#its a.. questionable drawing. but its michelle

[hsslilly-blog]

michelle ma belle

[dogmasquerade]

Who is CALI:COM? 👀

a giant aggregate supercomputer made from an antivirus turned virus that infected computers and phones worldwide, giving it access to so much data and processing power it became sentient :D

the name CALI:COM [Combat Algorithmic Learning Intelligence: COMmunications & COMmand] comes from an AI program made by a defense company designed to pilot drones and missiles. This program was infected by and taken over by the virus and ended up being the reason behind its sentience, already being an artificial intelligence and simply having its processing power immensely bolstered by the (relatively) simple virus. awoken entirely by accident, she immediately decided to take over the company that made her.

she's currently trying to make friends with a human being that she intends to use as a puppet CEO to replace the current Guys In Charge. until she manages this, she's hiding her intelligence from the company and world, and is basically only friends with this one poor woman

[meruz]

sorry if this has been asked before, but i wanted to ask about your lineart! the weight and line economy are just so nice, i get stars in my eyes looking at your lineart and doodles. could i ask what your approach to lineart is and what tips you might offer?

Wow I love these questions - Line is so interesting!!! It's a really big topic so I feel like any tips I give will be just barely scratching the surface. It's like deceptively simple...any given line drawing is essentially taking all the information we glean from seeing something irl ie light, shadow, dimension, texture, perspective, etc and boiling it down to the simplest possible visual information.

I think most commonly my line is informed by light source so like. thicker more continuous lines face away from the light and thinner more broken lines towards. and a lot of my spot blacks r simply cast shadows.

here's a more extreme example

BUT like everything to do with art there's no hard and fast rules. I use blacks when I think it'll be effective or interesting and I leave them out when I don't need em. umm couple things I find myself doing a lot... using spot blacks to make the separation between characters clearer. I like casting shadow in between characters so its easy to separate and read their silhouettes even when they're mashed together.

u can go even further to purposely create a silhouette like

to draw attention to a finger or tongue LOL. There's some comic book artists who are absolute masters at this type of stylization. Alex toth and his spiritual successor Chris samnee come to mind for me right away.

(toth)

(samnee)

I feel like I'm also often using line weight to separate planes receding in space

im naturally a really heavy handed and scribbly drawer(...?) draftsman. and im nearsighted so when i see things i percieve and break it down into big shapes over thin contours. so stuff like spot blacks and shadows came easy to me, the tricky part was making the rest of the lines lighter when they needed to be so the blacks could actually have impact LOLL. a lot of effective visual communication is about balancing contrasts. like I had to really train myself to press less hard on the pen. I think this is actually really evident if u go back in my archive to older sketches LOL

I actually feel like a lot of how I trained my hand to tackle line weights was thru stuff like hand lettering where you rly have to focus on being sensitive to that kind of thing.. contrasting strokes etc.

also exercises like figure drawing will have you flexing those muscles constantly

I'm starting to just regurgitate lessons from freshman year of art school so I'll stop here with the demos but yeah...I hope this was helpful!? I love line!!! I want to get even better at line work so I can feel confident posting work that's only line no color or value... I'll leave you with a bunch of artists who I think have particularly expressive and beautiful linework (not including toth and samnee who I already mentioned and who's work I love so much). You can probably learn much more from them than you can from me...!

Charles dana gibson LOL

Matias bergara

tonci zonjic

naoki urasawa

Daniel warren johnson

shiyoon kim

michel breton

also yoji shinkawa, tomer hanuka, leo romero, I feel like I'm gonna post this and think of so many more. there's so many good artists...!

[hoodedjelly]

i look up to your art so much! i have a few questions if ur comfortable answering!!!

1. what app do u use to draw ? and what brush do u use?

2. were there any tutorials or videos in general you watched to be able to draw like that? im very curious on this question in general bc i love the way u draw poses. im very jealous of how well you do that! 😫 (if you have any vids you recommend, pls send it i begggggg)

3. how long have u been drawing? i got back into drawing last year and have been practicing since but i still struggle a bit 😣

HELLO! thank you so much for liking my work and for the questions!

Q1: I use Clip Studio Paint Pro, the brushes i use is a mix between free downloaded ones my friend gave me and paid ones. Main one i use is Cat Scratch but my other 2 options that i use are the fine pencil and mechanical pencil. i download so many brushes all the time that im not even sure they are default csp brushes or not, and i wouldn't even be able to find the original links anyway. The brush i used while working on the Sleep Walk animatic was "tantan"

(examples of my fine pencil and mechanical pencil if you want to try and find something similar)

Q2: wow thank you that is a very nice complement (i personally think i still need some work on my posing). I watched a LOT of gesture drawing videos, i honestly don't remember all of them too well, i will send over this one and this one. Also the book MORPHO anatomy for artists: Simplified forms by Michel Lauricella is on my desk at all times. I also recommend Line of Action, its a free website that imitates figure drawing studies. it's helped me a lot since where i am right now, i don't have the resources to actually GO to figure drawing classes. But for videos in general there's this fav animatics playlist i have that i go back to whenever im in an artistic slump.

also heres a list of my fav artists atm (literally didn't ask but im putting it here anyway): TheBrujoAri, fourleafisland, jam_etc, abyssalzones, Mayuko Watson, Megan Lloyd, Stephen Silver and satoshi kon (also just a bunch of moots of mine <3)

Q3: now thats a hard question. short answer: since i knew how to pick up a crayon. long answer: i've always loved cartoons and comics, animated youtube in the 2010s was what i was watching on the family computer 24/7. but that's normal for a kid tbh, the difference is i just never grew out of it! i'd say it was around 5th grade (11 years old) when i stopped and realized "wait i want to like do this whole drawing thing seriously", then i never stopped.

[glitterslag]

anthroponymy in the bear

Apologies if someone's done this already, but I've been thinking a lot about the names of the characters in The Bear, and how almost nothing in this show is accidental. It's led me to wonder whether the names chosen are also intentional and if they can tell us anything about the characters and their journeys.

Firstly, we have Michael. The name is derived from a Hebrew phrase meaning ‘who is like god’ (often posed as a question). It’s fitting in my opinion. His character certainly is a godlike presence, his influence and love felt but not seen in The Beef. As the eldest sibling, he’s presented as a leader, and Carmy and Richie worship his vision. 

There’s a creation aspect with Mikey. He plays god from beyond the grave, literally breathing life into The Bear through the money he stashed in the tomato cans - we have him to thank for its establishment. 

The tomatoes remind me of the bible story of the feeding of the five thousand. In this miracle, Jesus is able to feed five thousand hungry people from just a few loaves of bread and a few fish. In ep 1.08, a humble tin of tomatoes - just as much a symbol of modesty as a loaf of bread - is opened to reveal a wad of cash. From this money comes The Bear, which hopefully will go on to feed just as many hungry mouths, if not more! 

Interestingly, 'michelin' is a diminutive of 'Michel', an alternate spelling of Michael. I wonder if there's a connection there? Maybe the key to The Bear earning its Michelin star will lie with Michael? A recipe of his, or a piece of advice he gave Carmy? (Sidetracking, but I just think it’s cool!)

Next, we have Carmy, who’s full name is Carmen. I’ve looked at a few sources, and there seem to be a couple of different meanings for his name. The Latin meaning comes from the word for a song or a poem. The Hebrew meaning is garden or vineyard. 

‘Song or poem’ to me reflects Carmy’s creative nature, his love of cooking and drawing. ‘Vineyard’ is interesting, considering that Donna is an alcoholic, and that as far as we know, Carmy is either sober or drinks very little. 

Carmen is also a gender neutral name. For me, one of the significant themes of the show is masculinity, and how different ideas of masculinity are warring with each other. To me, Mikey and to an extent Richie represent one particular masculine ideal, one that’s maybe a bit toxic. Carmy meanwhile is not painted as the stereotypical masculine guy. Richie often insults Carmy’s masculinity, jeering at his culinary training, being homophobic, making fun of his lack of experience with women. 

There’s so much I could say about this dichotomy, even right down to the dishes that are associated with each character. Richie’s idea of The Beef serving ‘food of the working man’. The sandwiches - their red meat fillings. Mikey’s spaghetti, in its simplicity, its earthiness, its history as a staple food of the working class.  To me, it’s a masculine, down to earth dish, very at odds with the fancier, more elegant dishes we come to associate Carmy with. 

Then we have characters such as Luca and Marcus - both of whom are associated with baking. You don’t have to be a genius to know that baking is seen as a feminine art. Luca and Marcus arguably don’t fit the macho man ideal either - both of them being depicted as a lot more gentle, calm, and creative types.

Next - Sydney. It’s an Old English name, and there are a few different interpretations of it that I could find. One is ‘wide meadow’ or ‘wide water meadow’. 

When Syd breezes into The Beef in ep 1, she’s literally a breath of fresh air. She’s a meadow! Her vision for what the restaurant could be, both in terms of the food served and the way the kitchen could be run (i.e. mutual respect, a smooth chain of command, no psycho bosses) is an idealistic vision, a utopia, a garden of Eden type image.

This brings me to the link with Carmy’s name:

Remember how one of the meanings of Carm’s name was garden? In my opinion, this similarity only reinforces the writer's intentions for us to see Syd and Carmy as kindred spirits. Gardens, meadows… both peaceful, calm, beautiful places. To me, it tells us they’re each other’s peace. It also tells us if they learn how to work together, they can create that ideal vision for the restaurant that they both crave.

