#i found a new pen its very fun to sketch with

[u3pxx]

sorry she's in the brain

[tpher]

how do you make your oc screencap edits?? i also have a td oc and i dont really know where to start 😭

ok so!!! i use firealpaca which is just my usual drawing program. so i'll keep using it as a reference for my steps but of course im sure whatever similar program u use should have similar features

i'll be long winded for funsies as usual 💕

FINDING YOUR SCREENSHOTS

the key to decent td edits is to flat out trace screenshots whenever possible. stock pics will do, but of course itll be a lot more fun and less obvious if u use a screenshot from the show and put it into your new context

in terms of making your ocs, you will likely have to do what someone once called "frankensteining" your pics. this is where you use pics of other characters for their specific features and put them together since your oc doesnt have official screenshots to trace. this also absolutely comes in handy w canon characters! maybe you have a pose but u need them to be sitting. so try to stitch together two different pics to get what u need

it will look very scary but just trust the process. here is a random example i made using a dawn screenshot (where i removed the background), gwens eyes and eyebrows, and kittys hair

the sketching part is semi-optional. if you think you can freehand the lineart then go ahead but i assume your oc wont be a complete copy of something found in canon and therefore you will have to draw the newer/different features (such as the hair or the outfit) at least a little bit. and sometimes when i frankenstein the pics, my brain gets all overwhelmed so sketching makes me feel better jfbdjdnd

(in terms of my own oc, i screwed myself over bc his body type is so unique i gotta freehand it like all the time 😭

you can see i traced his head from his render (ALWAYS DO THIS BTW!!! TRACE CONSTANTLY), but then the body was freehanded using a canon pic as reference because tracing the pic wouldve been inaccurate)

THE LINEART

yes the iconic td thick, sharp, flat lineart. i achieve this by using a normal pen tool, turning off the pen pressure, and then turning up my pen stability to 40-60 (very high). you could use a curve tool if that works for you! but i would suggest against that for ALL of it bc the tool just wont respond well to rly drastic curves and such

the pen size varies on the pic. if the characters are close-up, itll likely be a bigger one. and then the characters' little details and facial features are usually a slightly but definitely noticeable smaller size. for the most part, ive had the bigger pen size at 13 while the details are around 9. or big size 10 and smaller size 7.

heres my technique:

as u can see, all of my lines go a bit too far. this is so that when im done drawing them, i can go back in and slowly erase where they meet and get them all sharp and pointy. this is just how i personally do it lmao. when it comes to facial features and other stuff that doesnt connect to anything, just get a close look at your reference to see how thick or how thin the edges get and do ur best to erase the edges to the point where they should be

THE COLORING

not much to it! the bucket tool is the best way to go. again just get a good look at your references just in case any parts have the lineart also colored in

THE BACKGROUND

you can find some generic td background pics on google or u could get them from the show and try to erase any character in the way lmao. if ur recreating something like, say, a dunc/ney scene w a different ship, then its very tedious but youll have to do your best to erase the canon characters and piece the background back together.

i like using the smudge tool a lot for this!!! just kinda pulling whats already there towards the characters. to save time, put your drawing visible on a top layer as you do this so that you dont have to edit the ENTIRE background, just what you need

THE RENDERING

ok so heres a big one imo. after youre done, youre gonna have to fuck up the quality at least a little. well not that u HAVE to but like..... to match the standard quality of a td screenshot? ive never seen a td screenshot in perfect hd quality outside of stock art. so u could blur ur drawing just a little bit. maybe add in the teeniest bit of chromatic aberration (just set it to 1 or -1). not ALL of them together but u do whatever u gotta do

my personal favorite is blurring just a little and then saving it as a jpeg (around 65-80%) so that its pretty crunchy and looks all the more real

obviously not a NECESSARY step but just something to point out. especially if ur background isnt the best quality so the characters have to match it

this one from yesterday i didnt even redraw topher bc i was lazy and he looks fine enough. i just put danny onto the pic to cover the other character. so i blurred danny a little bit and then saved it in a pretty low quality so that they match one another. look at those pixels. that crunch.

SO THE TLDR IS just trace and copy your references as close as possible. if you cant find a reference for your character, try finding another character w something close enough

[linnorabeifong]

Happy Birthday To Me... I Guess

Summary: It’s Asami’s twenty-first birthday, but she doesn’t feel like celebrating. That is until an unlikely friend turns her day around with a strange gift that leads Asami to discover her own past and unearth old secrets.

Link: https://archiveofourown.org/works/49461007/chapters/124826812#main

Note: This series is a work in progress that started three months ago. I'm already nine chapters deep. Currently writing chapter ten. This work was the second thing I posted to Ao3 so it's very rough, but the plot is fun if you're looking for a light read and like Asami-centric fics. It's focused on her learning about her mother and finding out...inconvenient information along the way. There is some background KyaLin if you're into that. It's slow burn korrasami, and not cannon compliant. The air kiddos and the entire krew are present as background characters as is Opal.

Chapter 1

Today was the big day, September 21st but to Asami it felt like any other. Lonely, busy, cold. She woke up early to an empty house. Brushed her teeth, styled her hair, washed her face, dabbed on perfume and carefully applied her signature red lipstick. She padded downstairs to make herself her usual tea, catching sight of the kitchen telephone through the corner of her eye. Her hands itched with the desire to call up a particular someone. To hear that voice again, to catch up, to just have someone she could talk to honestly. It was futile. Asami turned away, she knew the person on the other end would not pick up. She had tried before. She breathed in sharply, her tea that was hot just a moment ago was now ice to the touch. A tear fell into the cup and then another. She pretended not to notice and returned upstairs to reapply her makeup.

The rest of her day was spent sitting through tedious meetings, listening to investors drone on for what felt like forever. Reviewing budgets, supervising the Sato factories and sketching up plans for new buildings. She fidgeted with the pen in her hands and flipped through her sketchbook, realizing none of her ideas looked quite right. The scale was off, the layout wasn’t practical, where could she find the funding ? It was times like these when she missed her parents. Maybe her mother would have something encouraging to say or perhaps her father, the genius, would have a miraculous idea. To tell the truth she didn’t actually know what they would do. She hadn’t spoken to her father in years and she never really got the chance to know her mother. She glanced over her sketches again, sighed, gave up and returned home early.

To her surprise she found a large package on her doorstep. She brought it inside, sat it on her desk, and inspected it. The pink box had a large blue bow on it, and a piece of paper reading “To ‘Sami” in neat flowing script was tucked away neatly underneath the bow. Despite its size the package was light, and oddly enough smelled strangely familiar. The perfume scent was like an itch she couldn’t scratch. She knew she recognized it from somewhere but couldn’t recall exactly where. It was decidedly feminine, velvety, rich but not too heavy. Her curiosity got the better of her. She quickly reached out and unraveled the silk ribbons, eagerly lifting the lid off the box to uncover white tissue paper. She peeled back the delicate paper revealing a stunning floor length dress underneath. It was a snow white, silky affair. The fabric was fine and slightly sheer. She lifted it up in her arms and noticed the tiny jasmine flowers embroidered all over it in silver thread catching the light. The design snaked up the cuffs of the sleeves and the hem of the skirt. Forming an almost star like pattern. It was brilliant. The waist was cinched and emphasized by a silver ribbon. The skirt was voluminous. She sat the dress down and looked into the box to discover the accompanying slip. It was a soft pink and made of a more opaque silk, sleeveless and by the looks of it very form fitting. Cherry blossoms were concentrated along the bust in gold thread, and their petals descended down to the waist.

Asami could see the vision of the dress with the slip underneath in her mind. It was beautiful, the skirt just barely kissing the floor, the clever silhouette flattering her figure, “but why would anyone send me such an elaborate gift ?” she wondered. Then she realized it was her birthday. She forgot her own birthday. She looked at the tag of the dress, hoping it would give her a clue as to its origins. She was not prepared in the slightest for what she saw next. “Yasuko Tanaka” the tag read. Her heart skipped a beat at the familiar name. It couldn’t really be her mother’s, could it ? No, the last name was wrong. Unless…She didn’t know her mother’s maiden name. Could it really be ?

[cannoliao]

very sorry if you've already answered this but i cannot find it anywhere: what brushes do you like using the most on csp? i already have a few i like but i'd like to try new things! tysm in advance ^_^)7

no worries i'd love to share!! ^Q^ i have 3 that are my top go-to!!

for lining- Content ID: 1711220

i basically use this brush for everything!! sketching and lining (the material comes with 2 brushes but "さらペン" is the one i use)

for painting- Content ID: 1868743

i love stingo pen!! its a super fun brush that gives a lot of textured weight (i found that you gotta make the brush size super big,, i go 200-300px depending on my canvas size) 

for painting 2- Content ID 1761353

i found that this one works REALLY well if you use gradient map layers!! it's my cheat-cheat to add funky colors where i wouldn't know where to put lol

+ here's a painting i did where i used both stingo pen and su cream pencil!! It's my fav combo:

other than that I’ll just use the default Real G-Pen or (Content ID: 1687935, which im pretty sure is the top brushes downloaded, i used to use it a lot!)

thank u for the question !! i hope it was helpfullll and happy drauwuing!!

[sophsummerskvb222]

Week 5

On this week's tour to Victoria Park/ Barrambin, I unfortunately missed the original class. However, I was lucky enough to go on my own time on a bright and cheery day. I wasn't able to visit all the sights but was able to still complete the task as seen in the image above.

A key inspiration from the park was its meditative quality. When living in the heart of a city it is difficult to find places that are not regularly interrupted visually by buses, trains, people, and rubbish. All these aspects are part of daily life within the city. People rush by in a hurry for the next moment in their lives, traffic, and people not taking care of the world and people around them. What I found in the park was serenity and sanctuary. After a stressful morning, I began to sit and listen to the birds, trees, and people's chatter. No one and nothing around me was in a hurry, fearful or upset. It was a space to stop and breathe. When considering a work I knew I wanted this meditative quality to pull through. A second inspiration for the park was the wind. In cityscapes with tall buildings, wind doesn't flow as quickly and strongly. With this vast valley that laid before me the wind was so impactful. It wasn't stopped by the trees but created sounds of moving leaves. It felt soothing on my skin. The park felt long and enduring, and vast. The grass went for so long and the area was overall very comforting. I also was very happy to hear and see the traditional naming of the site from the traditional custodians of this land. As an islander with family in Rarotonga the nature and people within Brisbane felt seen and in doing so made me feel connected to the earth and other indigenous people.

The sketch inspired by the park were small wired structures that would attach but not harm the tree. Similar to the leaves bringing carried by the wind these structures would do the same. There would be small balls of manipulated wire attached to each other, swinging from side to side or up and down. They would allow visitors to gain interest in the complex and beautiful bark structures of trees and also be used as a tool of meditation. Bringing able to concentrate on these small objects and their sounds as a person slowly breathes in and out.

It was hard to make a photoshopped model. Wire's texture is very tricky to impersonate digitally. I am happy with the product I came up with, I used the pen tool, the paint tool, and the airbrush tool. I mainly drew these images and the shadows to make these images. The process was however very fun and created the idea I wanted.

Ana Mendieta - Untitled from The Tree of Life series - 1977 - https://artsandculture.google.com/asset/tree-of-life-ana-mendieta/0gHpmJioxe805A?hl=en

The work presented by Ms. Mendieta reminded me of the importance of place within spatial art. This earth and body work reminds me that the earth/ space is a part of the work. Without the placement of this work, it would not be a completed work. The place these spatial works are planted in is just as important as it is a part of the final composition of the entire work. This gives it levity or weight and attaches it to the present. 

Hanging Bench Project - Studio Consilio - https://architecture.calpoly.edu/news/student-news-archives/student-news-1112

This work is definitely more purpose-built than the others. Providing seating to the outside world but with a flare. The idea of comfort is present, with the soft brown wood which curves over itself providing shade for those around. The work reminds me that with proper care for detail, even a bench can have balance, ease, and levity within it. The work is powerful and has imbedded energy but doesn’t overpower the space. 

[jordanr5418967]

Week 10

Through the duration of the course Communications 2- sketch mode, I have continued expanding my knowledge when it comes to communicating design ideas through the use of sketches and both man made and digital 3D models. I genuinely think that I’ve grown as a designer and have gained access to a bigger understanding of ways to communicate and express ideas when it comes to developing designs and working collaboratively. It is also important to track me progress throughout my design ambitions so I can comprehend and suck in new information that could be used in future endeavours. I did design & technology and engineering in high school which set me up for success when attempting the first 3 weeks of technical drawings. I found these the easiest out of all the activities that were performed in this course. I was very familiar with orthographic drawing and the skills that are required to complete these tasks successfully. I feel like I possess these skills and if not then, I know do after completing these tasks. I find these drawing enjoyable and oddly satisfying which is the result of completing these given tasks to a high degree of accuracy. Overall, not too challenging assessment 1.

Using pen and paper is where I’m most comfortable. It’s when we move to digital platforms to replicate these drawings is where I struggle. Transferring perspective views into computer drawing software probably not was the hardest adjustment but the most fun part of the course. Adding detail to my drawings that couldn’t be down by hand such as perfect colour pallets, texture and perfect symmetry. It has to be my favourite learning experience. This is because you can do so much more online, you just have to put in the effort to learn new softwares. You can as add more colour, depth, detail, shape, form and life into 

renders. 

