#on a side note i coloured this in reverse of my usual process

[darqx]

The best fun of a new year 🎇 HAPPY NEW YEAR

Sometimes I like to take the screenshots i show to my sibling and turn it into a process gif lol.

[yangkitties]

giving them flowers ✩ skz

pairing: ot8 x gn!reader || word count: 1.7k genre: 100% fluff 🫶 || warnings: none, vaguely proofread 😁 synopsis: skz when you give them flowers out of the blue! note: i am so sorry for taking so long with this post, i js got so caught up in so many things 😭 anyways i hope y'all enjoy it <3<3 also abby i hope you're happy its finally out, now plz get out of my walls 😘

Chan: 

cries a little for sure 

the ‘for me? rlly? rlly? rlly?’ kinda guy

kisses you so much like for real

takes the BEST care of the flowers, they survive for a whole two weeks somehow 

even dries and presses them after they wilt and frames them <3 

Disbelief washed over Chan’s face, his brain slowly processing what had just happened. He slowly drunk in the fact that you had brought him a bouquet of flowers, just because you could. 

He watched silently as you presented the flowers to him him. Gingerly taking them from your hands, he observes in awe at the multitude of colours. 

‘Are these really for me?’ He looks up at you with glossy eyes, head tilting to the side. You can only giggle, adoring his cute habits. You lean in to place a chaste kiss on his forehead, your actions speaking more than an essay of reassuring words ever could have.

‘I was walking back home and the bouquet reminded me of you.  I had to get it, it would be a crime if I didn’t.’ 

The simple action warmed Chan’s heart, love and affection coursing through his veins. He hugged you suddenly, nuzzling his head into your neck. You smiled into his hair, enjoying the contact. 

‘I love you, so dearly.’

Minho

dying and crying and wailing on the inside 

he’s so damn grateful, he rlly can’t believe someone loves him like this 

will not admit it, but tears up like 100% 

‘thank you baby, but you’re prettier’ manages to pull an uno reverse and fluster you 😁 

looks at them fondly from the couch

Usually when you picked him up from the airport, Minho could spot your face right from the get go. But today, all he could see was a large bouquet of colourful flowers, accompanied by a sign that read ‘Lee Minho’. As he approached the sign, the flowers shifted to the side to reveal Minho’s favourite view, your smiling face. 

Giggling, he engulfs you in a tight hug. 

’So who are these for, baby?’ He examines the bouquet, observing the bright hues. 

’They’re for you silly!’ You hand him the bouquet and take his back pack from him. He stands agape, shock drawn over his sharp features. 

‘Me.. me??’ His stuttering sends you into a fit of giggles, enjoying the rare moment where you got to see your boyfriend flustered. 

Quickly regaining composure, he pulls you to his side, whispering in your ear, ’The flowers are pretty sweetheart, but they’re not as pretty as you.’ You gently slap his chest, hiding away into his jacket. 

‘Oh, shut up.’

Changbin:

almost dies in a giggling fit 

hugs them so tight the stems almost snap off T-T 

appreciates it more than he can even tell 

picks one out and puts it behind you ears :) 

brags about it to the rest of them what an amazing partner you are

The shock etched on Changbin’s face when you reveal a bouquet to him sends you into a small fit of giggles. Accepting the flowers delicately, he marvels at the colours and types of flowers. 

He smiles, pulling you into a hug. He squeezes, tighter and tighter, afraid his love for you might explode out of him. He whispers, softly against your ear, 

‘I love them so much. So so so much.’ He hugs you tighter, and suddenly, snap. The sharp crunch of the stem of one of the flowers breaking cuts through the confession, startling the both of you. 

‘Oh no… oh man.’ You cautiously examine the bouquet, worried it might fall apart. Changbin quickly identifies the broken flower, carefully picking it out of the bouquet. 

‘Don’t worry baby, now I can do this.’ He deftly tucks the flower behind your ear, brushing away the hair on your face. He admires your face quietly, enjoying the fact that your cheeks are almost as pink as the flower. 

Hyunjin

bawls. a lot. like uncontrollably 👍 bros a bit emosh if you will 

babbles a million thank yous while kissing you 

paints them so he can keep them forever!!

like chan he dries and presses them and makes a pretty craft work with it:) 

makes you a better bouquet in return

When you sent flowers over to Hyunjin’s apartment, you really hoped he’d enjoy them. You knew how much he loved them, and when you saw the most delightfully beautiful bouquet of flowers, you knew you had to buy it for him. 

When you received a photo of the bouquet with the text ‘they’re perfect’, you knew your job was done. 

What you didn’t expect when you returned to the apartment was a painting of the exact bouquet you had given him. In the short time you were away, Hyunjin had managed to set the flowers in a vase and capture their exact likeness on a new canvas. 

‘It’s the prettiest bouquet I’ve ever seen. I just think its beauty should be appreciated forever.’ He smiles simply as he walks over to you, long hands circling your waist. 

He places a chaste kiss against your ear before whispering, 

‘And so should yours.’ 

Jisung

jumping with joy !!

he’s twirling around the room really, he loves them so damn much 

also brags to the members, definitely the happiest of them all 

almost kills them within the first two days but miraculously keeps them alive for a whole week 

smiles until his face hurts every time he sees them 🥰

The pure joy on Jisung’s face was enough to compensate for all the struggles you had to deal with to get a bouquet of flowers for him. 

You watched him as he twirled around the room, practically bouncing off the walls in happiness. The little pink tulips bounced along with him as he ran to you. 

‘THANK YOUUU!!! I LOVE THEM SO MUCH!’ He screeches into your ears, giving you a soul crushing hug. 

But it’s worth it. The near deafness, cracked ribs, and painfully happy grin on your face, becomes insignificant when you watch the gleaming smile on his face as he prances around the room, bursting with bliss. 

Felix

So cute and lovely about it, thanking you continuously !!

Takes like. 1 million pictures. 

Giggles like a school girl because the note says ‘sunshines for my sunshine’ 

Gets you a bouquet of your favourite flowers that very evening 

Now it’s a competition and you keep getting each other bouquets… until the house starts attracting bees so you have to give them all away ☹️

When you heard about Felix bagging another modelling gig, you knew the perfect congratulatory gift would be a bouquet of white lilies. And as expected he loved them. He took about a million photos and gave you a million more kisses.

But what you didn’t expect was that when you got your big promotion, he would gift you with a bouquet of white tulips. Eventually, this started happening back and forth, each of you getting more and more extravagant bouquets for the other. It soon evolved into a symbol of affection and pride, the both of you showering each other in bouquets. 

Sometimes it would be for actual reasons, and other times it was just because you wanted to. Staring at the umpteenth bouquet of the month, you swear your house had no more vases for it. 

‘Lixxie… baby I think we’re all out of vases…’ You exclaim as he laughs, shocked at your behaviour. 

‘Well, I just thinks we love each other so much more than what we can handle.’ He smiles at you, radiant as always.

Seungmin

dies. like. he really thinks he’s died and gone to heaven when he sees the bouquet 

so quiet you think he doesn’t like them, but is quick to reassure you 

bros like so damn speechless until you begin to start apologising and suddenly he can’t shut up 

literally will not stop rambling about how grateful he is for them and how much he loves you until you kiss him 

his ears are as red as the roses man he’s so down bad <3 

When you showed up at the restaurant with flowers for him, Seungmin knew he would do nothing short of everything to keep you his. 

With your dazzling smile, and honey sweet voice, you told him that the flowers for him, and in that moment his brain short circuited. A spiral of thoughts danced around his head, almost as chaotic as the butterflies in his stomach. The keyword was almost, because he was pretty sure the butterflies in his stomach had done cocaine. 

He watched your smile morph into a frown, lips curling downwards. 

‘Oh… do you not like them? Oh my god wait, are you allergic? Oh, I’m sorry, I’m so sorry!!’ You frantically tried to remove the bouquet from beside him, afraid of triggering an allergic reaction. Your actions were quickly halted by Seungmin’s slider fingers around your wrist, eyes wide. 

‘NO! No, no I mean no. I love them. SO much… I just. I love them so much I don’t know what to say.’ He smiles softly before taking your hands in his, holding them gently. 

‘I love them, but I definitely don’t love them more than I love you.’ 

Jeongin

becomes a tomato !

bros FLABBERGASTED! giggles and kicks his feet and my god is he blushing

kisses your cheeks a lot he just loves them very much :D 

almost accidentally undoes the bouquet while arranging it, thank god you’re there to help him- 

now he expects one bouquet per week or he WILL pout and whine 😁👍

When Jeongin opens the door after hearing the bell, he expects to see your smiling figure, wearing a stolen hoodie and a bright smile.

Instead, he’s greeted with the sight of the most wonderful bouquet of flowers, a burst of almost every colour in the rainbow. Purples and yellows accompanied by splashes of pink and red greet him, as he gapes in shock, awestricken at the sight before him. 

‘Hi Innie! Are you gonna let me in or am I going to have to stay here the whole day?’ Your voice piques from behind the flowers. 

‘Oh god, yes, come in.. baby, are these.. for me?’ He questions awkwardly, shuffling around to let you in. He takes the flowers from you as you reach up to kiss his cheeks. 

‘Well yes silly, who else am I going to get flowers for?’ You laugh at his stunned face, ears almost as red as the flowers in the bouquet. 

You carefully take the flowers back from him, looking for a vase to place them in. You adore the way he follows you like a lost puppy, smiling fondly at the bouquet in your hands. 

©️ yangkitties 2024 do not copy, plagiarise, or repost

[shesgabrielle]

What makes an artist? (Clue: not this)

So I saw this yesterday, and now bouncing around my mind is how revealing those fake 'notes' are as to the psychology of fake ai scammers.

For context a guy entered an ai piece into a book cover contest, and then supplied his psd file as 'proof' it was original art and not ai generated, but was outed immediately by artists who dug through the psd and noticed things like layer names being in the format of discord username_midjourney_prompt,

subsequently, searching for his discord username, (midjourney generations happen on public and private discord servers, public generations are merely a keyword search away) only to find hundreds of generated assets matching the elements seen in the ai art piece.

Above: hundreds of generated assets, and the character seen in his final piece, in his discord midjourney generations.

But let's look at these 'notes.'

This is a fake 'sketch' layer where he painted over the ai generated piece to try and reverse engineer a sketch, a common effort by ai scammers which always looks super obvious to artists since generally a sketch is not just a more messily painted version of the final with no dimensional or structural changes whatsoever (why the concept of a progressively changing sketch is alien to these guys will be addressed momentarily)

To the side of the fake sketch, he scribbled 'download brush for hair?' Well first off if you can paint a human figure in any amount of detail you do not need to download a brush to synthesise hair, but I think this was simply word association hair + brush. Then we have a note below it, 'download smoke elements' with smoke crossed out like a 7 year old writing an essay, and replaced with 'grunge.' Needless to say, artists don't usually think in these terms of specifically of downloading elements needed, maybe searching for refs, that idea of downloading alone is very ai art thief behaviour, but to dig into the behaviour behind the faux note with 'smoke' crossed out a little more. So any person writing a digital note in an image file can simply use the eraser tool to erase an incorrectly written note, and rewrite it. He either is unaware of the eraser tool (like top 3 basic tools even microsoft paint has) or, (possibly both) it shows something in his thought patterns. When making a 'mistake,' even a fake one, he crosses out the mistake instead of trying to fix it. This is part of the root of why these people will never make art, because their base psychology is simply 'no mistakes, get it right the first time' which is precisely why the mcdonalds instant generated art is so appealing and addictive to them. And I'm sure they tried to draw once, did not instantly produce a masterpiece, and threw their pencils away in disgust at the 'blessed' 'talented' artists who they presume, have the same lack of dedication and passion as them and would not create unless it was for the same instantaneous gratification and approval they desire. They say as much themselves whenever they defend ai.

The reality: Art is not the art of making, it's the art of fixing. It's the art of adjusting something hundreds or thousands of times until it is what you want it to be. Unless you are fascinated by the process of adjusting and fixing, you will never make art of any kind. And a final note, that shitty 'palette' on the side makes no sense since, yet again, top 3 art tools in microsoft paint includes the colour dropper, so if you want to reuse a particular colour you simply use the colour dropper. This man is not even familiar with the most basic art program settings yet wants to larp as a digital artist, to the point of trying to gain acclaim by winning art contests. He has obviously vanished offline as soon as all this was revealed, I hope many more ai 'artists' are shamed off the internet in a similar way.

[dalishious]

The Next Dragon Age 2020 Game Awards Teaser Trailer Analysis

“I've faced tyrants and would-be gods. Seen friends loose life and limb. But there's always someone bent on breaking the world. It's time for a new hero. No magic hand, no ancient prophecy. The kind of person they'll never see coming. We've got your back. I've got your back. Demons. Dragons. Darkspawn. Even the Dread Wolf. This, is your story.”

I think the teaser trailer did a really great job at giving us a general vibe the game will be going for. Trailers for the past Dragon Age games usually hit high notes of heroism; sacrifice, duty, might, etc. This trailer immediately feels different, and I’m personally keeping an open mind about that. I hesitate to use the word “dark” to describe media, because I feel that most people have a different definition of what makes something have a “dark tone” than I do, but I would apply that here. The music is cinematic not in the sense of epicness, but of dire straits. Dare I say I got more “end of the world” vibes from this trailer than from all of Inquisition.

The term “teaser trailer” is definitely appropriately used here, because that’s what it is; a tease. BioWare is very good at teasing, at sharing enough bits of information to keep you thinking, without giving it all away. So with that said, these are my own personal thoughts.

If you have not yet seen The Next Dragon Age Official Teaser Trailer released during the 2020 Game Awards, you can view it here: [Link]

The Mural

The trailer opens and closes with another large painting by Solas. A clear image of the entire mural was changed as the background of EA’s official Dragon Age webpage.

It interests me that Solas represented himself as the Dread Wolf with red mouth and blue eyes. In past depictions of Fen’Harel, he has red eyes and a blue moth, such as the DA:I tarot card:

The colours blue and red have traditionally been representative of opposite forces, most often good and evil, in media. If there is meaning to this, (because after all, it could just be a style choice,) I wonder if it is indicative of his role reversal from Inquisition?

On either side of the Dread Wolf are two figures, with familiar shapes as their heads:

These shapes are found fixated on top of metallic dragon statues and eluvians in Trespasser:

In the game files, they are referred to as the following:

prp_elv_TyrantIdolHead01

prp_elv_TyrantIdolHead02

prp_elv_TyrantIdolHead03

These “Tyrant Idol Heads” obviously represent the Evanuris. The second head that looks like the sun is obviously Elgar’nan. The third head I believe represents Mythal, as it holds resemblance to dragon horns, and Flemeth’s silhouette. The question remains which member of the Evanuris does the first represent, the one appearing as the head of the left creature in the mural. Given the monstrous nature, how @felassan​ pointed out the head and body has the same shape as a monster seen in concept art, and that Ghilan’nain’s monsters were recently explored in the Tevinter Nights story, the Horror of Hormak, Ghilan’nain is my guess.

The second figure in the mural? I think that is another Evanuris. This is a shot in the dark, but I wonder if perhaps June, given we know next to nothing about him thus far, and I do think it’s supposed to be a male one, given the stereotypically masculine body shape.

The figures are both hanging upside down with their hands folded over their chest. This is symbolic of martyrdom in Catholicism. (Why Solas has become Catholic, I do not know.)

At the bottom of the mural is, from right to left, the red lyrium statue of meredith with the red lyrium idol sword, a crumbling city full of red lyrium, and Corypheus with the orb. The circling yellow light around the city reads as an explosion to me, which is very interesting, given the plot of The Streets of Minrathous in Tevinter Nights. The remaining Venatori wish to summon a very powerful demon resting under the capital city, blowing it up in the process. Perhaps they are not the only ones with such a goal, or perhaps they will try again?

The Scenic Shots

The gritty, rocky terrain, the mountains in the distance, the new, dinosaur-like creatures that could be a new kind of darkspawn, the very obvious warden boots... I think this is the Anderfels. 

The castle in the distance here looks to be the same one in the distance in the scene that follows below, from a different angle. (Either that or it’s a reused asset, which is also possible.)

I’ve seen people peg this as a shot of Tevinter, but while this may be wishful thinking on my part, I’m more inclined to believe it’s Antiva. This is mostly due to, if you look closely at the bottom, there is no a street, but a waterway. I can easily believe Antiva City has a canal from Rialto Bay down the river to Seleny, and while I can’t recall for certain, this may have even been confirmed. It is also easy to believe Antiva City would have a very lively night life. Additionally, the architecture does not match what we have seen of Tevinter style.

Now this, I am certain, is Tevinter. Even without the Tevinter flags hanging off the building to the right, this architecture absolutely matches established Tevinter style. There is also the floating castle in the background, something described of Minrathous in Tevinter Nights.

I know some people were confused about the lights shown here, but these are nothing compared to the magic laser shows in Magekiller:

I do not believe these lights should be seen as a sign Tevinter is more advanced than the rest of Thedas. For one thing, Orlais is said to have magical night lighting as well; we’ve just never seen it.

