in no time.

           They didn’t.

           Things started to change for the students in Bustier’s class the next day.

           Lila woke up in the morning to an email confirming that she would no longer being a model or any type of employee for the Gabriel Agreste brand. Or as Nathalie put it when the sausage hair girl called her, “We will no longer be needing your services, Miss Rossi. Do not contact us again.” Click.

           That was when Lila realized her plan of using Gabriel to get Adrien under her thumb had went up in flames. She hoped that Adrien wasn’t informed so that maybe she could still use his father as a threat against the boy.

           When she go to class, the blond model sent her a vicious smirk. Lila paled. She knew without a doubt that Adrien didn’t just know Lila was fired, he was the one got her fired.

           Nino woke up to the news that the gig he was due to play, his big break, had replaced him. It would’ve been huge for his career.

Oh well, he thought, back to DJ-ing for birthday parties.

           Alya accidently dropped her phone in the toilet; ruining hundreds of videos and pictures for the Ladyblog.

           Alix took a dive while skating; broke her ankle and the watch her dad gave her.

           Max broke his glasses.

           Kim got food poisoning.

           Ivan’s dad ran over his drum set while parking in the garage.

           Rose tried to call Prince Ali and found out he changed his number.

           Nathaniel spilled coffee all over his Ladybug comic strips. Marc had been pissed.

           Juleka’s mom accidently put bleach in with a load of her laundry; it ruined everything.

           By the time they had all got to class, all the students were in a terrible mood. However, when Marinette walked in with a box full of delicious smelling breakfast pastries; they perked up. The bluenette always seemed to know when they needed a pick me up. And there was nothing like a treat from the Dupain-Cheng Bakery.

           Marinette didn’t acknowledge any of their presences. She walked straight to the back of the classroom, sat in her seat between Chloe and Adrien. “Morning!” She beamed at her friends. “I brought treats for the three of us.”

“Awesome!” Adrien smiled, quickly opening the box and snagging a chocolate croissant. “Delicous, Thank you” He said. Or least they thought he said that. His mouth was full and it was mostly garbled.

           Chloe rolled her eyes. She grabbed a mixed berries and cream cheese pastry, “Perfect way to start the day. Thank you, Marinette.”

           Marinette took out her favorite: a berry and jasmine scone. Then she promptly through the box away; making clear that she hadn’t brought any for anyone else. “Anything for my friends.”

“We’ll do lunch at Le Grand Paris,” Chloe said. “On me of course. The chef there is to die for.”

           The other students visibly wilted. Alya in particular who loved going to Le Grand Paris as her mother was the head chef.

           It all went downhill from there.

           Over the next week things went from bad to worse for the students.

           Bustier told the class their trip the Presidential office was cancelled due to an unexpected flooding incident. The plan had been for the class to tour the office and have amazing picnic on the beach afterwards

           Lila’s mother, who had been busy nearly 24/7, officially went on vacation, meaning she plenty of time to spend with her daughter. Her daughter was panicked when her mother inquired about visiting her school.

           Alya discovered that the hits to her site had started to declined dramatically. She didn’t have time to worry about that as her internship with a local new studio had been cancelled; something about realizing Alya didn’t have enough experience. So her summer plans were cancelled.

           Nino’s Dj equipment sparked or shorted out or something but nothing would work anymore. He had cancel the rest of his gigs until he could buy new ones.

           Kim lost a swim match against Ondine.

           Markov got a virus and broke down causing Max to break down in tears.

           Nathaniel lost the expensive sketch pencil he won in a contest.

           Alix’s grandmother brought her a new dresses; frilly monstrosities that Alix’s forced her to wear to school for the entire week.

           Rose, Ivan, and Juleka were heartbroken when Luka announced he was going Solo.

           It didn’t help anyone’s mood that every day Marinette, Chloe, and Adrien walked into class with big smiles on their faces and pleasantly discussed their amazing plans.

           On Wednesday, Adrien invited Marinette and Chloe to come with him to meet the Prime Minister.

           Apparently, Adrien’s dad had called in favors so the three would tour Palais Bourbon, where the French Parliament meets.

“He said I could invite all my friends!” Adrien smiled.

           Marinette had been shocked at this. Until Adrien explained that his aunt had threatened to reveal to the world Gabriel Agreste’s neglectful behavior, his tendency break child labor laws, and his need to isolate Adrien. Thanks to his aunt, Adrien had a much free-er schedule and Gabriel had been in therapy for weeks. “I’ll bring food from the bakery. We can have a picnic!”

“Beach day!” Chloe cheered.

           No one else so much as smiled at the news. Even more so when pictures surfaced on Friday of Marinette, Chloe, Adrien, Ondine, Marc, Mireille, and Aurore with various members of Parliament; including the prime minister.

           Thursday, Chloe loudly invited Marinette and Adrien to an event for her mother, “It’s a fashion show! It’s tonight. Adrien can relax behind the scenes, while Mari and me model on the run way. Mama’s lost a few models so I told her I could recommend a few friends.”

“I’m modeling!” Marinette paled so much, her friends were sure she’d pass out.

“I get to do nothing!” Adrien grinned.

           Pictures of Chloe and Marinette modeling exploded across the internet; multiple fashion websites and online magazines deeming the girls’ Style Queen’s secret weapon and modeling next big thing.

           Most of the guys in class shrugged it off. But a few of the girls turned greened with envy; Lila in particular.

           On Friday, Marinette invited Adrien and Chloe to meet her uncle and her cousin, “He’s back in town on Saturday and he wants to meet all my friends.”

           No one else in class paid too much to that. Who cared about Marinette’s uncle? Or her cousin? They were probably just as stuck-up and nasty as she was.

           Then on Saturday, picture of the same group who went to Parliament, plus Luka, with Jagged Stone and Clara Nightingale started trending on the internet. Jagged Stone posted a tweet about how awesome his honorary niece was, with a picture of him and Marinette. Clara posted a pic with her favorite little cousin, Marinette.

           Alya couldn’t believe her eyes and immediately started texting Marinette for the deets. She received a text back saying; new number; who dis?

           Nino flat-out called Adrien only hear that the number had been disconnected.

           The rest of the class faced the same issue.

           And then one by one, they each remembered that they weren’t friends with any of the tree Ostracized students anymore.

           Monday, Alya found out that BugOut, a competing Ladybug blog, had been officially endorsed by Ladybug and Chat Noir. Something that hadn’t happened with the Ladyblog.