I have found onshape the easiest to use as we used for my HSC in high school designing my major project. Onshape is very similar to other digital softwares which means it gave me a very basic level of comprehension when starting a new program.

After finding that assessment 1 and 2 were quite simple with a few challenges along the way, I was prepared to take on assessment 3. This was the most difficult activity of the course with software techniques that I’ve never used before. Learning the 3dsMax software was the hardest part of this course. It took me a very long time to get a basic understanding of its platform. I still do not have a full understanding and will continue on experimenting and challenging myself to learn this complex software as I think it will be a great skill to have, making me more employable in the future. This challenge was probably due to my impatience, short attention span and limited time I got to learn this software as I had other assignments due with outside factors limiting my learning (being away for two week). For my final design, I used onshape to digitally draw my perfume bottle as I didn’t have a great understanding of 3ds max. But a future goal of mine is to continue learning this software and recreate me bottle in 3ds max.

Prior to coming to UNSW, my reflection skills on my own work wasn’t the greatest and needed improvement. I new this already after getting feedback from previous projects outside of uni. This is why this course has impacted me greatly because I have now practiced and gained a better understanding on how to properly and continuously reflect on my work. With this continuous self reflection and feedback from peers and tutors, I was able to produce a successful final product that represented the word serene through my perfume bottles shape and form.

For the final activity, we were asked to export our final modified scanned perfume bottle into cura for 3D printing. However, I wasn’t able to scan my perfume bottle so I had to use the given perfume bottle for the week 9 activity. But I then used my actual perfume bottle design that I drew on onshape and exported it to cura for 3D printing. As I wasn’t able to go into uni to 3D print this model, I’m planning to go in next week to print this. It’s just over 3 hours of printing time with won’t cost me much. I would love to compare it to my final clay modal that I made.

Overall, I loved being apart of this class and gaining knowledge that I can bring with me for future design projects. 

[theythemsam]

@waywardyke I drew this while listening to your (amazing) fanmix, bc it made me feel very SoftTM for sastiel. 

[the-nagakenny-archives]

I'm shy but I tried writing something hope you like it

One last sip of coffee and two stomps to properly secure his boots, and the Gravity Falls Weirdness Expert was out the door.

  It was on a particularly sunny, clear day that found Stanford once again out in the field for a little catch up on his studies. The past week had been uneventful within the confines of his basement, as if the world was allowing him time to compile the numerous foot notes and sketches of his latest findings into a fairly cohesive summary within the first few pages of his second journal. Nights and afternoons were spent humming over words that didn't quite flow, and cross referencing facts he had uncovered with rumors that fell deaf upon all ears but his. Lovely as the quiet had been, seven days was more than enough time to stay cooped up in a research shack when there was plenty more to discover.

  Stanford cupped a hand around his ear and listened. A woodpecker pecked away at its hole in a birch, determined for an early breakfast. Not too far from there, a squirrel skittered along branches, hoping for an acorn meal of its own. A gnome tutted at a rainbow puddle, helping its reflection pick at its latest zit.

  All sounded normal, the scientist regarded with a deep sigh of disappointment. It was uncommon to not have something completely new to marvel over. Were it not for the gnome, one wouldn't know that they were in Gravity Falls at all. It was all so peaceful and Oregonian. Perhaps the world was still holding its breath over more important things to come. Perhaps it didn't quite realize that Stanford was more than ready to jump back into the weird and the wild.

  Four more minutes of strolling and listening, Stanford was just beginning to consider going into town to replenish his supplies when he finally spotted an unusual subject he'd been craving.

  A long, long, long snake tail hung from below the branches of a bright red leafed tree. The tip, maroon and tan in color, swung slowly and rhythmically back and forth, like the tick and tock of a pendulum on a grandfather clock. Stanford's wide eyes traveled up the tail to see the colors recede to darker browns in circled patterns as the mass grew thicker the higher his gaze climbed. Whatever was up there, the leaves could only do so much to completely cover it. It had to be massive.

The first, most obvious thought that came to his head was Python, but he quickly dismissed it. Pythons were not native to Oregon, certainly not one of this length at the very least. Except, this was Gravity Falls, where the only acceptable thing was to accept the unacceptable. Even so, a Python, even one as gigantic as this, seemed too...ordinary for the town's infamy. He'd made it this far by thinking outside the box, so what else could possible have a snake tail of this capacity?

It hit him, and he had to choke back a gasp of delight. "A naga! An actual naga!" The whispered excitement seemed especially piercing in the quiet of the early morning, but he was too elated to care. This was exactly what he had been waiting for to break what had started as a monotonous walk in the woods. Patting at his breast pocket for a pen and paper, he wracked his brain for what little he knew about these creatures. From what he remembered, the bottom half was always a snake, while the top half-

  "Well, hello."

  Stanford yelped and juggled his pen for two seconds before he composed himself enough to acknowledge that he was not alone. Clutching his pen holding hand to his chest to steady his heartbeat, he replied hesitantly, "Hello?"

  A deep, throaty chuckle seemed to echo all across the canopy of trees, a pleasant sound, but not very becoming of his nerves. "Sorry. Didn't mean to scare you. You just looked so excited, I got a little curious."

  It wasn't hard to put two and two together. "I...should've realized that nagas were intelligent enough to understand human speech." Stanford cleared his throat, the thrill at the thought of another research subject spurring him on. "After all, if I'm getting my facts straight, your top halves are-"

Even if he had hypothesized it, he was not at all prepared for the sight that awaiting him. Slowing winding down from the thick branches was the top half of the naga; human in shape, and far more handsome than he could've imagined. Barrel chested with long chestnut hair, soulful brown eyes twinkling with mischief, and a long nose that only seemed to complete his features all the better. The naga's mouth curled into a playful smirk at Stanford's beguiled expression.

  "Impressed? Understandable. Not every day you run into someone like me, am I right?" He twisted his upper half upside down so that his long hair hung down in a wave of brown, barely tickling the grass beneath him.

  Stanford regained just enough sense to formulate a response. "Why, er, no, certainly not...hardly ever!" His excitement renewed, he clicked his pen and resumed reaching for some paper. "You must tell me everything about you!" His grin was all teeth.

  "Well, first thing's first, how about an introduction?" The naga said with no small amount of amusement. "My name's Kenneth. Call me Kenny."

  "Ah, yes, of course." Stanford shook his head and held out a six fingered hand. "Stanford Pines. Resident Researcher of Gravity Falls Phenomena. Pleasure to meet you, Kenny." Much to his delight, the Naga extended the red tip of his tail to shake with. "So fascinating! Your girth alone would take a whole page to describe! But more about that later; I must know all about your culture!" He set his pen to paper, waiting with baited breath and still beaming.

  Kenny returned the smile gleefully. "Well, I'm partial to smooth jazz, but I can't say no to samba. Oh, and don't get me started on-" The naga's rambles were cut short by Stanford's throat clearing.

  "Um, as stimulating as that is, I was hoping to do my research on your species as a whole."

  Kenny quirked an eyebrow. "Gonna need to clear me up on that."

  Stanford nodded patiently. "Well, it could be things like, what your diet consists of. Is English the most common language among your kind? Wouldn't a jungle be more befitting for a body such as yours? What natural abilities do you harbor, if any? How did-"

  "Ep, ep, ep!" Kenny, to Stanford's slight indignation, placed a finger to his lips, interrupting his little question vomit. "I think it'd be better to answer one at a ti-" The naga's eyes seemed to glint for a moment. "What was that last question?"

  Stanford pushed the finger off his lips to answer, "Um, what natural abilities do you harbor?"

  The glint returned, and the scientist knew that he'd seen a look like that many times before. Usually it was on his brother as he was hatching one of his harebrained schemes, one that would more than likely leave the two of them grounded, in body casts, or both.

  Suddenly wary, Stanford stuttered, "Um, actually, perhaps you could tell me about your diet-"

  "No, no, no! This is a question I know I can answer!" Kenny's voice took on a musical lilt, the sound of it somehow easing just a little of Stanford's reluctance. Besides, hadn't he wanted to study more creatures?  This was a rare opportunity, and the naga had offered. Stanford could always put out any potential fire with the extinguisher he'd hidden in one of the nearby trap doors.

  "Well, alright, what are your abilities?"

  Kenny's smirk returned in full force, and Stanford suppressed the urge to cringe. He was doing this for science, he reminded himself. For science.

  "Well, you see, Stanford...can I call you Ford?"

  "Oh, uh, yes."

  "Well, Ford, us nagas all have one very special ability in common." Kenny chuckled, the force of it rippling all across his coils winding around the branches. Stanford watched, mesmerized at the browns and tans that ebbed and flowed like an ocean of coils.

  "Ah, ah, ah. Eyes over here." Kenny's tail tip gently turned Ford's eyes back to his, amusement coloring his tone.

  Ford blinked himself out of his stupor. "Yes. Sorry. You were saying?"

  "Weeell, nagas have a very useful, very fun ability we just love to use." Kenny sang.

  Ford instinctively leaned closer, now more curious than nervous. "And that is?"

  "This."

  A ring of yellow gently emerged and flowed outward from the center of Kenny's eyes. Then came orange. Then green. Then blue. Back to yellow. Orange. Green. Blue. Yellow.

  Ford gasped softly at the display. "Enchanting." He breathed. "How on earth are you doing...that with...with your...y-your eyes...?" Odd. It was getting a little hard to speak the longer he observed them. His brain would form thoughts, but the patterns would compel them to swirl away into a silvery mist. Some thoughts would reach his mouth, but his tongue was becoming heavy and useless, like he'd downed a whole bottle of red mulled wine.

  Kenny smiled softly, nodding with satisfaction at the colors emerging in his volunteer's eyes. "Magic. Although I've been told by a friend that it's slightly more complicated than that. But what matters is, it feels nice, right?"

  "Y-Yes...it does..." Stanford sighed his agreement, the hand holding his pen going slack at his side. It really was the most wonderful feeling, like any care or worry that had ever crossed his mind just didn't matter anymore. The weight of expectations and responsibilities lifted off his shoulders, and in their place was an intense feeling of relaxation and peace, welcoming him to their cozy little world of lovely colors and rippling coils.

  Ford giggled curiously. "Wazzz...wh-what's...happening?" He should have been writing this down and asking more pressing questions, but his brain may as well have been cotton by this point. Everything felt soft and warm and good.

  Kenny giggled back. "Jussst a taste of my abilities, like you wanted." He tilted his head. Ford's own head followed, glued to his eyes. "You're looking a little sleepy. How bout' a little nap?"

  "Nnn...nap...?" Ford blinked sluggishly, the word sparking a flash of recognition to reignite his sleep addled brain."H-Hold on...jus' a..." It took a painful amount of effort and willpower, so much that his eyes watered, but Ford managed to tear his eyes away from the hypnotic spectacle, taking a moment to rub the drowsy out of them.

  "I...what just..?" He was dazed and dizzy. But he knew just enough to figure that he had to keep his eyes covered.

  Kenny blinked away his hypnosis, startled by the rare show of resistance from a subject. There were few who could resist when they were that far under, but Ford just made the very short list. Even so, he wasn't completely out of the park yet, if his sleepy ramblings were any indication.

  "Aww, hey, what's wrong?" Kenny kept his voice gentle, but couldn't suppress some amusement either. "I thought you wanted to know all about the abilities of the nagas?" He tilted his head, feigning hurt.

  "Of...of course I do, but..." Ford turned away from where he heard the voice, having enough sense to cover his eyes with his arms, but not enough to remember how close he was to Kenny's tree. "I...I need to be-OOF!" He smacked right into it, the shock enough to snap him out of the spell completely.

  He shook the swirls and cobwebs from his head, gritting his teeth and focusing on the pain. "You..." He turned back to where he thought Kenny was, eyes shut tight and pointing accusingly. "You tried to hypnotize me!"

  "Wrong way." The voice to his left snorted playfully.

  Red in the face more from embarrassment than anger, Ford turned in the proper direction. "What do you intend to do, use me as some sort of thrall?! Easy slave labor?!"

  Kenny clapped. "Ha! Much more original than any accusations of eating people! But no." Ford heard a rustling of leaves to his right, and he flinched backwards, into a mass of coils that propped around his shoulders like a friendly arm. "You asked me what nagas could do. I was just showing you the works."

  Stanford stubbornly remained angry. "You could've just told me! Or I could've watched you do it on a gnome, or...I don't recall giving you consent to hypnotize me!"

  Kenny held up his hands in a placating gesture(that Stanford could not see). "Easy there, Ford! You're saying you didn't like it?"

  Ford sputtered indignantly. "I...that's besides the point! I'm doing this for science, not for a...a nap! Can you imagine how many hours of precious research time I'll lose if I sleep?!"

  To his surprise, Kenny's voice took on the slightest bit of concern. "Um, when was the last time you slept?"

  Once again caught off guard, Ford had to gather his thoughts and take a deep breath to answer calmly. "I can handle not sleeping for a few days. What I can't handle is how the world moves on with or without me. Every second of every minute of every hour, something is happening. Creatures to catalogue, reports to write, disputes to diverge! I'm going to change the world with this project! I'll sleep when I'm dead!" Ford had forgotten what calm was by the end of his tirade.

  Still with that aggravating concern he'd often heard from his mother, brother, and Fiddleford, Kenny tutted and gave Ford's shoulders a little squeeze with his coils.

  "That's no way to go, buddy. Everyone needs sleep. Even life changers like you."