“The cavern walls slick with moisture loomed high overhead, bathed in the orange glow of magical lanterns. In Orlais there were entire streets lit by such devices, the wealthiest districts in the entire Empire. The cavern walls slick with moisture loomed high overhead, bathed in the orange glow of magical lanterns. In Orlais there were entire streets lit by such devices, the wealthiest districts in the entire Empire. There the Circle of Magi was paid handsomely to keep the lanterns lit, and once a month in the early morning a herd of young apprentices would make their rounds under the watchful eyes of a guardian templar.” —The Calling

In the Tevinter Nights story Three Trees to Midnight, Myrion mentions that it was his job to light the street lights of Ventus. Casting those lights is someone’s job in Tevinter, too. Tevinter is also not the only country with magical advancements compared to Ferelden, the Free Marches and Orlais, either. Nevarra has carriages pulled by animated skeleton horses, for example. Personally, I’d say that is way more impressive than magic lights.

The pulling motion this person does, followed by the person in the background stumbling, makes me think blood magic. And yet, they have a dagger in hand. So, maybe they’re a blood mage rogue? That’d be cool.

Wherever this is, it’s pretty damn infected with red lyrium. That creature looks to be a cross between a darkspawn ogre and a red templar behemoth. A red ogre behemoth. With its face melted off.

I’m much more interested in that bow, however. The effects look identical to that of a Fade Rift, with the floating geometry and green glowing arrow manifested with the draw.

It is so incredibly funny to me that in Trespasser, the most recent concept art, and now this trailer, Solas is all stylish looking. This is the same fucker who walked around in tattered pyjamas for an entire game. Now he’s back with his real motivation of revenge against all those comments made against his lack of fashion sense. Either that, or he hired a personal stylist, now that he’s gone full antagonist and needs to bring the dramatics.

Fashion reveal aside, I fucking LOVE this shot with half his face in light and half his face in shadow. Listen. I am a sucker for shots like this, and the representation of inner struggle between the light and dark side of the force...

(Solas wishes he was Luke Skywalker.) What a great way to end the trailer, though.

[teletraan-meets-jarvis]

What I Want - Part 2

AO3 Link

Chapter Title: What I Need

Pairing: Crosshair x fem!Jedi Reader

Summary: Following the awkwardness of the night before, you go to an old friend to try and process your feelings for Crosshair.

Click here for Part 1

Warnings: 18+, a bit more frisky business but not full on so rated 18 just to be safe. Swearing.

Word Count: 2.6k

Author’s Notes: You ask, you get!! Thanks so much for all the support and love for part 1 ❤️. As a thank you, I bring you part 2, I hope you enjoy! If this one takes off a bit as well, I do have an idea for a little bonus chapter around the Bad Batches' reaction. As always, feedback/comments are massively appreciated along with reblogs. Fic is below the cut off, thanks for reading!!

Taglist: @aerynwrites @shannon-lynn-21 @saltywintersoldat @tired-night-owl @wille-zarr

A comm alarm beeped softly, slowly pulling you out your slumber. Giving the device a sleepy glare, you shut it off and huffed back onto your bunk. Wrecker’s snores were echoing off the small ship barracks, you rolled your eyes at his sleeping form across the room as you swung your legs over the side of your top bunk. Below you, Tech slept soundly, he managed to fall asleep with his goggles on which were now sitting wonky on his relaxed face. He also had a datapad clutched to his chest, almost like a teddy bear, which made you chuckle to yourself.

You’d barely slept after getting back from the mission but being a General stopping over on Coruscant meant rest would be a pipe dream. Your alarm was set to get you out of bed and ready for the first of what you were sure would be a hundred and ten briefings today. You were always happy to shoulder the politics for the team, removing that burden from Hunter so they could keep to themselves. But today, you could really do without it.

You looked over at Hunter and Crosshair’s bunks, the former sleeping up top with an arm over his eyes. Probably to block out the few small coloured lights on the ship that shone from critical systems, preventing the room from being truly pitch black. You didn’t envy Hunter’s enhanced senses, they seemed to cause him quite a bit of discomfort when they weren’t on missions. You should probably pick him up an eye mask one of these days.

Below him, Crosshair slept with his back to the open room. One of the few times you ever saw his body relaxed was when he slept. You cringed as you remembered yesterday’s awkwardness with the sniper and mentally cursed at yourself for causing, what was, an easily avoidable situation.

Shaking your head you jumped silently off of your bunk, mindful to not wake any of the batch. You gently removed Tech’s goggles, placing them in their usual spot before moving over to grab some fresh robes and head for the fresher. Today was going to be a real drag.

—————————————————

“Hey! Look what the Lothcat dragged in” someone called after you as you trudged up the steps to the GAR Headquarters. You turned around to see none other than Anakin Skywalker jogging up behind you.

“Nice to see you too Skyguy” he chuckled at the nickname as he threw an arm around your shoulders.

You fell into companionable chatter as you made your way to your first meeting, the dark halls of the military headquarters looking indistinguishable as you attempted to find the correct room. Members of the Coruscant Guard patrolled the halls, nodding politely to you both as you strolled past.

Eventually you found the room where Mace, Plo and Luminara were waiting, along with some clone and human high command. You stood outside the door for a moment, readying yourself to seal your fate of being talked at for a solid eight standard hours.

Eventually you caved, mostly as you were on the verge of being late if you debated standing outside any longer. Begrudgingly, you sat through briefing after briefing. All the voices and different rooms blending into one grey blur as you tried to take in what information you could, but your tired and stressed mind was having none of it.

While it was nice to catch up with some of the other Jedi, you always felt a bit out of place among the perfect members of the council. More so now than ever.

You ended up wandering back to the temple with Anakin where you both retired to his room and you flopped down onto his simple bed with a whine.

“Okay, what’s going on? You’ve been off all day” Anakin was the closest thing you had to a brother, you trained as Padawans together and due to your similar age you became fast friends. You knew about his marriage to Padme and decided that if you could offload your dilemma on anyone, it’d be him.

“I fucked up” you groaned out from behind your hands.

“What’d you do?” Anakin replied in a playful tone.

“I might’ve got a bit hot and heavy with one of the clones in my squad, led him on and then cut it off” Anakin raised an eyebrow at your confession. “And now he’s pissed at me”

“Why?” You weren’t entirely sure which part of that entire thing he was questioning.

“Because I started the whole thing, I wanted it. Then all of a sudden I did that whole guilty Jedi, must follow every word of the order thing, gave him some pathetic look which said really sorry I can’t have attachments mate, hope you understand. He called me out on it before I could even utter the banthashit excuse and then he stomped off and hasn’t spoken to me since.”

“In his defence, seems like he was probably wound a little tight” Anakin replied with a chuckle which you just groaned at.

“He has every right to be pissed. Hells, I would be if the roles were reversed. Whats with this whole self-righteous act us Jedi have going on?”

“Look, it’s hard being a Jedi at the best of times. It takes an inhumane amount of self-control, which is why its not a path for the weak. But being a Jedi while at war… it’s a lot. You’re emotions are running high, you’re forming bonds with soldiers on the battlefield that you shouldn’t be, but none of us can help it because it’s uncharted territory. Maker knows I’d hunt down anyone who hurt Obi-Wan or my Captain. Yes, It’s not the Jedi way, but neither is fighting a grand-scale war.” Anakin’s eyes were alive with emotion as he spoke, be he quickly caught himself and then it was gone.

“My point is, don’t beat yourself up so much. No one is getting kicked out the order or in his case reconditioned if that’s what you’re worried about. Figure out what it is you want, and then just be discreet about it” you looked at Anakin like he’d grown two heads, he just winked at your confused stare.

“Okay let’s keep it simple. Are you attracted to him?” You thought back to the night before and firmly nodded in response.

“Do you like him as a person?” You pondered his question.

“Well, it’s Cross. I wasn’t sure if he even liked me for a long time. He’s closed off, anti-social, but he’s also a good guy, cares about his brothers, has saved my ass multiple times, and he is kinda funny in his own, snide way” you rattled off with fondness in your words.

“Well then I suggest you go and talk to him.” Anakin replied, giving you a knowing look when he spotted the small smile on your lips as you spoke about the sniper.

You took a deep breath, glad to have finally gotten that off your chest and feeling content that you now knew what to do next. “Thanks, Ani”

“Ugh please don’t call me that” he moaned back, apparently only Padme was allowed to get away with that one.

————————————————

Your walk back to the Marauder felt like it dragged on and on. Your brain ran over a thousand scenarios of what to say, how he’d react and you were about to short circuit. There was so much risk, so much possibility, that you did your best to shut your mind off and let yourself handle it in the moment. These things never went as planned anyway, it was best not to guess.

The large door to the ship hissed open, your boots clanking on the metal surface as you cautiously walked into your home. It didn’t take you long to find Crosshair, he was sat in the main hull methodically cleaning his hand blaster. Everyone else must’ve been asleep. He was just in his blacks, the material hugging him in the most wonderful way, it’s like whoever designed those things was trying to trip you up. The contours of his arm muscles flexing as he worked, his strong chest looked practically chiselled at the heart of his lean frame. You had to force yourself to calm down a little bit.

“Uh, hey” you greeted awkwardly. “Mind if I join you?”

You took his silence as a well he’s not saying no. He didn’t spare you a glance as you walked in and took a seat opposite him. As a General in the GAR, you rarely got nervous. War, as a concept, was simple. You knew your purpose, your objective, you had a job to get done and you’d do it. The risks never stopped you, rather they fuelled you. Probably why you’re such a good fit for the bad batch.

But this right now, personal feelings, not knowing where you stand with someone you care about. Because if you were honest, you really did care about Crosshair, the same as you did the rest of the team. You’d only been with the squad just under a year but you’d gladly lay down your life for any of them in a heartbeat. If you could at least get back to where you were before the other night, you’d be over the moon.

You weren’t used to being so nervous, you let your hands fiddle with you dark Jedi robes as you readied yourself to speak again.

“Look, I’m not here to throw some crap about being a Jedi at you, I promise. And I’m sorry for trying it before” he still didn’t look at you, finding his blaster much more interesting. But you could tell he was listening, you had his attention. Might as well keep babbling.

“In terms of an explanation for what happened yesterday, well I guess I panicked.” You sighed as you tried to find the next words “The way you made me feel that night, I… I’ve never felt like that before and everything i’d been taught over the years screamed at me that what I was doing was dangerous and wrong. I now realise that I’m just an idiot. I make my own decisions and I… uh -well, I stick by that one, starting something that is.” Still nothing.

“I know this is probably a long shot. But in the interest of being transparent” you rambled “uh… if you want to go down that road again, I’m up for seeing what happens, can be as casual as we like. I promise I won’t freak out on you again.” You chuckled and thought you almost spotted a slight pull in the corner of Crosshair’s lips “But if you want to go back to how we were before, I’d also really like that.” You watched him for a while as he gave no acknowledgement of your words, his cleaning finished as he now gave the weapon a once over in his hands. Having said everything you needed, you got up from your seat, looking away from him.

“Well, if I can do anything else, let me know” you turned on your heel to leave, feeling slightly defeated but glad you’d at least made the first step.

“I could think of a few things” he finally spoke as he leaned back into his seat and continued to stare at his blaster, still not meeting your gaze.

Well that caught your attention, you turned back around to face him as he carried on ignoring you. While his tone was unbothered as he spoke, you knew him just enough to know his words held a meaning. He was playing with you, back to his usual teasing and you could’ve laughed at the relief that washed over you. This you could work with. A cheeky idea popped into your head and you’d decided to run with it.

“Oh really?” Throwing caution to the wind, you strode over to the sniper slowly. His gaze finally meeting yours after all this time, watching you as you got closer and closer. Practically drawing you in with his amber eyes. You pushed him back by his chest, creating enough room so you could straddle his lap. “Care to elaborate?”

He huffed out a short laugh at your words, his face overall unbothered but his eyes, they were burning into you. “You’re a smart girl, I’m sure you’ll figure it out”.

You hummed in response, deciding to kick things up a notch you wrapped your arms around his neck, bringing your faces just breaths apart. “Something like this?” You asked, pausing for another second before bringing your lips to his in a surprisingly soft and gentle kiss. You felt his hands come up to rest on your back, pulling you closer as you continued your slow dance. This was so different from the other night, where before there was desperation and lust, now there was something more… tender, passionate. You were quite glad you weren’t standing as the way he moved against you would’ve definitely made your knees weak.

Dragging yourself away from his lips, you searched his face. His mouth pulled into a barely there smirk “That’s a start.”

“Who said I was finished?” And just like that, the last few strands of tension between you both snapped and you relaxed in his arms. You fisted your hands into the front of his blacks and pulled him back to you, his tongue slipped between your lips, curious and demanding. He was everywhere again, filling your nose with the scent of the standard cheap GAR soap but mixed with something earthy, something so distinctly Crosshair and you couldn’t get enough.

You could tell why the Jedi order frowned upon such activities, kissing Crosshair was intoxicating. You couldn’t think of anything else other than the handsome clone in front of you and just how much you wanted him in that moment.

His hands wandered lower and lower down you back until they rested comfortably on your backside, pulling you further up his lap. Feeling mischievous, you started trailing kisses along his jaw. Setting a teasing, languid pace as you mapped out the spots that made him squirm. Crosshair was never a man of many words, so you made it your mission to see just how vocal you could make him.

As your lips met his pulse point, he gave a loud exhale and you smirked in victory against his skin as you continued the onslaught on his senses. You definitely seemed to be doing something right as his hands found themselves in your hair, clutching slightly and you couldn’t help the soft moan that escaped you. Even while trying to gain the upper hand in the situation, he always had some control over you. It was maddening in the best way, setting your veins alight with desire.

Determined to get another victory you traced your tongue against the base of the side of his neck and trailed it all the way up to the bottom of his ear, which you teasingly took into your mouth, teeth grazing the soft skin. A strangled moan escaped the clone and that was the moment where you knew you were hopelessly and utterly gone. Your mind filled with nothing other than wanting to be closer to Crosshair.

“Not very Jedi of you” he commented, slightly breathless when you finally stopped teasing him and came back up to meet his eyes. Looking down at where your bodies were pressed against one another, you chuckled.

“What exactly about this situation led you to believe I was ever a model Jedi?” You smirked, though it was only visible for a second before his mouth was back on yours, devouring you as his hands greedily roamed your body.

You continued making out like teenagers for most of the evening, taking the time to explore each other, enjoying the closeness. Contentment settled over your body, almost as if this was were you were meant to be. If Crosshair’s arms were where you belonged, well, you could think of worse places to be.

Back to Part 1

Back to Masterlist

[steveroger]

Colouring rainbow gifs

The lovely @buckiecap​ and @djarsdin​​ requested a tutorial of some gifs from this TFATWS rainbow set.

My colouring process is kinda chaotic and it always depends on the gif itself. These three gifs will highlight the similarities and differences in how I colour my rainbow gifs.

You’ll need some understanding of basic gif making and adjustments. I use Photoshop 2021 but I imagine these processes will still work in other versions.

Some basic tips:

When doing rainbow sets, once I've got my base gif ready, I always make a hue/saturation layer on saturation +100 so I can see what colours I'm working with. I just keep it hidden so i can check how my colours are doing throughout the editing process.

Also something to stick at the back of your mind: you want your final gif to be as “monochromatic” as possible - make sure your final palette will be only black + shades of whatever colour you're targeting. This is not only to make the gif as colour-focussed as possible, but it also helps with saving your gif under 10mb. That saturation +100 layer I always keep hidden at the bottom of my gif so I can keep an eye on what colours are present.

It’s also helpful to understand how RGB and CMYK colours work and what to add/subtract when you want to bring out a certain colour. A good example of this is with Colour Balance:

You’ll notice the colours on the left are Cyan, Magenta and Yellow (CMYK), while the other side is Red, Green and Blue (RBG). So if you want more cyan in your image, you’d push the bar towards cyan, but then you’re compromising the reds. In Selective Colour adjustments, the panel is reversed.

This knowledge is absolutely necessary when you’re doing any adjustment, so keep this in the back of your mind as I work through the tutorial.

Green gif - Eli's door

So I start with my hue/saturation on saturation +100 to check what I’m working with here. This gif of Isaiah's grandson opening the door has green, yellow and red as the dominant colours, and I can see a bit of cyan on the right. I’ll keep that hue/saturation layer hidden as a reference.

Normally when I make gifs I start with a curve or levels layer to get any unwanted hues or create a more visible scene. But in this gif, I'm pretty happy with the colours, so I'm just using a simple curves adjustment, because I want to have whatever is behind the door as the ‘background’ and the door frame is the ‘foreground’, so only a slight adjustment is needed here.

Since the colours are already prominent, I'm going to make the green more visible and vibrant. I do this by using selective colour in the green colour to make the green stand out. When thinking of CMYK adjustments, you might think that Magenta -100 would work, as that normally pushes the greens, but I find that this makes things grainy and patchy looking, as you can see here:

Instead, I’m enhancing cyans and yellows, and only pushing the magenta back just a little bit towards green. I’m not sure why green specifically does this, but it’s useful to know this when you’re colouring.

With the yellows, I want to push those more as well, since the amount of yellow usually influences the green-ness of the gif.. I'm also going to max yellow too since that will also make the green pop, but I also have to be careful not to distort the skin colour too much. I also want to balance the skin tone with a little redness so he doesn’t look like he has jaundice (skin tone will be explored later in the gif process)

I've added another selective colour layer on top of that, only adjusting the greens just to make it pop a little more. Don’t be afraid to use more than one selective layer, this can really bring out vibrant colours if you use it right.