           Max lost the science fair. For the first time. He had to go see the school guidance counselor.

           Kim got kicked off the team for his poor grade.

           Lila’s finally called the school to schedule an appointment. Lila was Akumatized within the five minutes.

           Alix’s grandma brought her more clothes; some which were tacky sweaters with cats all over them

           Nathaniel misplaced his new sketch book, with his redone Ladybug comic strips. He never found it. Marc wasn’t happy.

           Nino got a call to dj a huge event only to have to decline as he hadn’t bought new equipment yet.

           It was Adrien that brought in breakfast for the other two; Mcdonalds. Much to the Chloe and Marinette’s dismay, but they didn’t say anything as the boy was clearly happy about being allowed to eat it for the first time.

           Marinette unwrapped her sausage Mcgriddle, wondering who she hurt in a past life, “Jagged is doing a private concert. You two want to come?”

           Adrien nodded, his mouth full of fried hash brown and bacon. “Count me in,” They think he said.

           Chloe held the egg mcmuffin in her hand like it was physically hurting her to do so, “I’m in,” she said. “And I’m bringing breakfast tomorrow.”

           The class was dismayed at missing at meeting Jagged Stone again.

“Are you going to invite us?” Alya asked with a huff.

           Marinette didn’t even look in her direction, “Sorry Uncle Jagged said I can only invite my friends.”

           Ouch.

           Over the course of the next few months, things continued to fall apart for the class. They tried planning one of their usual amazing dances, only for everything to crash and burn. Then they remembered that Marinette planned everything, and before her, Chloe.

           The class never made enough money fundraising so nearly all planned class trips were canceled.

           They had to deal with seeing pictures of Marinette, Adrien, and Chloe and all their friends meeting all sorts of celebrities.

           Ladybug disowned the Ladyblog; causing Alya to burst into tears.

           No matter what any of the students tried, did, competed in, they never won. They practically failed at everything.

           Rose tried to bake cookies for the class; her kitchen caught on fire.

           Max applied for science camp; all spots were full.

           Nathaniel who had lost his comic drawing for the twelfth time in a row was finally told by Marc to take a hike.

           Nino lost his hat, broke his glasses, a dog at his homework, and he tripped landed face down in the mud; all on the way to school one morning.

           The students were constantly late, frustrated, and always seemed to have something accidently spilled or thrown on their clothes.

           Lila’s  mother, who finally decided to just randomly drop by the school after being told repeatedly by her daughter that it was closed so she couldn’t do the appointment for months, was shocked to say the least when it was clearly opened and active. She had a long talk with the Principle and all of Lila’s lies were revealed to class.

           Class was very apologetic to the three ostracized students after that but it didn’t matter. The three made it clear they weren’t interested in renewing their friendships.

           By the end of the year Bustier’s class went from the luckiest in school to the unluckiest kids on the planet.

           The students of Bustier’s class couldn’t help but wonder aloud why they lucked changed do much.

           Tikki, Plagg, and Pollen, hidden away in their chosens’ school bags just smirked.

[olivia-anderson-fanfic]

A Miraculous TikTok Account

Part 11

First

Previous

Next

Rena was running out of time.

(To make TikToks. She wasn’t dying for anything except content.)

She’d figured that she would do Q&A type things, it was close enough to the content she’d used to make but far enough away that no one would suspect anything about her identity. It was perfect!

But the other heroes were… let’s say ‘less than eager’ to divulge much information to her. Especially not when they were being filmed.

Ladybug had pulled her aside one day to explain why.

“Rena…” She reached out and gently rested a hand on her shoulder.

Rena knew what that meant, she’d gotten it enough back when she was just a civilian. For just a second, she was thrown back to the first time one of her family members had died, to the way she had promised that she wouldn’t come back until she had her sister safely in her arms...

But she knew that it couldn’t be like that. Ladybug didn’t know who she was just like Rena didn’t know her identity. It was nothing that serious.

“We can’t give much information to the public. Hawkmoth could be watching.”

A fair point. It hurt, though.

She crossed her arms over her chest. “So we don’t show him our weaknesses, it’s not that hard.”

“We have to assume any information could be used against us.”

Rena frowned. “By that logic we can’t upload any content…?”

“We can’t upload any content of substance, no. Messing around in a store is fine. Videos of animals are fine. Anything beyond that is… potentially problematic.”

The idea of style over substance was foreign to the hero. Her whole brand used to be substance over style, done with a phone camera but close enough to fights for people to actually get a glimpse of the heroes in action. What was she supposed to do?

“What’s your niche, then?” Said Rena, hoping to get an idea.

“I was going to do some videos on mental and physical wellness.”

Yeah, no. That was a very ‘Ladybug’ thing to do, Rena probably couldn’t encroach on that in any way. But… what else was there?

Ladybug opened her mouth like she was about to say something, and then she shook her head and disappeared to her room.

Rena watched her leave in silence, and then fell back on the couch. She rested her hands over her eyes, something that was very uncomfortable due to the weird fabric of the mask on her face, and tried to think.

Ladybug had been fair. They already had enough of a gap between the information Hawkmoth had versus the amount they did, they shouldn’t make that worse… but then what was the point of them doing social media accounts?

And, she mused, why hadn’t Ladybug just told Master Fu her concerns?

Something wasn’t adding up, but she didn’t exactly know what.

The reporter in her was itching to find out. She didn’t want to invade Ladybug’s privacy, especially not when the other already seemed wary enough around her, but it was hard to just let go…

So, what could she do?

~

She grumbled as she went to Carapace’s room, not even bothering to knock as she walked in. It wouldn’t matter if she did, her miraculous made it so that most people’s eyes and ears slid right over her unless she actively worked to get them to notice her.

He was in his hero costume, though that wasn’t surprising considering he’d gotten back from patrols only a few minutes ago.

Carapace jumped a little in surprise when she came to a stop by his desk and looked up from where he was booting up his computer.

“Salut?” He said slowly.

“Salut! I need help.”

He raised his eyebrows a little and then shrugged. With a tiny wave of his hand, a second chair made of a bunch of different plates appeared behind her.

She took a seat and crossed her legs. “Everyone talks to you, right?”

“I guess…?”

“So do you know what everyone’s doing for their TikTok accounts?”