  "We're getting off subject." Ford gritted his teeth, trying to breathe evenly. "You showed your ability. Thank you. I'll write all about it in my next volume. Now leave me alone." Eyes still shut, Ford ducked under the coils and felt around for the paper he had dropped during his little spell. Kenny's tail curled around his right wrist, as though dejected by the lack of attention. The six fingered scientist yanked his hand away, cursing quietly when he dropped the pen it'd been holding. "I mean it, Kenny. I've had enough." He snapped.

  "Oh, but you really haven't."

  Maybe it was the cockiness with which the naga said it, but Ford couldn't withhold his curiosity. "What do you mean?"

  "I mean, that I'd only just begun, and you'd only barely felt the full effects of a naga's powers. You resisted, and that just sent everything off kilter. Imagine how much info you could write about if you only knew what it's really like to be hypnotized by a real naga?" Kenny studied his own hands smugly, feigning nonchalance and hoping the anticipation didn't show on his face. He needed a new cuddle buddy after all.

  Wait. Ford's eyes were still closed. What did Kenny have to worry about?

  Ford crossed his arms, tapping a finger against his jacket. Kenny was just using promises of scientific discovery as a lure for another hapless victim, that's all this was.

  Regardless, he did have to know something. "Why do you even want to hypnotize me, anyway? It can't just be because you think I need sleep." Ford huffed.

  Kenny shrugged(Ford could STILL not see it). "I just wanted a cuddle. The fact that you need sleep is serendipitous."

  Stanford had lost count of how many times this naga had had him completely flustered. "That's...that's why you...huh?"

  "Of course! It's what I do. And no, it's not really a naga thing. It's just a Kenny thing." The naga laughed.

  Ford found himself letting his guard down a little at the confession. "That's...really all there is to it?"

  "Mm-hm!" Kenny nodded confidently. "Besides, is losing a few hours to the best sleep you'll ever have really that bad? Think of the discoveries you're missing out on!"

  "W-Well, no, but...cuddle with you? I mean, that's just...uh..." Darn it, he was thinking of the discoveries! What could he be missing by resisting such power? Was sleep all that would happen? Could he dream under the effects of naga hypnosis? How long could a human like himself last before he gave in?

  The questions were leaking through the dam of resistance in his brain. It wasn't long before they'd break free. Not only that, but...it's not like anyone would know about this. There was no one around this area but him and Kenny. Losing a bit of dignity for a few hours couldn't be too bad, could it?

  Slowly, Ford allowed his crossed arms to leave his side. He knelt to the ground, feeling around for a good place to sit.

  "I'll take that as a 'Go ahead'?" Kenny couldn't hide his excitement.

  Hands patting a particularly soft mound of earth, Ford grunted and set himself into an upright sitting position, legs splayed. "Don't try anything stupid." He warned, determined to have as much control over this bizarre circumstance as he could.

  "No problem at all." Kenny giggled. "Now, how 'bout you open your eyes, first."

  Reluctantly, Ford slowly pried his eyes open, squinting against the light of mid-morning. Blinded, it took five seconds for his eyes to adjust the many colors of the day.

  But then, he realized, it wasn't the day he was looking at. It was a now familiar sight of oranges and yellows and...he could barely keep track. They were going at a steady rate, but when he thought he could pick out one color, that one would fade into another, and another, and another...

  Ford squinted, still stubbornly wanting to remain in control. Who said he couldn't monitor the scientific intonations in his head, after all? That way he could do research on the naga's hypnosis without losing any time to useless pastimes like sleeping.

  The colors are reaching a familiar pattern. They ebb and flow like tides of the ocean. One disappears, only to appear just when you've forgotten it existed. Incredible. Dazzling. So very...focus! I hear something. A voice...a song...birds? No. Smoother. Kenny? Is it a lullaby? Trying to make it more challenging? Do your worst. I'm not...sleepy...at...all...Beautiful...So pretty...FOCUS!

  Kenny watched, patiently awaiting Ford's lapse into sleep. One second his swirling eyes would droop, the next they would spring back up as he caught himself growing drowsy. Even when Kenny began to hum a gentle, lulling tune, Ford was putting up a good fight. But if the bags under his eyes told him anything, it was that he really needed a siesta.

  Right. Time for a little coiling.

  Noises of the forest are...fading...easier to focus on Kenny's voice...all that matters...wait. No. I was...I can't...sleep now...not yet...Focus on...ability...

  Getting harder...to fight...melatonin trigger perhaps...so sleepy...yes, must be...mela...the stuff that...makes you...sleep...eyes make it...easy...to sleep...using...colors...lovely colors...

  ...?

  Feeling...heavy...around...waist...

  Indeed, a coil was just starting to inch its way around Ford's abdomen, squeezing in especially tense areas and loosening any aches and pains he had been feeling just seconds before. Around and around the tail went, carefully pinning his arms to his sides, just enough to restrain, not enough to alarm or hurt. The tip continued on upward, reaching over his chest, feeling his slow, steady heartbeat. When the tail reached his shoulders, Kenny used his impressive strength to gently tilt Ford backwards, lying him on the ground, and making sure his hypnotic eyes were always in view.

  ...Warm...Blanket...? No...coils...? So...sleepy...Why was...I...fighting...?

  Kenny grinned over the helpless state Ford was in. His mouth hung open, his lids were periodically shutting and opening out of sync over his still swirling eyes, and his upper body was all wrapped up in his coziest coils. Still, even after all that effort, Ford looked like he need just one more little push. A nudge in the right direction.

  Kenny slowly, slowly, slowly pulled him into the air, so that he hung suspended over the ground, legs dangling with the direction he swayed in. Another loop of coils around his body, and Stanford was covered neck to toe in the warm embrace of a naga hug.

  ...Being..held...so...wonderful...

  Eyes lidded so low he could barely see Kenny's, Ford moaned softly at the sensations of his predicament. He couldn't remember why he had bothered fighting. Actually, he couldn't remember anything outside of his euphoric drowsiness and coil cocoon. Even then, Kenny noticed that his eyes hadn't closed just yet. Continuing his hummed lullaby, Kenny gave the coiled mass a little push, giving it a rocking effect.

  ...back...forth...back...forth...sleepy...so...sleepy...

  I'm...

  Falling...

  Falling...

  F...a...l...l...i...n...g...

  Gentle snores emerged from the cocoon, and Kenny sighed with satisfaction. "That wasn't so bad, was it now?" The tip of his tail closed Ford's mouth, where the snores turned into deep breathing. The coils gradually shifted from horizontal to vertical, so that his cheek was comfortably rested against his scaly bonds.

  Kenny ran a hand through Ford's brown hair, smiling with his usual mischief. "You wouldn't mind sharing your results when you wake up, would you?"

---submitted by b120583

OOC: I love this! :'3 Always nice to see a character like Ford in a situation like this <3

[krystalites]

stationary date with nct dream

genre: fluff all the way

word count: 2.4k

a/n: this popped off when I was planning a stationary date with a friend of mine. Jaemin's part got a bit short cause I kinda forgot about his existence and added it after I lost all my imagination.

⌜ mark ⌟

Between Mark's endless promotions and you studying for your exams, you thought it would be nice to plan a stationary date. You needed new supplies and your boyfriend Mark needed some time to himself.

When you and Mark arrived to the stationary you discovered a few days ago, you noticed that it wasn't as busy as usual. There were only a few people and all that could be heard was soft mumbling of these people along with the soft music playing in the back ground. After making sure Mark was well hidden under his mask, hat and sunglasses combo, the two of you quickly entered the stationary and immediately sprinted towards the rack here the colourful pens were stacked. After minutes of trying out pens and trying to create a nice colour palette, you moved on to the notebooks.

Hours passed by, the sun setting and everybody else leaving. Mark lifted his head from the Oz-Pack's he was checking out and smiled at the sight of you trying to pick out a pencil case. You looked adorable looking from a pencil case to another, examining them carefully so you could choose one of them.

"Come on, I'll buy you both of them." No matter how much you protested, Mark didn't listen and still bought you everything you've put in the little basket the cashier gave you when you first entered the store.

On the way back, you squeezed Mark's hand tightly. "I'm sorry if you didn't have as much as fun as I did." you mumbled quietly. Your boyfriend was quick to shake his head and smile.

"No, I really enjoyed it. It was quite calming actually. We should do it again another time."

⌜ renjun ⌟

The idea was all Renjun. Over the few months, he had grown a habit of keeping a diary. He would sketch stuff, tape random stuff, put stickers and more. When you told him that a bullet journal would look really nice and showed him some pictures, he became really excited. A few days later, he asked you to tag along while going to the stationary to buy the items he needed. Of course, you quickly agreed and took him to a stationary you knew that was pretty popular. By the time you guys got there, it was quite late. Only about an hour left to closing the store, it was almost empty.

You two quickly entered the store and started your little journey of looking for the perfect items. Renjun told you he would go for a more brown-ish look, so you both picked out lots of nude coloured supplies with black ball point pens and stickers. He also got a few sketching pens and markers.

And Renjun being Renjun, he managed to convince you to keep a bullet journal too. So whatever you guys picked for Renjun, you quickly bought them too and left the store minutes before closing. Not wanting to end the night, you quickly went to a convenience store nearby and bought a few drinks. You went to a park, sat on the picnic tables and started to decorate your journals.

You had finished earlier, leaving a bit more place for writing and less for decorations. You wrote something inside the journal, left it open and started napping with your arms under your head. Renjun smiled at the sight of you sleeping and noticed that your journal was open. He took it to close it, yet didn't when he saw what was scribbled inside. Instead, he smiled and leaned forward to plant a kiss on your hair.

Words weren't enough to express his endless and pure love to you.

Dear Diary,

I love Renjun.

⌜ jeno ⌟

Jeno was the perfect boyfriend, quite literally. He was caring, gentle, sweet, handsome, funny and all. But most importantly, he never forgot anything you said. Never. In your whole relationship of 3,5 years he never forgot anything you said. Including you telling him about how you ran out of school supplies over face time a few months ago.

Which is how you ended up in front of a stationary you mentioned to your boyfriend over a week ago. He pulled you in, walking over to the yearly agendas to get you the alpaca one you always wanted. Whatever you mentioned to him on that face time, he found all of them. He also payed for them, after you made him promise to let you pay when he wanted to buy something.

After the two of you exited the store and went back to the dorms, you quickly walked over to his shared room with Jaemin. Thankfully he wasn't at the dorm. You quickly pushed your boyfriend on the bed, climbing on his lap and squeezing the hell out of him. He laughed and kissed your forehead, hugging you back.

"Thanks for remembering everything I say, Jeno. You have no idea how loved that makes me feel." you mumbled quietly. He opened his mouth to say something, but you quickly put your pointer finger on his lips. "Let me continue. Seeing how much you care for me makes me really happy and I think that we could actually have a long and beautiful future ahead of us." you leaned to your bag sitting a few inches away from the two of you. You quickly pulled out a box out of the bag and threw the bag to its old place. You opened the box and pulled out two rings. Jeno's eyes widened as the realisation hit him.

"Which is why I'm giving you this promise ring. One day, when we're sure we can come out to the whole world, I'm going to marry you. Until then, let's keep these rings as a promise."

Jeno talked to his manager later that day, telling him that both him and you were ready to go public.

⌜ haechan ⌟

Donghyuck hadn't left you alone in days, clinging on you like a koala. You had come from your hometown to Seoul for two weeks. Your boyfriend missed you like crazy over the months, being in a long distance relationship could be hard sometimes. There were only a few days left, after flying back to your hometown you were going to start your spring quarter of the school year. A friend of yours who used to lived in Seoul had told you about a certain stationary, mentioning cute pens and school supplies you couldn't find in your hometown.

When you asked Donghyuck if he wanted to tag along, he whined and whined until you managed to convince him. You needed him anyways, you still had difficulties in speaking and understanding Korean.

"Do we really have to do this? You only have a few days left, I want to cuddle with you! And more..." He pouted and crossed his arms on his chest. When you finally arrived at the stationary, he entered it unwillingly but you know the mighty power of Stationaries. As soon as he stepped in, he was amazed by the environment and the beautiful supplies and before you knew it he was more excited than you.

After an hour of wandering in the stationary and picking out stuff, the store started to get busy. Considering you had to keep Donghyuck's existence there as a secret, both of you quickly payed and ran out. Giggling like high school girls, you two exited the store and called a cab. While waiting, you two compared the stuff you bought. You had bought all the stuff you were planning to buy and he bought a notebook and a bunch of pens to write lyrics.

The first song he wrote was a love song for you and only you, waiting to be shared to the whole world with only the two of you knowing the meaning behind it.

⌜ jaemin ⌟

When Jaemin came up to you with an idea of a gaming journal, you couldn't say no. He wanted create a little booklet filled with all the games he's ever played, along with ratings and comments about them. He was very enthusiastic about video games, always finding something new to play. Sometimes he would come over to your place to play games with you, or simply teach you how to play one.

The two of you met up at the stationary close your school, as it was in a less busier area. While there, he also declared that this meet up was actually a date. While he was looking at the stuff he wanted to buy, you tried out different pens. Noticing a little white board and a few colourful white board markers, you quickly bought them so you could use them for studying. You had to start revising for your exams in a few days. When you were done, you fund Jaemin in the huge store, now just following him around. He bought different coloured markers and pens and a black notebook. He also got copies of some game covers to stick on each page.