Just to get some more depth, I add a colour balance layer, again just subtly pushing the cyan and yellow up and not playing with the green too much. Then my usual last layers are with a vibrance and brightness/contrast - I’m usually quite generous with contrast so I can bring out the different shades and it makes things a little more vibrant too.

This next step is really important when colouring people with dark skin - you want to lower the redness from their skin so they don't look unnaturally orange, as you can see here:

There is a fantastic tutorial here about colouring dark skin tones and avoiding the orange-washed look, and I recommend all gif makers to take note! It's difficult especially when doing rainbow gifs, and it takes some practice. I do this with a hue/saturation layer, and specifically targeting red and yellow and reducing saturation. I might need to play with selective colour or colour balance to get it right. Luckily Eli doesn’t move around too much, so I can use a mask to adjust only his face. 

And that’s the end product! now just ignore me as I re-upload the green gif in my set so you don’t see such a horrible jaudiced skin tone sldkfjsldkf

Yellow gif - Karli vs Sam

I'm gonna be completely honest here - this gif was very tricky to do. I actually have about three different versions of it. At first I thought "this is the yellow gif so I'm only going to have yellow tones", and did selective colour to get rid of any traces of green AND red, because I didn't want any orange at all. It ended up looking quite dull:

I mean.. yeah it’s yellow........... but it’s kinda boring. So I deleted all adjustments and watched the raw gif, and noted the orange light contrasting with the pale light. The raw gif itself already had some beautiful lighting - why get rid of it? It depends on what you want, but I like my rainbow gifs to have a different colour there to contrast with the main colour. 

Starting off with a hue/saturation layer with saturation 100+, I can see there are clearly yellows and reds and a bit of green on the ceiling. 

I thought the contrast of the orange and pale lighting was too good to mess up so I started with that. My first layers are vibrance and brightness/contrast to exaggerate the silhouettes and bring out the colours that are already there. 

I added a channel mixer layer to narrow down the colours. I wanted to fill the white bits with yellow, and with channel mixer I’m able to manipulate colours into something else while still looking natural and blended. I won’t be doing too much colour manipulating here so the settings are very minimal. I don’t know how to explain it but it just takes a little fiddling to figure out what works for your gif. You’ll notice the white reflections on the ceiling are now a solid yellow colour:

Next is a colour balance layer. I'm basically trying to bring out the yellow out. This is really just trial and error. I added a bit of magenta to bring the depth of the orange colours in the darker shades:

Now for selective colour. I'm often adjusting all of these while hiding/showing the hue/saturation layer I have kept at the bottom. This time, I’m aiming to subtract the reds and bring it down to a warm orange, and I do that by bringing it towards cyan/away from red, and away from magenta/towards green. 

Then I max out the yellows so it becomes the most dominant colour. I've also manipulated the green to make sure it is excluded from the gif - again, checking with the hue/saturation layer at the bottom, while keeping my eye on the ceiling and other places where I’ve noticed green lurking about. I don’t want any unwanted shades ending up in the final colour table.

Finally, I finish with yet another vibrance and brightness/contrast layer, just because I like things bright and vibrant!

And there it is! The orange is still there and adds a contrast, but you can tell that the main colour is the yellow. This gif seems very straightforward but I assure you, it took me quite a while to get this one right. This gif was a joy to work on because Sam was so very extra in this fight sequence lolll

Pink gif - suspicious mechanical grenade? idk

While this gif may look simple, it actually took a couple of tries before I got the colouring right. You'll notice when the ball activates, there is a bright green light that highlights the gas released and it reflects on the chair legs and carpet.

At first I tried this with the above mentioned selective colour method - which I thought turned out okay but it didn't sit with me right. Notice the reflection of the blue light on the carpet - it definitely isn't blue and more like a green-orangey kinda colour, and it doesn't look natural at all.

So I re-started from the beginning and had a look at what I’m working with, starting with hue/saturation at saturation +100. I can see that the original gif has red and green as the dominant colours, with yellow bits blending the two on the carpet. That’s what I was having issues with the selective colour - so I’ll be doing it differently. 

Enter: channel mixer. I’m gonna be honest............. I have ZERO idea how the channel mixer really works! It’s all a matter of trial and error, but I’ll try and explain my process step by step. 

I normally start in the blue channel (again - no idea why, it just works for me). I start with the reds, and I know if I go over 0, it will push the reds towards cyan, which will get it more purple-y:

Ooooh looking good!!! then I want to push the greens towards magenta, so that needs to go over 0 as well:

Woohoo! It’s already starting to look good. The green light and the way it blends into the red/pinks have all been completely changed into the cyan hues, so there’s a perfect reflection you can see on the carpet! Yay! I had a fiddle with the green and red channels but nothing too drastic. Here are the settings:

Even with just the single adjustment, I was already pretty happy with it and only did a few touch ups: I added a selective colour layer to bring out a more pinky-purpley colour, then a levels layer to brighten things up. It might seem very backwards to add a brightening tool at the end, but I didn’t want to mess up the original colour shades because I liked having the dark shadows lit up by the ball’s light.

And that’s it! Only three adjustment layers, but it took some time to play with the different adjustments and what worked best. Channel mixer can be really intimidating but it works like a charm when you manage to figure it out.

the end!

Finally I have to give credit to some amazing content creators and their brilliant colouring tutorials that have made such a huge impact in the way I edit. Some brilliant guides include:

this colouring tutorial by @favreaus​​ 

this colouring tutorial by @inejz-ghafa​​ 

this colouring tutorial by @meliorn​​

​I hope this tutorial has been helpful! I’ve tried to explain myself as best I can, but let me know if you’d like any clarification or have any questions. I’m still learning how to do things, and honestly most times it’s just randomly clicking things until something works out! 

[milkybonya]

In THE DaRk

order 004 for anon: large coconut milk tea (In THE DaRk by BOBBy) with regular tapioca pearls and fresh taro

Warnings: food mentions

Pairing: idol!Hui x delivery worker!reader

Summary: you deliver food to cube ent. and end up becoming friends with Hui, an idol who's at the peak of his career... but he finds himself falling for you even as his songs rise on the charts :")

Word count: like maybe 3k?

[a/n]: i love this request because i love this song and writing it while listening to the song on loop in the dark of my room just made me so happy? also i put wayyyy more effort into this than necessary and it turned out super long >.< i'm so sorry anonnie i hope you like itttt ahhh

Shine, you shine on my existence

Sure, Hui was an idol with a life of his own - especially now, during Shine promotions, that his group, PENTAGON, was blowing up. Yet he never failed to make time for you, because you were the light of his life.

As a hardworking idol who was always cooped up in his studio and skipping meals, his members encouraged him to at least order food. He was reluctant but eventually agreed, not wanting to make them worry.

That's where you came in: a delivery worker at a local restaurant not too far from Cube entertainment, Hui's company. A lot of people ordered from your restaurant to Cube, so you weren't surprised when a new order flashed on the iPad screen at your workplace.

"We've got another delivery, [y/n]," the worker at the front told you with a smile, walking to the back to tell the cooks what to prepare.

You tapped your feet against the ground, awaiting the order. Once it was prepared, you carefully placed it in your delivery bag, fastened it to your bike and off you went, wearing a helmet of course.

The gentle breeze was enough to cheer you up and give you energy, despite the scene around you being full of traffic and slightly bleak.

Once you arrived, the guards let you in without even checking your workplace ID this time, recognizing you as a trusted delivery person.

You made your way up to the floor listed on the order, roaming through countless hallways until you finally found the right room. Judging by the area and the doors, it seemed to be full of studios.

The person who ordered this must be working hard, you thought to yourself.

Suddenly, you got an urge to leave a note, wishing the person well. You took out a scrap piece of paper and a pen that you always had handy, your heart racing and your hands shaking at the thought of doing this. You were excited at the idea of the person being happy to see such a cheerful note...

I hope you enjoy this meal and that it gives you enough energy to keep working hard :) Go for it!

After neatly placing the food and note at the door, you knocked and walked away, not wanting to bother the person. Even though you didn't turn your back, you heard the door open a few seconds later.

"Thank you!" a voice echoed through the hall.

You turned quickly to say ‘you’re welcome’ in response and caught a glimpse of what seemed to be a young idol hard at work. His hair was messy and he had dark circles under his eyes, but his mismatches clothes and bright smile were quite cute.

You thought that would be the last you’d see of him, but from that day onwards, he always ordered food from your restaurant at the same time: 2:09pm. Why so specific? You weren’t sure, but that’s how it was, and you being the only delivery worker at your restaurant meant that it would always be you taking the food to him.

The second time you went, you were surprised to see a note waiting on the door for you.

Thank you for your cheerful message... I’ll do my best to work harder!

It made you smile and you decided to leave another note with his order, this time just asking him what his favourite side dishes were so you could tell the cooks to put more of those in next time. Instead of him leaving a note for you with the response, though, Hui decided to text you this time so he wouldn't have to wait for you to make another delivery before you could see his response.

Unknown: This is Hui! Ah, I ordered food from you at 2:09pm? I'm not really picky on side dishes, but one of my members likes kimchi, so could you make sure to leave more of that for me?

You: sure, of course! but how did you get my number?

Hardworking Hui: Ah, sorry! It was on the app since you're the delivery worker... for me to contact you in case you get lost? I'm sorry!

You: No, that's okay! i just wanted to be sure ^^

So after that day, you made sure Hui always got extra kimchi with his order. He would always greet you at the door of his studio, quickly asking about your day and how you were doing. Truthfully, he actually wanted to ask you to come inside so he could talk with you some more, because the two of you would always get an interesting conversation going before you declared you had to leave.

Since he was too shy to ask you in person, he texted you, instead.

Hardworking Hui: could you get the rest of the day off after delivering my order today?

You: why?

Hardworking Hui: so you can eat with me? if that's okay? or just take an hour off!

You: ...

You: Only if you pay for my food :P

Hardworking Hui: deal

So that day, you asked your manager for the hour off from 2:30pm to 3:30pm. She agreed, knowing that you always work hard and deserve a break.

Showing up to Hui's studio with his usual order and some food for yourself in your hands, you knocked a little nervously this time, knowing that this wouldn't just be a delivery, but a whole... hang out? Type of thing?

Hui had made sure to clean his studio to the best of his ability, making sure that there was another comfy chair for you to sit on and that the room didn't smell bad or anything. He lit a couple of candles and vacuumed the place so there would be no dust. When you knocked on the door, he jumped out of his seat with excitement, immediately opening it.

"Hi! Come in," he said, holding the door open so you could step inside. Seeing the cosy, dimly lit space left you in awe.

"It's so cool to see where you've been working away for all this time," you said, sitting down on a chair and putting the food down.

"Yeah... sometimes I get tired of it, but it's home," Hui said, sitting on his studio chair and opening up the food.

"Ah... where's the kimchi?" Hui asked, pointing at all the dishes.

"Oh, I'm so sorry, I told the cook to include my favourite side dish too, but he must have just replaced the kimchi with this instead, I'm so sorry!"

Hui laughed, shaking his head.

"It's completely fine!" he said, handing you your favourite side dish.

As the two of you began eating, you were able to get to know each other more as you spoke and asked each other questions. Even though it was a little silly asking for each other's favourite colours and seasons, it was a lot of fun, and the two of you turned out to have a lot in common.

Tears are erased by my emotions / Add, add colour to the world

After that day, you weren't just a delivery worker for Hui, and he wasn't just a customer to you. The two of you became close friends, attending the concerts of your favourite artists together. Hui would joke and say that he was attending for work reasons, trying to gain musical inspiration, while you had no real reason to be there. You'd slap his shoulder lightly, telling him to watch his words while he'd laugh at your reaction.

Even though his work was stressful at times, it was days like those that seemed to make him cry in reverse, if that was even possible? You showed up and turned his world around, adding colour onto his black and white canvas.

His members even told him that he seemed more cheerful and energetic despite still working hard in the studio, and Hui even told you that his songwriting process seemed to be running more smoothly.

"I'm so glad we became friends," he told you, leaning his head on your shoulder one day as the two of you sat on a park bench. You smiled, strongly agreeing with him in your own heart.

But do you remember when I mentioned Shine promotions at the beginning of this? Well, let's skip forward to that point.

By then, you had seen Hui and his group perform quite a few times, whether it was at concerts, music shows or even on the TV at your home. You were incredibly proud of him and wanted nothing but for him to succeed.

Every time Hui found you in the crowd at any of his live performances, he'd feel some kind of crazy adrenaline rush as all of his tiredness just seemed to magically disappear. He'd perform as if rent was due just because you gave him the energy to do so.

"Was [y/n] watching us again?" Hyunggu asked backstage after another performance for Shine ended safely.

"Yeah, I saw them there!" Hongseok confirmed.

"Plus, you can tell by the way Hui is acting," Yuto laughed, nodding towards Hui who was frantically texting you asking you if you'd left completely.

You told him you were still at the venue, and he begged you to come backstage. When you arrived, you greeted all of the Pentaboys, who adored you almost as much as Hui did, before joining Hui at his makeup table. You greeted the makeup artist too, out of respect, before asking Hui why he needed to see you so urgently.

"We might win today... I just wanted you to be by my side as good luck," he explained, a clearly worried expression on his face.

It was a shock to you that despite Shine doing so well on the charts, Pentagon still had not gotten their first win, but you knew they were an amazing group, regardless.

What you doing now? What's your plan now?

You placed your hand on top of Hui's, which rested on his own thigh.

"Hui, I know you haven't been getting all the wins you've been expecting, but we can't deny that this song is absolutely a bop and you have all been killing it!" you told him with a smile.

You couldn't tell whether or not your words had any sort of effect on him because he was looking down, but you hoped they at least didn't make him feel worse.

The rest of the Pentaboys cheered hearing your words though, feeling energized at your honest observation.

Hui was looking down because his stomach was tied in knots at the feeling of your hand on his. It was something he'd never felt before... butterflies? He tried to shrug it off but he couldn't stop wondering about your intentions... did you place your hand over his for a reason? What were you trying to tell him? What were you planning?

Inside my brain, after making a place for you / You make it impossible for me to sleep

That night, Hui still couldn't stop thinking about your simple gesture. You didn't mean anything by it, right? It was just a friend comforting a friend... the two of you had been friends for a while now, so why was he thinking into this so much?

As feelings of sleepiness took over, he drowsily wondered what it would be like to hold your hand rather than to just have his hand underneath yours. What would it be like to be held by you?

-

The next day, with more promotions ahead, you made sure to send Hui a text of good luck. You wouldn't be able to watch from the live audience that day, since you had work and deliveries to carry out, but you still wanted him to know that you were thinking of him.

Hui couldn't stop staring at your message of good luck for the whole day, pressing his finger on the heart emoji that you added at the end of your message.

"Hui hyung, are you reading something?" Wooseok asked the leader, sitting beside him on the sofa in the waiting room.

"Huh? N-no," Hui quickly said with a laugh, tucking his phone away.

"You've been staring at your phone all day... what is it, is it a fun webtoon?"

"No, no! Don't worry about it," Hui laughed, ruffling the tall boy's hair.

Wooseok whined, yelling about how the stylist just did his hair. Meanwhile, Hui's heart was racing. Why had he been staring at your text message all day?

You: I'm thinking of you today, Hui! Go get em, good luck <3

Are you thinking of me in this dawn? / I wish there was a continuous portal from my room to yours

Again, that night, Hui couldn't stop thinking about you. This time, it was about the message you'd sent him. He still had it open and was staring at it. He wondered if, when you said you were thinking of him, did that mean you were thinking of him right then and there too? At the same time when he was thinking about you?

Were your sleepless thoughts filled with him, just like his were filled with you-?

Ring ring. Ring ring.

Shit.

He'd been staring at your text and holding his phone so tightly that he accidentally pressed the call icon next to your name.

"Hello?" you answered sleepily. It was 3am and you had been asleep.

"H-hello? [y/n]?"

"Yes, Hui, what is it?"

"I uh..."

He desperately tried to think of an excuse for calling you, any reason-

"I wish there was a portal that went directly from my room to yours."

Really, Hui? Was that the best thing you could think of?

His heart raced and he smiled as he heard your laugh on the other end. He didn't realize he'd balled his other hand into a fist until your laughter made him calm down.

"What are you saying, Hui?"

"I miss you..." he mumbled.

Despite being sleepy, his words still made you nervous. Your heart raced and you wondered what he was trying to tell you.

"I m-miss you too," you croaked out.

"Really?" Hui asked you, sitting up in bed.

"Yeah, really," you said, laughing. It wasn't a lie, either. You'd been watching all of his performances on your phone that day while working, almost falling off your bike because you were that invested. In him.

"Do you wanna meet up now?"

"Now?" you spluttered.

"Yeah... by the Han River?"

You paused for a while before answering.

"Let's do it."

Even if I breathe in the cold air / It feels sweet, so sweet

"AHHH IT'S SO COOOOLD!" Hui yelled into the night air, rubbing his arms and running around in circles beside you.