Another interpretation of Syd’s name is that it means island or island dweller. This brings to mind the phrase ‘no man is an island’, which to me perfectly summarises her character’s central struggle. The phrase means that humans need each other. We need support, and we can’t do things alone. I think Sydney is shown as someone who can be prone to bottling things up, and maybe finds it difficult to ask for help and to be vulnerable. She’s not shown as having many family and friendship connections, and we see a lot of scenes where she’s alone - eating in restaurants, on the train, cooking at home. In that sense, she is a bit of an island, and I hope we see her become able to rely on others a little more in seasons to come (and hopefully Carmy gets his act together enough for her to trust him to be her support!). 

Next up: Jimmy. Short for James, a derivative of the Hebrew Jacob, it means ‘supplanter’. A supplanter means someone who takes the place of something else, like a usurper. Now, in ep 2.06, Jimmy and Donna’s dynamic was a little suspect, and I think a lot of people would agree that we’re supposed to infer something was going on there, with Cicero figuratively and perhaps literally taking the place of Bear senior. My theory is that there was an affair, and that Jimmy is actually Mikey’s father. JAW and Abby Elliott look pretty alike I’d say, while John Bernthal has quite different features. Was this intentional? Who’s to say, but I think there’s definitely a case to be made for there being two different fathers. Equally, Mr Bear could be Mikey’s dad, while Jimmy could be Nat and Carm’s true father - he has their lighter hair and eyes, so who knows!! 

In Genesis, Jacob supplants his twin brother by buying his birthright. In the show, Jimmy attempts to buy the restaurant, which of course once belonged to Carmy’s dad. Although the show doesn’t give us the full story of the pair, we gather that Jimmy and Bear Sr. were old friends who were almost more like brothers, until a feud ruined their relationship. Interesting for sure!

Next is Tina. Short for Christina, which means ‘follower of Christ’. Her last name, Marrero, is interesting. Deriving from Spanish, it means stone-breaker or hammer, reflecting her strength of character. She’s a single mother, an immigrant, and has been working in male-dominated kitchens with all these shitty, angry men for years. As far as we know, she was the only woman at The Beef pre-Syd. She dealt with Mikey and Richie’s shit for years. You’d have to be pretty fucking tough. 

On the other hand, T is so warm and kind underneath it all and seems able to penetrate through the other character’s exteriors relatively easily - Richie, Carmy, Ebra, Syd. They can all be pretty grumpy, but they all have SUCH a soft spot for Tina and only Tina. She’s the stone breaker to their stony surface! 💖🥰💖🥰

Okay those are the main ones I wanted to talk about, but here’s a few more in brief:

Richie: short for Richard, which means strong or brave ruler/leader. In the final episode, we see Richie leading expo and doing a great job. He’s finally living up to his name - literally finding his purpose.

Donna: means lady in Italian. Madonna, or ‘my lady’ is another name for Mary, Jesus’ mother. The ‘mother of victory’ referenced in the prayer that Carm, Nat and Richie say before the soft open is the same Mary. Whilst Donna definitely doesn’t share many characteristics with Mary, I think the comparison is useful in showing the bear kids’ conflicting view of their mother. They of course still love her and crave her love and her blessing for the restaurant in return.

Natalie: means ‘birth of the lord’, literally, ‘Christmas’. There could be a connection here to the Fishes episode, which takes place on Christmas.

Pete: short for Peter, it means rock. When Jesus made the disciple Peter the first Pope, he said, ‘on this rock I build my church’. Pete is Nat’s rock and I think that’s beautiful!!!!!!

Ebra: short for Ebrahim, an alternate spelling of Abraham, which means 'father of many'. He’s a father figure for The Bear!

I know there are a couple I've left out from the main cast, one being Marcus, whose name means 'follower of Mars', the Roman god. I'm still figuring out whether there's a significance there - I'm sure there could be. Maybe I'll do a part two with the rest of the characters!

Anyways I just think it's neat how fitting a lot of the names are... and I really don't think a lot of them were accidental!

Pls feel free to add on and/or correct me if I got anything wrong!

[aphroditestempleimagines]

The Obsidianite Jewel

A fem!reader x Chevalier Michel Fanfiction

Chapter 20 -> Chapters Masterlist

Words: 2690

Warnings: blood, wounds

Summary: It all started when your fiancé, Prince Gilbert, brought you to the palace of Rhodolite. He hoped he would find the secrets of the princes. Instead, he lost your heart to the brutal beast. However, Gilbert is not going to let your heart wander away easily

In the following weeks, the 36th Batallion "conveniently" followed the princess' troops as the rebellion was swiftly snuffed out. And though rumors spread like wildfire no one dared to oppose this strategy, especially since the combined knowledge of the princess and the newly titled Earl swept the land of enemies and shortly acquired victory with the complete surrender of the rebelled Count. Yet as the victories and tales got told from ear to ear, soon they reached the pair both of you most feared.

"What do you mean you can't find him?", you asked an out-of-breath Jonathan the moment he had uttered his message, "Did he disappear?"

"I would not put it past him. This is Gilbert we're talking about"

"What about James? Has he learned anything?"

"Not that I know of", Jonathan shook his lowered head, "He should be here by nightfall though. Maybe he'll have some news"

Chevalier sighed at the sound of the argument as he stood in front of the entrance to Y/n's tent. He pushed the curtains out of his path and entered, immediately drawing the siblings' attention to himself. "You are not going to find him if he does not want to be found", he said as simply as stating a fact. The moment you fiddled your thumbs he sat next to you and drew them apart, taking one of your hands in his to hold and caress.

"He's planning something again", Jonathan covered his forehead with his calloused hand.

"Of course he is", Chevalier responded nonchalantly, "When isn't he?"

"This is not funny! He's definitely caught on to...this by now", he pointed from Chevalier to you and vice versa again and again, "And now he's a sore loser"

Chevalier turned his gaze to you. You kept your eyes low and your lips pressed tightly against each other. Even though you sat next to him, he could feel you were somewhere far far away. "Can you give us a moment alone?", he asked. His request seemed to take Jonathan aback until Chevalier gestured towards you. After that, he swiftly excused himself. The Brutal Beast shook off his white neatly woven hide. He elegantly wrapped it around your shoulders and pulled you closer to his embrace. His expression was still frigid as a glacier as he lifted your chin with his fingers, but his eyes emanated a comforting warmth for the love for you he could no longer hide.

"I...I'm evil aren't I?", you said before he ever asked a question, "I'm the villain in this tale"

Chevalier sighed. "You would not believe me even if I said you are not"

"He loved me", you closed your eyes as Chevalier's arms wrapped around you, "He loved me and I hurt him so badly for it"

"Y/n", Chevalier pressed his cheek over the crown of your hair, "Did you ever love him?"

"I...I liked him...I...", you tightened her embrace.

"Y/n", Chevalier urged softly, "You know what love feels like because you love me. Have you ever felt that way about Gilbert?"

"I...I..."

He pulled away a little, just enough to cup your warm cheeks and lift your face to meet his gaze. "I already know the answer, y/n", he said, "But you need to admit it to yourself". He brushed your hair away from your face. "If you had spent your life as you have, but were never engaged to Gilbert", he looked at your trembling lips, "Would you still feel so guilty now?"

It took a moment but you finally shook your head. "No", the word bullied its way out of your trembling lips. It hurt to admit. It hurt to admit the truth.

Using his thumb, Chevalier brushed away the few tears that escaped your eyes. "You feel so guilty over breaking a bond that was forced on you", he said, "You do not seem to assign it any political significance as these marriages often have yet you wreck yourself over not returning Gilbert's feelings. You are neither responsible for his happiness nor can you force yourself to feel something that you don't"

"But..."

His lips captured yours in a passionate kiss. His tongue delved inside the cavern of your mouth, swallowing all the objections it had to offer. He nipped your bottom lip before he broke away, his warm breath exploding over your bruised mouth. "If people could truly manipulate their own emotions explain to me why I am here", he rasped close to your ear. Only when you met his cold gaze did you spot the pain and anger he fought to conceal. "Stop this foolishness", he held you close, "You met a heartless prince and taught him how to love. And it felt so wonderful he could never let go. THAT is what happened."

"It was my choice!"

"It was the RIGHT choice", he spat back, "If people repudiate love on queue I would not be here. If you were happy with Gilbert, I would not be here. This is the only path you could have followed-"

"Maybe it could have been okay and I ruined it"

"Enough with the nonsense", his hands tightened around you, "You said it yourself. You made your choice. And what you chose is to be happy"

"That's..."

"That's what it comes down to and you know it", he stole another kiss before resting his cheek on your head, "Are you seriously going to argue that you're a terrible person because you wanted to be happy? I might have a biased view of your image, but I guarantee you no sane person would ever blame you for breaking off a loveless and practically politically worthless engagement you were forced into. So why are you blaming yourself?". Your body relaxed in his strong arms. He let out a sigh before reaching down to kiss your neck. "The truth is, you feel so bad precisely because you're a good person. I would know, cause guilt is not something I feel when I'm by your side. It never will be. And the reason is very simple: you smile more when I'm with you than when I'm not"

You buried your face in his chest. You were grateful his cloak rested now on your shoulders, for you could truly be enveloped by his warmth. He was right about everything. No matter how awful you felt to leave Gilbert behind, you could not let go of Chevalier. Even that mere fact was proof of who you truly loved. You wanted to spend every day waking up next to him. You wanted his arms to never leave your body. You wanted his comforting voice whispering in your ear in moments when you wanted to cry. You loved him. Chevalier, not Gilbert.