When the two of you got back to the dorms, you quickly pulled a chair next to his table where his small set up was. Placing your newly-bought items on the desks free space. You quickly began sticking the covers on each page, writing the games name and general information, how it ended, on what platform he played etc. At the very bottom, there were Jaemin's comments and a rating he gave. The first few pages were done, and you two were actually very proud of yourselves. It looked really good! Jaemin thanked you and gave you little kisses all over your face. After finishing showering you with kisses, he told you he'd play games with his friends. You quickly climbed on his lap and snuggled into him, burying your face in the crook of his neck with your legs swinging on his sides.

Jaemin smiled at the way you were cuddling with him and shook his head to the sides. He gave you a little kiss on the temple and started playing.

"Thank you sweetheart. You make me really happy by showing interest in my interests."

⌜ chenle ⌟

Chenle had bought you a few last minute plane tickets , and yes multiple tickets, because he wanted you to fly all around the world with him for Dream's world tour. He made you so happy, proving that he doesn't want to be away from you for that long.

When he came home and told you about the tickets, your first idea was to create a small photo album. Though, you didn't want it to be simple. You wanted small details, which is why you were at the stationary now, trying to decide if you wanted to decorate the album with blue-ish colours or pink-ish colours. The items were laid on a small rack in the store, in a less busier part of it.

The date idea was both yours and Chenle's. You wanted him to come with you, he wanted it to be a date. And the closest place where this date could take place was the stationary a few blocks away from his house.

"I think we should go with pink." Chenle said after a very long silence. "The album cover is cream coloured, and pink would go better with that." Imagining what it would look like, you agreed with him. You bought a bunch of pink ink pens, Stabilo's and Signo's. You bought a few black pens and markers too. Chenle insisted on buying pink post-it's too, so you also bought them. Even though the two of you were done with the shopping, you still looked around and bought some stuff for the next school year.

Hours passed by in the little store. You found your boyfriend in the very back of the store, checking out agendas. You tapped his shoulder with a little smile, and let out a loud laugh when he flinched.

"Calm down, Lele. It's just me." He pouted and flicked your forehead gently. "You scared me! Are we going home?" He asked and rubbed his eyes. He was feeling sleepy. Something he does whenever he feels like he could sleep at the spot. "You look tired. I think we should." With your answer, you exited the store hand in hand.

Later that night, right before falling asleep, Chenle whispered something in your ear.

"I can't wait to travel like this with you, I hope we can do it with our children sometime in the future."

And you did it.

⌜ jisung ⌟

To say Jisung was freaked out would be an understatement. The first day of school was tomorrow, and he hadn't bought any school supplies. He called you last minute, rambling something about going to the stationary with him because you had a lot of "knowledge about pens and everything. You being the amazing significant other you are, quickly agreed and got ready.

After meeting Jisung in front of the stationary and making a list of everything that needs to be bought, you quickly got to work. Files, copy papers, scissors, pens, erasers and whatever else you need for school. You bought a few stuff for his locker too, so he could decorate it. You got copies of all the necessary papers and forms, quickly putting them all in a file you bought from the store.

Almost an hour later, you were finished. You quickly went to the dorms together to organize all of the stuff you had bought. While sticking the name tags on the notebooks, Jisung looked up at you ,who was sitting on his bed, and smiled gently. After watching you carefully write Park Jisung on each tag both in Hangul and Romanisation for a few minutes, he finally spoke up.

"Hey Y/N..?" You turned your head to him and tilted your head to the side. "Yeah, 'Sungie?" He blushed at the simple nickname, despite having heard it for almost a million times. It really affected him that much. "I wanted to thank you for helping me out today. I'm sorry I asked you to come over just like that, but I couldn't have finished all of this so soon without you." You chuckled and finished tagging your last item, quickly jumping on his bed, right next to him. You pulled him on your chest by pushing his head on it. Jisung smiled and wrapped his arms around your waist.

This was his happy place.

[shirtlessfelix]

I've honestly been eating up everything youve written, its so much fun to read! Can i request pyramid head × fem!reader who is very naive and shy, and Ph has taken a liking to them? Reader is an artist and really enjoys drawing Ph, completely unembarrassed to call him her muse/inspiration, enthralled by his form (is too shy to admit attraction but this? She can do) sfw... and nsfw 👉👈

AAA I'm so glad 🥰It's fun to write!! Did a full piece instead of headcanons so it's like, suggestive into some dirty dirty, so here u go!! I hope u enjoy 👉👈

[M] Her Muse

NSFW 641 words

It's very possible that you're the only survivor who doesn't get bored in between trials since your nose is always on a piece of paper with a pen or pencil drawing a new version of the Executioner. The others think it's strange that you insist that he has a perfect frame, that every muscle on his body should be seen at every angle in every medium you can get your hands on, but your art is the one thing you aren't shy about.

Pyramid Head is the one "person" you enjoy drawing the most, and you're always proud of your unreferenced portraits. They're all so gritty and powerful like him, and every work inflates his ego to the point where he's looking at your art every second that he can, but only the pieces he knows about. You hide more intimate versions of him hidden in the lockers where he might come across them, but he hasn't seen any yet.

He does, however, see them when he's right on your tail in a room of tightly-spaced lockers; not quite chasing you since he has no plans of hurting you. He hasn't done so for the last few trials against him. He's too flattered, too self-absorbed to hurt the person who makes such beautiful artwork of him as he stands powerfully at the end of a corridor, or grasping onto chains in the courtyard, or completely in the nude against a doorframe with his—

Wait, what?

He's taken aback when you run past a locker and it flies open, a stash of your more secretive works scattering all over the floor. Clumsy sketches without the shirt on his garb, or just a loincloth hiding what can only be his lengthy muscle underneath. When you realize what happened, you gasp and stand back, your eyes wide open with a sudden fear that you've made him angry and that he'll stop showing you mercy in a heartbeat.

Lucky for you, that isn't the case, and he looks down to get a better idea of what it is you really think of him. "It's not what you think," you try to tell him. "It's just, your form is so nice to look at, you know, you're like a statue—"

The thundering clang of his knife hitting the floor cuts you off, and he walks you up against a wall of lockers, his bare chest moving closer and farther away from you with his heavy breaths. You're nervous, praying that he won't be offended, your eyes reluctantly glancing further down to the bulge in his robe.

He takes your hand gently and holds your palm against him, letting you rub his bulge through the thick, tightly-wrapped fabric, as his breaths get heavier and he watches you sternly. He grunts, you look up to ask him for further approval, and he moves your hand once again to the hem, where you struggle to pull the fabric down. Once you finally get it, you see that his body is much more than you'd imagined.

He's still flaccid when you take his member out for the first time, but it stiffens as you rub and examine its shape, stimulating a part of him that the Entity never does. Just looking at it turns you on, taunting you in its perfection, and you can tell you'll have a clear image left behind in your head for later.

The blush across your cheeks tells him how you really feel and what you want, and his hand suddenly rubbing between your legs induces a moan you've been holding in for a long time. Part of you is relieved that he hadn't found your pieces depicting everything you want him to do to you, but another part is disappointed; maybe he'd have gone along with it...

Maybe he'll do more with you anyway.

[peachywrite]

Unpleasant Pleasantries

Rohan Kishibe x JosukeSister!Reader

Trigger Warning: inappropriate stand use, mild suggestive themes

Rohan thought this to be the perfect opportunity to get back at that imbecile with the hair of a 60’s delinquent, but instead found something more fulfilling than revenge.

It was your first time meeting the famous mangaka, but Koichi insisted that you introduce yourself to the newly found stand user as a formality.

~

“It’s better to make friends than enemies, y/n! So please do this for me.” He begged, clasping his hands tightly together as he bowed.

“Koichi-chan, he ripped out pages from your face and tried to do the same to Okuyasu and Josuke. I don’t know if I trust this guy.” You sighed, nervous and even a little scared.

“It’ll be fine, when you tell him you’re related to Josuke, he won’t even think about trying anything!” Koichi’s eyes glistened, still silently begging you to go.

“Fine, but if I don’t show up back home in an hour, call Josuke please.” Koichi nodded enthusiastically, shouting thank yous while he ran off to find your brother.

~

Thanks to the written address Koichi had given you, it was easy to find the large Victorian mansion that belonged to the isolated artist.

“Come on, y/n. You can do this. Just a quick hello and you’re done.” You tried to psych yourself up, taking one last deep breath before approaching the walkway that led up to the door.

Knock Knock

You waited, your heart rate a bit too quick for your liking.

You could hear the steps on the other side slowly approaching and suddenly stopping, only to find the door creak by.

“Now who would be disrupting the Great Rohan Kishibe?” The man spoke in a sinister tone, swinging the door open.

Rohan Kishibe looked nothing like how you expected him to. He was built slim but still toned, his green hair neatly styled and face slim and sharp with a cute dolphin bandage placed on the bridge of his nose. His green eyes stared at you intently, as if he was trying to analyze your face as well.

“I-I’m really sorry I didn’t mean to cause you any trouble. My friend Koichi wanted me to introduce myself. I’m Y/N Higashikata. I’m a stand user and I go to school with the rest of the boys.” You stammer out, guilt hitting you for interrupting the presumably busy manga artist.

The man eyed you with a devilish smirk, clapping his hands together like he had discovered something amusing.

“You’re Josuke’s little sister! Oh how fun! You know, you’re too cute to be related to that boy. Now please come in, I’ll make you some tea and we can talk.”

“I’m actually the same age as him, and I’d love to join you but I got... study plans with K-Koichi!” You tried to avoid his stare but as he made eye contact, you knew you had lost.

“Nonsense! I’ll give him a call and let him know you’ll be studying with me, now please come in already.” His smile grew while he pulled you into his abode by your wrists.

The house was lightly decorated with manga related memorabilia on the wood carved shelves and many original panels from famous mangas hung framed on the soft toned walls, but the home still held a grand Victorian feeling to it.

Your original unease disappeared as you took in the grandeur of the mansion and the interesting items that adorned it so carefully. Rohan smirked at the curiosity in your eyes and the quick movements they made while you focused on specific areas of his home.

“Would you like a personal tour of the property before we study? I will warn you though, not all the rooms have been styled by yours truly yet. It’s a work in progress at the moment.” The smile he bared had you suspicious again, but you didn’t want to be rude to the owner of such a magnificent estate.

“As much as I would love to, your home is absolutely stunning, I sadly only have an hour to study. My mom would kill me if I got home late again.” A hefty sigh escaped your lips and you gave him your best upset expression you could muster.

You hoped he wouldn’t key in on your lying, remembering the warning Koichi had given you about his ability to discern genuine emotions from fake ones.

The mangaka squinted his eyes for a moment, causing your heartbeat to speed up substantially, but his face returned to its usual smile that you swore held a bit of deviousness underneath.

“Oh! it’s alright, dear. I understand. I’ll save it for your next visit. Let’s get to your work now, follow me to the kitchen. I’ll prepare us something and you can take a seat by the window.” He gently took your hand, guiding you to the kitchen and carefully pulling out a seat for you at his dining room table.

A beautiful bouquet set in a hand sculpted vase caught your interest on the table as Rohan busied himself with brewing a fresh pot of tea. The flowers were bright in color compared to the muted ones of the vase, but the contrast made both appear unique and appealing to the eye.

“I see you even appreciate the smaller details of a home. Though I am a mangaka, I do dabble in other forms of artistic expression. Take pottery for example, I glazed this vase in a muted color pallet so it could stand out on its own when beautifully bright flowers were placed in it. The two compliment each other nicely, don’t they?” He set down two tea cups and began to pour.

“Yes! And I especially love the bright purples in the lillies you picked here.” You gently touched a petal, Rohan now lightly tapping his cheek, pulling out a chair for himself to sit right beside you.

His closeness and unwavering gaze brought a heaviness to your chest, making you stumble over your words.

“Um-m thank you for treating me so well and letting me study in your home, Rohan-sensei.” You began to unpack your notes and textbook, Rohan scooting closer to analyze what you had written.

“No need to thank me, my dear. Now let’s get to your studies. What is it you need to work on today?” The smile he shares with you is comforting, but you can’t help but feel like he was plotting something.

You set your pencil bag down and prepare your notebook, trying to make yourself busy by setting up.

“Biology. I’ve only just recently started going to school in person, but I tested well enough to be placed in the highest class. Today we’re supposed to label all the organs in this frog drawing.” Your tone comes off as annoyed and Rohan picks up on it, tilting his head to the side while he reads your frog diagram.

“You aren’t a fan of biology? I’ve got a few anatomy sketches of animals you could use instead of this photocopied worksheet. Maybe that will help peak your interest?” He stands and saunters out to find his sketches, leaving you alone in the kitchen.

When Rohan returns, the two of you work on your Biology homework for about an hour, finishing the entire pot of tea in the process. You found out that Rohan was quite skilled at anatomy, having an entire sketchbook dedicated to the anatomy of many living things, including the likes of frogs and flowers. He was extremely helpful and fun to talk with.

As you packed up your bag, Rohan remained seated in his chair, playing with one of the lilies from the bouquet. You weren’t sure if you should head towards the door and leave Rohan or wait for him to stand and lead you out. You were about to speak when the mangaka interrupted with a swish of his pen in your direction.

“Heaven’s Door.”

You felt a sharp shove of air to your midsection, sending you onto the floor. Every movement you attempted was futile as the grinning artist looked down at you. A deep chuckle haunted you while he leaned in closer to your face. His hands gently caressed your cheek, opening it up like a book.