“I’m going to get footage of us acting friendly, Chat is filming animals he sees on patrols, Ladybug is ‘promoting mental and physical wellness’, and Chloe…” He sucked in a breath. “I don’t know what Chloe’s doing, but she started laughing maniacally when I asked so I’m not eager to find out.”

Rena pouted a little bit. Great, so everyone’s taken all the good and easy ideas. What else was there?

“I don’t know what to do with my account. Ladybug says I can’t do interviews and stuff because Hawkmoth could use stuff against us.”

Carapace briefly looked confused, and then understanding crossed his face. “Well, I can tell you that no one here would disagree with that.”

“I know, I know, it makes sense,” she sulked, resting her head on her hand. “But then what do I do?”

He shrugged. “I don’t know. Being the ‘smart one’ is kind of your thing.”

She frowned at that, but brushed past it. “I don’t really care about my image, it’s not that important to me --.”

“It should be.”

Her gaze shot up to see his expression was uncharacteristically serious.

He seemed to realize this, too, because he cleared his throat and brought a smile to his face again.

“I know you’re new, so let me give you some advice: keep your life as a hero and a civilian as far apart as you possibly can. Since we’re everyone’s therapists and all, it’s kind of depressing when you start thinking about everything the civvies tell you when you’re off the job.”

Carapace reached out slowly, giving her time to draw back, and rested a hand on top of her head.

“So, lean into your image. Lean into it so hard you become a parody of yourself. It’s better for everyone that way. Trust me.”

She reached up and pulled his hand off, frowning deeply. “If you think that then why did you agree to live with us? Why are you taking videos of us all being friends?”

“Well, I live with everyone because it was a good solution for some concerns I had about college… not that we really had a choice. Master Fu wasn’t going to give it up.” He leaned back in his chair and stretched. “And I’m taking videos of everyone because it’ll help when we need to do our whole therapy thing. People talk more when they feel close to you.”

Rena stared at him in shock. That was… surprisingly cold and calculated for the supposed ‘nice’ hero. Then again, by his own admission, he didn’t even see himself as that nice of a person.

Were all the other heroes like that? Lying about their personalities for the sake of the public or their mental health? And, if they were, were they keeping up the act while there too or did they consider living in the house their new ‘civilian’ life?

She pushed herself to her feet abruptly, startling Carapace a second time. She crossed her arms.

“I’ve got an idea for what to do. Thanks.”

“Huh? But I didn’t --?”

She was already gone.

~

Despite the temptation to disobey that she was pretty sure wasn’t entirely her fault, Rena had gone to Ladybug a few days later with a proposal:

“I still want to be an informant to the people.” She saw Ladybug begin to protest, so she rushed to finish the rest of her sentence: “Obviously, I won’t be giving them anything of substance, but it could help to make them feel closer to us as heroes.”

Ladybug couldn’t turn down the reasoning. It was what Carapace had listed as his own.

And, to her delight, Ladybug seemed to agree because she clicked her tongue and nodded.

“Fine. What’re you planning to do?”

“Simple stuff. A house tour -- making sure to blur and hide anything that could give Hawkmoth our location -- and then after that keep them updated on the news.”

There was a silence as she considered this. Then her head tipped to the side. “What do you mean by ‘news’?”

“Nothing major. Have you ever seen a drama channel on YouTube? Stuff like that.”

“... fine, but you should run your videos by everyone involved before uploading.”

Rena nodded her understanding.

~

She started with the house tour. If she was going to do this, she needed to gain their trust. A few normal videos, and then she’d start trying to slip the public information about the heroes’ true personalities.

Rena didn’t want to expose them to Hawkmoth, and especially didn’t want to expose their families, so she really was going to try to respect most of their privacy. For this reason, she did tell them all when she was going to do the house tour so they could hide anything that could be used to figure out their identities.

She started with the shared rooms like the kitchen and living room, but she brushed past all of that quickly since she knew that wasn’t what they’d be interested in.

Her room was first. It was the same size as every other bedroom in the house, but it felt tiny and cramped. There was a dresser, a desk, a bed, three different bookshelves, an end table… well, let’s just say that she’d brought more stuff than necessary. The room wasn’t exactly neat, it seemed that it would buckle under the weight of Rena’s knickknacks if she wasn’t careful, but it wasn’t necessarily dirty either; everything had its place.

She decided to put the more boring rooms in the middle for the good old watchtime. Ladybug’s room was fine but her personality was a bit dull when it came to this kind of thing, and Carapace’s personality was fine but his room was boring, so...

She was off to Ladybug’s room. She climbed up to the attic and finally figured out exactly what Ladybug had been working on since they’d moved in. Apparently she was trying to make an indoor jungle gym using the support beams on the ceiling. It actually looked like a pretty good workout, though maybe a little unsafe. Beyond that, the room was rather full. Random pieces of furniture (mostly chairs) were strewn about, loaded with a precarious amount of fabrics.

She found Ladybug hunched over a sketchbook on her bed, swaddled in blankets despite the fact that the attic was actually pretty warm.

She looked up at her and blinked. “Oh. Now? Okay.” She escaped her blanket prison with minimal struggling and then gave a short tour of her room.

Rena pointed to a divider on the other side of the room. “What’s behind there?”

Ladybug looked over and a blush spread across her face. “I don’t have a closet, so that’s where I put the secret identity stuff for now. Don’t go back there.”

For some reason, Rena thought she was being lied to. However, she couldn’t just go back there when Ladybug had just said that it would reveal her identity, so she just nodded and said: “Gotcha. Thanks for the tour.”

She moved on to Carapace’s room next. She pushed the door to his room open and sent a smile and a wave. All his textbooks were safely stashed out of sight and he’d cleaned up the normal mess of old snacks for the video, which somehow made his room feel even emptier than usual.

“Here we have a wild Carapace in his natural habitat. Though, why this is what he chose as his natural habitat is beyond me.”

He laughed good-naturedly. “I don’t need much.”

“I can see that.”

He smiled. “Ridiculous! Utterly Ridiculous!” He said, doing his best impression of Chloe.

Rena cleared her throat, and then did a perfect impression of her voice.

Carapace’s eyes widened. “Chloe?”

She tried not to laugh, and instead nodded and continued her impression: “Yes. I’m secretly Chloe. Rena asked me to take her place for this because she was tired.”

He didn’t seem sure whether or not to take this as a joke, and she gleefully left the room.