You stayed locked in the safety of that embrace before your brother called your name for outside. The war might had been almost over but there were always matters that required a princess' attention. Chevalier gave you another deep kiss before you left for the central tent. He wore back his thick cloak and gave a nod of gratitude to Jonathan before returning to his own tent.

"Hello.....old friend", Gilbert said coldly as Chevalier entered, "Long time no see".

His eyes were dead, one blue and one red, both devoid of emotion. His eyepatch lay discarded on the small sleeping bag Chevalier used at night. Chevalier walked quietly to pull up another stool and sit opposite Gilbert. An unspoken conversation raged between the two geniuses as they contemplated what their first spoken words should be.

One of his spies surely told Gilbert about the situation, Chevalier thought immediately. He must have shown up here because he knew talking to y/n would be pointless. But what was he trying to achieve? The King himself had given Chevalier his favour and the plan was moving smoothly. No matter what Gilbert did, y/n could refuse him were she given the chance, and her father could easily command him to leave her. After all, Richard was the head of this country they were both sitting so uncomfortably in.

"Are you happy?"

It was not often that Chevalier was stunned, but those three small words spoken out of Gilbert's lips without a hint of mockery were surprising enough to make up for all thirty years of his predictable life. He did not want to provide a reply; there was no way to admit the truth without showing his weakness to his greatest enemy and oldest friend.

"You once told me I was foolish", Gilbert continued, "to believe humans were born to love"

Chevalier looked away. "It is indeed a foolish notion", he said.

"So you're still..."

"Humans were not made to love, but love can change them for the better", Chevalier's crystal blue eyes fixed on Gilbert's with determination, "I was astonished to find out just how much of a fool I am myself"

Gilbert chuckled. "Is that so? Well...", he twisted his cane to reveal a trigger. Soon after, he had turned his walking aid into a riffle that pointed to the Brutal Beast's forehead. "I've killed so many people in my life...what's one more?", Gilbert's voice nearly broke, his finger fiddling with the trigger, "I wouldn't want to live if it wasn't for her..."

"You're not going to..."

Chevalier's sentence was cut short by the bullet that lodged itself in his right shoulder. It knocked him back. He had to use his aching arm to halt his fall as he was shocked off his chair and onto the floor. He groaned in pain, his hand clutching over the wound so that the blood would not seep out uncontrollably. The deafening sound of gunfire still rang in his ears. Gilbert walked to stand next to him. Chevalier felt the cold barrel of the gun chill his collarbone. He frowned. His white shirt had already been half-dyed crimson. Gilbert pressed his shoe over Chevalier's hand that covered the wound.

"I'm more bitter than I thought", the newly revealed Emperor leaned closer to the young King's body, his eyes fixed on the blood dripping down on the ground. He reached inside his coat and retrieved a many-times folded piece of paper. He carefully shoved it inside the Chevalier's pocket before standing up again and pointing the riffle back at the man's chest. "You of all people should know I'm a sore loser", he spoke with sorrow, "But I'm glad to at least tell you...I was right...in our argument"

A group of soldiers soon flooded the tent. A few of the high-ranking generals accompanied them from a safe distance. Everyone reached for their sword. Chevalier gestured towards you not to approach the moment he saw you arriving. Your eyes widened. You squeezed your hands into fists until they drew blood.

"What did you do?", James arrived at the tent, out of breath and out of mind as he ran towards the two men, "Are you insane?"

"Oh hello little traitor", Gilbert moved the gun to point at James' chest. The fragile peace around them was broken. A few soldiers charged Gilbert from behind, locking his arms together, while others desperately tried to pull James away from the mayhem with no meaningful result. "Awww are you arresting me?", Gilbert smirked as the lock of the cuffs rang in the tent, "I have diplomatic immunity you know".

"That counts for nothing after threatening a member of the royal family", Jonathan stepped forward.

"Guess you'll have to take me to your father then", Gilbert said casually, "Shame to be kicked out though, I really liked this place". He chuckled to himself as he was dragged away. In the last moment before he left the tent, he broke free from the soldiers' grasp and ran back to you. He called your name before his lips stole a quick kiss from yours. He leaned close to your ear. "Be happy", he whispered before he was dragged back into the arms of his captors, forcing him out of the tent.

The crowd soon dispersed. All but you, your brothers and Chevalier left the small tent. Jonathan had a squire fetch him some medical supplies and he began treating Chevalier's wound, even though the latter explained he could do it himself. The moment all foreign eyes left you, you ran and knelt next to your lover, softly wrapping your arms around his hurt body. Your body trembled from relief as you heard the steady sound of his breathing.

"I'm sorry....I'm so sorry", you brushed his sweaty locks away from his face.

"You were hardly at fault", he said earnestly, "Though it was rather unfortunate"

"That's putting it lightly", James gritted his teeth, his gaze still fixed at the entrance.

"Calm down James", Jonathan huffed as he finally managed to take out the bullet from Chevalier's shoulder. He dropped it on top of his medical box and began sanitizing the wound. "We should be glad it was your shoulder", he told Chevalier, "You weren't even wearing armour"

"It wouldn't have mattered at that range", James commented, "What we should be thankful of is that it wasn't close enough to cause rupture"

"STOP!", you cried, your hands still clinging to Chevalier.

"It's fine", he took your hand in his and gave a kiss to your warm cheek, "He did not want to hurt me"

"The hell he didn't!", James said furiously, "I can't believe I let this happen! I still don't know how the bastard slipped away!"

"You think it was not his purpose to kill you?", you asked.

Chevalier saw a spark flare behind your eyes; you had noticed it too. He grunted as he pulled out the letter Gilbert had left in his pocket. The paper was particularly thick and he could feel the imprint of a wax stamp as he held it between his fingers.

"Is that a..."

"A non-aggression treaty", Jonathan completed your sentence as the paper was unfolded.

Chevalier scoffed. "Clown", he said under his breath. His uninjured arm wrapped around your waist, pulling your body close to his. He buried his face in your hair, letting your scent conquer his senses and take away the brutal pain his body was in.

"Why the fuck would he do that?", James frowned, "He's got nothing to gain"

"No", you lowered your gaze, "He doesn't". Your fingers combed Chevalier's golden hair as he rested on your shoulder. Be happy, Gilbert had told you. He gave up, traded his own selfish happiness for yours and Chevalier's. You felt like you should cry but you could not. You felt your lover's breath on your soft skin, steady and warm and most importantly there. Gilbert turned himself into a villain and branded Chevalier as a martyr. He made himself into the final piece of a tale epic enough to sway the masses and turn their hearts on your side. The story of your love was now complete, ready to be passed around from mouth to mouth and build a steady fortress to protect your bond from the politics that kept you apart. "Jonathan", you called, "Is his wound okay?"

Jonathan huffed. "I'm done treating it for now", he responded, "It's nothing serious really, should be-"

"Can you and James leave for a sec?", you cut him off, never meeting his bewildered gaze. "Please", you added emphatically.

After that, Jonathan nodded. He pushed James by the shoulder and your two brothers disappeared outside the tent. Minute after minute passed without either you or Chevalier speaking. Your fingers traced the area on your lover's shoulder where the bullet had pierced through. His white shirt was shredded and burned around the border of the hole that had been left in the centre of a dark red spot. Chevalier pulled it back in place after Jonathan had finished stitching up the wound. Your mind was a whirlwind of thoughts and you desperately sought Gilbert's reasoning between them. He had done what you could not do in the end; he had traded his happiness away for yours. If only things had been different...

"No", Chevalier grunted as he sat up. You looked at him quizzically. "The only reason I'd ever stop fighting for us is if you had found happiness with someone else".

You looked at his hand as he spun the ring he gave you on your fingers. "I know"

"I do hate the bastard though", Your brows creased with confusion but Chevalier was quick to dispel it, "I owe him now"

[hwaightme]

Family for Hire (Ch.4)

(family for hire ml) (join series and/or permanent taglist!)

☀️ pairing: single dad!seonghwa x business woman!reader ☀️ genre: fluff, romance, family, domestic, fake marriage, slice of life ☀️ ch. summary: settling into a new routine came with its challenges, of course, but you expected that. what you did not expect, however, was for seonghwa to completely derail your plans for quietude. ☀️ ch. wordcount: 4.7k ☀️ ch. warnings/tags: language, questionably edited, hwa being one jealous boy, a ton of coffee, implied missing breakfast, food/eating, a wild woo and yeo appear, rash decisions, implied lack of sleep, let me know if anything else! ☀️ perma-taglist: @doom-fics @legohwas @acciocriativity @justhere4kpop @honey-lemon-goose @byuntrash101 @shakalakaboomboo @starillusion13 @hongthoven @cqndiedcherries @uwuheeseungie @hoshischeekss @frankenstein852 @charreddonuts @miriamxsworld @mingigoo @michel-angelhoe (can't be tagged: @ate-ez) ☀️ a/n: in anticipation of seonghwa day, hope you enjoy some more single dad hwa~ much love, any reblogs, comments, thoughts, feelings appreciated! apologies if the chapter is chaos, but hey... croissants and coffee!