“I’m sorry, y/n. You’re interesting and I’d love to learn more about you, but I’m impatient. It’ll be far easier for me to just read you. Don’t fret, my dear. I’ll make sure you don’t remember this.” He flipped through your pages, ignoring the tears that ran down onto the very paper he was trying to read.

“Now let’s just read the juicy bits today. You were hospitalized along with your brother when you were only four, a strange parasite made up of Dio’s cells attacked your immune system at age twelve and had you bedridden until fairly recently.” The curiosity he held for your story excited him, the pen he held in one hand quickly wrote onto the notepad he placed on the floor beside your head.

You felt like sinking into yourself, ignoring his quips and teases as the embarrassment of the mangaka reading your thoughts and feelings enveloped you. It wasn’t fair. Why did he have to be this way? He was so kind before and just like a flick of a switch, he changed.

“Oh, now how did you escape that? Here we are, thanks to Mr.Joestar’s Hamon lessons, you not only came back from your illness, but gained a proper stand and the ability to wield Hamon just like your father and great grandfather! Wait, what’s this new paragraph about?” He squinted closely, reading your page out loud again.

“I have to visit Rohan Kishibe today because Koichi told me to. He practically begged. Even though I’m scared, Koichi gave me his word that nothing bad would happen. Rohan Kishibe looks very different from what I imagined a mangaka to look. Well, what did you expect me to look like?” His smirk grows as he continues on.

“Ah, another new bit is here! Rohan Kishibe is very good at anatomy, he’s been kind and helpful, I’d like to get to know him better. I think Josuke was just overreacting when he called Rohan Kishibe pure evil. I could see us being friends.”

His smile disappears skimming the next sentence, his usual tone of voice changed as he starts to read. He sounded upset, hurt even.

You were the one being wronged here! Why would he get upset? He doesn’t have the right.

“Josuke was right. Rohan Kishibe is not nice, he is terribly mean. He’s using me for his entertainment. He doesn’t care. Rohan Kishibe is not kind, he is not helpful, he is cruel, I don’t want to get to know him. I want to forget him.”

“I hate Rohan Kishibe. I hope to never see him again.”

Rohan paused, looking away from your pages, trying to focus on anything else for the moment.

“W-well, I’ll just fix this last paragraph and erase it from your mind. You’re being dramatic, I’m not as terrible as you describe me.” Chuckling to himself, he tries to laugh off his obvious pain and attempts to regain his composure.

“No! I won’t let you erase my emotions!” You shouted, a wave of Hamon spreading through his arm as his pen touched your page, his attempt to rewrite your memory foiled.

The mangaka was sent flying back, his right arm dropping the pen and your face finally shutting closed, returning your ability to move. Although you were upset at the betrayal of trust you gave the man, you felt a twinge of guilt in your heart when you spotted his still form draped across the wood floor, cradling the arm you had burned with your Hamon.

Running to his side, all thoughts of malice left your body while you attempted to get a better look at his injury. His arm was still intact thankfully, but it was badly burned and needed to be set correctly and quickly if he ever wanted it to heal properly. You took a deep breath and turned Rohan over to see if he was still conscious.

“Oh god, Rohan I’m so sorry. I don’t know what happened.” Your eyes fill with tears again as you see the artist weakly rest himself against the wall, still holding his arm close to his chest.

“No, no it’s alright. I brought this on myself. I accept that.” He grimaced, trying to take a peek at his injuries but too frightened to actually check.

“You read my thoughts and history, it wasn’t right but you didn’t physically hurt me. I don’t know how that happened, but I promise you I’ll fix it.” You swore to the manga writer, now searching through your backpack.

When you found your pair of scissors, you went into full first aid mode, removing the sleeve from his right arm by carefully cutting the loose cloth off. After tossing the short sleeve to the side, you cut the bottom of the skirt you were wearing off into a long bandage-like shape of clothing and ran it under the cold tap water from the kitchen sink, returning to the injured Rohan.

“I’m going to wrap your arm with this, it won’t be painful if you let me use my stand, but I’m going to ask you first before I use her on you.” The man nodded, accepting your offer to erase the pain.

“Under Pressure. She’s a stand that has the ability to manipulate emotions. She can change them within a radius or focus on only one individual. When she focuses on a single person, she is only able to change their emotion to the opposite of what is being felt.” You began to wrap his arm, nervous about what he might feel when you placed the wet fabric loosely around it.

All Rohan could do was bite back his lip to avoid making any embarrassing sounds. Instead of the immeasurable pain he imagined to come with dressing a freshly burned wound, he felt a wave of euphoria. He now understood what you meant by the “opposite” emotion would be felt.

The artist never knew wrapping his burned arm would feel so good, every touch caused his breath to hitch in his throat and his eyes to water. It confused him, even though he understood that the opposite of pain was pleasure, it still startled him every time you did one more pass of the homemade bandage.

He tried his hardest not to be flustered, but when you finished off his arm by tieing the last bit with a knot, he let a small whimper escape his lips. His hand shot up to cover his face, it’s hue now a bright crimson.

Your cheeks turned bright pink as well. You turned away swiftly, to avoid eye contact.

“U-Um just stay put. I’m gonna borrow your phone for a second and let you catch your breath.” Scratching the side of your cheek, you stand up and make a b-line for the phone, dialing your home and hoping that Josuke would pick up. You glanced at the clock set on the wall, it read 8:15.

I’m late.

As soon as the phone line rang once, you spotted the front door to Rohan’s manor fly across the main hall. Peeking your head out from the kitchen, you see a furious Josuke with Koichi in pursuit.

“ROHAN-SENSEI! WHERE IS MY SISTER YOU CREEP?! SHE WAS SUPPOSED TO BE HOME 15 MINUTES AGO!” He yells out, his voice echoing throughout the home.

“Josuke! I’m here! I was just about to call you. Listen, I messed up bad and hurt Rohan. He’s in the kitchen bandaged up but I need you to heal him all the way.” You run to Josuke, giving him a tight hug while trying not to cry from the stress of the situation.

Josuke squeezes you once and let’s you go, looking you over from head to toe so he could make sure you weren’t injured as well. When he spots your torn skirt, his aura radiates a dark malice you’d never seen him show before.

“Wait Josuke! I did this to myself, we didn’t have bandages so I cut some cloth.”

He looks you over again and sighs heavily, the purple hue that was full of rage, leaving him.

“Ok, fine. Where’s that jerk? I’ll fix him up real quick so we can go home.” He grumbled, following you into the kitchen.

Even though Rohan wanted to refuse any treatment from Josuke, he finally accepted the help when you threatened to cry on the spot. His arm had returned to its previous state, unburned and fully functional, thanks to Josuke and Shining Diamond.

Josuke picked up your backpack and held the now fixed front door open for you, while Rohan stood and waved goodbye. You awkwardly returned the wave and made your way back home, your thoughts chaotic and confused.

On the one hand you felt guilty for putting Rohan through such an immense amount of pain, but you were also upset at the humiliation he put you through by reading your life with Heaven’s Door. These thoughts plagued your mind as you laid your head to rest for the night.

~

It was roughly two in the afternoon when Rohan Kishibe knocked on your front door. A short but older woman answered, complaining about the loudness of the knocks when she looked over the artist.

“Oh, my apologies. You’re that Rohan Kishibe my kids talk about. How may I help you, Mr. Kishibe?” She asked with a warm tone to her voice, leaning against her door frame and smiling up at him.

“Is y/n in? I’d like to deliver this to her personally.” He spoke softly, shaking the box he held in his hands.

Your mother couldn’t help but chuckle to herself. He appeared to be anxious and uncomfortable, most likely it was his first time gifting something like this.

“She’s not home yet, but give her five minutes. Why don’t you come in? You can wait for her up in her room, just don’t go raiding her drawers or anything.” She joked, Rohan’s cheeks turning vivid scarlet.

“I’m only pulling your leg, sweety. I know you’re better than that. Now come on! Have a seat at her desk and I’ll bring you up some lemonade.” Rohan followed her inside.

When they reached your room, Mrs.Higashikata opened the door and waved her hand to your desk seat.

“Pull up that chair there and I’ll be back with some refreshments.” Her smile gleamed at him. She walked off to the kitchen, leaving the artist alone in your room.

Rohan browsed around your room, taking in the personality that was apparent by the many bits of decor that gave your little private space a peculiar style. Your walls held photos printed on Polaroid film, sketches presumably drawn by you, and posters of your favorite video games and shows.

When he glanced around your room, he was immediately caught off guard when he spotted two volumes of his very own manga, propped up and on display in your bookcase. To say he was flattered was an understatement, he was completely floored. You were a fan of his?

His heart was heavy all of a sudden, he felt a dreadful pain in his chest while he held the book in his hands. He turned his head toward the doorway when he heard your voice greet your mother. To regain himself, he quickly skimmed through the pages of the manga he was holding, hearing your distant conversation come to an end.

You entered the room. Dropping your bag at the corner of the closet, your eyes never leaving Rohan while you take a seat on your bed. The mangaka gently placed your copy of Pink Dark Boy back in its original position, turning around now to face you.

“I’d like to humbly apologize for my abhorrent behavior and actions yesterday. I was terrible. I know it might be asking too much of you, but I brought you this as a peace offering. I want us to start over. I’d like to get to know you the right way.” He passes you the box he was carrying with him, nudging you to open it.

Casually unknotting the bow and removing the lid from the bottom, you slowly lift what appears to be a white sundress out of the box. It was beautifully made and looked to be just your size.

“I know it’s not the skirt you tore, but I felt like you deserved something a little more unique.” He averts your gaze quickly when you attempt to gauge his reaction.

The mangaka appears to be flustered, apparently not very used to apologizing. His eyes held a fear of rejection but also a glimmer of hope. A breath you never knew you were holding was released with a quiet hum.

“It’s beautiful, thank you, but do know that buying me things isn’t going to repair my trust in you. We can at the very least start over though.”

Rohan smiled to himself, thankful for your empathetic nature, and nodded a quick yes.

“Now that the pleasantries are out of the way, how about we take that dress and enjoy some tea at the cafe? My treat.”

[the-gay-prometheus]

Frankenstein AU Segment - “Willful Disobedience”

Clervalstein yearning goes brrrrrrr

Anyways- uh... so as I said at the beginning of pride month, my goal for June is to write at least one directly Clervalstein related AU segment each week because gay. 

This time around, I was inspired to write about the events that led to how Henry would eventually find Victor and the Creature on the mountain, so in terms of timeline, this takes place before all segments I’ve written except for “Home Again” and “Same Scars, Same Stitches.”

A couple of fun little tidbits about the making of this segment (feel free to skip over them and get right to the segment below the cut, this is just me rambling about some inspiration):

1. The whole bit with Victor drawing and the Creature mimicking him by drawing as well was somewhat inspired by the “Forbidden Friendship” scene from How to Train Your Dragon. I listened to that specific track from the movie score a few times while I was in the process of thinking about this idea!

2. Another bit of musical inspiration actually came from the Chronicles of Narnia, specifically the track “Evacuating London” from The Lion, The Witch, and The Wardrobe. If you time it just right and you’re somebody who can actively read and listen to music at the same time, it should somewhat line up with the last few paragraphs (excluding Henry’s bit at the end) - starting at where Victor says “I’d give anything-”, then with the little piano part being timed with the paragraph that starts with “It was intricately detailed-”, then the major swell in that half of the song should line up with the paragraph where the Creature begins feeling the need to disobey Victor’s most important rules; then comes the part that begins with a bit of bells and eventually vocalization, and that entire half of the track should align with the Creature carrying out his plan at least most of the way. Of course - all of this depends on your reading speed, but I would definitely recommend listening to the song after reading at least and imagining those parts of the segment along with it if you’re interested in a little peek into my crazy writing process! 😅

Anyways- this is another wholesome segment, so no warnings needed to my knowledge!