"Here, take my coat," you said, but instead just wrapping your arms around him.

Hui tensed up, wondering if your arm that was wrapped around his chest could feel his heartbeat.

"W-what are you doing?" he asked.

"Providing you with warmth," you said.

You also felt butterflies stirring within you, realizing that maybe you saw Hui as more than just a friend. Yet you shrugged it off, telling yourself that Hui was an idol and you were just a delivery worker.

You can't know my pathetic feelings / Even if I've confessed a hundred times inside my brain / I'm invisible to you

Hui stayed quiet, closing his eyes tightly and enjoying the feeling of being in your arms on this cold night. He knew this embrace wouldn't last and that maybe it wouldn't happen again, because in his mind, he was invisible to you. Just a friend who you goofed around with, but all of your jokes made his heart rush.

The two of you ran around the grassy banks of Han River together, laughing into the night and chasing each other like kids. Each time Hui caught up to you, he'd wrap his small frame around you so tightly that it made you lose your breath. You told yourself it was just because you were running so hard, but it was definitely something else.

As the sun was beginning to rise and the two of you were finally in your homes, trying to get some sleep, Hui imagined what it would be like to confess to you. What if he confessed right there and then when you hugged him by the Han River? What if he told you how much he likes you and... what if you felt the same? What if you cupped his cheeks in your hands and kissed him right there as the river reflected the starlight from the sky...? What if Hui would drop his phone in shock but would kiss you back more passionately?

No, Hui. No.

If I ever want you to feel the same / That must be greedy, that'd probably be a chance to peek into heaven / 'Cause you are angel

There was no way any of that would ever happen. There was no way you would ever like him back, at least for Hui. You were way too good for him, an angel on this planet full of demons and sinners.

Little did he know that you were also squinting at the sun, struggling to get some sleep as you thought of the way Hui would press his face into your chest every time he caught up to you at the Han River as you chased each other for fun. His bright smile and gentle laughter made your heart feel like the Han River itself, gently flowing along but filled with such a refreshing feeling.

After another week of intense Shine promotions, Hui feeling all sorts of emotions as Shine continued to soar while his feelings for you also grew, it became unbearable. The two of you would talk late into the night, whether it was sending texts because Hui was busy working or whether it was phone calls. Hui thought about you every second of every day and always missed you a ton.

Please know that I like you / I just want to be there for the rest of your life

Hui asked you to meet him in his studio one evening, as he knew your work schedule and knew that you were free. You agreed, slightly confused as to how he was making time to meet with you despite being so busy.

"Hui, I'm here!" you sang, opening the door to his studio and finding him sitting there in his chair, looking especially cute as his hair was slightly ruffled and he wore a big, comfy hoodie.

"[y/n], I have to tell you something," he said, with a slightly sad smile.

"Yeah, what is it?"

You grew worried, but decided not to make a fuss over anything just yet.

"So, for some time now.... well, of course we've been good friends, and I don't want this to ruin that if you don't feel the same..."

He sighed mid-sentence.

"Gosh, I don't know why I'm rambling," he said with a laugh.

You instinctively laughed along.

"Well, [y/n]. I like you... a lot. I know it's pathetic for me to feel this way when I don't even deserve you, but-"

"You like me?" you cut him off.

Hui nodded in response, looking slightly red now.

Nervous and absolutely bewildered, you starting laughing to yourself, making Hui worry if he'd said something wrong.

"Hui, I... I like you too, what the hell?! And here I was thinking I was pathetic!"

"You're not pathetic at all!" Hui said, grinning widely and bright red in the face upon hearing your answer to his confession.

Both of you nervously smiled at each other for some time before Hui broke the silence.

"I know... it may be hard to date me... well no, it will be hard to date me since I'm an idol, but I promise I'll give this my everything. It's a given, because of how much I like you and how lucky I am for you to even date me-"

"I never said I was dating you," you joked.

"What?" Hui asked in shock.

"I'm joking! Hui, it's okay. We'll get through these difficulties together, whatever they may be," you said, holding half of his face in your right hand, stroking his cheek with your thumb.

Hui leaned into your touch, closing his eyes.

"You're right," he said, before turning his face and pressing his lips to your hand.

[writingsbychlo]

starry night | chris beck

word count; 9241

summary; chris beck delivers flowers to you five times.

notes; this was originally called ‘candy cane lane’, but I changed it up a little.

warnings; none!

When Chris had started working in a flower shop, it was to pay his way through college. He was getting a degree in medicine and it wasn't cheap, and he needed a simple and easy way to make cash that wouldn't take too much out of him. He wasn’t big on anything social, and so working in a bar or restaurant didn’t seem like the best fit, and unfortunately for him, all the library jobs had been snapped up at the beginning of the year. Supermarkets were a no go, he hated the people that came through and how rude some of them could be, and he sure as hell wasn’t going to get a job in a coffee shop.

Working those machines might as well be rocket science.

The little flower store on the end of his campus road had been hiring, and eventually, he’d become desperate. It wasn’t his usual gig, he wasn’t sure how he felt about it, to begin with, but it offered decent money, reasonably flexible hours, and the boss actually let him study on shift when it was quiet, and so it actually gave him more free time than he had before getting a job.

Then, he’d started to warm up to it. It was always cool in the summer and warmer in the winter, keeping it temperate for the plants, and it always smelt good. He made friends with a man named Mark who came in every so often to buy new plants to study, he was becoming a botanist, and they bonded over the serene quietness of flower shops for studying and bad jokes.

Little old ladies pinched his cheeks, the tips were good, and it helped him clear his thoughts to be able to do menial tasks like spray the flowers with water every other hour to keep them wet enough, and to sit behind the cash registers. It was a simple Christmas present from said botanist friend that really inspired his passion, though. More of a gag gift, he was sure that was its intention, but he’d started to take it seriously. Chapter after chapter on the meanings of flowers, how to send hidden messages through plants, and something about the way of communicating in ways other than words had spoken to him.

After that, he’d been able to offer a service of sending messages through flowers. He’d become a more popular salesperson, and he’s shifts had increased, and he loved doing it. He loved the physical way that a message could be conveyed, beautiful explosions of colour to mean ‘I love you’ or ‘Happy Anniversary’, and so he’d started to invest his time in that. Nobody had been all that surprised when the older man who ran the shop had left it to him when he passed, not even Chris himself, and so he’d finished up his degree and started working at the flower shop full time.

Mark had taken on a part-time job there, as well as his internship in a clinical research lab, and they’d hired an extra hand at the register. It made him happy.

Less so, when he had an influx of orders overnight, and instead had to focus on building bouquets to be shipped instead of the garden expansion he was making, but happy nonetheless.

He was twenty-seven custom orders in, Mark already out running the standard bouquets for delivery, and he was stacking them by the garage door, wrapped in ribs and pretty vase-boxes, all ready to go. Licking the tip of his finger to flick the paper over, he let out a sigh, two sets of flowers on one page, his rows raising. It wasn’t unusual for there to be multiple sets on one order form, but as his eyes scanned over the list of preferences, scents and colours, as well as the messages they were wishing to convey, one of his brows rose up.

One request for the pretty set of pink roses and lilies that he’d loving crafted himself, a collection of flowers that signified an apology, and he was always happy to offer advice to any guys who came into the store to buy that set. It was usually a guy fresh to a relationship, messed something up by refusing to unfollow another girl on Instagram, or just saying the wrong thing in front of his friends, introducing a girl as his friend, that one always made him giggle. The second was curious, though, and it made his lips quirk up in a slight smirk at the insinuation of it. Red roses and tulips, a darker and more seductive bunch; new beginnings and early love, and he was willing to place his last dollar on it being an affair.

It felt even more sure when he noticed that the delivery address was that of an office block, and not a home address, a man’s name instead of a woman’s. In the personal notes section, there were no names, and so that was an option ruled out for getting to the bottom of the situation, but he wrote out gift cards, one with swirling writing for a heartfelt apology and the other with a sickly-sweet pick-up line and what he assumed to be an inside joke.

Curled ribbons and plastic wrapping, and the two bouquet were standing side by side for delivery, the van chugging as it was pulled back into the driveway, reversed up, and his blond-haired friend rounding the vehicle, looking utterly worn out, and it was only halfway through the day.

“You’d think it was Valentine’s Day, or something. This is crazy, it’s November!”

He took off his cap, running a hand over his hair and scratching lightly at his scalp, before placing the embroidered garment with the company logo back onto his head. “I’ve got something that’ll cheer you up!”

“Oh, yeah? Is it the rest of the day off?”

“Uh, no.” He deadpanned, his friend laughing as he came to stand by him, and he motioned towards the collection. “However, it is a rather exciting combination. These two-” He tapped at the boxes holding them firm at the base. “-are going to the same place.”

“And that is exciting why, exactly?”

“Because one is supposed to symbolise asking for forgiveness and all that, and the other symbolises new love and beginnings and all that. They’re being delivered to an office block, not a home address.” It took Mark a minute to process it, and Chris watched the gears turn in his friend’s head, before his jaw was dropping, and he let out a disbelieving laugh.

“Oh, and you think it’s a.. y’know.” He only nodded, and he began to load up the other orders into the van, a printout sheet of new addresses and order numbers on the tags, the delivery sheets loaded onto a clipboard to be signed for at each location. The empty van was once again teeming with bright flowers and artfully arranged bundles. Securing them all down and making sure they wouldn't tip over or get crushed during the ride there, he was confident they were ready to go, almost all of them set up, before he was staring at the two he’d recently made once again, his curiosity getting the better of him. “You want me to try and find out while I’m there?”

He almost agreed, it would have been so easy, a simple way to put his questions to rest, but he was invested in it now, and so he already knew what was coming. “No, I’ll deliver these ones myself.

Mark only nodded, slamming and locking the back of the van doors, double-checking the hatches for fresh air were open to stop them from wilting in transit, and then he was back up into the main cabin. The loud sounds of disco music exploding from the van radio as he started it back up, reversing from the driveway and setting off on his next round of deliveries.

Scooping up the first set in his arms, Chris patted down his pockets in search for his keys, finding them in his left side back pocket, unlocking his car with a click of a button, and setting the first batch on the passenger seat. The second soon followed, and he used the seatbelt to secure them in place, rolling the windows down as he set off, programming the address into his SatNav.

It was a short drive, twenty minutes maximum, even with traffic, the tall and shining office building one that he was vaguely familiar with towards the inside of the city, harsh rays of winter sun reflecting off of clean glass windows, all the way up to the top floor, and it was so tall that as he stared at it, he swore the building was swaying. With a bouquet in each arm and the clipboard tucked under one, he backed his way through the polished glass doors, a company insignia printed onto the glass, and he almost wanted to check his shoes for traces of at the appearance of the clean white lobby.

Large tiles of marble flooring, specks of grey flickering throughout them, and white leather couches along some of the walls on one side of the lobby, a waiting room. The other had various coffee and tea machines, recyclable cups and sugar packets, as well as a range of fruits and muffins, and he wanted to scoff a little at the ostentatious nature of it all. The desk was empty as he finally approached, though he could hear chatter in the background, behind reflective glass panels that he couldn’t see through, one-way glass he assumed, and as he balanced the bouquets up on the counter, an older woman, approaching her fifties he presumed, came out, a wide smile on her face as she brushed down the material of her skirt.

“My, my, aren’t those beautiful? Unfortunately, I don’t think they’re for me.”

“Well, ma’am, unless you’re a ‘Mr Robert McKinley’, I’d have to agree.” She chuckled, nodding her head as she looked at them before picking up the phone, and typing in an extension. Lifting it to her ear, she balanced it there against her shoulder, smiling at him once again.

“I’ll just have his assistant come down to collect them and sign for them for you, lovely.” He nodded his head, turning away to be polite as she chatted away on the phone for only a moment, confirming that there was a package to be sorted out, and he twisted back to look at her as she put the phone down. Manicured nails tapped at the desk for only as second, an awkward silence forming, and one of the elevators let out a small ‘dinging’ sound as it was clicked into use, the numbers on the screen above the floor counting down, coming all the way from the twenty-eighth floor. “Would you like a candy?”

He jumped a little, turning back to look at the woman who had now sat down a little distance from him, behind the computer at the desk, and she turned to him, raising up a bowl of neatly wrapped candies, and placing it up on the glass counter for him to reach. He didn’t, but she was staring at him expectantly, and so he plucked the first one from the bowl, offering her a simple nod of his head, and tucking it into the pocket on his shirt.

When a chime sounded throughout the lobby, the sound echoing off of every hard surface, Chris’ attention was drawn to the clicking of heels on the smooth stone flooring. A pretty blouse that looked like it cost more than his entire outfit and a fitted pencil skirt that was sitting just below your knees, your were a professional vision. Except, your hair was a little messy, and there was a wide grin on your face as you typed rapidly on your phone, not even needing to look up to do the walk, but your expression made you look much more approachable than the usual businesswoman.

You clicked off your phone only a few feet away from him, looking up as your gaze went straight to the flowers at his side instead of him, but it gave Chris the chance to take you in just for a moment, and fully observe you, Up close, you were even prettier, soft skin and pretty hair that shined under the lights, and whatever the shade of lipstick was that you were wearing was perfect, because it suited you like it had been made for you.

You reached out, straight past him for a second, and the receptionist gasped, reaching for the bowl of candy, but you were quicker, your hand scooping up a little collection of the sweets and pulling them back, a sound of victory sounding from you, and she mumbled under her breath playfully, rolling her eyes and threatening to start hiding the treats before she ran out, but you only chuckled, unwrapping one and placing it against your tongue, lips brushing your fingers as you turned to him, and he forced his eyes away from your mouth, a blush on his cheeks.

“Oh, wow. Check these out.” You turned to the receptionist, motioning to them, and she only nodded her head, the sounds of a printer firing up in the back room, and she disappeared to collect the sheets, leaving the pair of you alone. “For Mr McKinley?”

You leaned over the counter, snatching up a pen from the other side, and he only nodded, producing the collection sheet, and pointing out the spot that needed singing, the scraping of the pen on paper filling the silence as you signed in both boxes, handing it back to him and tucking the pen behind your ear. “Can I ask you a question?”

“Fire away.” You grinned, unwrapping another candy, leaving the wrapper on the glass alongside the other one, a cheeky move he was sure you’d get reprimanded for by the receptionist who kept a beautifully organised and clean desk and foyer.

“There are two bouquets here, both with flowers that have very different meanings. Can I ask why?”

You hummed, staring at him for a minute as you chewed slowly, before swallowing the sweet in your mouth and smirking slightly. “I’ll answer your question, but only if you answer mine first; what do the flowers mean?”

Chris grinned, unable to hold it in, because he loved getting to talk about his passions, especially when he could show off a little in front of a pretty lady, and he nodded his head. “Pink roses and lilies are an apology, but red roses with tulips are for new love.”

“And do you have any theories?”

“Just the one, but I’m waiting for it to be confirmed.” He chuckled a little at the devious look that flashed over your features as you pulled the red roses bundle toward you, nose pressed into them for a second as you inhaled deeply, a little sigh leaving you afterwards.

“I’m trusting you here, but you’re cute, so I’ll tell you.” Heat rushed to his cheeks, head ducking for just a second, before he was looking back up to catch your gaze, brows raised as he waited excitedly, leaning in to meet you as though a scandalous secret was about to be told, and he supposed that’s exactly what it was. “There’s another receptionist, and intern back in there, fresh out of college, just a year below me, and he’s definitely fucking her.” You tapped a finger against the red roses, before your gaze was flicking to the second bunch, still by his arm as he leaned on the counter. “However, a couple of days ago he had a lunch date scheduled with his wife, and he missed it. I couldn’t find him anywhere, and I couldn’t find the intern either. Not hard to connect the dots.”

“Oh, so he’s covering both of his bases?”

“For sure.” You grinned, backing up a little bit to grab the second bundle, and adjusting them in your arms for balance. “Angie had probably realised too, and dashed in there to tell the girl that she’s got flowers coming.”

You were making your way over to the elevators, and he followed after you, pressing the button to summon the lift, and it hummed to life behind closed metal doors. “You know, since we just became partners in crime, maybe I should get to know your name?”

“Well, that was smooth.” You laughed, the doors opening up, and you stepped inside, placing one bouquet on the floor at your feet and holding onto the other. You caved, giving him your name as he placed his hand over the door to stop them from closing, ad he repeated the name to you, testing it on his tongue as he learnt it. He gave you his own in return when he asked, and when you said it back, his smile widened, already liking the way his name sounded coming for you.

You typed a code into the pad on the wall of the elevator, the screen flashing green as your programming was accepted, and he stepped back, grinning as you waved your fingers at him, the doors closing as you disappeared from view. He snatched up his clipboard on the way out, unable to contain the smile on his face.

Chris Beck hated making deliveries, but this one hadn't been so bad.

There was a genuine smile on his face as he stepped through the glass doors of the lobby, smaller and simpler bouquets this time, both matching and nothing special, but he’d tasked himself with delivering them personally because he’d recognised the name and address immediately, his encounter with the cute assistant he’d met only two weeks prior flashing through his mind as he’d insisted on delivering this order himself, Mark smirking and helping him gather the flowers as soon as he’d spilled all about you.