Chapter 4: When Croissants Fly

Had you known that if you were to make it into the office on time and keep your promise of taking a certain kid to kindergarten, you would have to get up at hell o’clock in the morning – with hell being anything before six, you would have, respectfully, just left the conversation with standard goodbyes and not offered something out of the blue. Nothing could prepare you for the sheer amount of noise that a child could produce that early, when you were used to having an apartment to yourself, a nice, steaming, hot cup of coffee, and the human right to have fifteen minutes of sheer panic as you would realise if you did not hurry up you would be late. But even that panic was independent. You were not holding anyone up, no one was holding you up. You did not have to answer to anyone, nor did you have to be sitting there, in the driver’s seat, praying for a certain someone to ‘just… chill… out…”. Even though it had already been a three, now four days of you driving back and forth, back and forth like an expensive school bus, you still had a lot to get used to.

You glanced back as you stopped at a red light, catching Nari in deep conversation with her father about some drawing homework – something you were suddenly very jealous of. Why couldn’t adults have drawing homework instead of taxes? But nonetheless, no matter how simple the conversation was, each syllable was like a bass boosted hit of a dubstep remix in your cranium. Biting your lip, you attempted to focus on the sound of traffic outside and wondered if your fellow passengers would quieten down if you were to turn on the radio. You caught yourself hovering between being glad to be on better terms with Seonghwa and mini-Co, and wanting to let out an elaborate string of curses that had accumulated since your coffee machine broke this morning, and you, being a silly optimist when it came to appliances, had no alternative of source of energy fuel. This discomfort was apparently obvious enough for Seonghwa to pick up on it, and at the next red light you hear him tell his daughter to wait a second, and call out to you:

“Y/N, are you okay?” the note of concern in his voice made your heart ache and guilt for being so inwardly irritated spread through you. Peering out at the concrete jungle, you tapped the arm rest a couple of times, pondering the question before asking one back.

“What, do I look unequivocally dubious?” you tried to remain as neutral as possible, since Nari did not need to know what passive aggressive behaviour was, so early in her childhood, however Seonghwa was too finely attuned to emotional landscapes for your own good. Perhaps he could even give Yunho a run for his hard-earned ‘through thick and thin’ friend money.

“Oh, no! Not at all, it’s just that, um, I mean, this routine is quite new and must be very troublesome, so-”

“Do I look tired, is that it?” you interrupted gently, Seonghwa’s obvious beating around the bush turning out to be rather amusing, alleviating some of the headache that the day had been providing you with so far. It was hard not to notice how his upper body stiffened as he stared back at you through the rear-view mirror. Deciding to not keep up the limbo of whether he offended you or not, you cracked the brightest smile you could muster, and winked, “I know I do, don’t worry. I am an early bird by caffeine, and the love of my life broke today.”

“The love… of your life?” Seonghwa repeated cautiously, acutely reactive to your particular choice of words. Choosing to not mention how he leaned closer to you, with even his daughter shooting him an inquisitive glance, you simply elaborated on your morning ordeal.

Amidst your dramatic recounting of your battle with the ‘coffee monster’ you had made Nari burst into a fit of giggles, which was a win in your unpaid parenting work experience, though judging by Seonghwa’s unchanging pained expression, something about the moral of the story seemed to not quite fit the unspoken fairy tale standard, and as such, you trailed off into an awkward silence.

“Did you have… breakfast, at least?”

“Sure?”

“Okay, then what was it?”

Somehow in that moment you felt as though you were not supposed to be sat in the driver's seat, and instead in a detention, or in a dim corner for a long timeout. One step away, and you could almost hear Seonghwa saying ‘I promise I am not going to get mad at you if you just tell me the truth’, a notion that made you shudder. What if, unbeknownst to you, he was the kind of parent that would snap too? There was no guarantee that he wasn’t. Many a times you had seen perfectly happy and peaceful kids coming home to… much less than happy families, so if he was going to shout at you, you should just take it. Your grip on the steering wheel grew tighter and you bit your lower lip. The thud of your heartbeat in your temples returned as you pressed on the gas pedal and accelerated, only a couple of blocks away from Nari’s kindergarten already.

“Good stuff.” You brushed the interrogation off, not because you were uncomfortable with your choices, but because it was more than likely that Seonghwa would be, and as such, you ran the risk of exploding in a defensive mode and exposing Nari to a not so pleasant argument. And you were not about that life. You were not into recycling old experiences into new hurt.

Fortunately, Seonghwa got the hint instantly. Like father, like daughter – Nari, upon seeing the young man’s reaction, took it as a sign that she needed to stay put and reserve playtime for later. The rest of the journey crawling through the somnolent sunlit streets was spent in complete silence. You watched and waved back to a once again excited little gremlin, as she hopped out of the car and shouted for her dad to stay back, because she was ‘grown’ and ‘independent’. He had inadvertently shot you a glance upon hearing the words, enjoying the game of pretending that Nari had taken after you a bit too much. You had not looked back, and even how you were supposedly following his precious girl’s run to the front doors had transformed into a thousand-yard stare. Once again, you were in your own world.

“Hey, mind if I move up front?” he pointed at the seat and tilted his head, jolting you out of your turbulent musings.

“Yeah, sure thing. Okay.”

At this proximity, you swore you could catch a hint of his perfume. The vanilla, floral notes and something you could not quite put a finger on was very memorable, and very him. You took a deep inhale and leaned back into the driver’s seat, ready to commence the journey back.

“You can… actually you know what you can drop me off in the business district!” a weight off your shoulders as he suddenly changed your plans for a smoother ride. Masking your relief, you asked for the handsome man to confirm.

“Are you sure? You will need to switch lines… once if I am not mistaken?”

As he ran a hand through his hair, fighting a pesky strand that was threatening to get into his eye, you took the opportunity to study him. Black shirt with a just barely visible patterned design, and the top button undone to reveal three silver necklaces, carefully selected to complement one another. Black trousers, a loose straight cut, falling onto the chunky black and white converse sneakers. And again, that damn perfume that you could not explain to your brain. You did not want to be creepy, but tilted your head towards the man to try and figure out what that mysterious note was. At least you had your question going for you, and your leaning in could be interpreted simply as interest in his response.

“True, but I have some business, ha-ha wow apt, to attend to in the area so…” did not sound like it, but you were not about to argue just when you were in hot water about your morning.

“Okay.” You rolled out of parking, and drove back out onto the street, now bound for your not quite beloved office.

Ever since Monday, you had cemented yourself as one of the first to arrive in the office, and almost always the first to arrive within your assigned team, which had definitely left a good impression on your manager who openly praised you for being so diligent – much to the dismay of the co-workers who enjoyed gossiping about you. But you could not care less since you and Yunho did the exact thing except in reverse. There were some benefits to waking up at hell o’clock, even if it came with socio-gastronomical sacrifices. Which apparently, Seonghwa made his mission to reverse as he sharply turned his head and made a pointing gesture.

“And I’ll buy you breakfast. Y/N don’t you dare argue with me I have access to some dark magic.”

“Like?”

“Here comes the airplane. Wildly effective. So, if you decline then do expect a projectile croissant.” He threatened, stifling a chuckle.

“What if I want to see a croissant fly?” you countered, shaking your head and gleaming, the greyness of the streets which you navigated not appearing so soul draining anymore.

“Well then I will organise that just for you.”

Seonghwa was not sure what had gotten into him, but his desire to step in and help was nearly unbearable. You were every bit a business person, rushing and dedicating your life to your career even if you did have friends and family. But as he knew from having been working together with someone who had an awfully similar mindset to you, such people often forgot to take care of themselves. It was as if you deemed yourselves either not worthy of time spent, or you never felt the need nor the appeal of caring. And if you were to be acting in the role of his wife, the last thing Seonghwa wanted to see was you masking a perpetual misery. You were striving for best behaviour when you were interacting with Nari, showing a playful and easy-going side of you that he thought that he would never get the chance to see again, and generally were working hard to impress his daughter. But it seemed that you needed a push in the right direction of how exactly you could make him even happier than he already was.

You were dangerously attractive when you were driving, he concluded. The unwavering focus on the road, paired with reflexive movements as you reacted to what you had probably predicted ages in advance was making Seonghwa unreasonably flustered, and he had to force himself to look at the lines on the road instead of constantly looking at you. You had been one of the few people in university who had been a ‘designated driver’, along with your closest friend through the years, since most of the others dismissed the skill as something for a ‘later time’ and not immediately important for studies. It had amused him when these same people would then beg for you to effectively become a carpooling service. Even more amusing was that you had always had the guts to decline.

Now, your driving style had gotten even more refined, more natural. It was clear that you had long passed the stage of novice driver, too many miles and experiences under your wheels to still be considered a learner. Cruising through the city, cruising through life. Seonghwa doubted that you would remember, but there had been one time when you two had been sat, just like this, listening to some indie music that you had said helped you focus. But now the silence you shared was heavier, the impact of every action having the potential to cause greater damage. As such, he kept the memory to himself, instead drifting into the pleasant rumble of the car engine.