She moved on to Chloe’s room. It was… somehow both bright and dark in there and this threw Rena off more than she’d like to admit. While most people would take Rena for the hoarder (and they’d probably be right to), Chloe also seemed to have some hoarding problems; the walls were taken up with different luxury items from jewelry to handbags; the floor was littered with different plants at seemingly random intervals.

Chloe looked up from where she was tending to some plants with the help of a few bees (wait, was there an actual BEEHIVE in there?).

“I like your… bees…?”

Chloe snickered. “Thanks. They don’t like you, though, so I’d suggest you leave.”

Rena was a little offended that the bees didn’t like her, but she didn’t need to be told twice.

She headed to Chat’s room next.

When she opened the door she had thought that he wasn’t there. The lights were off outside of a TV which, upon closer inspection, she realized someone was playing a video game. Huh. She turned on the light.

Once she was actually able to see, she was taken aback by how dirty it was. Clothes littered the ground; the bed looked like it hadn’t been made since they moved in; there was a grand piano but it was currently being used as a trash can for old snack bags.

“Did you forget that I was doing a house tour today?”

“Nope,” said Chat from somewhere in the filth.

“Oh… okay…”

The video cut.

~~~

Taglist

@nathleigh @mialuvscats @sassakitty @th1s-1s-my-aesthet1c @blueslushgueen @woe-is-me0

[patchdotexe]

doip. / 9.13.21

I WAS LOOKING AT THE MAP AND PEPPER STARTED EATING MY SKETCHBOOK

today we are in "o- WHAT THE FUCK HAPPENED TO THIS SCREENSHOT

WE'RE IN ORRE BUT THE TEXTURES ARE FUCKED UP, BUT THEN PASTING THIS INTO WORDPAD FUCKED IT UP EVEN MORE??????????????

jorb did the math and the candy i'm eating is literally 50% sugar

maybe i shouldn't do my notes in wordpad actually considering it's weird all the time

good news: this time i think my headset is set up so i'll be able to hear the dbz music

oh there's nyx! he feel asleep. jorb: i was nearly gonna say "i'm gonna inject you with caffeine", but i almost said "i'm gonna inject you with cocaine". i think I'M gonna feel asleep.

PREVIOUSLY ON DRAGONS ON ICESPIRE PEAK: oh man the dbz music is so crunchy we cleared out a temple from dangerous oozes so that the dwarves at the excavation could hide out there from the dragon! also some other stuff happened. i think i maybe shouldve reread my notes

jorb: so you're gonna head to the inn? [water noise] michael: yes. jorb: WHO PEED?

michael is talking abt his friend's cat <3 luigi................ he is very afraid of everything and michael is trying to feed him, which is a problem bc he keeps hiding "like a little bitch"

OKAY we're gonna be escorting Don-Jon Raskin somewhere! he's been decided to be australian. jorb: oh god i don't know how to do an australian accent leo: YOU'RE AUSTRALIAN,, jorb: i'm a non-practicing australian.

jorb: --and two things of oil, which you should not eat. alidaar: but what if i did jorb: i think that'd be bad for your health. nameless: but what if i want to jorb: ..the crates--

michael: how much does an ox cost jorb: don't tell me you're gonna fence the ox! michael: no i'm gonna see how much an ox costs in case the dragon shows up and [the ox] doesn't make it

escorting a man, escorting an ox! are any of us good at animal handlOH OF COURSE THE DRUID IS michael: nyx is currently a binturong. jorb: you could stop being a binturong! nyx: no <3 this can only go well.

the ox is now tobias's new best friend OH, RIGHT, TOBIAS CAN TALK TO ANIMALS. he probably just talked to vincent (the ox). tobias: hi vincent! my name is tobias [silence] jorb: .........i don't know what an ox would say,

michael: new plan, i'm the decoy for the dragon

oh hey a pile of dead orcs. that's definitely not ominous or anything they died from extreme cold! dragon was here 3 days ago. uh oh. also i think it's fun that ali would recognize Death By Cold = Dragon considering their own breath weapon is cold fhglkxdfhk oh hey silver battleax!

oops i missed some exposition bc i was adding my shiny new battleaxe i stole to my sheet

heading into the mine! BIG RAT GUARDS? we don't know what these are bc ali and lil guy don't have great arcana and tobias, the guy who DOES, rolled a nat1 don-jon is now the overseer of a mine of rats (don-jon was sent by the owner of the mine to take over, but now it's been taken over by Someone New who has, uh, weird rat guards? this may be an issue.) This Is An Issue the mine has been commandeered by the whiskered gang! (ali: that's a stupid name.) they got chased out of their old territory by orcs so they've decided to turn the mine into their new base of operations. however, IF we take out the orcs, then the gang will leave!

oh apparently jorb had to add in the silvered axe i picked up bc uh. these guys are were-rats! so they're immune to everything that isn't silvered or magical! OOP

jorb: [doing scene description] ..why is the barrel crab typing?

hm. okay so we found an abandoned place with horses. specifically this whole place has gotten burned down. Not Good. time to keep moving on!

i spaced out and heard the phrase "bubblebutt ranch" and i will never be free again

nyx: I CAN BE A CATERPILLAR jorb: i highly don't recommend it

WAIT WHY DOES INVISIBILITY LAST FOR 1 HOURS little guy is now invisible! and scouting the shrine of savras. oh turns out binturongs can Open Doors. like, irl. sorry jorb :V

jorb: okay, you're touching the altar? nyx: i touch the altar. oh nyx is having an out of body experience! little guy is seeing a fortress on icespire peak, which appears to be where our bastard dragon is living!

jorb: luckily none of the orcs have moved from the spot you last saw them in, as if they're glued to their spots until they're engaged with in some sort of combat

oh we're doing combat now ALL OF THE ORCS TAKE THEIR TURNS AT THE SAME TIME?

HELP GIRL WE'RE IN COMBAT AND I JUST GOT PINGED IN THE TACO STAND TO EXPLAIN WHY HORSES AREN'T ALLOWED IN EMBLEM WARHORSE

leo: im using this orc's head as a golf ball. jorb: okay! you use this orc's head as a golf ball! it's.. it goes.

jorb: you can high-five the bear as a free action.

I Am Losing All Of My HP In One Turn

finally getting to use my runes! fuck yea. also i'm very tired and kinda distracted bc of Taco Stand Horse Discourse but mostly i'm just tired

tobias: i put myself facedown in defense mode and end my turn.

alidaar finished combat by climbing up a PILE OF BODIES and LUNGING AT THE OGRE to SLICE ITS HEAD OFF WITH HIS BRAND NEW BATTLEAXE and then used his morningstar to fucking golfclub that head out of sight. hell yes

alidaar: poggers. "you say that from 3 rooms away?"

WE STOLE A BELL THATS WORTH LIKE 2.5K GOLD?????? jorb: you gotta sell it though, it's not gonna just turn into money alidaar: what if we stare at it for a really long time

man. this is really different from arvus in structure. like this is a premade thing and its very much like . phandalin is the quest hub. go to a place! fight mobs! find treausre! go back to phandalin! which is kinda boring but also I Get It bc its premade. HOLD ON WHY IS MICHAEL TALKING ABOUT ORCS FUCKING LUIGI MARIO

[self-shipyard]

"Strawberry Fields Forever" - A Self-Ship Fic