Now, he had two sets of pretty pink flowers in different shades, and a single red rose in a sleek plastic wrapping, all wraith ribbons wrapped around them were bundled in one arm, the other holding onto his clipboard, and the desk was once again empty as he approached. A bell, sleek and shining silver, and it was a new addition, definitely not present last time, and he eyes it suspiciously for a moment, before pressing a finger against the top lightly, just twice, a little ringing sounding out around the lobby.

A head of curly hair popped out from around the glass, much younger than the previous assistant, and wearing a much tighter skirt, and she grinned widely as she stepped forwards. He couldn’t deny that she was beautiful, fiery red hair and a wide smile, lips painted with red lipstick, and she seemed sweet, but far too intimidating for him to ever consider. Her heels were so tall that he wondered how she even walked in them, long and thin points creating the stilettos.

“Flowers?”

There was an eager tone to her voice, and he put the pieces of the puzzle together, assuming this to be the intern, his eyes flicking down to her name badge for a second, reading it as ‘Clara’. “For Mr McKinley. Is his assistant free tom come and sign for them?”

The woman paused, rolling her lips a little and nodding her head, a coy look on her features before sitting down in the chair and spinning in it to face the phone, lifting it up to her ear and dialling a short connection number. He didn’t seem to need to wait long, before she was summoning you, a ‘flower delivery’ to be claimed, and she was far too excited, only confirming his doubts that this was definitely the mistress. “She’ll be right down.”

“Fantastic.” He wasn’t sure she even processed his words, before her eyes were closing in on the flowers, and he ignored it, turning back to look at the elevator, waiting for the number on the twenty-eighth floor to light up, a number flashing over the screen. It paused on its descent this time, stopping at the eighteenth floor, and then again at the twelfth, and he assumed that somebody else had joined the journey for a short while.

When the doors finally opened, you weren’t built typing away this time, a grin on your face as your eyes swept over the entrance for him, and he waved his fingers again, straightening up from the desk.

“It’s my partner in crime, back again.”

“Missed you too much, just had to return.”

“Of course, you did, because I’m awesome.” You came to a stop before him, peering up at him through bright eyes, and he swallowed thickly, a little nervous but very excited, and he tried to remember any of what Mark had taught him, his friend being far better with the women than he was, and everything from the last-minute crash course he’d been given upon leaving the shop forty-five minutes ago seemed to have gone blank. “So, what really brings you here today?”

You gasped a little as he shifted to show you the collection, sliding the clipboard closer, and you were presented with a pen from him, floral patterning woven along the body, your thumb clicking it on to sign for them. When you passed it back, you shared a look with him, both of your glances flicking over to the intern who was still admiring the flowers, completely oblivious.

“Hey, Clara?” Her head snapped up, pale skin heating with colour as she flushed, and he suppressed a chuckle. “Mr McKinley is in meetings all afternoon, but he’ll want to approve these flowers. Can you put them in water, and I’ll call to have them sent up when he’s ready?”

She only nodded, more than happy to take a gift that she knew one of was for her into the back, hands reaching over to gather them all up. He almost missed it, watching as all of the flowers were taken, too busy watching the way you rolled your eyes at her when she looked away, fond but still a little cool, and he bit at the inside of his cheek to contain his amusement. It was just as she was leaving that his mind cleared, and he cleared his throat.

“Wait, wait, hold on!” She turned back, brows raised, and he reached over, letting her take a step forwards so that he could reach, plucking the single rose from where it was laying over the top of the two. “This, uh, this is actually for you.”

He presented it to you, your eyes widening a little, and you looked between him and the flower several times. His heart was in his throat, worry you were going to reject it, before you were giving him a different smile than he had seen yet, something softer and more endearing, and you plucked it from his hands, bringing it to your nose. “You’re just a big flirt, huh, Chris?” Your eyes fluttered for a moment, before you were looking back up to him through your lashes. “Thank you.”

“It’s no problem, honestly. I own the shop, the least I can do is give my partner in crime a pretty flower.”

You scoffed, but it was out of friendship and playfulness, not judgement or rejection, and silence fell between you both once again. The plastic in your hands wrinkled as you twirled it, wrapping the curled ribbon around your finger for a second, and letting it jump back into place when you let it go. “You busy? Got a packed store to run back to?”

Your question caught him off-guard, and he struggled to find words for a second, before clearing his throat and shaking his head. “No, uh, no. Clear day, actually. This was the last order.”

“So, you’re free for an hour or so?” Chris nodded his head, licking at his lips as he became a little nervous once again. “Well, why don’t I give you a tour? We’ve got some pretty cool stuff here, and I’ll fix you up with a drink from the coffee bar before you go.”

“This building has a coffee bar?”

“You bet it does.” You teased, turning on your heel as you took his question as acceptance, and he scooped up the clipboard, following after you as you made your way to the elevator, and this time when it opened, he stepped inside with you. As soon as the keypad lit up, prompting you to enter your four-digit authorisation code and make a floor selection, and you paused, finger hovering over the electronic selections. “What do you wanna’ see first, then?”

“You got an office?”

“I sure do.” You grinned, tapping for the twenty-eighth floor, and the machinery soon hummed into life, gears jerking smoothly into motion and soft music playing over the speakers in the background.

The ride was quiet, and he twisted his head as though the walls were interesting, just to take them in and hide the expression on his face as he watched you twirl the rose he’d given you between your fingers. There was a tag, one that he hadn't yet seen you read, and while all it contained was his number and a sign of his name, he was still a little nervous for your reaction to it, so he was glad to watch you place it onto your desk to be returned to later as you showed him around.

The building truly was impressive, large floor to ceiling glass windows on one wall of your office, staring out at the city below and giving a view so stunning and far that he could see all the way out to where the concrete faded away into greenery along the horizon, and he was a little taken aback by it all. Dipping the rose into a mug of water from the office kitchen, you promised to transfer it to a vase when you got home that evening, and you showed him all around.

Up and down on the elevator, proudly showing him every aspect of your workplace, and somewhere between the in-house gym and the coffee bar you’d boasted of in the staff food courts, you’d made him promise a tour of the flower shop sometime.

Way over an hour had passed in total, and he would’ve been more than happy to let that go on and on, for the rest of the day until the sun was setting, just to sit on the stools at the high tables at the coffee bar, getting refills on his coffee as he watched you drink herbals teas and chat about everything you got up to in the day, but your boss was paging you again to ask where you were, and he had his own job to return to at some point. You seemed hesitant at first, but had eventually divulged him with a guest security code for the elevator, logging him under your name, so that in future, he would be able to bring the flowers straight upstairs to you, and come and see you whenever he stopped by.

With a to-go cup in hand that had your number written on the cardboard holder, you’d escorted him all the way back to the lobby, pressing a friendly kiss to his cheek as he stepped between the doors, waving a little with what he knew was a goofy smile, waiting until he could no longer see you as the metal doors slid shut to reflect his image back at him, before he was bidding the two women at the reception desk a goodbye, and pretending not to know that they were eavesdropping, because he was floating far too high to care right now.

Chris hadn't been surprised at all when the next batch of flowers had come through, because you’d told him days prior that he could be expecting another batch of apology flowers to come through. Your work had been busy lately, you’d told him so yourself the few weeks that had slid past since you’d exchanged numbers had been filled with an abundance of texts.

Sharing texts had rapidly become phone calls in downtime, exchanging social media and sending one another dumb jokes and funny pictures throughout your workdays. He knew that your job had been getting harder lately, the run down to Christmas making everything a little more difficult, and that you’d been swept off of your feet because your boss had been, too. Eight-hour shifts had become twelve, day through to night, never seeing the light of a winter day unless it was through the windows of your office as you worked, and he had a sympathetic guilt twisting in his gut.

Two bouquets to make up for the lack of time that your boss had been able to spare for either of the women in his life and you’d looked positively exhausted as you came out of your office to greet him at the top of the elevator. You had a frown on your face that barely lifted into a smile as you saw him, even though he knew you were happy to catch sight of him. The usual shade of lipstick that projected boldness and power was gone, your face free of makeup entirely, and styled hair now just pulled up into a bun.

He wondered how long it had been since you’d had a full night’s sleep.

“Hey, sweetheart. How’re you feeling?” You only shook your head, sniffling a little as you suppressed a yawn, before taking one of the bouquets from his arms, and inspecting it carefully.

“These are beautiful.”

“I put a little extra ribbon on them, just for you.” He winked, and that had earned him a little chuckle, glancing at him over your shoulder as he followed you through to your office, and placing them down on the cabinet near the doorway to be distributed when your boss had a free second to look at them. Chris felt his own eyes widen in shock as he looked around, the stacks of paperwork littered around the surfaces were astonishing, and there was other mess scattered among that.

Stationary littered the desk, clearly trying to get everything sorted, and almost every draw in the room was half-open, your heels kicked off by the edge of the desk and there was a clear spot against one of the walls where you’d been sitting, a patch clear with papers spread out around you, wording and statements on them that made his head spin as he looked at them. Business definitely wasn’t his forte.

You rubbed a hand over your forehead, cursing a little as you tried to find a pen that wasn't a highlighter, and he didn’t miss the crack in your voice as you scoured the paper stacks. Leaning down to pick one up from the dropped pen pot on the floor, and offering it to you. A little sigh passed your lips, before you were taking it from him, clicking it into action and signing your name on both of the forms to confirm the delivery, a simple ritual of habit by this stage, as he knew that even if you didn’t he wasn’t risking any legal action from you.

You rubbed a hand over your forehead afterwards, rolling your shoulders and shaking yourself down as you tried to hit that reset button on your mood, but it wasn't working, it didn’t take a genius to see it, and so he reached out, placing a comforting squeeze to your forearm, fingers slipping a little lower to latch onto your wrist loosely.

“Okay, you’re a little overwhelmed in here, huh?” You let out a weak laugh, glancing around yourself and nodding. “It’s time for a break. Take your lunch break now, we’re getting out of here.”

“I can’t leave, I have too much to do. I’ll just get something from the food courts, a sandwich, maybe.” You slumped down into your desk chairs, the wheels on it carrying you backwards slightly, and he placed his hands on his hips, shaking his head at you.

“You have to go. It’s doctor’s orders.”

“Which doctor?” You scoffed, rolling your eyes at him, and he gasped a little, hands finding your own and pulling you to your feet, despite the whine that you let out.

“This doctor. I went to medical school, I get to give the orders. You, my dear, need one hour of rest and relaxation from your workplace, stat.” You started up at him for a second, seeming to weigh it out in your mind, but he wasn’t backing down, and he swore he saw that realisation click within your eyes, because you caved.

Slipping your heels on and grabbing your jacket from the back of the door, you logged your timeout of the building in the lobby with Angie, who cooed at you a little as she watched you go, a pitiful look on her face as she knew just how hard you were working too, before his hand was settling on your lower back.

A ten-minute walk, finding a table in a small pizzeria on the corner of a street, one that he’d been dying to try for months now, and a quick order, and you were slumping down tiredly against the table. The workload always increased at Christmas, sales shot through the roof, all the expansions of your company were filing for Christmas bonuses, parties, annual reports and then, of course, there were the usual rises and falls in statistics over the year that needed to be dealt with.

It was chaotic, to say the least.

Over a hot and freshly baked pizza, your selection of toppings, and a soda that made you wrinkle your nose from the fizziness within, you looked like there was a little more life within you when you’d been leaving.

You spilled it all to him, telling him every struggle you’d been facing, and while he didn't understand half of what you were saying, he was more than happy to just to listen. He couldn't offer much advice, or anything of the sort that might be helpful, but it seemed that just being able to talk to someone had made the day a little brighter.

The chill in the air and the biting winds had made you wrap your coat around yourself even tighter on the walk back to your work, but there was more of a pep in your step and a lighter tone to your voice, a little more chipper and slightly less drained as you began to make your way back across the carpark. His arm was sitting around your waist, keeping you pulled up to his side against the cold of the winter. Instead of guiding you over to the door, though, his first stop was his car, ensuring that you couldn't see what he had placed on the passenger seat until he was ready for you to see it.

Leaning yo back against the cold metal, he unlocked the car, making you promise to cover your eyes, and while making a few jokes about how you were sure this was how friendly guys would kidnap a girl, you did as he’d asked. You gasped a little at the rustling of fabric in the wind and under his hands, seeming to guess what it was before ever seeing the gift, because a wide smile spread over your features.

“Is that what I think it is?”

“Depends, what do you think it is?” He teased, making you wait a little longer, and you dragged your lower lip through your teeth, a hopefully look spreading over what half of your face he could actually see.

“Flowers, maybe?”

“Then you would be correct!” Your hand fell away from your eyes, taking a second to blink back into adjustment of the rays the winter sun gave off, before you were brightening up even further at the bundle he was holding in his hands.

Soft petals in different shades of yellow, some duller and some standing out to shine like the sun, but it was a stunning bunch all over, and he’d been sure to pick the freshest and best-looking plants from each pot as he built the bouquet especially for you before leaving for his delivery. He let you stare at them for a second, running a finger over some of the petals, sniffling the collection carefully, and admiring each individual plant, before finally looking back up to him, a brow raising as you waited for an explanation on the plants.

“I just thought yellow was a bright colour. Nothing particularly special about these ones, I wanted to cheer you up.”

He scratched nervously at the back of his neck, and you hummed happily, bringing them up to admire once again, before letting out a happy little sound from the back of your throat, one that made his cheeks flush with embarrassed warmth, bringing a pink tinge to the pale skin. “Don’t yellow roses mean friendship?”

His stomach dropped a little, but he swallowed thickly, and nodded. He was impressed that you knew that, a random fact to know, but he almost felt like he was being friend-zoned by the statement, even though he was the one who’d given you the flowers. It was only a few days ago that he’d realised he might have feelings that weren’t going away any time soon, the original fascination and infatuation was becoming something a little deeper, he often found himself thinking of you when he was at work and filling or orders, or at home cooking, or even letting his morning coffee. You seemed to be on his mind a lot nowadays, and he was beginning to regret the yellow rose choice, worried he’d sent the wrong message. How ironic.

“Well, I’m really glad you consider us friends, Chris. I think you’re great, and I hope we’re friends for a long time.”

He tried to contain his disappointment, nodding his head as he stuffed his hands into his pockets. Walking you up to the front door, both of the receptionists made a point of fawning dramatically over the flowers in your arms as you signed back in, exactly an hour later and perfectly on time for the end of your lunch break, but with a lot more joy and a rejuvenation for the work you were doing, enough to carry you through the rest of your day.

Standing at the elevator and waiting for it to arrive, his cheeks were warm enough as it was, the attention you were getting front he not-so-discreet spying of the receptionists making him even more nervous, but if Angie and Clara were watching then that's their choice, because he didn’t have much left to lose, now.

Cupping your cheeks in his hands, he made sure that you were looking at him, a soft and shy smile on your lips as he thumbs smoothed over your skin, trying to reassure you without using words. “Chin up, sweetheart. You’re gonna’ be just fine, okay?”

“Okay, Chris.” You nodded your head, words whispered as you agreed with him, and when he pulled you a little closer, you tipped your head to meet him, his lips pressing to your forehead in a tender kiss, his heart leaping in his chest as you did. The elevator dinged, and he snapped away from you, both of you lingering for a moment longer, something unspoken laying between you, but it was broken as a colleague stepped out of the box, excusing himself as he squeezed past you, and the moment was over.

Waving goodbye, he wiggled his fingers in response to you, and he took a moment to himself to steady his racing heart once the doors had closed with you inside. He bid his farewell to the two women ogling him with wide eyes from behind the desk, trying not to let his nervousness show, to be confident like Mark had taught him to be, and it lasted all the way to the car, before he broke it with a ragged sigh and a little cheer to himself, immediately dialling his best friend on the car’s phone as he pulled out of the parking lot.

It was the kind eyes of Angie that met him as he stepped into the building, palms sweating a little and a shake to his breath, and the flowers in his arms were practically vibrating with nerves as he approached the front desk. Placing them down on the glass surface, she admired them quietly, taking a look at them all before he was being offered the candy dish that she usually had hidden, and he took a peppermint gratefully, red and green swirls along it through the clear wrapping, the festive theme of the late December days was shining through.

“Only the one bouquet this time?”

“They, uh, they aren’t for Mr McKinley.” He mumbled, unwrapping the hard sweet and shoving it wrapped into his pocket, placing the treat on his tongue and sucking on it lightly for something to do, sweetened mint flavours exploding over his senses.

“Oh, so these are a pretty bouquet for our lovely (Y/N), then?”

He could only nod, wondering absently whether or not sweat was beginning to physically show through his shirt, and just how fast his heart was going, because he felt like he was about to pass out. “I think she’s in a meeting right now, but I can get them sent up for her, if that works for you, my dear?”

“Can I just go and drop them off in her office? It’ll make a nice surprise for her to come back to.”

She considered it for a moment, mulling over the security risk and all other options, and he was ready to give up, before she eventually agreed. “Alright, but only if you tell me about the flowers. She’s been telling me all about the pretty bouquet you make with meanings, even showed me your website.”

“She did? She does?”

Pride flushed through his system at that knowledge, and Angie seemed to pick up on it, her face cracking in an even wider smile. “Yes, and they were all beautiful, but I don’t remember this set on there.”

“It’s new, I made it. It’s a personal one, I suppose.”