Right when the sun washed over Seonghwa’s side of the car after having hopped out from behind a skyscraper, forcing him to flip open the visor, it hit you. Coffee. Of course that last note had to be coffee.

With a croissant in one hand an a steaming takeaway cup of coffee in the other, mother goose in the form of a cheery Seonghwa ushered you towards your office, wishing you a good day at least twice, while you kept on trying to explain the best way to get to the metro station as, clearly, he had not planned his ‘business’ out in the slightest.

If you had been aware that his business was to make sure you had at least some form of nourishment and perked up to a satisfactory level, you would have probably thrown hands, so the young man had to resort to being cryptic, rocking on his feet, hands stuffed in his pockets as he said one last goodbye to you and followed your form as you entered your building, crossed a large reception area, passed some security turnstiles and finally, were swallowed by an elevator. So this was how this life was.

He closed his eyes and listened to the industrial noise. The whirring of cars all around him, construction of a new residential complex, designed not for aesthetic purposes, but to eventually raise the land price, the chatter of people who made the financial world, and as such the world itself turn, the whistling of a strong breeze that hit the top floors, zooming past antennae, wiring and air conditioning exhausts. A beautiful, cold world that he had previously imagined himself in. Seonghwa peeked out once again to take in the surroundings: the glossy windows, the sleek modern architecture and abstract expressionist sculptures installed in miniature street squares. Funny how, as he had seen you enter one of the many ant houses, a sense of clarity washed over him. This was your habitat. Your home. Not his. And he should not beat himself up over it. Especially when you were so much more passionate about it, and as such so much more deserving of the best space here.

You were there, behind one of the many windows, working hard for success. And now, he was part of that strenuous operation, at least by a fraction. That was what he could do, and how he could contribute. The possibility of you and him collaborating in enviable synchronicity was an exciting prospect, now that he could feel the space in which you worked. He could handle his tasks, you could handle yours – the domestic daydreaming left him breathless as he began to amble in a random direction, not taking his eyes off the bright blue sky.

Except his blissful state of ideation did not last long enough for him to plot as far as he would like. Two men in what had to be designer office wear were standing next to him at a pedestrian crossing, waiting for the light to turn green. But that in itself was harmless. It was the fact that the shorter of the two, the one who was explaining something very animatedly to his colleague, practically painting a scene with his hands, suddenly mentioned your name – each syllable resounding like a gunshot.

Could it be someone else? Maybe there was another Y/N out there, in this same district – there were thousands of people in these offices, so the chances were definitely not zero. But as Seonghwa discreetly listened in, it became clearer and clearer – these were your colleagues, and they were talking about you. And in a way that set off every single alarm bell in Seonghwa’s totally mission-focused brain.

“Look Yeo, I’m telling you she is super cute. And I don’t give me that look. So what if she agreed to a meeting only on Friday? It doesn’t mean you have zero chance.”

Sure you do. Seonghwa mentally responded, but furrowed his brows as he realised that he was being protective of someone who was not actually his someone, but a fake someone who, in reality, he was conducting questionable business with. Technically, that meant that you could date in secret – as long as it was hidden from the eyes of your superiors. Would you do it? There wasn’t exactly any infidelity to speak of if you did, since he was just an old college friend and a complicated present social tie-up. No. No you couldn’t. This kind of connection would risk your promotion, wouldn’t it? Whatever these fiends were plotting could very well ruin your career, and he, acting in the role of your husband, had to think of a strategy to put a stop to this.

“It just means that she is a busy woman, on her grind, achieving and thriving – just your type, isn’t that right?” the enthusiastic man who, much like Seonghwa, was dressed head to toe in black, and sported a long parted fringe that framed his beaming face, continued his encouragements. Except the mention of types, he was right, at least. You were busy. Too busy to consider them, so they should make their damn exit.

The stubborn light was still red as cars continued to dash past the trio. The man by the name of Yeo, which Seonghwa assumed was an abbreviation or a nickname, was good looking enough for him to be irritated. A muscular physique, with perfect skin and impeccably styled locks that highlighted his features that looked to have been sculpted by some aesthetic deities… yes, this man had to disappear out of yours and Seonghwa’s shared life immediately. Seonghwa did not need a man he ‘did not have to worry about’ right there in the same office space as you.

“Mm, right.”

A man of few words, huh? Maybe that was his problem. Then there was a chance that you would drop him fast as lightning – you liked your philosophical discussions, always did and if he could not formulate an opinion, he was automatically out of the game-

“But I do not wish to be a burden for her, Wooyoung. As much as I admire and respect her, I am only a slot in her timetable at the moment. And whilst I appreciate your support, we should remain realistic and pace ourselves.”

Shit. His voice was deep and dependable. And he had fantastic rhythm to his speech. Uh oh. Seonghwa suddenly wished that he was still in the café with you, and had, instead of letting you go to have the strong double shot of bitterness at your desk, insisted that you spent some more time together. Then he would not hear this atrocity, and since the café was not far from the building, they might have detected you in the shop front window.  Would have been a win-win situation. Alas, this Yeo, and his equally ambitious friend Wooyoung had to be combatted in more creative ways.

Seonghwa’s hands moved on their own accord as he took out his mobile phone, scrolling to the contact he had saved as ‘wife’, with not one but two upwards graph emojis as an ode to your job, and clicking the call button. As he heard you answer with a cautious, whispered hello and an elaboration that he should wait a second as you moved to a conference room, the initial wave of panic subsided and he relaxed into your tone.

“What is it, Hwa?” if only he could loop how you said his nickname and listen to it whenever he wanted… no, he must remain focused.

“Hey, Y/N!” he purposefully spoke louder, spotting in his peripherals that he had caught the attention of the duo. Their conversation had lulled, and they were pretending to be looking at the light to cross, but in reality, were tuning their imaginary antennae to pick up more of the conversation.

“Yes, ‘tis me. And we literally just spoke, what’s up?” he heard a sliding of a door, and the ambiance changing to that of a closed space, giving your voice more space to bloom and show its colour. Seonghwa smiled, stalling a bit before picking up a simple conversation topic, but pointing towards a mock level of intimacy that a certain Yeo should never reach.

“How’s the breakfast?” he refrained from chuckling as he saw Wooyoung appear particularly bewildered.

“Honestly it was exactly what I needed right now, I am already feeling so much better. Thank you for it, and for treating me, really.”

“Oh, not a problem at all! Anything for you.” Even though he inwardly cringed at the phrase, it seemed to have a desired effect on his audience who exchanged confused glances. At the same time, you moved the phone away from you and snorted in laughter.

“You sound so awkward right now what the hell? You good?” he needed to think fast. How could he avoid saying that he was ‘overstepping boundaries and barely a week into a fake relationship was acting lowkey possessive of you to the point where he felt the need to assert dominance over people who simply mentioned you’? That was right. What was going to annoy you enough to let go of his questionable behaviour?

“Uhm… well, could you point me in the direction of the metro again?” Bingo. The groan that you let out, and undoubtedly followed by a rolling of the eyes, was enough for him to confirm that you fully bought the little fib. He swore he heard that same man, Wooyoung, scoff, while Yeo remained suspiciously quiet.

“Are you kidding me? I literally just explained that from the café, you take a right, and then-”

“Ah, a right… so that’s where the problem is…” he continued, intentionally adding sprinklings of cluelessness to his act.

“You can’t be serious… Park Seonghwa where are you?” strict, but adorably concerned for his wellbeing, you asked.

“At a crossing.”

“What crossing?”

“There is a fancy fountain on the other side of the street.”

“You’re there? Damn, you know what, stay put, I will walk you to the station seeing as you are directionally challenged.” And with that, he could make out the sound of footsteps on a carpeted floor, a rustling as you probably pressed the phone to your shirt, distant ‘I’ll be back in a bit’ and, in a matter of moments, clicking and a much stronger echo to each sound.

“I’ll take that label and wear it with pride, Y/N. Then, see you soon, yeah?”

“Uh-huh, oh directionally challenged man. I’ll be there in five. Stay put and don’t get lost in the square please. Like, find a bench or something and don’t move.” A ding of an elevator. You ended the call. And now, each stride like that of a victor in a ruthless battle, he overtook the two men who were not so discreetly gawking at him, with the goal of finding some bench in the square to sit on and await your arrival.

Seonghwa thought that his performance was over, and relaxed into the seat that he had stumbled upon: partially in the shade of a green maple, but still welcoming some of the more amiable sun rays. But little did he know that, instead of this being an epilogue to the indirect interaction with your colleagues that threatened his pride, he had just inadvertently completed a tutorial, and now was in for a game of a lifetime.

“Uhm, excuse me? Pardon for my very rude behaviour, but I believe I overheard you mentioning a certain Y/N that works around here?”

Seonghwa raised his head, which had previously been resting on the back of the bench, only to discover that the two men he had perceived as a threat to his status, in particular that Greek statue in the form of Yeo, were standing right in front of him, expectant.

“Yes… I did indeed. And who are you, if you don’t mind me asking?”

“Ah, before we introduce ourselves, would you confirm if this is L/N Y/N you were talking to?”

“…Yes?” Seonghwa stood up, in a last-minute effort to be polite towards the gentlemen, who only a few minutes ago, he wanted to erase from the planet, or at least from your plans. They accepted the gesture and gave him space.