SYNOPSIS: A fic in which Lumaca discovers that Gh.iaccio used to write poetry... and that he recently got back into writing it because of her. All this was discovered through a little black notebook.

Word Count: 1044

CW: In-Character Swearing

Note: For context, in canon, he hates metaphors he can't understand. Because of this, and the fact that he can reference certain works (i.e. "Merchant of Venice Venezia"), I have a headcanon that he's very passionate about literature in general and that maybe he even studied it in college. This fic is based on said headcanon.

Lumaca stepped into the bedroom, intending to make a beeline for the bathroom.

It had been a long day for her and she was hoping she could get a quick shower before she could make dinner for her and her fiancé.

Just before she could, something on the desk grabbed her attention.

At first, she thought it was a sketchbook that she must’ve forgotten to put away. However, upon closer inspection, she discovered that it wasn’t a sketchbook at all; instead, it was a notebook with lined pages.

It must have been brand new, looking like it had been bought yesterday and even carrying that ‘new book smell’ to it. On top of that, she never saw this one lying around before.

Where did it come from?

Carefully, she opened the notebook just to get an idea of what it could be.

On the first page, there was a little note in what was clearly Ghiaccio’s handwriting.

“I’ve once again found the urge to write poetry,” it read. “I haven’t done it since I got my literature degree but my love for Lumaca gets stronger by the day, so I figured I ought to put it down on paper. Maybe it’ll help me figure out how to write my vows in the meantime.”

Warm feelings rippled all over Lumaca’s body and they all made her hold a hand to her mouth, closing her eyes tightly and humming joyfully in the process.

Even when he wasn’t physically around, Ghiaccio really was the sweetest.

She felt a little bad for continuing to pry, but her curiosity peaked at the mention of him having experience with poetry. Of course, it made sense to her, considering his lean towards older literature, but what did that mean for his poetry style?

She delicately turned the page.

Lumaca’s heart sunk when she was met with large streaks of ink covering the page, clearly in a frenzy. It sunk lower as she discovered that the next few pages looked similar to that one; big streaks covering up the free verse he’d written down.

“My poor Ghiaccio,” she thought as she continued to search. “What could’ve caused him to do this…?”

Finally, she found a page with a poem. It was titled “Your Love” and she brushed her fingers against its verse as she read it in her head.

My eyes were blocks of unloving ice

That dripped into puddles with your smile

My hands were frozen wastelands

That melted into green pastures with your touch

My heart was a miserable snowstorm

That gave way to sunny skies with your kiss

I was the bitter cold

That became warm with your love

With All My Love, Ghiaccio ❤

Immediately, she closed the book and held it to her chest, her cheeks turning a deep shade of red and her eyes shutting themselves tightly. If he were here right then, she would’ve held him and kissed him and told him how beautifully written his words were.

She looked down at the page again, only to discover notes on the sides of the poem that said things like “This sounds stupid” and “Would she like something this corny?”

To say she was surprised was an understatement.

He was always so good and concise with his words, so to see him express so much doubt in his own work… She just had to show him her appreciation.

But how?

That was when she eyed a small sheet of paper on the edge of the desk next to a pen. Looking at the two items together gave her an idea.

…

Ghiaccio stepped through the door to their apartment, closing it behind him.

“Lumaca, I’m home” he called out.

From where he stood, he could hear the sound of running water and the sweet sound of his beloved fiancé singing to the tune of “Strawberry Fields Forever”.

He hummed softly along.

“Fuck, what a beautiful voice,” he said to himself. “And it belongs to my future wife…”

With the desire to see her filling his head, he quickly made his way over to the door to their bedroom, pushing the slightly ajar door open.

He stopped as he spotted something on the desk.

It was his little poetry notebook just as he had left it before he went to work, but now there was also a neatly folded piece of paper on top of it. From where he was standing, he could see it had his name written on it in her handwriting, with a little heart over the “i”.

“Did she look at it?” Ghiaccio wondered to himself. “I mean, I don’t mind if she did, but what I wrote looks like shit and makes no sense. She couldn’t have liked it.”

Gingerly, he unfolded the paper to discover a poem in her handwriting. He read it in his head.

A flame blown out long ago

Reignited by your brave words

A heart locked behind fear

Freed by your strong hands

A flower with petals shut tight

Bloomed by your gentle lips

A girl lost

Found by you

A little note was left at the bottom of the page.

“Your poetry is beautiful, my love. May you always find inspiration to keep writing. Forever Yours, Lumaca ❤”

If he wasn’t so worried about damaging the paper, he would’ve curled up on the bed and grasped the poem to his chest, where his lovestruck heart raced and made his lips and hands tremble with it.

“She… she loved it…!” he whispered hoarsely.

Ghiaccio’s head whipped around in time to watch Lumaca step out of the bathroom, dressed and unaware he was in the room until she looked up.

A sheepish blush spread across her face the minute she spotted him and her lips parted. Yet before she had time to apologize for prying into his notebook, he ran up to her and wrapped his arms tightly around her waist. His face buried into her hair, muffling his words.

“I love you,” he mumbled. “I love you… God, so sweet to me… My bucaneve…!”

She placed her hands against his back, feeling his heart beating wildly through her hand, and she smiled with her eyes closed tightly.

“I love you too, honey. I love you so much.”

[birdsaesthetic]

Jane’s sketchbook

Summary: Jane freaking out over losing her sketchbook, my participation for 12 Days of Blindspot.

A/N: I wrote this a while ago then ignored it... But then I saw these prompts from @holidayblindspot which reminded me of already having written something that goes with one of the prompts, so I thought this was a sign for me to edit it real quick and post it. I’m so exited to be sharing this here because it’s beautiful and really worth sharing. ENJOY! 

Day 5: A ruined day. 

“Kurt,” Jane called from across the front room, to which Kurt immediately looked up and responded, “Yeah?”

“Have you seen my sketchbook?”

Looking around him quickly yet carefully, Kurt murmured, “No,” he then looked up at her, who seemed stunned at having heard the No from him. 

The two were in the middle of unpacking the boxes they brought up with them from their old apartment in New York all the way to the new one in Colorado, which, after managing to unpack the majority of the boxes and placing their contents ever since morning, it finally started to feel like home. Like their old apartment in New York. 