“It got a name, yet?” He mulled it over, staring down at the pretty bunch in his hands. Dark shades of blue and black, splashes of purple that were speckled with white, and he decided it resembled the night sky rather nicely.

“What do you think of ‘Starry Night’?”

“Very fitting.” She confirmed, and his heart managed to slow a little in his chest as at least one thing on his to-do list became sorted. “So, blue roses, but what are the rest?”

“They would be black pansies and gypsophila.” She hummed, continuing to fix him with that curious gaze, and he knew that wasn't going to cut it. “The blue roses are for mystery, and gaining the impossible. I dye them myself. Black pansies mean broken love, which, I guess isn’t totally suitable here, but combined with the gypsophila, it’s more like the chance of a new beginning, and not necessarily unrequited feelings.”

“You really like her, huh?”

“That obvious?” He grinned, knowing that his feelings may as well be lit up with a neon sign above his head. “You’ll get them to her after her meeting, then?”

“Of course, I will.” She took them over the desk, writing down a memo on her notepad so that she didn't forget, and he watched as the pretty bundle was carried away. “Did you leave a card, or do you want to write a note?”

“Just tell her to text me if she likes them?” She beamed, nodding her head, and he backed away, turning on his heel, a little disappointed that he didn’t get to give them to you himself, but simultaneously relieved at the fact, because he could feel his pulse racing right to the tips of his fingers with how intense it was.

You’d clearly had a busy day, because it wasn’t until Chris was shutting up shop that he finally felt his phone buzz, doing his last check over of all the systems and machines, when a text from you came in, diverting every ounce of attention that he had.

[stardust 🌌 ✨] so, do these flowers have a hidden meaning, or did you just put them together because they look good?

He grinned at his phone, shaking his head slightly as a laugh left his lips, and he leaned on the wall, fingers hovering over the keyboard as he thought out his response.

> a little bit of both.

It was a few minutes before you replied, this time, a photograph coming through, of you carrying your flower out of the building, setting off towards the elevators from your office, if he was depicting the background correctly.

[stardust 🌌 ✨] gonna tell me what it is, or do I have to google it?

He paused, not quite having got that far, and the relief of not having to explain his feelings or you before had drowned out the fact that he’d have to tell you at some point, and his heart was leaping into his throat.

He gave himself a minute, checking over the locks and windows to make sure everything was sealed up, setting the thermostat and setting the alarm, not yet activating it, but making sure that everything was done, right down to holding his keys for the main door in his hands. Locking up the building, he sealed down the metal guard, triple checking the padlock, and making his way to the car.

Engine on, heaters up, his lights being the last to flood the parking lot as he tried to man up, before finally bringing back up the unopened message, taking the notifications and opening his texts.

> long story short, I’m trying to ask you out. using flowers, because words normally fail me in times of importance.

He let out a slow breath, running a hand over his face and just hoping that it was acceptable, his phone buzzing before he’d even managed to start up the car property for his journey home. His hand hovered over where it was laying on the passenger seat, considering whether or not to pick it up, before forcing down his nerves and reaching for it.

[stardust 🌌 ✨] friday night work for you?

He stared at the message for a few seconds, confirming that they were real, and he wasn’t just making it up because it’s what he wanted to read, before letting out a loud and victorious set of cheers for only him to ever know about.

> I’ll pick you up from your work at 5.

Chris was sitting in one of the white leather chairs that had been scattered around the lobby, shifting slightly awkwardly, nerves getting the best of him. He knew you wouldn't stand him up, but as the clock ticked over past 5:10 PM, he worried a little that you were trying to find a way to let him down, having decided that you’d changed your mind on wanting to go out with him, and he tried to steady his nerves.

Brushing over the flowers in his hands, he adjusted his grip on them a little, not wanting the plastic to become damp with his sweaty palms, and swallowing thickly again. Finally, the elevator doors chimed, and he let out a nervous sigh, taking a deep breath and sliding his eyes shut as he calmed himself down, certain that his heart no longer had a rhythm and was just beating erratically and rapidly like the seismograph in a disaster movie.

Twisting his head a little, he let out a deep breath, watching as you came toward him, looking far more casual than he had ever seen you ever had before. Jeans and jumper, a striped scarf that looked suspiciously handmade in the sweetest of ways, and sneakers on your feet instead of heels, dropping your height down by a few inches, and he was so used to looking straight at you, never needing to look down, that it caught him a little by surprise.

“I’m sorry I’m late!” You looked a little flushed, sounded slightly out of breath, and he realised you must’ve been rushing, not stalling, and he felt a little calmer at that thought. Placing down the flowers on the chairs, he stood up properly, letting out a slow breath.

“Don’t worry about it. You look beautiful.”

“I thought I’d change, heels and pencil skirts are great for work, but not so comfy for a first date.” There was a bag on your arm, which he assumed your business-wear was stuffed in, and he gave himself a moment to take you in. He liked you better this way, you looked more like yourself, the version of you that he knew you to be from hours of late-night calls and texting, weeks of getting to know one another, both in-person and via messages, and the formal outfits he was so used to seeing you in were just a cover for the real you.

He realised he’d been staring too long, jumping slightly in his panic, before turning away and grabbing the bundle that he’d brought with him. “I brought you flowers. Not as special as normal guys, since I own the flower shop and it's not the first time, but I did create this bouquet design just for you.”

“I think it’s pretty special.” Your words were whispered, taking the bundle of flowers and bringing them into yourself to admire delicately, a combination of red and white roses, with green bells peppered throughout. “Okay, so, let me guess on this one.”

He only nodded his head, watching as you considered the bundle, licking over your lower lip and taking it hostage between your teeth as your thoughts whirled before his very eyes.

“White roses are innocence, right? Seems fitting for a first date. Red roses are romance, of course.” You smirked a little then, glancing up at him through your lashes, and he grinned, feeling totally at ease now that he was under your gaze. “What about the green ones?”

“Green bells. They’re for good luck.”

“Well, I don’t think you’ll need any luck, you’ve pretty much already got me wrapped around your little finger, Chris Beck.” You adjusted the flowers in your arms, taking his hand with your other one, and lacing your fingers together, and he squeezed back in security as heat flooded over his face in a warm blush. “However, I do think it’s sweet, so I’ll accept it.”

“I wanted to do something Christmassy for you, but I didn’t want to go with any of the typical ones. Holly, mistletoe, poinsettia, they didn’t feel unique enough.”

“I don’t know, I think mistletoe can be good.” You leaned in a little, his brows raising slightly as your wide smile dimmed down, the humour of the moment changing, and his free hand found your waist, fingers playing with yours on the other, and he pulled you a little closer, taking the hint that you were laying down.

“Maybe just this once.” He teased, nose bumping against your own, and he could still taste the sweet honey on your breath from the herbal teas you were always concocting, warm breath shared between you. As your head twisted to close the gap, he became acutely aware of the lingering feeling of not being alone, the both of you jumping and snapping apart a little when the loud crashing of a mug on the floor sounded out loudly.

Two sets of voices cursing followed it, Angie’s and Clara’s heads both ducking down behind the desk as they looked at the mess on the floor, and his jaw dropped as he released the two had been watching on eagerly this whole time, and he’d been so wrapped up in you that he hadn't realised there’d been an audience all along.

He would’ve been embarrassed, had it not been for the way your face pressed into his shoulder as you tried to contain your laughs, and he found the amusement in it too, his arm slipping around your waist as he matched your laugher, shaking his head as he watched the two women try and clear up the split coffee and smashed mug.

“Hey, ladies, I’ll see you Monday!”

The popped back up, sheepish looks on their faces as they nodded, and he gave them both a little wave, letting you tug him along by the hand that was still connected to your own, towards the open doorway of the building, a chill rolling in. As you stepped out, a chill took over, and his hand slipped from yours to sliding around your waist instead, pulling you closer to him, and you guided him over to where your car was parked, and he was more than happy to simply follow.

“So, what do you have planned?”

“I thought something a little more relaxed would be fun. How do you feel about a tree lighting ceremony, and some street food?” You curled into him a little more, a happy sigh leaving you.

“Sounds perfect to me.”

Unlocking the car, he let you go, long enough to put your back in the trunk and lay your flowers out on the front seat, locking it back up as you deemed yourself ready to go. “Ready to go?”

“Yes, but just one thing, first. Something I’ve been waiting weeks for.”

His brows raised, lips parting to ask you waist it was, but your hand latched onto the front of his shirt, tugging him forward as you leaned up, and he groaned a little, a soft sound but vibrating through him as your mouth closed over his, soft and warm, lips pressing together, and a shock ran along his entire body. His hand slipped to your waist, one cupping your cheek as he pulled you a little closer, pressing you back into the car as your bodies came flush up together, and he felt like his legs were going to give out underneath him as you sighed out against his mouth, a breathy moan carried with it.

Twisting his head to the side, he barely pulled back for breath before he was diving right back into you, more confident and passionate this time with his movements. He took control, feeling the way you sagged into his hands as he did, lips working with yours in an intimate dance of their own making, slow and teasing movements, before finally he was pulling away, just far enough to press his forehead to your own as the two of you panted lightly, trying to catch your breath.

“Worth the wait?” He mused, feeling your breathless giggle wash over his lips, before you were leaning up just enough to peck his lips once more, and his lips were still pouted, chasing after you as you backed away for a second, before he was licking over them and cracking his eyes open to look at the adoring expression on your face.

“Definitely worth the wait.”

[hungarianbee]

sightless but steady

A/N: I wanted to try my hand on Warritt the All-Seeing for a while now. Writing a blind character who’s not *really* blind is both fun and a challenge. I have a lot of feelings about the Viper witchers, and so I snuck a lot of headcanons (about Ivar, Warritt, Letho, Auckes) into this piece. You can read about them in detail at the end of the fic. TW for: mention of non-descriptive torture

It is a relatively quiet night at the Blood Gate Keep. The young adepts went to sleep hours ago, safely tucked away in their quarters. To the average witcher, Gorthur Gvaed lays dormant, echoing the silence of its occupants.

But not to Warritt. In his room, the Viper bundles himself in furs, sitting in front of the lit hearth with his back to it. The fire’s heat seeps into his bones, touching his exposed neck, and he tilts his head back into the sensation. To him, the keep always feels just a tad cold. It’s nothing, compared to the Bear’s Haern Caduch or the Wolves’ Kaer Morhen in winter, but the Vipers’  mutations keep their temperatures lower than the other school’s.

As he flicks his fingers, his magic activates the Supirre Sign again, keeping it steady with years of practice. Just like that, the night comes alive around him.

Beneath the sound of the firewood cracking, he notices that there are rats in the walls again, scratching at the stones with their tiny claws. He makes a mental note to alert Evil-Eye to their presence later, then moves on. A floor beneath him, Gerring of Kharkiv is playing with his knives, just as usual. The fast tack-tack-tack reverberates in Warritt’s ears as the knives embed themselves in the wooden surface of the upturned table. A mouser’s yowls break it up, and he pushes the Sign further, taking note of the steady heartbeats of the snakelets. As he concentrates, he feels several that are too fast to be asleep. Auckes, he thinks. And Letho.

Warritt shucks his furs, taking one with him and folding the rest on his unused bed. With a reverse Igni, lowers the temperature of the hearth, leaving the wood smoldering. The smoke of it settles in his barely open mouth, sticking to his palate. Throwing the fur over his shoulder, he opens his door, just as Ivar Evil-Eye takes a corner in his direction, the scent of blood and iron trailing after him like an avenging wraith.

Up until this point, the Viper Grandmaster was pacing his office, as was his bad habit, then changed course, and took a detour around the Keep to the snakelets’ sleeping quarters. To air his head, most likely, and to make sure that everyone was safe. That Letho was safe. There is a lot of weight on the witcher’s shoulders that he refuses to share with them, he knows. Some days, when the pacing gets agitated and Warritt can hear his rapid breathing when he talks his way over an issue, he thinks that this will be Evil-Eye’s end. A fire can only burn bright for so long without kindling.

“Master Evil-Eye,” he greets quietly.

The thumping of Gerring’s weapons stop. A shift of skin on fabric as the man looks up, breathing carefully steadied. He’s listening. Warritt minimizes his Sign to the palm of his hand. He’s been told the yellow glow is quite noticeable. “Anything I can help you with?”

Evil-Eye shakes his head to himself, but breaks the motion midway. A heavy sigh. “I can’t deal with the brats tonight,” he admits. His tone is weary. Warritt tries to imagine what his expression must look like, but it’s been too long and the visuals appear murky in his mind. Something that might match the scents of frustration and fatigue. After all, Evil-Eye doesn’t have to hide from him; he can’t see. Then, the taste of ash ignites, becomes spicy with rekindled rage. “Did you know about Letho of Gulet?”

He can’t even finish the sentence as Warritt flashes his fangs at the leader. The hiss that leaves between his teeth rattles in his throat. “No! I would have stopped Daibesyck. Any of us would have. And you know that.”

In his rise of emotion, his Supirre sputters out. He casts it again with one hand, the other going up to rake through his curls.

Evil-Eye stands still, like a statue. Then a new tension enters his shoulders, and he turns away. “I’ve dealt with Daibesyck,” he states. Disdain colours his voice. “The worm wanted me to thank him. To acknowledge what a marvelous achievement he did, finding the perfect subject for his little successful experiment.” He breathes through his venom. “I paid him in kind. He stopped screaming a few hours ago.”

Warritt’s face tightens, even as dark satisfaction courses through him. He knows. He heard. But it wasn’t aimed at him; it’s a confirmation for their little eavesdropper. This time tomorrow everyone will know that they are one mage down.

“How’s he?”

Evil-Eye cracks his neck to the side. “He’s feverish, still. He asked for you.”

“Then I will be there.” And that’s that. Warritt lengthens his steps, taking the fur beneath one arm, the other still pulsing with Supirre. The Grandmaster matches him until they reach Letho’s quarters, where he lags behind, stopping just by the door.

The blind witcher makes his way to the bed. The scent of sickness leaves a sour note on his tongue, but that’s not his main concern. Because in this close proximity, he’s sure of it - Letho’s usual outline changed.

As he climbs into the bed he bundles the furs under Letho’s bald head, hoping that his own scent will ease the young witcher. A stone sits in Warritt’s stomach; last time he’s been in his presence, the kid had a crown of soft curls. His calloused hands slide on broad, impossibly muscled shoulders that emanate a heat that is uncharacteristic to witchers, then cup the back of Letho’s neck gently.

“Letho,” he calls, and the snakelet twitches under him, turning towards his chest. He can barely fit. A soft sound escapes him, almost a sob, and his hands come up to shield his still sensitive eyes. Warritt immediately releases his Sign to plunge the room in darkness, shushing him. “It’s Warritt, bud. I am here, just as you asked.”

“Warritt,” Letho parrots back, slurring. Without the Sign, Warritt is not prepared for the fingers prodding at the heavy scarring by his eyes, but he lets it happen anyway.

With impossible strength, Letho pulls Warritt down and curls his arms around him in a constricting hug. Warritt stifles his wheeze, breathing through it, and he presses closer still, wrapping himself around the kid as much as he can, tucking him under his chin and tangling their legs. One of his hands comes up to squeeze Letho’s nape. The pressure seems to calm the young witcher, and he mindlessly bites down on Warritt’s leathers on his shoulder, just to hold him still. Warritt notes absentmindedly that Evil-Eye slipped away when he wasn’t paying attention.

They stay like that for a long time. Eventually, Letho’s breathing evens out, slipping into an uneasy sleep. His muscles twitch and release, and Warritt rearranges them so he’s plastered to the snakelet’s back, hugging him tightly, not minding the cold sweat.

“Auckes,” he calls softly. He hears the creak of soft leathers in the rafters as the boy shifts warily. He drops down, landing without difficulty.

“Bloede,” the little snakelet curses in Elder, silently but with feeling. “How did you know I was here? You didn’t even use your Sign.”

“Language,” Warritt chides. “You were so loud I could hear you from a tower away. You were lucky Master Evil-Eye was in a cordial mood, he would have had you for breakfast.”

“Not true,” Auckes sulks.

The boy’s radiating disbelief warms him. He gestures with one hand, beckoning, and Auckes slips onto the bed, curling over Letho. The boy shakes a little and Warritt scents the residue of distress on him, so he presses a warm hand between his shoulder blades, drawing slow circles.

Auckes presses into his touch, then blurts out. “If I asked you, would you shave my head?”

Warritt doesn’t stop his motions, despite his surprise. “Why would you ask that?”

For a long moment, Auckes doesn’t say anything, just clenches his fist in Letho’s sleeping shirt. He smooths the soft material between his fingers anxiously. “Letho cried ,” he whispers it like a secret, and his tone belies his astonishment. Letho never cries. “He saw his reflection, you know.”

“I don’t know, Auckes,” prompts Warritt gently, lying through his teeth. “Why would he be upset because of that?”

“He’s big. And bald. He tried to hug Serrit and hurt him. Twas an axi-” he trips on the word in his haste, then tries again, slowly. “Ac-ci-dent. He didn’t mean it, I know. It scared him. And Serrit said that he wasn’t mad, so it’s okay.”

Warritt hides his sad smile, endeared by Auckes’ sharp perception and big heart. “Aye,” he breathes.