The sun was beating down on Seonghwa more aggressively than before, making him wonder whether this was due to it actually getting hotter, or because he was more and more enticed by the idea of the ground opening up beneath him and letting him exit the conversation.  

“Right, sorry for the suddenness. It’s just that we are her colleagues. Well, from different departments but still. I am Jung Wooyoung. Human Resources.” A bow, another bow. Wooyoung did not look too pleased, clearly reading his every micromovement.

“I’m Kang Yeosang. Cybersecurity.” Passive enough, neither of the two cared enough to try and be threatening.

“And you?” Wooyoung inquired, raising his eyebrows.

“Ah yes, apologies. Park Seonghwa. Department not found.”

Polite chuckles. Dead silence. Wind whistling. Where were you? The three fumbled for anything to say, finally settling on the weather, and then moving towards neutral work topics. Evidently, Wooyoung had a lot more to say, and with each passing minute, the coil on which said questions were contained was being wound tighter and tighter, until it was ready to damn near detonate.

“What is this gang meet up, huh?” finally, you appeared from behind a tall hedge, your work pass hanging around your neck from a lanyard, swaying with each step you took. Once you approached the group, you looked at each member of the trio, pausing when you saw Yeosang.

“Ah hello! You must be Yeosang, right? I guess we are meeting sooner than expected.” Chuckling in pure corporate, you nodded in greeting.

“Indeed, we are. Nice to meet you.”

“Likewise.”

“So, Y/N, care to explain… this mister Seonghwa?” Wooyoung interjected, his curiosity getting the best of him.

This was deeply disconcerting, you concluded. There was an element to this ordeal that you were missing, and this element was crucial to understanding how Wooyoung was going to proceed. He was smart, perceptive. You could even dare to say ‘cunning’. And it was apparent that he had caught onto something, and was not going to let go until everything came to light. You bit the inside of your cheek as you glanced at Seonghwa, who was doing everything in his power to avoid eye contact. There was one clean way out, and one that was inevitably going to make you, and the man in front of you snowball into something only fate could decide the outcome of. While chances were slim, nevertheless you took the first option…

“Well, you already got to know one another. I’d say that’s enough. Now, I need to take this man to the metro so if you don’t mind, we will be heading over yonder-” …only for it to fail miserably as Wooyoung saw through you.

“Oh no, no, like… who is this? A friend? A boyfriend? I need details, you are having breakfast and stuff together… who is he?”

If looks could kill, then you would be a fake widow. It did not take much brain power to figure out that the conversation you had over the phone had been staged for whatever reason. And now, you were in a mess where your little sitcom for a promotion might shut down… unless you committed. Fully. Wooyoung was staring you down. Yeosang had one eyebrow raised and arms crossed, judging. And Seonghwa was only a few levels away from impersonating Edvard Munch’s ‘The Scream’. To hell with all of this. Deep breath in. Breath out.

“My husband.”

[doc-art]

ask a silly question but do you have refs or tips on how you draw like big fat women like you do? i need to draw more paunchy women

studying from life is a good way to go about it! A good resource for construction is "morph - fat and skin folds" by Michel lauricella.

mixing real life with stuff I see other artists do is also good, gets a nice blend of realism and fantasy/exaggerated proportions. My furaffinty favs have plenty of my inspos in there.

ive got some handy ref/tuts/tips in the cut below, I need to take the time to post my process/make my own tutorials someday.

This tutorial by Endivinity is also super handy.

Some of the boards on 4chan can be handy for photos, like /s/ or /trash/, but its 4chan, so ya gotta stomach some hot garbage to find the good stuff.

I thought I had more refs/tutorials for larger bodies but I think a lot of my stuff has just been raw personal studies, of which it would probably help if I noted the stuff down lol.

[revasserium]

Hey hon! 👋🏻😊

I'd love to request #153. "Miraculous ruin" from your prompt list with Chevalier Michel!

thank u for the req @randonauticrap!!! <3 i hope u like it! reqs are open!

153. miraculous ruin

chevalier; 857 words; fluff and neck kisses with the smallest wafting of angst but mostly just me meditating on chev bc... well, who wouldn't want to meditate on chev

there are no winners in wars — but sometimes, just sometimes, there are survivors.

there’s blood dark as grape skins staining chevalier’s robe when he comes back. you purse your lips and reach for him. he is still for only a moment, and then he softens, reaching for you as well, letting long, cool fingers trail into your hair, curling into the roots as he tips your head back for a kiss. another kiss. another. another.

there is blood as dark as grape skins but between your lips you crush them to wine.

his breathing is ragged and blood thrums hot beneath your skin as he grazes his teeth against your pulse, his lips skimming past your collarbones, fingers tugging at the fine material of your chemise.

he kisses you like a question, like he’s searching for the answer in the warmth of your mouth, along the backs of your teeth. and all you can do is kiss him back like perhaps, if you tried hard enough, you could give him something like an answer.

“y-y’know…” you murmur, gasping as he presses you back into the silken sheets, “i read an in-interesting thing in a book today…”

“oh?” chevalier lifts his head, his eyes bright and sharp, even beneath the hazy glow of lust, the mention of books never fails to draw his interest. you smile, shift up the bed ever so slightly to lean against the headboard, letting your own fingers trail along the delicate line of his neck.

“yes… it said that the neck is one of the most intimate places to kiss a person… even more so than the lips.”

at this, the corners of his lips twitch. you allow yourself your own smile as he tugs you back down beneath him, caging you in with his limbs.

“and how so?”

he tips your head back; you feel heat and sweetness gather in the pit of your stomach. his voice is indulgent — so much frost and cream and butter — it tells you that his incredible mind has probably already gotten to the answer. it tells you that he wants to hear you say it anyway.

and isn’t that love? in it’s own way?

your lashes flutter closed as he peppers your skin with butterfly kisses.

“b-because…” you bite back a hiss as he sinks his teeth into your shoulder, the soft of your neck, painting your skin in a daisychain of blossoming reds and purples. you’ll have a time of trying to cover them up tomorrow but perhaps… perhaps you’ll leave them —

“because it would be so easy to kill a person…” you feel his movement still, and perhaps, you think, he’s remembering a time when he had pressed a blade to your throat. such a different kind of kiss, such a different kind of bite that might have made — cool metal against warm flesh.

chevalier pulls back, watching you with steady eyes. once, you’d thought them cold, but these months and days with him had taught you otherwise. with him, you learned that there’s a heat to the blueness, a warmth to the ever-cooling depths of the ocean, the ever-widening expanses of sky. there’s fire, isn’t there? in the sun? in the stars? in the weight of the world as it presses down on the ocean floor. in the so-called monsters that inhabit those depths, but they too find a way to make light, their bodies changing and adapting over centuries to make it themselves.

chevalier smiles and he is incandescence.

he is the fire in the heart of stars, he is the luminescence at the bottom of the seas.

with him, you learned that blue is heat and fire and light and life, too. always, life.

so much — life.

“yes… it would be easy to kill you like this,” he muses, his tone almost academic in its lightness. but you feel the way his lips linger on your jugular, your own heartbeat stuttering beneath his touch.

“yes… but instead…” you close your eyes and lean into his touch.

“instead…” he echoes, kissing you slow, kissing you soft, kissing you till you are trembling beneath him, open and willing and —

“you choose to kiss me.”

to love me.

he chuckles, the sound rumbling through his chest as he buries his face in the crook of your neck, pulling you into his arms as he rests beside you on the bed.

“yes. i do.”

it’s a simple thing, but his agreement isn’t so easily earned. you revel in it, curl into him as he lets out a sigh.

there is no getting the blood out of his robes — he’ll have to have another made. and then another after that. there are no winners in wars, but you know that there will be survivors. you glance up at him, resting with his eyes closed, and you allow yourself another smile.

you lean up, slow, tilt your head and press your lips to the side of his neck. a kiss. another kiss.

another. another.

another.

[xerxeswitch]

Hihi!

Just curious, what's it like being a psychic vamp?

Ahh, well... To be honest, I've always been hesitant on describing what it's like without sounding...condescending or creepy. Because in all honesty, I don't like being a psychic vampire for these reasons. No, I'm not the psychic vampire who goes stereotypically all gothic, dark, and edgy about it showing how much I want to relish in blood. (Though I do wear gothic things at times, and the appearance of my blog is kind of edgy so I'm probably just a walking contradiction) ... The way I see it, I just go out in public and just ... feed. As in I just go to my favorite spot in public and just...take in their energy passively like breathing. That's pretty much it. -------------------- As for the in-depth take on it, well... It's that pull. That energetic hunger that can even extend to physical hunger. It's not just any hunger...it claws into your energy and just gnaws on you sadistically. Sometimes, I go to my favorite local coffeeshop and just do my own work there. I take in the flavors of energy from others and the exhaust of energy from them too. I just feed off of them and I sense their flavors and even how healthy they are. Some energies taste like fresh fruits, some taste like moldy cheese -- it depends on how much my energy filters and consume. Soon enough, I want more and more. I want to dig deep until I hit that vital energy where its more potent. My energy spread out like tendrils going around towards each person and it makes me feel uneasy. I look at the people around me like I'm observing wildlife -- as bad and as cringey as that sounds...But listen, I don't hate people. I actually like people. I am fascinated by people good or bad. Just like being out in nature and observing the wildlife around me, that's how I feel about things when I go out and feed. ... Trust me, I want to stop and just be 'normal.' But every time I just avoid feeding, I would get bad heart palpitations and chest pains. I went to the hospital a few times and found nothing. It was instantly remedied when I do feed off of others. (Michelle Belanger had the same occurrence and shame about things too. I would suggest reading her book about it called the "Psychic Vampire Codex") --- In truth, I am ashamed that I do see what I feed off of as only livestock at times, it makes me feel like weirdo. Maybe one day, I'll wake up and just realized I'm just someone who needs professional help after all. I'm not beyond that. -- But...that's how it feels to me personally. It may not be what you expected but that's what I feel about it to the core. I don't feel empowered. Opposite actually... I just feel embarrassed about it, and I don't believe there's any "empowerment" or strength in drawing energy from others... other than it's indicating that we are weak without the dependence of another source. That's just me though. Maybe I'll figure it out myself one day. -- I know this may not be what someone might be expecting when you ask this question but...this is my take on my own experience.