Doing so had been so fun at first, each one was having a glass of red wine in hand and there was loud music playing in the background and, since there weren’t curtains covering the windows just yet, there was the beautiful addition of bright and warm sunlight streaming inside the spacious front room that felt so rewarding and motivating. But when the sun went down, taking with it its light and warmth, the work got monotonous, and so by now they were both exhausted and hungry. 

Jane was also confused now. 

She looked down at all the boxes scattered on the floor around her, which were almost empty by now, and she felt the world spinning around her in confusion and fear for having been unable to locate her sketchbook among all these boxes. 

“Why? Couldn’t you find it?” Asked Kurt, seemingly confused too as he approached her.

Creases were starting to form on her forehead as she shook her head in confusion. “No,” she said quietly, then jumped from one box to another, double checking each one, randomly, quickly and with both hands, as if she were digging into a hole. And then, after all of that, which was in a span of thirty seconds, she shook her head yet again, though this time in disappointment, and looked up at Kurt in a plea for understanding. “I don’t know why I can’t find it because it should be here. I put it here. I put all my small things here, and I didn’t have a lot of things!” 

Kurt was standing right before her by now, hunching over to check inside the boxes again. It was helpless, he knew; she’d already rummaged in all those boxes with eager hands and big eyes and yet found nothing... But if there was a one-in-a-million chance, he would absolutely take it when it came to her.

When his eyes, wide open, met hers, he suggested, “Okay, maybe you’ve just got confused. Try to remember where you’ve last seen it.” She swallowed hard and tried to do as told, mouth slightly open. She settled her gaze at a random spot on his chest as both of them stood close against one another, then she pushed her mind so hard to visualize where she’d last seen the sketchbook and what she was doing, so she could retrace her steps in the process and hopefully remember something. 

But it was after a long, unbearable moment when Jane pushed her lower lip out in a sad pout and gave a shake of her head. Kurt hugged her loosely then. “It’s okay, we still have another set of boxes to be delivered here tomorrow morning.” He reminded her. “Hopefully we find it within one of the boxes then.”

Jane pulled back to look up at him, the sad look remained on her face. “But those coming boxes only have the kitchen supplies!” 

“You don’t know, maybe you forgot it there!”

“It’s not possible... I put it here,”

“Everything is possible.” He encouraged, then added, “Aren’t you hungry by now, though? Because I’m so hungry! How about pb&j for dinner, huh?”

“I don’t mind.” Jane muttered with a shrug. 

Together they decided to call it a day after dinner and climbed into bed, crawling close to each other as they lied down against the mattress. Their foreheads were touching as they shared a loving gaze, then Kurt whispered, “Can I get my good night kiss, or you don’t feel like—”

“No—yes, of course you’re getting your good night kiss!” She rushed to say, reassuring him just before she smiled the tiniest of smiles and kissed him hard on the lips, to which he kissed her back even harder. After that, she placed her hand over his arm that had been wrapped around her waist beneath the blanket, lifted it, rolled over to her side, and again let his arm be wrapped around her waist. This was how she’d always loved to sleep with him: she’d turn her back to him and he’d take the cue and cuddle her from behind with a light arm across her waist beneath the blanket and a soft kiss right behind her ear that would make her hum and snuggle deeper into his embrace until they’d look like two spoons in a drawer, very tight against each other. 

As she closed her eyes and tried to sleep, hoping to raise up to a promising morning that would bring with it her sketchbook, she could swear she saw the vague afterimage of the sketchbook in her eyes, but then she opened her eyes and only saw the darkness of the bedroom...

She didn’t own a lot of things, really. The only things she owned and loved so much were that sketchbook and her marriage ring. The engagement ring was as if glued to her finger ever since she had worn it years ago. As for the sketchbook, she had always made sure to keep it within her hand reach, though this time around it oddly disappeared! 

It was the very first purchase she made solely for herself when she started to receive a regular paycheck after working formally for the FBI. At first she didn’t know what to do with such a decent amount of money since she’d already been provided with a place to stay in, clothes, a cell phone and food—usually her detail had dropped food at her place without even asking for anything back, which made her really embarrassed.

It could be the crack of dawn or early morning when Jane fluttered her eyes open the next day, and after a long moment of gazing at Kurt’s sleeping face, she gave him a soft kiss on the temple then eased herself out of bed. With her eyes half closed, she managed to step the few paces toward the bathroom, rinsed her face in the sink, brushed her teeth and finally put on a comfy sweater she gripped from the hanger. 

Yawing, she stumbled across the front room that was messy with boxes they hadn’t even bothered to flatten or push away last night, until she made it into the kitchen. There she stood in the center, stretched her neck, and yawned some more with her eyes pressed close. When she reopened her eyes, the sight of a can of cocoa shoved in the far corner suddenly inspired her. And so, as if drawn by a magnet, she stepped toward the refrigerator, opened it and examined its contents, though there wasn’t much to see. There was random stuff and among them was a brand-new bottle of milk, which she only needed to fix a cup of hot cocoa for now.

She took it out then brought up a pan. There she poured some of the milk, dissolved cocoa powder, and finally put it on the stove to simmer. Standing with folded arms in the dim lighting in the kitchen, she stared down at the pan as the milk boiled within it, and after a full minute of waiting, small curls of steam rose into the air and the scents of cocoa powered revolved all around her, to which she felt torn between wanting to savour it immediately or just stand there and inhale it. But she awaited a bit more. Next she poured everything into an oversized cup with a faint smile. 

Warming her fingers with the cup, she made her way to the dining table, then settled on a seat there as she began taking small sips of the hot cocoa before it had even cooled off, to which it took her by surprise at first at how hot it was, scalding even. 

During such times, when she woke earlier than she would and was by herself, she would bring up her sketchbook and sketch on it whatever she was feeling at the given moment. It was the perfect timing and place to do so; her thoughts would emerge so originally in the early mornings, they wouldn’t be conflicted nor affected by the day’s activities just yet. 