Another beat passes between them.

“I want you to cut my hair, so Letho knows it’s okay, too. That he’s not alone.” Auckes’ voice is so very small, like the breeze in Tir Tochair’s sheltered meadows.

Warritt’s throat constricts. His fingers follow the thin braid that hangs on each side of  Auckes’ face, then cards into his soft ponytail.

“Alright,” he rasps. “Alright.”

--------- * ---------

Note: Auckes canonically can speak really good Elder. The little curse word “Bloede” can be translated to “bloody hell”.

Headcanons:

Warritt is the big-brother of the keep - he’s both a blind badass and the resident kidwrangler (and everyone clearly knows it)

Warritt is a genius - this is kiiind of canon, but regardless: he has an unorthodox thought process; he likes thinking outside of the box, and that’s how he isn’t bothered by his blindness and modified an already existing Sign (Supirre in canon; and also Igni in this fic)

Vipers are not shy of physical touch, on the contrary! - a little bit of cutagen here; Vipers like to coil up together in almost constricting hugs. Even those who haven’t gone through the Trials adopt this habit; the physical touch (hugs) is something they can claim as their own good thing

Letho went through the Grasses twice, like Geralt (aka twicegrassed) - compared to the rest of the School, Letho is an outlier. I explained his proportions with him surviving the Trials twice

Ivar was unaware of the further experimentations, and he flipped - a hc i adopted from @lookoutrogue. Ivar himself went through multiple Trials, that’s how he ended up with his mutated eye. My throwaway mage OC, Daibesyck was tortured to death because he went over the invisible line Ivar carved, hurting one of his own and disrespecting his authority

Auckes shaved his head in solidarity for Letho - originally i thought he would have done it when he was older, but tiny Auckes said no, i wanna do it now

Gerring of Kharkiv wasn’t supposed to appear, but he didn’t budge. So I guess now he’s an insomniac old witcher who likes to waste time and furniture with knife-throwing *shrug*

[drdevoraak]

Tarot 101~

Major Arcana XI-XXI

Remember to keep note of how you feel about the cards (i.e. if you like them or not).

Please only scroll down once you’ve done this!

Major Arcana XI – Justice

This is one of the most complicated cards to understand emotionally. Once understood, however, it changes your life. (It was after finally connecting with this card that my teacher stopped working as a surgeon and dedicated her life to metaphysical work.)

Most people think of justice as “being blind”, because then justice is fair... You will see that she doesn’t wear a blindfold – because nothing is fair. Things simply are.

~This is what is represented by the tapestry hung behind her. We humans are in front of that tapestry, begging to be let to the other side, where we will know and understand and see the big picture... But if we cannot accept that nothing is fair... We can never move past her and go beyond the tapestry.~

This is the card of understanding.

Major Arcana XII – The Hanged Man

If you remember from what we said about the Fool, Tarot is a journey – now that you have moved beyond the veil and accept that things simply are, you see the world differently... 

Welcome to the realm of the Hanged Man.

Notice that his clothes aren’t following gravity. That he seems at peace with the moment. Even beyond seeming peaceful... He is serene. He is happy.

It hurts. Things being does not mean that they will not cause pain. Pain is real and pain will befall. But there is a reason. Rejoice in that.

This is the card of new perspectives.

~Try to see other people’s viewpoints... Changing your world view also changes the way you look at people.~

Major Arcana XIII – Death

With this acquiring of a new perspective, there is a clear break. You BEFORE, and you AFTER – a piece of you has got to go to move on. Remember – this isn’t a bad thing; it just is.

It’s hard to let go, and that’s okay. But to move on, you have to – rid yourself of this “woe is me” energy that you’ve been carrying for thirteen cards. You will be so used to it that you will be afraid and that you won’t know what is left beyond that. 

And that’s scary.

~But it’s better to let it go than to hold on and to drown in it.~

This is the card of moving on.

Major Arcana XIV – Temperance

NOTE: Despite temperance usually meaning moderation, the word is used more in the sense of transformation.

Observe the angel. The water is doing something that should be impossible. And yet, the angel is making it happen anyway. 

Observe the angel’s feet too – water signifies emotion, and earth being grounded. The angel is finding the balance between both... And look at them. They are glowing. Their wings are spread – they’re at the best.

This is the card of transforming your pain.

Everything that has hurt you? There is nothing you can do about it now. 

But it has transformed you – you are never the same after pain. Use that. 

Take your emotional pain and ground yourself in it. Channel it. Choose HOW it transforms you. Grow into a bigger, better person. 

Not despite your pain, but because of it.

Major Arcana XV – The Devil

NOTE: Do the two figures seem familiar? This card is numbered 15 (1+5 = 6... And VI is the Lovers card. You guessed it! It’s thelovers.v2)

The Lovers are immobile, stuck in the Devil’s realm. (addiction? vice? self-loathing? etc.)

But look at how loosely they are chained. Their heads could easily fit through the loop of chain and walk away. 

It is up to them to leave. 

You can always choose to move on – it’s not easy, that’s true! Because despite the chains being loose, you are at the Devil’s feet, and the Devil will do anything and everything to make you feel alone, seperate, isolated, ostracized. Look at how the lovers are placed indentically, and yet feel worlds apart...

But again, they aren’t. It’s a lie. You are never completely alone – and you can ALWAYS break the cycle.

This is the card of looking at your self-destructive beahviours.

~Develop the courage to admit that you have them, and learn to move on.~

Major Arcana XVI – The Tower

NOTE: Notice the “squiggles” of flames? They are actually the Hebrew letter “yod”, which represents the first letter of “God” (it also means “breath of God”). This does not solely correlate to the Jewish interpretation of a singular god: it is the concept of something beyond us humans, of the universe, etc. Take that as you will.

The yods are everywhere in this card because it is showing you that despite you falling out of this tower, the universe is right there holding you, supporting you. It might be terrifying a process, but you will be alright.

This is the card that reminds you that you have nothing to fear.

Major Arcana XVII – The Star

Notice the woman’s foot and knee... They aren’t touching the ground or the water: she is hovering – she is beyond being controlled by her emotions and material things. It is also why she is naked... She has nothing to hide, she has nothing to fear.

Look at how the water flows so freely around her – she lets herself feel all of her emotions, but they have no control over her anymore. She is serene and hopeful.

This is the card of wishes and hope.

Major Arcana XVIII – The Moon

NOTE: Do the towers in the background seem familiar? They are the same as in the Death card.

Observe our little friend at the bottom of this card: this is a crayfish, which is a bottom-feeder. It is telling you to dig deep, to dig up those things that are hard and scary to look at.

The yods appear again to remind you that again, there is nothing to fear about doing so. It is important for growth.

This is the card of looking deep within oneself.

Major Arcana XIX – The Sun

Once one has had the time, the patience, and the courage to truly look at oneself and work on those things that are less than great... There is a pure joy that fills one’s soul – hence the small smiling child, who seems to be radiating nothing but happiness.

This is the card of innocence, awe, humility, and joy.

Major Arcana XX – Judgement

Observe the brightly coloured angel playing its trumpet down to the almost zombie-like people below. 

~It is crying out: “You have done all of this work on yourself, it’s time to reemerge, to come back to the world. Go! Awaken!”~

This is the card of urgency.

Major Arcana XXI – The World

This is a complex card, but to shorten it for a 101 course...?

Things have come full circle.

Notice that it is a woman, the opposite of the male Magician (circle). She is holding wands (just like the Magician, circle – but holding two, because you not only know that first superficial side of you... You now know the second side of yourself). She is flying, completely in control (opposite of the Magician, not only standing grounded, but was also hiding behind his clothes and his desk.

This is the card of everything being as it should, of things being complete.

All is well that ends well.

If you have a deck on hand, I would suggest doing your first pull with the first twenty-one (21) cards – ask the cards what you should be paying attention to as you shuffle, and pull. If it’s reversed, flip it back upright for now: again, this is Tarot 101.

[beginning | next: minor arcana ace-x of wands]

[swainlake]

giffing from a still image tutorial

hello! ive gotten a few asks about how i make gifs from a still image so i figured i’d share my secrets and try my hand at a tutorial! i’ve tried to make this accessible for everybody regardless of their photoshop skills but ofc if you have any questions or get stuck i’m always just an ask away!

edit: i’ve recently added a second, much less time-consuming tutorial here!

                                                         what you’ll be making:

                                                           what you’ll need: 

—a still image of your choice —photoshop (i used cc but as long as it’s got timeline you should be fine) —please like/reblog if you found this useful!

                                         please note: this tutorial is pretty image heavy!

okay so first we start off by finding an image we want to turn into a gif. for the purpose of this tutorial i used this one:

notice how it’s a lot bigger than the end result? that’s on purpose! you want some wiggle room!

so you’re gonna open photoshop and go straight to image > canvas size and then change your canvas size to whatever you want. tumblr’s image dimensions can be found here & i chose to make my gif 268 x 140.

then, paste your image onto the canvas & resize it using the scale function.

note: you must leave some extra room so the image can move! like this:

once you’ve got it to the size you want, jump over to the layers and duplicate layer 1. and then do it again. and again. do it a lot. (i normally recommend having at least 100 duplicate layers because you won't be able to add any extra later on so better to have too many than not enough!

once you’ve got all your layers, delete the white background layer and then click the create video timeline button

which should bring us to this:

then, click the three little boxes on the bottom left 

this will turn your video timeline into a single frame:

next, click this button on the right side of the timeline and then click make frames from layers

now you should have as many frames as you do layers:

this isn’t required but normally at this point i’ll delete the original layer & the frame that says ‘5 secs’ so i’ve only got the copies. this just makes it easier to keep count of how many times you need to move the frames/layers.

this is the annoying part: you need to adjust every single layer/frame individually, pixel by pixel, to actually turn it into a moving gif. click on the layer & the matching frame and shift it up using the top arrow button on your keyboard. important: you must highlight both the layer and the frame or it won't move correctly. 

so i’ll shift the first layer up by one pixel, then the second layer (layer copy 2) by two pixels, then the next (layer copy 3) by three pixels, etc, etc.

now i ended up doing this for a total of 64 frames but obviously you can do it for however many frames you like! once you’ve gotten to the end of your image or have reached your desired result, just delete the remaining frames/layers because you don’t need them.

this is what you should have:

i was happy with the number of frames i had at this point but i decided that i preferred it going the other direction because it flowed better so i simply clicked the timeline menu button on the top right of the timeline

and clicked reverse frames which gave me this: 

(to avoid needing to reverse the frames i could’ve used the same process but just used the down arrow on my keyboard instead of the up arrow & just shifted them downwards instead of upward. this applies for any direction really: if you want it to move sideways instead of up/down just use the left or right keys!)

then, i edited it the same way i would any other gif! 

select all your frames in the timeline and change the frame delay (i usually set it to 0.05) and then click this little bugger again: 

then go and select all your layers and then right-click (control + click for mac users) and choose convert to smart object

from there you can sharpen (i used this action) and colour (i used this psd) the gif as you normally would!

which brings us to the end result which looks like this:

export > save for web 

and that’s it! you’re done!

i really hope this helped?? it’s my first tutorial so if you have any questions or need clarification on something please feel free to send me an ask!

[marinaaniseed]

Dark ‘n’ Stormy, Pt. 11

Summary: It’s the day after the stuffing chapter. New Asgard decides which system of government it wants. Not much smut, an awful lot of politics.

Length: 6.9k. A more sensible person than me might try to edit this down, but honestly, I feel like you’d all be horribly disappointed if I didn’t write all the words.

Warnings: Eh the usual. Kinky food stuff, smut, drinking, swearing, mental health wonkiness, Asgardian politics, body shaming, intrusive media, social media shittiness, uncomfortable family relationships, mentions of starting a family, mentions of dead characters, smutty pictures, some ridiculously long speeches that might give you feels. I think that’s it.

Notes: This chapter, quite literally, took months to write. Apologies, therefore, if it’s a bit disjointed or I contradict myself. This bad boy is now over 50k in total (!) It took a while, because I couldn’t quite decide how I wanted it to go. Also, writing a story a day for the entire year is quite time consuming and a really fucking terrible idea. Typos and errors are all my own but please alert me to anything spectacularly bad so I can fix. I’ve not given this any distance, so I am hella word-blind.

Also, one of you gets a mention :P

Need a reminder of what’s happened? Pt. 10 & the masterlist.

If you like what I do, please let me know.

It wasn’t the cockerels crowing that woke you, but the dogs excitedly greeting someone.

“Whuh time issit?” you mumbled into Thor’s hair, your hand resting on his still full tummy as you spooned the sleepy Thunder God.

“Too early.”

He wasn’t wrong. Groggily you pulled yourself away, rummaging around for something to throw on so you could investigate who your visitor was.

Opening the bedroom door, you spied the Valkyrie crouched down by the settee, rubbing Geri’s tummy.

“Why?” you asked, not really awake enough to form a proper question.

“Why what?” Valkyrie responded, continuing to fuss the dog at her feet.

“Why are you here? Now? At this godforsaken time?”

“Has Thor forsaken this time in particular?”

Your glare said it all.

“I jest, sorry. Have you been online? Checked your phone? Seen or heard the news?”

“For fuck’s sake, Brunnhilde,” you said, startling the dogs and finally rousing Thor, “I’ve literally just gotten up. Because of you. When would I have done any of that? And why does it matter?”

“I’ll make the coffee, you go get Thor.”

You’d barely turned and taken a step, when you collided with the solid mass that was your lover.

“What’s wrong? Why is the Valkyrie here?” he asked, holding you to his stomach.

“Not a fucking clue.”

You weren’t exactly a morning person. Even less so after a few cocktails, and when your awakening had been rude. Not the good kind of rude, either. Thor knew, from prior experience, that waking you unexpectedly was like deciding to disturb a wasp’s nest. Nothing good would come of it and it wasn’t something you’d likely repeat in a hurry. You were a surly, venomous grump, sure to sting whatever had disturbed you.

Either Brunnhilde was more foolhardy than he thought, or something was seriously wrong.

Brunnhilde returned to find you slouched on the settee, buried in Thor’s hoodie with the hood pulled up and over, almost to the point of covering your eyes, in a vain attempt at ignoring the world. The steaming mug of caffeine placed on the table next to you was met with a snort of derision, and it was with no small amount of trepidation that Thor sat next to you, before pulling you onto his lap. Maybe whatever had brought the Valkyrie would concern only him, and you could doze off against his chest.

“Did you enjoy your pizza last night?” Brunnhilde asked, breaking the frosty silence.

“Yes,” Thor smiled at the memory. “How did you know we had pizza?”

“That’s what brought me here. I’m sorry it’s so early.”

Why would pizza have brought her here, Thor wondered. Did she need a recipe? Did she have some left over? Was she planning to open a pizza place in New Asgard?

“Someone… someone, erm, they snapped some pictures of you. The two of you. In the restaurant. They must’ve recognised you.”

“So?” Thor queried softly, hoping that you had begun to return to sleep in his arms.

“Well, they sold them to some media people. You’re, erm, trending on Twitter. I wanted to tell you before you saw for yourselves, some of the reporting is… unflattering.”

Yeah. Thor could already picture it. Being fat and in the public eye was just a magnet for the worst kind of people.

“If they’ve worked out who Y/N is, it’s not been published yet, but it’s only a matter of time,” Brunnhilde continued.

“Ah, balls,” you said, finally joining the conversation.

“Indeed. A few months back, I asked some friends to do some digging on you. Don’t be alarmed, I just wanted to be prepared for the time when it eventually emerged that you and Thor were together. I didn’t find anything to be worried about in what they found on you, but I understand that there may be things that you’d prefer to stay private. The silence of those involved can be arranged, if you wish.”

There were certainly things in your past that you weren’t exactly proud of. You probably should’ve realised that you couldn’t stay under the radar forever.

“No, it’s ok. Don’t waste your resources, or those of your friends. I’ve been alive long enough to know that if the tabloid press thinks there’s a story, they’ll dig it up somehow. Or just make one up. I’ve done what I’ve done, and that’s the end of that. Anyone commenting on my life probably has stuff they’d rather keep secret,” you answered with a sigh.

“Very well. Do you want to read the dossier?”

“No, no. I’m sure it’s very thorough and accurate. Thor, do you want to read it?”

“Anything you wish to tell me about your past, you can tell me about yourself,” he answered, running his fingers through your hair. “Whatever you have done, it’s of no consequence. You’re here now, that’s all that matters. Some youthful follies could not reverse my love for you.”

You nuzzled your face into his chest hair to hide the tears you could feel beginning to sting your eyes.

“Is that all, Brunnhilde? May we return to bed?” Thor said.

“Yes, of course. Apologies once again for disturbing you. I just wanted you to hear it from a friend before you heard it elsewhere.”

You were fast asleep again by the time Thor gently laid you back on the bed. You must’ve been warm in his hoodie, the early rays of sunshine beginning to seep into the bedroom, but he didn’t want to disturb you. His mind was all over the place, so he decided to check the news on your tablet while you were tucked into his side.

Thor’s Hammered!

King of Ass-gard

Pizza Gut - Avenger destroys pizza buffet

Thor quickly put the tablet back down. It stung to read the words they wrote about him, but even worse was what they wrote about you. They didn’t know you, why did they get to judge you, speculate about who you were and why you were with him? You were just another name on the long list of loved ones he wasn’t able to protect.