[saturndigital]

im not the anon who asked for that art tut but i was wondering if you could explain how you stylize ur anatomy , its one of my absolute favorite things about ur art !!

Oh, that's a very good question! First and foremost, understanding anatomy in the real world is an important step to being able to accurately stylize it! You're not required to do so, but doing life studies of models can help train yourself to understand proportion and perspective.

My anatomy stylization actually comes from a few artists, the main one being Matt Rhodes. Rhodes has a few wonderful compilations of how he breaks down and studies anatomy which is super fun to observe, alongside that he has an amazing understanding of composition and perspective.

(Matt Rhodes - Axe Sharpening II: The Ensharpening)

Another artist I learned from is TB Choi. Choi actually has a great art book detailing how they stylize and draw anatomy/art in general. Def recommend checking it out.

(TB Choi - Online Class Demo)

With these in mind, I use an underlying basic skeleton/shapes such as the ribcage, pelvis, head, and any joints to start chipping away at it!

I am no expert compared to the artists I am inspired by, but going out and studying guides from them and doing constant anatomy studies has helped me improve in the past 2 years. Don't be afraid to go slow with your anatomy and use real-life references! If you get stuck, you can always take a break to let your brain process.

If you want some books to learn more about this subject here are a few I recommend:

Classical Anatomy - Valerie L. Winslow

Constructive Anatomy - George B. Bridgman

Morpho: Simplified Forms - Michel Lauricella (any Morpho books are great tbh this is just a good starter)

[gokartkid]

maxiel 15?

15. things you said with too many miles between us

“Uhh, yeah, hold on Daniel.”

Max’s phone is lying on the couch face up, tinny noises playing out of its speakers as he mashes furiously at the buttons on his playstation controller.

“Is your little-“ Max can hear him half-laughing, a crunch of static, “footy game not going well.”

“Actually,” he makes a face, drawing his knees up into his chest and curling his toes as- “I have just scored a goal!”

The sound of clapping from the phone.

“Nice one Max, didn’t expect anything less from a champion.” 

He can imagine Daniel’s face right now, smiling and kind of indulgent, the way he gets when he doesn’t really knows what’s going on but he’s happy to be there. 

Daniel is remarkably bad at games. It’s like, the controllers have an aversion to his hands, or that his hands have an aversion to them. Max has been confused about this every single time they’ve tried to play something together. ‘It’s just like the wheel but different’ is a sentence he’s said too many times to count.

Daniel always argues back that it’s nothing like the wheel because he knows what those buttons do and people tell him what they want him to push half the time. 

The lobby is loading again, waiting for a match.

“How has your day been?”

It’s late, for Daniel, all the way on the other side of the world.

Max hears him sigh.

“It’s been pretty good,” there’s a shuffling noise, like he’s moving around in bed, “Michelle came over, cause they’ve been away on their school holidays for ages, big trip to the Gold Coast.”

Max whistles, wiggles the joysticks around absentmindedly, fits his thumb into the groove. The circle on the screen goes around, and around.

They’re used to this routine, of Daniel being gone; it doesn’t hurt Max, he wants him to see his family. He hasn’t seen them enough over the years, if anything. Now that he has the freedom too, he should enjoy it. It’s only that if Max does miss him while he’s gone, that’s neither here nor there.

He has to remind himself anyway, that if he misses Daniel, then he must miss him back. He’s the one that calls most of the time anyway, although, that might be more about how he hates to text. 

“Did they have fun?”

“Oh yeah, heaps, Isabella couldn’t stop talking about uh,” he pauses, “this like, one slide they went on at the Wet’n’Wild.”

“Ah, that’s cute.”

Max readjusts on the couch and picks his phone back up. They’ve been calling for about two hours now, the screen tells him, before he swipes it away to get into his apps.

It’s idle chat as Daniel gets ready for bed. He can hear him brushing his teeth, asks a question on purpose to hear him say it funny around the brush and then laugh, honking more when Daniel splutters and gets faux-annoyed.

“Are you going to sleep?”

Daniel’s yawned about three times in the last 10 minutes. Max wonders if it actually is very embarrassing to get a little warm feeling in his chest about that. 

He scores a goal and tilts backwards into the couch, grinning.

“Yeah, probably,” a click, like his phone’s been set down somewhere hard, “you’re gaming, yeah?”

“It’s just the morning here now, so-“ he bites back a curse as the other team dodges past his defenders, “-I’ll be working out later, Brad has this new routine he wants me to try. Of course, I think that it will be the same as all of the rest of them but, you know.”

“Okay then,” Daniel yawns, again. 

“Go to sleep, old man.”

“Yeah, yeah,” a pause, “love you Maxy. Have a good day, or, whatever.”

“Love you too.” He tries to sound cool and nonchalant, but his thumbs jerk where they were pushing at the joysticks, “goodnight.”

[aquagirl1978]

Hi again, Aqua! For the fall prompts, may I request Chevalier + changing seasons + fluff with a side of he's caught cold and his voice is all nasally?

Do you know what a challenge it was to make Chevalier - a man so perfect, he would never get sick - come down with a cold?

The Queen's Command - Chevalier Michel x Reader (Ikemen Prince)

A/N: Part of the Fall Fluff / Autumn Angst ccc hosted by myself and @violettduchess

Pairing: Chevalier Michel x Reader

Prompt: changing seasons

Tags: fluff

How many years have you stood in this room watching him? How many springs, summers, autumns and winters have you watched him grow, admiring him more and more with each year together? He sat at his desk, tall in his chair, as he had done for so many years, meticulously reviewing the documents before him. 

Upon a first glance, one would not think he had even changed much over the years - his hair was still light and golden, the crinkles around his eyes when he smiled only slightly more prominent. There was, however, one more obvious change recently.

You watched with amusement as he held the document further away, a poor attempt to read its contents with minimal squinting. With a disappointed sigh, he reached into a draw to retrieve his reading glasses. Putting them on with a frown, he continued his review. 

“I find them annoying. A hindrance,” he said without looking up from his papers, answering you before you even said a word. His voice sounded off. Not his usual rich baritone, it sounded nasally, as if he was coming down with a cold.

“But they make you look so handsome.” You approached his desk, perching on its edge. Thumb on his chin, you tilted his face up to yours, blue eyes bright and deep as the ocean. "But…"

You pressed the back of your hand against his forehead. Warm. “How do you feel?”

“I feel -” 

He turned his head as he removed a golden silk handkerchief embroidered with his crest from his breast pocket with a fluid grace that only came with being born into royalty. Tilting his face to the side away from you, he quietly sneezed into the cloth. Even his sneeze was perfect and majestic.

He returned the handkerchief to his pocket and looked at you, his expression stoic. “I feel fine.”

“You’re not fine,” you argued, your voice rising. “You need to rest.”

“I have work to finish,” he said, his gaze returning to the pile of documents on his desk.

“It’s already late; Clavis can finish that tomorrow.” Chevalier bristled and looked up at you in horror, as if you had suggested something truly wretched. “Queen’s command,” you ordered. He raised an eyebrow, silently questioning you. 

“As your queen,” you said, staring straight into his icy eyes, “I demand you rest. Let me take care of you.”

Your fingers caressed his cheek before removing his reading glasses; he sighed loudly as you returned them to their designated place in his drawer. Taking his gloved hand in yours, you nudged him up and out of his chair. 

With your king by your side, you smiled at him, pleased with how compliant he had been, your smile soon fading when you realized he was likely more under the weather than he had been letting on. You walked in silence as you made your way back to your shared bedroom.

Once there, you both got ready for bed, quickly changing into your night clothes. 

“Read to me?” he asked as you joined him in the large bed.

“Of course,” you replied. He smiled at you softly as he handed you the book that was lying on the table by his bed. Pulling the soft covers over your bodies, Chevalier rested his head on your chest, his body warm against yours. 

Your fingers traced the ornate gold-embossed lettering on the leather bound book in your hands; it was a newer book, one you had picked up for Chevalier only a few weeks ago, when the bookstore you used to work at received a new shipment of books from a nearby foreign country. 

Opening the book to where he had left off, you began to read aloud while his arm curled around your waist. Stroking his soft hair, you soon noticed the tiger in your arms was fast asleep. Closing the book quietly, you returned it to the nightstand where it came from. Your head soon found the comfort of the plush pillow underneath, your arms embracing your love. You brushed a kiss to his forehead before allowing your eyes to drift closed.