She hadn’t known how good she was at sketching until one day she held a pencil, a very sharp one, and began sketching without any struggle. Back then, when solving her tattoos had been what her life was basically all about, she used to sketch them individually in hopes of finding any connection that might help figure out what they actually meant. But then as the days passed, she thought she wanted to do something else, something that was in a good way stirring her heart down to the depths, just like the way her spoon was stirring her cup of cocoa now.

And so, with her pencil sharp, she began with a light outline of a face, next she worked on the eyes, which she made them like the shape of almond. She let out a sigh then,  knowing that the eyes must be the toughest part, before continuing with them. She drew the first pupil, purposely making it darker than the eye, then did the same for the other eye. She added a little shading underneath the eyes and from there she started with the nose, extending two lines where the inner corners of each eye were located. 

The rest went easy: she did the eyebrows, the lips, the beard and then the hair, creating a solid and visible looking hairline from the sides of the head. 

It was Kurt’s face that she sketched and it looked impressive at the end. She made him look as if staring at her, and made his expression soft with a faint smile—the way he’d usually look at her. 

It was quiet around her now, not a single sound, until she heard running waters within the bathroom and, a minute later, she saw Kurt emerge and approach her. “Mornin,” he smiled, his face awash with decent sleep, his hair... so fluffy she couldn’t help but think it needed a trim, so badly.

“Mornin,” she replied. 

He bent down and stole his morning kiss from her then hummed. “You taste like a really good hot cocoa!”

“Because I was drinking one.” She told him, showing him her cup, almost empty by now. 

“Can I have the same?”

“Sure.” She got up and started doing the same thing she did earlier, taking the same measurements. 

“Did you sleep well, Jane?” He asked as she waited by the stove for the cocoa to simmer. “Yeah.”

“You don’t look like you slept well.” He claimed. 

“I slept well, Kurt. Now tell me, when is our ship  gonna get here?”

“Maybe after a bit.”

She served him his cocoa in a brand-new cup, and he took it with all smiles after thanking her. 

When their another set of boxes arrived, after some time, Jane tucked all of her hair back behind her ears and, kneeling down, she eagerly began looking thoroughly in each box along with Kurt. As she’d said before, the boxes contain kitchen supplies: dishes, cups, mixing bowls, knives and spoons, a cutting board, blender, vegetable peeler and a number of whisks. 

But even after all this effort, they couldn’t find it, Jane’s sketchbook, among all of those things. 

She stood up on her feet then, and took a deep breath, tired and disappointed, her palm wiping away the sweat on her forehead and her eyes, helplessly, maintained searching in the mess of boxes on the floor. 

“It’s alright, I’ll get you a new one, I promise.” Kurt tried to soothe her, to which she looked up at him and, shaking her head, she complained, “It’s not about getting a new one, Kurt. I need my old one back. It carries lots of memories and...” she trailed off with her head falling down, but after a moment of silence Kurt approached forward until he closed the gap between them and cupped her face in his hands, lifting it to his level. “We will be making new memories here. Beautiful ones.”

“I know, but...there’s just one drawing of you within the sketchbook that I just love so much and I want it back.”

“You have lots of pencils and papers here. You also have me here. I will sit still the whole day so that you can draw me, I really wouldn’t mind, you know me.” He suggested, to which she smiled the way one corner of her mouth tilted up whenever she felt affection for him, then chuckled. “You don’t have to. I can draw you easily without having to look at you.”

He grinned. “Right, because you’re the most talented person I’ve ever met.”

“It’s not wholly because I’m that talented though. I wouldn’t be able to do that with anyone else except for you, because I always have you in my head—this is how and why I drew you in the first place. I know your face very well—even more than my own, I would say—and I know how you would look from every angle.”

He pushed his lower lip out in an impressive pout, feeling awash with affection for her. “You know lots of things about me! Do you also wanna know what I know about you?” He asked, having already slipped both hands from her face down her neck, shoulders, and finally her waist. And before she could say anything in response, he was tickling her there. “I know how to make you laugh, and laugh, and laugh.”

She was laughing then, pleading him to stop it, squirming her body out of his arms, and calling his name aloud and repeatedly, but that was only for him to reward her with more stroking against her waist, the area where he knew was very sensitive for her. She tried to fight his firm grip around her, tried to push him away, tried to run away, but seconds later she was, almost instinctively, clutching into him hard, as if holding for her life, and kept laughing nonstop, like she never had in her whole life, head dropped back exposing her neck for him to bury his face there, mouth open to the fullest, and eyes squeezed. Her laughters rolled about the front room in the early morning, like a child's spinning top, vibrant and heart-warming as it moved around them in its chaotic way. It came in fits and bursts—loud to soft to nothing when she was gasping for breaths in-between, then back to loud again and so on.

Just like this, her previous, sad face was replaced with a happy and laughing one.

He really knew how to butter her up. Always had.

A/N: I don’t really support the idea of Jeller moving out of New York after canon. I love them to be there and I think it suits them perfectly to be New Yorkers. But I had to fake it only for this fic’s plot. So they’re still in New York in my head now, enjoying themselves...

[cumbercookiebatchs]

Grantaire was confused.

Grantaire was confused and he’d been like that since the night prior, when an over exited and -quite frankly- adorable Enjolras had knocked on his door, demanding him to be up and ready to head out by seven in the morning.

Well-

Grantaire had been a little taken aback, not used to being the focus of Enjolras’s furore like that but really, there was no way he could have said no.

He’d been done for the moment Enjolras had jumped on his bed, wearing what probably was the ugliest pair of pyjamas Grantaires’ eyes had ever had the disgrace to land upon, blue flannel and tiny white buttons and well, it was just unfair to look good wearing that. Enjolras’ curls jumped all around as he sat himself on the heavy quilt, just shy of Grantaires’ leg, looking up at him with what looked like a glint of mischief in his eyes.

“I have a surprise for you- he said, and- you might want to bring your camera along”

And that’s how Grantaire found himself prancing around, seemingly with no direction, through the trees surrounding their cabin at seven in the morning.

It was incredibly cold, even for his standard; a high mantle of snow covering the ground and the sun still too low to give off any warmth. It made for a wonderful landscape, that was for sure, with the pink hue of the early morning and the mist and the stillness of it all, the low branches curving and bending under the heaviness of the snow.