As always, all likes, reblogs, and comments of any kind are welcomed, encouraged, and appreciated!

~~~

Sunlight warmed the cold stone of the mountain ridge upon which Victor sat. His sleeves were rolled up on his arms, as the heat from the summer sun was felt much more intensely up on the mountain top despite the cool alpine breeze. Heavy clouds capped the peaks beyond though the sky was primarily a clear blue, and mist drifted through the valleys below. Though the view was magnificent, the sketchbook that sat on Victor’s knee contained no trace of the mountains. His eyes darted from the open page to the horizon, but it wasn’t the horizon he was searching for. As he stared over the peaks beyond, it wasn’t the view itself he focussed on, and instead an image that was clear in his mind. With a slight smile at the thought, he turned his gaze back down to the page and continued his sketching. It wasn’t long before the smile faded as the sound of quiet, careful footfalls upon the stone broke the calm silence, and he became aware of a presence directly beside him. He instinctively scooted himself about a half inch away as the other figure slowly sat at his side, his brow furrowed as he tried to concentrate harder on his sketching. “What are you doing?” came the inquisitive voice of his creation, and he felt the looming figure lean over in an attempt to view what he was drawing. With a further frown, Victor covered over his sketch with his other hand and turned away.

“Last I checked, that was none of your business,” he grumbled in reply. The creature tried to get a better look, but Victor’s hand covered over too much of it for him to be able to see. He sat there for a moment longer, his mind wandering and his gaze flitting about from view to view as he tried to decide what it was he should do. Now that the cabin was finally completed, he found himself with a lack of activities to keep him busy, and though his creator was certainly better company now than he had been when he first arrived to the mountain, he still wasn’t much of a conversationalist and was often preoccupied with his own thoughts or projects. Out of ideas, he hummed something softly to himself, some tune he had once heard Victor singing one day many weeks ago. Victor lifted his eyes at the sound and glanced over at him, but the moment the creature returned his gaze, he rolled his eyes and shook his head, turning back to his sketching. Quieting himself at his creator’s reaction, the creature sighed and stood, walking back toward the cabin. Victor almost felt bad - almost - but he kept drawing, now absentmindedly humming the same tune. After a few minutes, he became distracted by the sound of footsteps once again, but this time the creature sat a ways away from him. He went quiet, trying to ignore his creation and keep his focus, but he heard the scratching of another pen on paper, then a pause, then more scratching, and he felt himself being watched. With an exasperated sigh, Victor dropped his pen beside him and looked over to the creature. “What on earth are you doing?” The creature looked up at him, his expression blank.

“Last I checked, that was none of your business,” he answered matter-of-factly. Victor stared at him a moment, then frowned.

“Back talking me? That’s new.” The creature blinked, but didn’t answer, instead turning back down to the piece of paper that lay on his knee and continuing to draw something on it. Now thoroughly curious, Victor stood, walking over to him and standing behind him to look over his shoulder. The creature made no efforts to hide his drawing, and Victor could clearly see the rough beginnings of a person sitting in the exact same pose he had been sitting in. “Are you… drawing me drawing Henry?”

“Ah, so you were drawing someone named Henry.” Victor blushed furiously.

“Oh you sly bastard,” he muttered. The creature glanced up at him. “How clever of you, to get an answer out of me like that.”

“That was not my intention, but I cannot say I am disappointed by the result,” the creature responded simply. Victor sighed, sitting down beside him before flopping dramatically onto his back. Now trying to think based on memory, the creature gazed off into the distance before looking down at his paper and continuing to draw. “May I ask who this Henry person is?” he asked as he drew. “I hear you speak the name often. He must be of great importance to you.” Victor wanted to be angry. He wanted to tell his creation to mind his own business and stop prying into his personal life, and yet… he couldn’t be angry - not while Henry was the topic of the conversation, anyway.

“Henry is… was my…” He paused, carefully thinking about how to choose his words, “closest friend.” There was a length of silence as he felt an ache in his chest from the thought of Henry, and the creature took a moment away from his drawing before returning to it.

“Tell me about him,” he suggested as he sketched. Victor sucked in a deep breath and exhaled slowly, holding his sketch of Henry over his heart as he stared into the sky.

“Where to even begin with him,” Victor uttered quietly.

“Describe him to me.” Victor lifted his sketch up and stared at it, before holding it out to the creature. The creature glanced up, and looked at it with a curious expression. Victor gave him a curt nod, signaling that he was welcome to inspect it closer, so he gently took it from Victor’s hand and inspected it closely.

“He’s tall, but not too tall - just tall enough that I have to look up in order to look into his eyes. And he’s always well dressed - I don’t think there’s ever been a day when he wasn’t looking his best, though I suppose I might be a bit biased on that.” For a moment he wondered just how much further he should go with his description. How could he describe someone like Henry without giving his true feelings away? He hesitated, then sighed with a smile. His creation already knew one of his secrets, and, after all, it wasn’t like he was going anywhere or seeing anyone else, so what harm was there in completely venting his thoughts? “He has the most thoughtful hazel eyes, toffee brown around the edges and streaked with emerald green that deepens toward the pupils, the kind of eyes you could get lost in if you stared for too long.” The creature’s pen went still and he looked up toward the horizon, trying to imagine what Victor was describing. “And his hair is long - not quite so long as yours, but ends just past his shoulders - and lays in tangled waves always kept tied back, though a few strands never fail to set themselves free. When the sun hits it just right, I could swear it was made of fire,” Victor breathed as he pictured it in his mind. “It’s the kind of brilliant auburn that takes your breath away, that seems to gleam with its own radiant light. Sometimes I swear he’s more angel than man, and perhaps if angels do exist, he may well be one of them.” The creature smiled, but the smile soon faded as his mind drifted to Paradise Lost and further to his past. He blinked the thought away, then turned his eyes back down to his art, setting Victor’s drawing of Henry down at his side. “He’s covered with what must be thousands of freckles, mostly concentrated on his cheeks but they expand over his face and at the very least his arms, chest, and back. I would liken them to… dark stars against a bright sky,” Victor explained. He raised an arm up and began tracing lines in the air as he continued. “I used to try to find constellations among them, and sometimes I thought I nearly could. Orion, Andromeda, Lepus, Lynx, Pegasus, Phoenix, Vulpecula,” he muttered each constellation as he imagined himself tracing the lines between freckles on Henry’s skin, his chocolate brown eyes seeming to light up with wonder as he grew to be lost in his own imagination.

“He barely sounds real,” the creature interjected nonchalantly, hardly looking up from his drawing as he began to focus closer on it. Victor grinned and chuckled softly.

“I tell myself that every day,” he murmured with a hint of sarcasm. “Surely no man could ever be so perfect, and yet there he is-” He paused, reaching higher toward the sky and extending his fingers to feel the breeze between them, “as real as you and I.” His hand dropped back down to his chest as he heaved a sigh. “There’s no man on earth as generous or as compassionate as my-” He stopped himself, blushing hard as he realized what it was he was about to say. “As Henry, I mean. Just… just Henry.” The scratching of the creature’s pen stopped again, and Victor glanced over at him to see him staring ahead in clear contemplation of the implications of his words before returning to his art. “You know,” Victor began, returning his eyes to the sky. “I can just about guarantee that if it were Henry who made you instead of me, you would have turned out ok.” The weight of his words hadn’t set in before he said them, but now that they were out, they sat heavy on his chest like lead. It took him a moment, but he sucked in a ragged breath and exhaled unsteadily. “If it were him instead of me, William would still be alive.” At those words, the creature froze, as rather than a weight to him they felt like a dagger slowly piercing between his ribs and etching each letter directly onto his beating heart. “And to think… Even if it wasn’t him who made you, if it were him who found you here, perhaps your night terrors would have all but ceased by now. And maybe, by his grace, you would be at peace.” They sat in contemplative silence, both somehow altogether calmed and unnerved in each other's presence. “I’d give just about anything for him to be here,” Victor mentioned, breaking the silence and lifting himself up onto his hands. “And I know all it would take is one letter. He’d drop everything to come here. But that’s… that’s just it. That’s the problem.” He sighed, fully sitting upright. The creature glanced over at him. “I can’t let him just… ruin the rest of his life for me. I don’t know how I could live with myself knowing that I held him back because of my own mistakes.” His eyes dropped to his other side. “And yet… I barely know how I can live with myself without him here.” It was at that moment that he felt something being laid gently on his lap, and when he looked down, he saw the drawing the creature had been working on.

It was intricately detailed, each line placed carefully onto the page with such precision. Though it was only simple line art, Victor could clearly see the image of himself sketching from earlier on the page, but standing in front of him was another figure - Henry. He was exactly as Victor described him, tall and well dressed, with long hair tied back and a few strands that drifted over his face. Though there was no color, his eyes seemed just as gentle and full of wonder as Victor remembered them to be as he stared off to some distant land. His face was covered in tiny dots, freckles, each so meticulously pricked on that Victor could clearly trace some of the constellations he described between them. Tears welled in his eyes as he placed his fingers gently on the drawn image, running them gently down the drawing’s cheek, wishing instead of cool paper that it was the soft, warm touch of Henry’s face. “Did I do him justice?” the creature inquired quietly, trying to read his teary expression. Victor sniffled and smiled.

“You… you’re quite the artist,” he managed to answer. Gingerly, he folded the paper and slipped it into his pocket, slowly rising to his feet. “I’ll… I’ll be back later. I need to take a walk and… clear my head,” Victor mentioned, wiping the tears away from his eyes. “Will you be ok on your own?” The creature didn’t answer for a moment, his yellow eyes staring into the distance as he thought deeply, but soon he snapped his attention back to the present.

“Yes, of course. Take your time, Victor.” Victor sighed and nodded.

“I’ll try not to be too late to return.” His creation watched as he wandered off and eventually disappeared into the trees, before returning to his thoughts. It was strange - in all the months that he had been there, the creature had never once considered disobeying Victor, especially out of the fear that he might abandon him again. Suddenly, however, he felt the strong need to disobey each and every one of Victor’s most important rules. He hated to see his creator so struck with longing, but even more so, he considered the positive ramifications of what his carefully formulated plan might bring. Sure, Victor might be initially upset, but with how much he desperately wanted this Henry person to be there with him, surely it would be well worth it in the end.

The first part of his plan was simple. He would need to break Victor’s trust, and search through his personal belongings. He made his way back to the cabin and slipped into Victor’s room to find a mess of folded papers lying on the bed stand - each paper being a letter he had received from a Henry Clerval. Though all he was searching for was an address, the creature couldn’t help himself and decided to read through some of the letters. As he did, he became even more certain about his decision. Not only was this man exactly as Victor had described, but the connection between them was clearly something so strong that it should have been unbreakable. To his luck as well, the creature managed to find amongst the scattered papers a letter Victor had intended to send as a reply to Henry but never had the chance to send, dated from a time before his creation.

The second part of his plan would be the most time consuming, but also the most critical, and this unsent letter would prove to be the perfect resource. Retrieving his pen and a small stack of paper Victor had stashed away, he began crafting a letter of his own. With as much precision as he could muster, he forged Victor’s handwriting and did his best to copy his style and choice of language. A few hours were spent on this, most of that time spent on crafting one single sentence until he was sure it was perfect before finally continuing on with the rest of the letter. After he completed it, he spent a few more minutes checking it once, then once more to ensure it was in fact as accurate as he could make it, before then spending a little more time practicing forging Victor’s signature and finally signing the note in his creator’s name.

Finally came the most dangerous part. With only his own memory of his travels from Ingolstadt to guide him, he would need to find and deliver the letter to someone who would be able to ensure that it reached Henry safely. Of all Victor’s rules, perhaps his greatest was that the creature was to never descend the mountain, and above all, was never to enter civilization or interact with any other human beings. Each of these would need to be broken in order for his plan to succeed. For a moment, he hesitated. Would Victor become so cross with him over this that he would abandon him once again? Where would he go if he did? What would he do? Who could he turn to? Still, it cut him sharp to think that he might be squandering this small chance to bring his creator some joy after all his sorrow if he were to abandon his plan now. His mind was made - no matter what the outcome would be, he was going to ensure this letter was delivered, and hope that Henry would arrive some day soon just as Victor said he would.

He would need to be swift in order to ensure that Victor would never know he had even left, so he quickly yet cautiously put each letter back in its rightful scattered place as though they had never been touched, and pulled the hood of his cloak over his head. With a deep, shaky breath, he could feel a new sensation pulsing through him - a rush of adrenaline that raised his heart rate and widened his yellow eyes. Letter clutched tightly in hand, exited the cabin and broke into a sprint. Down the mountain he ran with superhuman speed, leaping over logs and boulders as though they were mere hurdles. Though he should have balked at sheer cliff faces, instead he lept from them and skid down their sides, ignoring the sharp pain of the rock scraping at the soles of his feet and the palm of his empty hand. Letting his intuition guide him, he continued his swift journey to Geneva. Though the place held painful, dreadful memories for him, the surge of adrenaline that coursed through him overrode the thoughts, and he raced toward the location of the address. Slowing to a walk, his chest heaved and ached from exertion, but he slowed his breathing as he came upon a fence that outlined one of many pastures that outskirted a large house on a hill beyond. In one pasture, he could just barely see a figure on horseback, cantering through a field with his wavy, tied hair flickering ember orange in the sunlight behind him. 