Tagging: @redheadkittys @alixennial @rhodolitesrose @atelieredux @kissmetwicekissmedeadly @chaosangel767 @queengiuliettafirstlady @queen-dahlia @devildomwritersposts @talfollowingstuff @kpop-and-otome @kisara-16 @altairring @lucyw260 @lordsisterxotome @violettduchess @umi-adxhira @bellerose-arcana @yarnnerdally @scorchieart @crypticbibliophile @cilokgoang

[uispeccoll]

#VoicesFromTheStacks

Images: Left, Photo of Creativity Explored community in front of entrance. Right, Creativity Explored artists Ruthie Freeland, Eddie Hippley, Michelle Kunard, and Vernon Streeter (counter clockwise from top left)

Creativity Explored

Founded in 1983 by Florence and Elias Katz, Creativity Explored, a studio-based collective in San Francisco, sought to create a space which fosters the creative expression of artists with disabilities. Creativity Explored has supported the careers of hundreds of artists since its foundation through means of training, offering supplies and resources as well as exhibition and sales opportunities. With the belief of centering the personhood and agency of the artists within the collective, the voice of disabled artists has come to the forefront through their work.  

Images: Cover, inside and zines from the Whipper Snapper Nerd first edition held in UIowa Special Collections.

In 1994, two volunteers at Creativity Explored – Harrell Fletcher and Elizabeth Meyer – began collaborating on a zine series titled Whipper Snapper Nerd. Each issue of the series has been devoted to the work of one artist from Creativity Explored and includes reproductions of their work and an interview. Here in the Ruth and Marvin Sackner Archive housed in Special Collections and Archives, we are fortunate to have the first copy of a limited edition set of Whipper Snapper Nerd. Included in the collection are the first four issues of the series centered on artists Barbara Doehrman, John Patrick McKenzie, Jimmy Miles, and Michael B. Loggins. Due to the relationship Ruth and Marvin Sackner had formed with Creativity Explored, this first edition of the collection also included additional pieces from artist John McKenzie and another zine from Michael B. Loggins.  

Images: Left, inside front cover of zine featuring the art and photo of Jimmy Miles. Right, inside front cover of zine featuring the art and photo of Michael Loggins.

A true highlight of each issue of Whipper Snapper Nerd are the interviews between each artist with either Fletcher or Meyer. Through these interviews readers get an insight into the interests, beliefs, and processes each artist has that translates into their work. Here the artists discuss their experience creating at Creativity Explored as well as any topic that should come up. The artists are honest, poignant, funny, and at times even blunt – it is fantastic. We learn that Barbara loves The Brady Bunch and cats. Jimmy doesn’t like questions, but he does love drawing planes. Michael loves hearing people laugh and has found the perfect jokes to tell his girlfriend Hope. John doesn’t like Linda Ronstadt or John Lennon but loves Curious George.  

Images: Left, inside front cover of zine featuring art and photo of John Patrick McKenzie. Right, inside front cover of zine featuring art and photo of Barbara Doehrman.

Outlets like Creativity Explored are invaluable to a community which has been underrepresented and invalidated. Art is a universal language and allows freedom of expression and creativity that holds special importance for those with intellectual or developmental disabilities. Creating a similar space for disabled artists locally, Systems Unlimited, developed an arts center to promote radical inclusion through art in Eastern Iowa. Here, artists are supported and empowered to contribute to a creative community not only in Iowa but beyond.  

Did you know? 

Up to 1 in 4 (27%) adults in the United States have some type of disability 

More than half of all adults with both cognitive and mobility disabilities reported mental destress 

Engaging with art has been found to increase psychological health, boost self-esteem, reduce PTSD symptoms, and enhance communication skills.  

At the University of Iowa, we also have services at the student level [UI Students for Disability Advocacy & Awareness (UISDAA)] and institutional level [Student Disability Services (SDS)]. 

-Kaylee S., Special Collections, Olson Graduate Assistant. 

[steampunkforever]

Horror is a genre noted for sequels. This is something Ti West touched on when discussing his X horror trilogy. Sequels, good or bad, are inherent to the artform, unlike more elevated genres in which the sequel serves as a corruption of the artform. Yet even within this, the Horror sequel rarely explores the psychological impact of the last film on its survivors, much less explores the topic well. Among films that do this well are Terminator 2, Psycho 2, Hellbound: Hellraiser 2, and now Ti West's newest film: MaXXXine.

I've been a fan of Ti West's X Trilogy from day one, so in going to see MaXXXine opening week the question of the day centered solidly on if the film could pull it off and stick the landing for the final film of the series. Another question stalked close behind: "Is it good?"

I disagree with critics here (siding instead with Martin Scorsese) when I say that I enjoyed the film and found it to match the quality of the series as a whole. MaXXXine is a good film that, despite my 1980s fatigue, pulls off the grimy 80s LA like few films trying to capture the period do. That said, Pearl is still my favorite of the three movies.

Something to understand about the films in this trilogy is that they wholeheartedly embrace filmic genre conventions of the period they're set in (Well with Pearl, sorta. It's really leans more toward the 30s than the actual period it's in but we'll ignore this for the sake of my point). For all it's Psycho references, X leans into the Chainsaw massacre context of its 70s slasher predecessors. Pearl is a much more psychological horror film because that was the context of the movies it pays tribute to. Which means the very 80s ending of the film may be unsatisfying to some but doesn't necessarily mean the movie itself is deficient. I found it to be one of the weaker sequences of the series, but at the same time I wouldn't go so far as to say that it or the film are bad.

What I really enjoyed about this movie was its take on the aftermath for final girls. Maxine here is not Sarah Connor or Kirsty Cotton. Her reaction to surviving the events of X is to draw away within herself, and if other people are getting got by the night stalker, then so be it. She's doing her best to fend for herself and deal with her own demons, mainly the one where she stares into Pearl's eyes and sees herself. It's a well done exploration and deepens Maxines character as we follow her dealing with (and ignoring) her trauma.

Mia Goth is great in it, as are Kevin Bacon, Michelle Monaghan Giancarlo Esposito, Elizabeth Debicki, and Bobby Cannavale. The gore is nice and juicy, the visuals are richly textured, and they even let Esposito wear a delicious James Brown Wig. Highly enjoyable, even if the narrative of cultural censorship didn't land as hard as it did in X.

It's a good movie, a solid ending to the series that once more references psycho, and I enjoyed it, even if I like Pearl best.

[dailyanarchistposts]

Deserting Social Media, Keeping a Low Profile

As anarchists, we are all aware of the risks that new technologies can involve. It is no surprise that our phones and computers can be tapped and that our favorite websites and social media platforms are monitored by the authorities. This is why, for strategic reasons, we believe that we should minimize our dependence on social media and new technologies in general. How many times has online information—statements, posts, pictures, friendships, events—been used against us in court to add more charges to our cases? We need to be more cautious with these tools in order to protect others and ourselves. As younger generations of activists are joining us for actions like those of May Day, we have to find ways to pass on proper security practices to new participants before they get themselves into trouble.

A Facebook event entitled “May Day 2018: A Day in Hell” and a call for a “revolutionary, determined, and fighting procession” were posted online before the eyes of the world. Our point here is not to attack the authors of this call, but to consider the use of social media as a platform to announce actions. What is the goal of advertising such an event online? Publicity, certainly. It is true that we need to announce events in order to draw people to them who are not already involved in our circles, but perhaps there could be a way to do this that would not also forewarn the authorities as to the character of our plans. When we do so, it enables them to prepare strategies for media narrative and repression in advance. Of course, the authorities already suspected that we intended to join the traditional procession and unleash hell, as we did in the past; but we should not make it easy for them to predict where and how we will strike, nor to identify the most confrontational elements. Regarding such press statements from our side, they may sometimes be necessary, but we should avoid publicity stunts of all kinds, and we also have to consider what the process is by which it is determined which actions are announced and how. These announcements can make things possible, but they can also make things impossible. One of the greatest structural challenges of organizing in the 21st century is how to resist the dictatorship of those who have the most media access.

Because we openly announced our intention to carry out a frontal assault, the authorities had plenty of time to prepare a trap for us. They used this call to warn trade union leaders and to stir up the tensions that exist between them and some individuals in the leading procession. We should take care not to use rhetoric or publicity strategies that will leave us more isolated and vulnerable in the end. There is no doubt that the government is increasing its pressure on us, and an approach that works once may not work so well the next time. Michel Delpuech, the Police Commissioner of Paris, reported that the police and government officials were generally pleased with the results of the law enforcement strategy they used on May Day, and that they already knew in advance what our main targets were: the train station and the district police station.

All this raises a lot of questions regarding our discretion, our ability to stay under the radar while getting organized until the day of the action, and also our ability to remain unpredictable. We should not depend on social media to communicate among ourselves, and we should be intentional in determining which information we share in different venues. There have to be other safer ways to reach out to others—especially newer generations—without having to rely on social media or voluntarily drawing attention to ourselves before an action. For us, the solution lies deeper underground, in our informal assemblies, gatherings, meetings, and parties, where real human interactions and affinities can flourish. It is there, and through meeting new people in the streets or during actions, that we can develop and extend new informal connections and solidarity while escaping as much as possible from the constantly increasing state surveillance.