The frigid air filled his lungs and seemed to wake him up a little bit more, and he wrapped his scarf more tightly around his neck, peeking at the blond beside him.

Enjolras’s nose had managed to turn as red as the down jacket he was wearing. He was wearing a scarf and an hat and mittens, too, because Enjolras and the cold had never gotten along well and the more layers he could wear, the better it was for his circulation.

And the better it was for Grantaire’s sight, too. Not that he’d say it out loud but yeah, he was cute. Really cute. So cute that Grantaire felt himself slide in one of his Enjolras-induced-daze, which prompted him to try and start a bit of conversation, just to avoid getting lost in the numerous shades of Enjolras’s hair and how they brushed his cheeks, something that would have him inevitably fall down on his butt in the middle of the woods.

“You know, I still can’t believe you’re out there in the cold at this ungodly hour. Are you sure you’re alright, Jo?”

It was a bit mocking, he knew, but hey, it earned him a grin from Enjolras, and what could maybe be considered a wink- “I told you, I have something to show you”

“No, no- I got that, just, why so early in the morning? it’s a lot colder and we both know you crave heat.”

Enjolras shrugged a bit- at least Grantaire thought he did, it was hard to say with how bundled up he was – “I’m sure you’ll want to spend the whole day there once we arrive, that’s all”.

The wind picked up then, the faintest bit, and its gentle whisper muffled Enjolras’s voice and had him moving closer to Grantaire for the bite it held. Grantaire, too, moved subtly closer, trying to cover as much of Enjolras as he could with his body- “Okay, but where exactly is there? It seems to me like you’re trying to get rid of me and leave me in the middle of the woods.” That earned him an eyeroll and a snort,

“Miscreant.”

Enjolras was right, Grantaire ended up speechless for once in his life when they took a sharp turn to the left and ended up in dreamy winter land.

He blinked, taking in all that was around them, from the pebbled path to the ramshackle houses and the abandoned little square they were currently in, the frozen fountain in the middle and Enjolras just beside it, his hat now gone just as gone was his scarf. He looked up at him as he put them into his backpack, flashing Grantaire with a smile so bright it made him flush.

Oh well.

“How did you find this place?” And, yeah, Grantaire could already feel the smugness radiating off Enjolras as he strolled to stand in front of him and raised a finely arched eyebrow “I asked?”

Grantaire huffed, “You know what I mean” he said, and buried his hands in the pockets of his coat, just to do something that wasn’t kissing the grin off of Enjolras’s face.

“Do you remember a few days ago? When Courf told us about the village’s history and how it’s really not that old?”

“Yeah?”

Enjolras nodded at him, “Well, that’s because the old village had to be abandoned after an earthquake.”

“And this is the old village.”

Enjolras nodded, “And this is the old village.”

Grantaire scrunched up his nose, leaning toward Enjolras a bit before realizing what he was doing.

He cleared his throat, “You still have to answer me though. How did you find this place?”

Enjolras shrugged again, “Jean and I went for a walk yesterday, remember? Well, we asked around a bit. It wasn’t such a hard thing to do, you know?” -He winked.

He winked and Grantaire felt his heart jump up in his throat, and Enjolras walked even closer to him, his boots squeaking on the pebbles under his feet; his breath came out in little puffs of steam and the sun was now high behind him, and Grantaire had never seen him look as radiant as he was in that moment, his nose still red and his cheeks well on the way, too. “Do you like it then?”

Grantaire gulped, then he gulped some more. “I - I love it.”

Enjolras smiled at him again, from up close this time, and well, Grantaires’ soul was ready to leave his body and fly away from Enjolras, and his eyes, and his curls, and his cheeks, and his nose and his mouth that was moving and had Grantaire focusing once again on the conversation at hand.

“That’s not even the best part, you know?”

He blinked, “No?”

Enjolras just shook his head and – fuck- took his hand, leading him through the abandoned village and its snow-covered streets, until they reached the highest point where an old church stood.

Even just the outside of it was breath taking, the light falling down and sculpting every nook, every stone, the gargoyles up above and the twisted pillars beside the portal, down to their bases, playing with the broken windows and what was left of the rosette and suddenly Grantaire understood what Monet must have felt, what had him painting the Rouen Cathedral over and over again.

His chest felt heavy and Enjolras’s hand was warm in his own, but he only became aware of it when Enjolras let go to push open the heavy doors, disappearing behind them a moment later.

Grantaire shook his head and went after him, losing his breath all over again as soon as he sat foot inside-

He turned to face Enjolras, and something in his face must have shown, because Enjolras looked at him with so much tenderness that his knees went weak and he had to sit down, overwhelmed with everything surrounding him. It was so decadent; the fallen pillars, painted red and purple and blue by the light filtering through the leaded windows, what was left of them at least, and Enjolras in the middle of it all, calling Grantaire’s attention back on him with the trill of his laughter and by God, even then, when Grantaire was on his knees, surrounded in beauty, even there nothing could compare. Enjolras was shaped in light, and Grantaire could only blink.

“…why?”

Enjolras’s voice was soft, tender and shooting and everything holy when he spoke back at him, and Grantaire for a moment was ashamed of his own voice. “I knew you would have loved it”.

Grantaire was too far gone to answer, nodding as Enjolras sat on the cold ground at his side, so close their shoulders ended up pressed together. His nose was back up in the air though, and he pressed closer to Enjolras with a mournful grumble, “I wish I’d brought my sketchbook”. There was a bit of rustling then as Enjolras moved, but Grantaire did not pay much mind to it, too taken with how the statue in the far corner of the nave went from red to blue. He did turn around in the end though, when Enjolras tapped him on his jaw and placed a package between his hands, “You might want to open your Christmas present then.”

Grantaire looked from the brown wrapping to Enjolras’ eyes a few times before realization washed through him, “You didn’t”

“Just open it, you Muppet”

But Enjolras had, and he found himself holding a brand new sketchbook and a pencil set. He was so moved, he couldn’t speak, but Enjolras was still smiling at him, and he bumped their shoulders again. “Go ahead, start drawing. There’s a wonderful light this morning, don’t you think?”

Grantaire could only nod.

-----

Looks like i finally wrote something i actually like for the @enjoltaire-winter-week

yay me.