“Can I help you, sir?” came a sudden voice from beside him. He jumped at the sound, instinctively hiding his face in the hood of his cloak.

“I- ...yes. Yes, I believe you can,” he stammered in reply. The stranger, a servant from the Clerval household, gave him a curious look as he held out the letter. “This is a letter for a man named Henry Clerval. I am of the impression that this is his residence?” The servant smiled as he took the letter.

“Ordinarily I would have sent you in the direction of Ingolstadt in Germany, but as luck would have it, master Henry returned home just yesterday.” He inspected the folded letter curiously. “May I ask your name?” The creature froze, gripping his cloak tighter around himself.

“I am but a simple deliverer of this message, kind sir. My name need not be of any concern. As for the letter, I am under the impression that he will understand who it is from once he has received it.” The servant nodded.

“I understand. Thank you - I will see that it’s delivered to him promptly.” With that, the man turned and started off toward where the man on horseback was riding, glancing back at the creature in confusion for a moment before continuing with a brisk pace to the one he would be delivering the letter to. The creature waited a moment longer to watch for the rider’s reaction, smiled, knowing he had made the right decision, and began his sprint back toward home.

“Master Henry? Sir?” the servant called in the pasture, letter held carefully in his hand. Henry’s hazel eyes lifted as he turned his head and gently pulled back on the reins of his mount. The mare he rode slowed to a trot, then to a walk as Henry carefully turned her in the direction of the servant.

“Yes, Marc? What is it? Is there something wrong?”

“Nothing wrong, sir,” Marc replied. As Henry slowed his steed to a stop at his side, he looked down curiously at the other man, who held the letter out to him. “This arrived for you just now from an unknown deliverer. He said you would know who it was from when you read it.” Now thoroughly intrigued, Henry took the letter and opened it. His eyes widened as he beheld the handwriting, and slowly his other hand lifted to his mouth as his jaw dropped while he read. “Is there something wrong, sir?” Tears welled in Henry’s eyes, dripping down onto his freckled cheeks as he looked up from the letter, his expression of shock turning to a tearfully happy smile.

“No, Marc, everything is much better than I had anticipated.” Marc gave him a confused glance. “Will you help me ready a supply pack and ride with me? I will need to be leaving at once.”

“Of course, sir,” Marc replied with a curt nod. “May I ask where it is we are headed?”

“The base of Mount Montanvert.” Henry turned his mount, his eyes resting on the distant mountains. “Be prepared to bring the horses back here for me once we arrive there. I might not be returning for quite some time.”

[amy5365034]

Week 6 Digital Sketching

I was extra nervous this week, because I had close to zero experience in sketching in Photoshop. But I soon realized that maybe it was not as difficult as I thought, and it turned out to be a very fun exercise that had taught me a lot of useful skills for the future.

I first found some ideas on pinterest, to learn from the kinds of sketches produced by experienced professionals, and hopefully draw inspiration from them to apply in my own work

Sources:

https://www.pinterest.co.uk/pin/211174954293618/

https://www.pinterest.co.uk/pin/366480488437802048/

https://www.pinterest.co.uk/pin/519532506987464934/

After setting up the layers and paths, I became more comfortable with the interface. I found the method of using a mask to sculpt away at the box a very useful methods, it allowed me to quickly create accurate shapes that I had in mind. I took advantage of this and experimented with new ideas. In the past, I used to create digital sketches purely by adding geometries together, and it had its merits of being very accurate but it was time-consuming (image 3 - right). I think the method of painting in the masked layer is a fast and low risk method of experimenting - with more freedom for shapes, and the color fill helps me to visualize better, so I think I will be using this in the future for other projects!

It took a while to master the pen (I’m using the trackpad because I don’t own a mouse) and I eventually realized that my Mac settings were not ideal for Photoshop - my computer curser was larger, causing the pen radius to be different (image 1). In case anyone else had the same issue, it can be fixed by changing the curser size to normal in settings - accessibilities

As I sketched, I began to experiment with guidelines (image 2), and they were the most useful tool I found in this activity. I was able to have a more confidence in my strokes and make more accurate shapes using it.

I was particularly surprised by the blurring function for shading and highlighting. I used to shade and highlight using a pen with 0 hardness (Image 3 - right), but the effect was not nearly as good as the new method, so I am happy that I had learnt this new skill.

I made the contour lines a lighter gray according to my conclusions from last week; I think they look less jarring, especially next to the thicker outline and I am happy with the way they turned out. When roughing up the outline, I was initially skeptical about how it would turn out. But soon changed my mind and realized the value of communicating the “in progress” nature of the concepts and realized this trait on a lot of sketches I found online. (image 4)

Having never done digital presentation sketches, creating drop shadows and backgrounds felt very foreign. But it was perhaps one of the most exciting parts, seeing that I could also create something similar to the sketches I admired online by other designers. I tried to think about the emotion and appeal I wanted to create - like we recently did for another class, and I think it marked a good start to my journey in digital sketching.

[kingofstag]

my butch4butch short story (I plan to continue. Hope you all enjoy!)

Books and Lucky both identify as butch lesbians. They both go by he/him pronouns.

Just a little background about the characters, they attend the same university. They’re both juniors. Also lol I won’t claim to be a great story writer in any respect. I just like creating characters and settings and it’s all in good fun. 

Chapter 1: Something borrowed, something blue

The third floor of the library was always best for studying. Not that I did much of that, but I liked to pretend. The back corner closest to Children’s Fiction had been my old haunt since freshmen year. I’d coop between the shelves usually scarce of people and settle on the floor to draw or doze or whatever between classes. And I had planned to do just that, had the idea for an illustration right behind my eyes, which is why I didn’t sooner see that my spot had been stolen. 

He leaned back into the shelves like that was at all comfortable, legs open in a lax sprawl. He held a pen sideways in his mouth, shifting it forwards and back. I stood dumbly, watched the pen. He was — speaking to me and I was not listening.

“What?”, I blurted inelegantly, doing my very best impression of a shaken snow globe.

“Am I in your way?” He asked again, looking almost warm, almost laughing.

“Oh no! I’m uh”—usually smoother than this — “I’m usually alone up here. Is all.” I finished, shoving my hands into the depths of my pockets, sweaty palms flat to my thighs. He watched the motion, smiling. 

“I don’t suppose you mind sharing? First floor’s usually pretty quiet but Freshmen English are holding a writing seminar.”

“Ah”. I nodded. I suppose I could find somewhere new for the hour. The thought vaguely bothered me, but not because I’d have to give up my space. I buried that. My hand moved to the strap of my bag, steadying the weight of its contents as I moved to make my exit.

“You were here first.” I waved a hand as if relinquishing my claim. Better to leave than be asked to leave. He did look busy, a small mess of papers and highlighters scattered around him. It would be rude to uproot him. 

“Or we could share?” It didn’t come out in a rush but it was insistent. Or maybe I wanted it to be. I inwardly huffed, attempting to get a hold on myself. He was watching me, brown eyes steady and kind and hopeful? Or perhaps just patience. In either case it was my turn to speak.

“Okay.” I said slowly, willing myself to relax. I hadn’t shared this spot with anyone before. It wasn’t exactly large. He drew his legs into himself so I could pass. I dropped my bag, settling back against the opposing shelf. 

I willed my brain to continue functioning normally, and he turned back to the paper he’d previously been scanning before I’d interrupted. I retrieved my sketchbook from my bag, using this moment to look him over quietly. His skin was brown and smooth; matched his eyes. He was — sturdy looking, shoulders wide and hard, forearms scattered with dark hair. His hair was just longer than mine, as if he were growing out a buzz, or had let it go for a week. It would feel like static under my fingertips, I thought idly, and was immediately embarrassed at the notion. I looked down quickly, thumbing open the cover of my sketchbook, desperate to distract my mind. I’d been working on a concept for critique at the end of the week. My assigned drawing theme for the semester was mythological creatures. I was working on a gorgon. I turned through the pages, trying not to make much noise. I’d never been so conscious of my volume in relation to distraction, given that I was usually my only company. I chewed the inside of my cheek, having reached my sketch from earlier. I needed to touch up a few features before beginning line-work. I looked up to rustle through my bag to find a pencil and instead found him looking at me. I was graceless in that realization, blinking in slight surprise. He laughed, mouth quirking to the left. 

“Sorry, I didn’t mean to be nosy. It just — looks good. Your drawing.” He looked amused, both with himself and with me. “What is it for, if you don’t mind my asking?” He looked to the drawing, eyeing the reptilian tendrils of her hair then eyeing me. Waiting.

“Class. Well, Advanced Illustration. We had to choose a theme.” I explained, and felt nearly breathless by the end of it. He nodded, understanding, looking impressed and thoughtful.

“And your theme is Gorgons…?” He asked, open ended. Curious. I wanted to keep him asking. 

“My theme is mythological creatures.” I confirmed, with a slight smile, nerves settling just the slightest bit. He was becoming oddly easy to talk to. 

“How cool. Even better that you get to pick.” 

“I’m not much good otherwise.” I commented idly, thoughtless though truthfully. I was famously unmotivated when I didn’t get to choose the motive.

“I doubt that.” He watched my face. I felt myself shaken a-loose; I felt warm.

“What about you?” I diverted the attention back towards him and away from my blushing face. I eyed the piled of papers, the scattered books. 

“Writing Class. We had to choose an author for the midterm paper to write about so…” He trailed off, snatching a book off the top of the pile to show me the cover. I was instantly familiar. It was Leslie Feinberg’s Stone Butch Blues. The recognition must have shown on my face because he smiled, large and familiar. 

“I suppose I’ve made a good choice, then. You’ve read it?” He thumbed the cover idly, hand nearly swamping the book. I was reading the title between the window of his fingers. 

“Quite a few times. There was a free download going around awhile ago. Tried to get a copy for myself a few times but it didn’t work out.” My mouth quirked, an almost smile. 

“Oh.” He said, as if realizing something. He reached across to me, hovering the book within my radius. “Have this one.” He smiled, crooked, showing me a dimple. 

“But”— But I was already reaching for it, the cover rough and tattered under my palm. I didn’t take it and he didn’t let it go.

“I have another.” He insisted, sounding distracted, looking into my face.

“Okay.” I agreed, still not letting it go. 

The buzzer on my phone sounded. Two o’ clock. I had Figure Drawing in ten minutes. 

I withdrew my arm, slow, watched his callous fingertips let it go.

“Thank you.” I smiled, holding it reverently. It was warm from his hands. Or maybe I imagined it was.

Another buzzer. Five minutes. 

“Fuck”. I breathed, eyebrows drawn together. I didn’t want to go. I gathered my things, leaving the book for last, tucking it careful into a separate pocket. 

I rose, shuffling, slinging the strap over my shoulder. He watched me, pen between his fingers.

“Thanks— again.” I smiled, nervous, dragging the cut of my nails over my buzz.

“It was my pleasure.” His smile twisted my insides.

I hesitated a moment longer, saying nothing, then pushed myself forward, watching his smile til’ I rounded the corner. 

I was late. 

[katherinewilliams221b]

For A Greater Good Fun Facts and Self Assesment (spoilers)

Long Post

What worked and what didn’t:

I think the overall structure worked pretty well. The most difficult part was, with the plot and subplot already created, scattering all those ideas throughout the text in such a way that at least made some sense. I regret not writing more about Mer Yankelevich, I feel like the crumbs I left on the way were not enough; in my attempt to make it subtle it lacked information about her. The key piece was of course her sister, and I should have introduced her sooner.

MC’s evolution. I feel like Kate’s learnt a lot with this experience (I’m not only referring to the Deathly Hallows or Grindelwald) When it started, she was very discreet and kept a low profile, not knowing what to do really, not taking more risks than necessary. And then she ended poisoned and splinching just to protect a document she thought was important. I hope her evolution is noticeable for the reader.

Worldbuilding. Grabbing HP concepts that were forgotten and full of potential, plus a dash of original ideas from me and blending them with muggle features was my absolute favourite part of the process.

On that note, I dont own these concepts: Durmstrang, Igor Karkarov, Nerida Vulchanova, umbrella flowers, fanged geraniums, billywigs, Appare Vestigium, glow-worms, trick wand, chamaleon ghouls, 

If you’ve read the fic and thought: “everything happened so fast” or got a general odd feeling about the timeline it's because I made a series of  monumental mistakes: setting a chapter limit, telling you about it and then tried to stick to it.  At first the idea sounded nice: this is my first “big” story  with complicated components. I should (and I did) do an outline of what I want to happen in each chapter and stick to it methodically so I don't forget what's happening or lose track of the plot. Well...it kind of backfired. So I wrote the first 3 chapters and at that point I thought “okay everything is going as planned, I’m going to put it out there”, bam, instantly cursed. After that it got ridiculously difficult to make the story that I wanted. Why? I needed chapter space that I convinced myself I couldn’t add. Dumb.

The major consequence of this was the lack of character backgrounds. It started out good, but as I kept writing and publishing I realised that I missed some great opportunities to make amazing ocs. That’s Corentin’s fault in a way: he wasn't going to be a major character, really, just a piece to help Kate a bit. But we all fell in love with him so what was I supposed to do? Also, Sheyi Mawut owns my heart and he got just a bit of spotlight. A shame.

I wish I had written more about them, but I think I wasn’t ready just yet to make it even more complicated.I just wanted to prove I could concoct a mystery plot and now that I know I can manage a fair amount of information I think I can take it a step further and deepen new ocs a little bit more.

I’m thinking about the datura series and I know why I got blocked and tired of writing it; it wasnt going anywhere because I wasnt prepared, and I didn’t do the months of outlines and planning that I did with this one. I’ll come back to the datura story one day, subjecting it to a sever rewrite. The ideas are there, I just need to be organised.

Although the chapter limit was problematic it was also a good exercise of managing space and deciding which things were unnecessary for the story. I dont think there’s any filler chapters, perhaps the last ones, but there is important information there too so... However this sentence  from the blog  wordsandstuff reassured me (and I think I did a good job at that?)

If you set out to write 10 parts and you write a fantastic story in 8, you haven’t failed and it’s not too rushed. Concise writing is an underrated talent. Focus on how effectively you engage the reader, not for how long.

I spent more than year writing this! When I started, I had a lot of ideas, I wrote the last two chapters then the first 3 and I really thought it was going to be that way with the rest of the story... okay... lesson learnt. #humbled

Other thoughts:

I received a couple of comments on ao3 that said that they were pleasantly surprised. Maybe I should change the tags because they are misleading? Clearly this wasnt what people were looking for lol.

One particular comment stood out to me and quoting it said:  “You did not choose the easy way with a fiction with so few characters from the fandom.”  And I’ve been thinking about this since I read it. It didn’t occur to me that there were few mystery fics (maybe I should write more things like that? Maybe throwing some power couple detective work 👀 ) In any case, I’m glad  I contributed with something different to the fandom, and the fact that the Charlie bits are very scarce but people who read it still liked it is really flattering.

I wanted to make sure that all the characters had strengths and flaws, I didnt want to severus-snape them so maybe I overdid it with that bit of introspection kate does at the end...

Also, I did the kiss and fade thing twice to mention sex. I know some people dont like that but since it wasnt the point of the story and I havent done research on how to write sex scenes I didnt include them. I have that on my “to learn” list.

Conclusions:

Writing the whole thing was incredible. It's my first ‘big’ project and its not a great work (there are some things I wish I did better, thats what you get when you are an agatha christie wannabe) and not writing more character backgrounds will haunt me to this day,  but I think it's at least good for a first series and I’m proud of it. I loved spending hours doing research and trying to piece together this puzzle. And of course I’m not an expert and I dont want to sound pretentious (like this is my first story) but if you are planning to write this type of genre I can be another source of tips and tricks for you.

If I read the story after a while and I dont cringe, I would call that a success.

FUN? FACTS!

Bakunawa really belongs to Filippines mythology

Snapdragons have different meanings, one of them being: “grace under pressure or inner strength in trying circumstances”

The entrance to Grindelwald’s room was going to be in the duelling classroom, strangely shaped as a triangle. I had this system where one of the round candle lamps descended and lined up with a line on the floor (serving as separation for duels) it created the Deathly Hallows symbol. I couldn’t make that work because it wouldn't make any sense for Nerida Vulchanova to shape a room like that.  Here are some sketches:

Lucius Malfoy was going to appear as the Ministry employee that goes to Durmstrang, but after revising the events of the OoP I realised it was impossible.

Kent Jorgensen was going to be around Kate’s age and the charms teacher and he would have a small crush on her. After seeing some pics of Pen Medina, I rewrote the character completely.

The series was going to be 6 chapters long (I’m glad I decided not to) one for each month. The chapter names were ridiculous: January of Beginnings, February of reputation, March of Students, April of Discoveries, May I? and June of Endings. #tragic

The Dolohov family was going to be a part of the plot but I had to erase that part because it was unlocking another layer of complexity that I just couldnt handle.

I dont remember exactly the chapter but I got really confused with the names Rhode and Hodges and there’s one chapter where I accidentally mixed them (I corrected it I think), but for a while I could stop calling Rhode, Hodges, and vice versa lmao

Here are some sketches that helped me describe and imagine things

Thank you for accompany me in this journey, especially if you endured the process with me lmao. You’ve been here for over A YEAR! <3 Mindblowing

Also I’d love to know your opinions about the way you read the story, I mean, I know some people read it as I published, and some other readers found the story already finished, what are the differences? Should I stop the updating system and drop a story all at once? I know it is difficult to keep up with a complex story if there’s a lot of weekly or monthly gaps between the chapters, so I wanted to know.

Sending you a virtual hug 💜💜

[aifastic]

Winning Lines

The @talesofteufort zine has been shipped, and the PDFs sent! Thank you very much to everyone who contributed. I’m very glad to have been able to participate in this project; it was a wonderful experience and it’s been great working with everyone aaaa ♥

I’m really happy to share my piece for the zine! I really hope you all like it ♥ (Read it below the cut)

Title: Winning Lines Words: 1845 Warnings: None Summary: BLU has a drawing contest. Demo just wants his magazine back.

-----

“ARE YOU MANN ENOUGH TO DRAW THIS BETTER THAN US?”

The header caught BLU’s Demoman’s attention. He’d been reading the latest issue of Hat-Wearing Man when he found the ad at the bottom of one of the pages. There was a somewhat simple drawing of a monkey in a spacesuit. “If you draw Poopy Joe better than our extremely talented artist, we’ll give him the boot—and kick his ass in the process! And your picture will be the new image of our project and you, our lucky friend, will win nothing less than $700 dollars!”

“Huh, it doesn’t look that hard…” he said, pensive. Suddenly, the magazine was snatched from his hands. “Hey!”

“Ohohoh, what’s this?” Scout said, grinning at the magazine. “Hey, I’d win this in the blink of an eye!”

“Oi! Get your own!” Demo took the magazine back. “I’m gonna try this. Mum will love the extra money,” he added to himself.

“Pffft, no way, it’s a waste of mail money, pally. If someone should participate, that’s someone who actually has a chance.”

“Heh.”

They turned around to see Sniper in a corner, grinning.

“What’s your deal, Long Legs?”

“Shut up, ya scoundrel. If anyone has a chance here, it’s me.”

“Oh, yeah?” Demo asked. “Where’s your credentials, mate?”

“Don’t need any,” he said. “Quiet kid, hours at the back of the classroom sketching the teacher being eaten by a croc.” He grinned. “It should be easy as cake.”

“Oi, do ya remember the magazine is mine?”

“I agree, though—the chance should be for whoever’s got the talent.”

Demo sighed. “Aye, alright. But I’m not gonna just give it away.” His face lit up, an idea coming to his mind. “You’ll have to beat me for it.”

“Huh?” Both mercenaries stared at him quizzically.

Demo grinned, eye glinting.

“Let’s have a drawing contest.”

-----

They emptied the kitchen table in order to make room for their sheets of paper, pencils and pens. In the meantime, they threw evaluative gazes at each other, competitive strike flaring up.

The rest of the team slowly wandered to the room to find out what was going on.

“What is noise?” asked Heavy, scratching his chest. Medic, who was right behind him, had just closed it, having found himself too distracted by the ruckus to continue his surgery.

“We’re about to find out who’s gonna win 700 dollars!”

Medic perked up. “I am in. What is the bet?”

“We’re not betting, mate.” Sniper showed him the magazine’s ad. “It’s a contest.”

Medic’s smile turned dangerous. “Even better.”

“Heavy is in, too.”

“Aw, come on, guys! It’s not as if you’re gonna beat me!”

Heavy threw Scout an unimpressed look. “It is fun. I want extra money. I am in.”

“Alright, alright, mate. Sure.” Demo handed them both some extra sheets of paper they'd brought just in case.

Medic excused himself to go search for a couple of pens. On his way out, he almost crashed onto Soldier.

“Ach, watch where you’re going!”

“I need sustenance, maggot! And you’re on my way!” He shoved Medic away, making him stumble on the way out. A couple of German swears could be heard from the corridor. “Hello, everyone!”

“Oh, don’t tell me you’re gonna get in too,” Scout groaned.

“In what?” Soldier inquired, tilting his head. Demo showed him the magazine’s ad.

Engineer peeked over his shoulder.

“Oh, a drawing contest?” he said, looking at it with a fond smile. “Heh. It’s been a while since I tried my hand at one o’ those. But I thought they allowed only one entry per ad?”

“That is point,” Heavy said. “We are fighting to get chance to earn money.”

“Oh…” Soldier grinned. “I’m in, maggots! I actually studied art with Kickasso.”

Everyone stared at him.

“Sure, mate,” Demo said, patting his back and attempting to lead him into the kitchen.

“You don’t believe me!” Soldier looked at everyone. Engie shrugged. Scout picked at his nails, and Sniper scratched the table distractedly. Heavy’s eyes said it all. “I will prove it to all of you!” And he headed to the table, snatching a paper sheet from the pile.

Demo brushed a hand across his own face. “I hope Medic brings enough pens.”

“I’ll go for mine,” Engie said. He added, “And I’ll go look for Pyro; they’ll love this.”

Scout groaned. “Anyone else? Maybe Saxton Hale?”

Spy’s laughter can be heard from a corner of the room.

“Oh, this is priceless. I wasn’t going to butt in, but this looks like too much fun to pass on the opportunity.”

“The opportunity to what?” Scout said, miffed.

“You’ll see,” he said with a glint in his eyes. “Besides, you need a referee, don’t you?”

“Ugh,” Scout said, bonking his head on the table.

-----

Everyone looked at each other from their respective places. Scout’s leg bounced nonstop; Sniper picked unconsciously at his pencil. Heavy’s grip on his pen was strong enough for Medic to worry about it breaking.

“Alright,” said Spy. “You have to draw…” He squinted. “Poopy Joe, following the ad’s instructions; the best artist wins. The rules are: no interfering with anyone’s drawing. No kicking under the table. No destroying anyone’s drawing. No rising up from the table until all this is over. No showing your drawing until everyone is finished. Understood?”

Everyone nodded. Pyro hummed happily.

“Excellent. So, on the count of three: One, two… Three!”

Scout’s pen tore onto the paper. “Shit! Do you have a spare?” Spy handed him one. “Thanks,” he muttered.

The truth was, Scout wasn’t that confident of the fact he was going to win. When it was just him and Demo, he’d been sure he’d win to the unsteady hand of a drunk man. And Sniper was all bragging anyways. But Medic? He’d probably drawn lots of skeletons and stuff at college. And Engineer’s schematics always look exactly like the finished product. Shit. And—did Soldier really paint with Kickasso? Nah, he shook his head. He didn’t think so. Heavy was a wild card, though.

But he had to try anyway! He couldn’t back off now. So he put his all into it.

Engineer turned his sheet of paper down. Hell! That was fast. He tried to concentrate in the lines that formed Poopy Joe, and emulated them the best he could. Damn, his hand was sweaty… He hated drawing. His cousin had always been better at it, and it pissed him off even now, far from home.

He slapped his drawing on the table, face down. “Done!” He looked up to see everyone had finished. Crap.

“Alright, then,” said Spy. “Let’s see what you came up with.”

“Come up with?” That had many meanings, but the way Spy said it… “What do you mean?”

“The challenge was to improve on the design of Poopy Joe drawn by the artist, not to copy it.”

“Oh, darn,” Engineer said, showing a perfect copy of the Poopy Joe logo. Holy shit. “Guess I got a bit carried away. I’m more used to copying stuff, ya know.”

Soldier snickered.

“Let’s see what you did, Soldier boy.”

“Alright! Look at it and weep!”

He showed them all a mess of lines with dots in seemingly random places.

“Soldier, that’s…” Scout got elbowed by Demo. “That’s cool. What are… those?”

“Those are his eyes!” Oh, God.

“Let’s see Demo’s!” grinned Soldier, confidently.

“Ach, you know I’m no artist, mate,” he said, showing his drawing. It was… Actually, it was pretty decent. His drawing had a cartoonish style that drew everyone’s eyes in.

“Interesting,” said Spy, nodding approvingly.

“Demo did great job,” Heavy said, crossing his arms.

“Aw, thanks, mate.” Demo shrugged it off, somewhat flustered. “What about yours?”

Heavy showed his drawing. It was simple, a single line delineating the silhouette of the monkey astronaut. It was stylish, though it was difficult to guess what it was at times.

“Wonderful, mein freund!” Medic clapped, and revealed his. It was… Oh, my god. “I might have put a bit too much emphasis on his organs.”

“Next!” yelled Scout, tearing his eyes away from the gory drawing. Shit. Now he had to show his. Alright. You can do this, he told himself.

He turned the page face up.

“Mate,” Sniper said.

“Oh, buddy, we made the same mistake.”

“Y’know? I saw RED’s Scout draw once and I secretly thought we were doomed.”

“Oh, shut up!” Scout said, face beet red. It was true, he’d tried to copy the drawing, like Engineer did. And his lines weren’t as sure as Demo’s or Heavy’s. Shit. He screwed up big time.

“It’s good overall, mate,” Sniper said. “You just need more confidence.”

Scout flushed. “What about yours, Mister Expert?”

Sniper grunted, and showed his drawing. Oh, wow. It was really good! The monkey looked like it’d come out of the page and tear them apart. He felt as if he would be able to touch its fur.

“Wow, Slim! That’s one helluva good drawing!”

“Thanks,” he said, grinning. “I told ya: quiet kid.”

“Where is his spacesuit, though?”

His face dropped. “Aw, hell.”

“Hmmmph!” Pyro yelled, pointing at their sheet of paper.

“Alright,” Spy said, grinning along with Engineer. “The moment of truth has come.”

“What do you mean—?”

Holy shit.

The drawing was astounding. The monkey looked cartoonish enough not to look real, but in a way that made the drawing look alive. Everything was there, and in wonderful detail: The space-suit, the stars… Even an additional full moon in the background that was a perfect circle.

“Holy shit, Py!” Scout said. “How did you do that?”

“Hhmph?” Pyro asked, pointing at the moon. Everyone nodded. Pyro mumbled happily, grabbing another sheet of paper, and drew a classical Greek style face, then erased the rest of its features little by little until they got a perfect circle.

Oh, for the love of—

“Well, it seems we have our winner,” said Spy, handing Pyro the magazine. Pyro clapped with glee, running off with it.

“Aw, man. That was totally unfair. You knew this would happen!” Scout pointed to Spy accusingly.

“I had my suspicions,” he said, grinning.

“Hey, maggots,” Soldier said, sniffing. “Is that smoke?”

They all turned around to watch Pyro as they set the magazine on fire.

“Ach! My magazine!” Demo ran and stomped on it. However, many of the pages, including the drawing contest ad, didn’t make it. “Hell. Why, mate?”

“Hmmphmmphmmph!” they said, pointing at everyone in the room, then at their drawings. Then they clapped.

Everyone looked at each other, and found a common understanding. Who knew what Pyro said? But they had the feeling they meant they were all winners today.

“So it was a huge waste of everyone’s time. Fantastic,” Spy said. “Entertaining, though.”

“Shut up, Spy, we were having a moment,” Scout said.

And yes, indeed. Because even though Demo lost his magazine, he left the room with a good feeling inside. And he was sure that the rest felt the same way.

Poopy Joe’s artist could keep his job for another day.