Gingerly removing himself from your side, relieved when he didn’t wake you, Thor decided to sit back on the settee, letting Loki slither over him. The snake wasn’t as helpful as his brother, but he found it calming anyway.

15 minutes later, the sound of a message being received made him jump. Unlocking his old phone, he saw it was a message from Brunnhilde.

I know you said you didn’t want to know about Y/N’s past, but I think you might find this interesting…

There were several links at the bottom of the message. Thor didn’t want to pry, he really didn’t, but he couldn’t help but be curious as to what was that important that Brunnhilde had felt the need to send him a link.

Moving as quietly as he could, he returned to the bedroom to grab the tablet, before settling back down to see what had been sent.

Typing the address was a torturous process, his fingers weren’t quite dexterous enough to easily manipulate Midgardian devices, although he was becoming more careful with them. Still, he nearly dropped the tablet when he saw where the link took him to.

It was a gallery of pictures. Pictures of you, to be exact. You weren’t naked but it was obvious that these weren’t the kind of pictures you shared with friends or family. He’d heard about these kinds of sites, adult sites they were called. The model had a different name, but it was definitely you. No doubt about it.

Pictures of you in corsets that pushed up your breasts and cinched in your waist. Pictures of you with chokers around your throat. Some pictures where you wore clothing made of a strange material that seemed to fit you like a second skin. Some more where you wore beautiful lingerie in vibrant colours, brilliant blues and vivid violets.

The pictures on the next link were a little different. Leather gloves, ball gags, handcuffs. Fishnet stockings and knee-high leather boots. Why had he never seen any of these outfits? Carefully gripping the tablet with one hand, he moved the other inside the waistband of his pants, rubbing at the head of his excited cock.

For a split second, he considered what Brunnhilde had thought of these pictures. Had she shown them to Sif? What if they’d both enjoyed them?

His cock grew harder at the thought.

And he knew he should feel a little ashamed. You hadn’t mentioned these pictures, so it probably wasn’t something you were proud of, but he couldn’t help but look, hope that others had looked, and seen just how sexy you were.

He didn’t really understand the third link. That seemed to be a niche site. You were barely visible, clad in rain gear, and wrapped in heavy duty tape to secure you to a post.

But, Brunnhilde really had saved the best until last.

Bound, gagged, blindfolded. Eyes wide in another as you looked at the woman stroking your hair as you sat tied to the chair. If he had to be king, he’d insist on having a throne, just so he could recreate that image with you. Only, in his version, you’d be wearing a lot less clothes, his face between your thighs, eating you out until the only thing keeping you upright were the ropes that held you in your place.

It was funny. He’d not really enjoyed being in chains, in a cage, when he’d encountered Surtur. But the thought of you being bound, held captive while he pleasured you in all the different ways he knew how. Now, that was something he liked the idea of.

Freeing his cock, he began to stroke in earnest, the images he’d just seen and images of what he’d like to do to you fuelling his desire. The harder he thought of them, the harder he got, and the harder he pumped his fist.

His orgasm was explosive, and Loki hissed at him angrily. Geri and Freki perked up their ears to see what the fuss was about. He knew he should move and clean himself but he was comfy, he was relaxed, he could rest here for a moment or two.

***

Evidently it was more than a moment or two when he awoke to the sound of pans clanging around in the kitchen. There’s no way you couldn’t have seen him, and there’s no way he could pretend it was anything else. He’d fallen asleep with his cock out, the evidence crusted onto his tummy.

Tucking himself back into his pants, he approached the kitchen with caution.

“Good morning, my love,” he tried.

“Good afternoon,” you corrected. “Dare I ask?” you said, looking at his gut pointedly.

Nothing good would come of lying, so he tried his best to explain the truth.

“Ah, well, what happened was, you see, Brunnhilde sent me an electronic letter with some links on my phone. So I looked at them on the tablet,” he explained.

“Brunnhilde sent you porn?”

“Yes. I mean no. I mean maybe? The links were to pictures of you.”

“Ah,” you said, understanding. “Brunnhilde’s friends found those.”

“I suppose so, yes.”

“Well, I’m glad you enjoyed them. I enjoyed doing them.”

Thor doesn’t ask for an explanation, doesn’t press you, doesn’t tell you about his fantasies. You’ll tell him when you want to, if you want to. He’ll tell you when you’re not trying to cook avocado eggs Benedict.

“I’m going to take a shower,” he mumbles before walking off to the bathroom. He’s glad that you’re not angry or upset, but he’s still embarrassed that you caught him in that position.

The shower is cold, but not cold enough to cool him down from his thoughts. Thoughts of those photos, thoughts of last night, and thoughts of what he’d like to do with you in the future. He could probably roll around on Jötunheimr and still feel too hot.

He’s quiet during brunch, but you don’t press him. You just hold his hand, silently telling him that everything will be alright.

You’d briefly checked your phone before Thor had woken up. There were so many notifications, you were afraid it might crash, and you’d put it back down again. Today was an historic day for New Asgard, you didn’t want to overshadow it by worrying about what Twitter trolls had to say about you. It keeps buzzing on the table next to you, and you continue ignoring it.

“Are you going to check that?” Thor asked. “It might be something important.”

“I don’t really want to, I’m afraid of what I might see,” you said.

“I understand, but the longer you leave it, the worse it will be. Maybe just check if there is anything from your family. You don’t want it playing on your mind throughout the day.”

Thor’s right, and so with a resigned sigh, you picked up your phone and looked at your notifications, dismissing anything that wasn’t important.

A message from Sam on Skype that read I knew you had a thing for older men, didn’t realise you liked them THAT old ;-) now I know where you are, let me know when I can visit. Ignore the haters, they’re just jealous.

There was also an entire chain of emails from your mum, without a subject. She’d never quite gotten the hang of email.

Is this you/??>????? And then a link to a news website.

It is, isn’t it.

WHy didn’t you tell us. Where you were????

Your father is looking at flights.

He’s found some cheap ones with Ryanair, we’re coming over in a fortnight. Flying to Oslo. Charlie is coming too.

He can’t find anywhere to stay in New Asgard, are there no hotels????

Answer me.

“Ah, fuck,” you said, staring at down at your phone.

“What’s the matter?” Thor asked, worried that you’d seen something critical of you.

“My family knows where I am now, they’re coming to visit,” you mumbled. “In two weeks.”

“That’s wonderful news, I can’t wait to meet them,” Thor said, kissing your hand.

“Yeah,” you said doubtfully. You loved your family, but they could be tricky at times. They were hurt, of course, by your vagueness on the subject of your whereabouts. You already knew they were going to make some unintentionally hurtful comments, either about Thor, or about Alex, or both. They were also likely to do the same about you.

“Two weeks,” Thor mused, still enthusiastic about the prospect of meeting your family. “I think that gives me sufficient time to build a place for them to stay.”

It was lovely that he was excited by the prospect, but you groaned internally. Something told you that Thor was not going to have time for much if the vote went the way you thought it would.

“I’ll tell them we can accommodate them somewhere,” you said, firing off a quick email. “Now, let’s forget about this and focus on the task at hand. Brunnhilde wanted us there no later than two, that only gives us an hour.”

***

At 2:10 you arrived at the mead hall, Thor in his full regalia, you in the dress he’d gifted you for the May Day feast. Geri and Freki loping along behind you. You went to add the one remaining cake to the long table of food, while Brunnhilde intercepted Thor.

“Is everything alright, after this morning?” she asked him.

“Yes, I think so. Y/N is strong, although her family have elected to visit. That seems to have shaken her,” Thor sighed.

“It must be hard to face someone you thought was dead, even if you love them, once you’ve been through the grieving process,” Brunnhilde noted.

“It is.” Thor knows it’s hard, he went through it enough times with Loki, but he’d do anything to have his brother back. Or his mother, father.

There are flowers everywhere. Bouquets on tables, bunting hanging from the rafters, and people everywhere with flower crowns on their heads. Thor’s pleased with how well they’ve turned out. He makes a note to thank everyone involved, as well as to the plants for blooming so abundantly for him. There was something very satisfying about growing things and tending to them, becoming one with nature.

He’s not surprised when you return with a flower crown, plus one each around the dog’s necks. He doesn’t think they’ll last long, which is why he’d made sure to cultivate flowers that wouldn’t make the dogs sick when they inevitably tried to eat them. Thor particularly likes how you look with your flower crown. He’s seen you wear one before, of course, but they really do suit you. He hopes that if he has to be king, then perhaps one day you’ll wear a different kind of crown.

“Hello, Brunnhilde. Apologies for our lateness. I didn’t grab a crown for you but if Thor doesn’t want this one, I’m sure you can have it,” you offered, holding out the wreath.

“That’s quite alright, I’m not really one for crowns,” Valkyrie answered with a small shake of her head. “I’ll leave you two to mingle, just don’t be late for the vote announcement.”

“We won’t,” Thor assured her, knowing full well that they won’t start without him. “I fear this may not be the only crown I accept today,” he continues, taking the flowers from you and placing them on his head.

“I’m sorry,” you said, pressing a gentle kiss to his lips. “I’ll support you, no matter the outcome.”

Thor knows this, and he’s glad of it. He’s still not comfortable with being in charge, quite content with his life, building things, tending to the plants, and playing with his animals. But at least he doesn’t have to do it alone. After Loki died, he was so very alone. Korg and Miek were great, but there was something missing in his life, a much closer form of companionship that he’d finally found again.

“Let us mingle, I’m sure there are many children who will be glad to pet the dogs,” Thor said, looping his arm with yours at the elbow.

*** By the time it gets to the hour of the announcement, Geri and Freki have had their bellies rubbed by seemingly every child in New Asgard, much to their delight.

A little boy had brought you a small posy of flowers, and was extra pleased when Thor held him in his strong arms and let the child place the flowers in Thor’s beard. It’s very haphazard, and a little one-sided but Thor’s pleased with the end result, when you show him in your pocket mirror.

It makes him ache desperately to have a child - well, children - of his own. He thinks about what kind of uncle Loki would’ve been.

Hopefully he wouldn’t have stabbed them.

It’s too hot in the mead hall. Thor’s been trying to drink slowly, aware that he’s drinking out of nerves more than anything.

Dutch courage, you’d called it. Allegedly, Dutch soldiers had drunk jenever before going into battle. Thor considered that a little risky. Drinking was best done after battle, being clumsy while handling a weapon didn’t strike him as the best strategy. Then again, it seemed to work fine for Brunnhilde. It didn’t really happen to him, but supposed many people got nervous before a fight.

Thor knew you had a Dutch friend, a teacher. He wondered if they might bring jenever with them if they ever came to visit?

Bruce came over, crowds of Asgardians parting easily for his bulky frame.

“Hey buddy,” he said, hugging Thor. “Are you ready?”

“About as ready as I’ll ever be,” Thor answered. A few years ago, he’d thought he was ready. Had almost been crowned king.

He never thanked Loki for royally screwing that up. It was only now, with hindsight, that he could appreciate the favour his brother had inadvertently done him.

“It’s time,” Bruce told Thor, throwing an arm around his shoulders. Thor looks back at you, but you shake your head. This is an Asgardian matter. Your place is at the back with Geri and Freki, not onstage with Asgard’s elite.

“Do you know?” Thor asked Bruce, desperately.

“No Thor. Even if I did, I couldn’t tell you,” Bruce noted. “Whatever happens, you have people that care about you. It won’t be like it was before.”

Thor joins Valkyrie, Sif and several others onstage. Bruce waves his hands, dampening down the crowd that buzzes like a hornet’s nest. Despite all the assurances, this is still a volatile situation and Bruce says a silent prayer that everything works out for the best.

“Thank you all,” Bruce addressed the crowd. “Thank you for trusting in the process and for allowing us, as outside observers, to count all of your votes. No system will be perfect, but we hope that you will all respect the outcome, whatever it may be. It took three rounds of voting for an option to gain over 50% of the vote. I’ll now hand over to Captain America, who has the results.”

Bruce steps down, stands to the right hand side of the stage as Sam steps forward. Anticipation builds around the room, like static during a storm. Sif holds hands with both Thor and Valkyrie, holding in a breath as she waits to see which of the people she cares about most will draw the short straw of heading Asgard.

She fervently hopes that the people will have chosen another option, but she doubts it. Most Asgardians fell on one side of the divide or the other - traditionalists who wanted to continue the existing royal family, and those who felt that Brunnhilde was the best leader amongst those left.

“Thank you, Bruce,” Sam said, grateful that someone the Asgardians were familiar with had addressed them first. “The result is very close, but let me assure you, it is accurate. We counted every single ballot ten times, just to ensure there was no discrepancy. With 50.8% of the vote, the people of Asgard have chosen the option of an octarchy.”

The room erupted with people cheering, complaining, or otherwise chatting with people about what it all meant. Sam waited for the commotion to die down before continuing.”

“Furthermore, the proposed solution, as outlined within the election materials is that Thor, son of Odin.” Sam paused, Thor’s full title sounding odd coming out of his mouth, but that was what the piece of paper he was holding said. “Thor, son of Odin, shall rule as king, and head of state.”

Thor paled visibly and your heart went out to him, glad that Sif was holding his hand.

“Succession will be a matter of blood, as it has always been, unless Thor shall have no issue. In that event, the people of Asgard will once again convene to decide how they wish to be governed. Brunnhilde, of the Valkyrior, shall serve as his second in command. She will rule in his absence or if he is incapacitated, if Thor does not have an heir of legal age.”

Sam shook his head. He shouldn’t have let Bucky write the speech, he should’ve known his metal-armed partner would try to stitch him up with flowery Asgardian language. Out of the corner of his eye, he can see Bucky smirking, standing next to Bruce. Sam makes a mental note to put on his suit later, pick Bucky up, and drop him in the North Sea.

“The other six members of the council will be chosen as follows. Thor, son of Odin, and Brunnhilde, of the Valkyrior, shall each choose one. Two more shall be elected by the people of Asgard. The final two shall be selected at random in a lottery of all citizens who have come of age. These positions shall be reviewed every ten years, unless circumstances, or the will of the people dictate otherwise.”

The place descends into chaos, even the dogs start barking at all the noise, and it only stops when the valkyrie gets to the front of the stage and lets out an ear-piercing screech. Everyone stops what they’re doing and looks at her, wincing.

“Settle down everyone, settle down,” she shouted. “I respect this result, just as I said I would, and I pledge to serve both Asgard and its king to the best of my ability, as long as I am able to do so. I would like to thank you for your trust and patience during the time in which I served as Asgard’s caretaker. I know that not all of you were happy with the situation, but I hope I served you well. There is one among us, who I would like to nominate for inclusion on the council. However, I am aware that some of you may feel it is a conflict of interests. As many of you are aware, the Lady Sif and I are in love. She is my nomination if you will accept her.”

Raucous applause erupts. Sif is well liked, and most people are pleased to have her helping to steer Asgard’s course, even if she’s a little too eager to head into battle at times.

“Very well, I thank you all for your trust,” the valkyrie continued. “While I have the floor, there is one more thing I wish to do. I was going to do it later, but I think now is best, to declare my love in front of all those I serve.”

This time it’s Sif’s turn to go pale, as the Valkyrie sinks to her knees, turning back to Sif.

“Lady Sif,” Brunnhilde began. “I have lived long and travelled far, and there is no beauty that can compare to yours. Your love shines brighter than any star, and I am a better person for you sharing it with me. I have no title or riches to give you. This is but a small trinket, for I have already given you the greatest gift I have to give, which is my heart. I would be honoured if you would accept this ring as a token of my love, as is the custom on much of Midgard, and agree to be my wife.”

Sif is openly sobbing, and Thor’s not sure he’s ever seen her cry before. Scores more around the room wipe away tears as Sif slowly moves forward, allowing the Valkyrie to slip the ring onto her finger. Once it’s in place, Sif takes Brunnhilde’s hands and pulls her up, embracing her tightly and kissing her fiercely to a chorus of cheers.

It’s a wonderful sight, and you’re glad that there’s something for Asgard to celebrate, even if the vote didn’t go everyone’s way. Your throat goes dry as Thor nervously makes his way to the front of the stage to speak.

“Hello everyone. Apologies if I seem nervous, it has been many years since I last addressed so many,” he said, fiddling with the hem of his cloak. It’s far too hot to be wearing it, but he’d insisted that this was an important occasion and that he should dress accordingly.

“My congratulations to the Lady Sif and the Lady Brunnhilde. Theirs is an excellent union, and I wish them an eternity of happiness together.”

Thor waits until the cheering dies down before continuing.

“I, too, respect and honour the results of this vote. No man can outrun his destiny, and it seems mine will always be to rule Asgard as its king, even though I feel ill-equipped to do so. Fate apparently wills it so. I have not led Asgard well these last few years, and I apologise for that from the bottom of my heart. I have been remiss in my duties. I know that some of you do not trust that I have changed, but I give you my solemn word that I have. That I will act for the good of Asgard, and the other eight realms, as long as there is life in my breast.”

The entire room draws a collective gasp as Thor sinks to one knee. Panic sets in. This can’t be happening. Surely he’s not about to propose as well?

“I kneel before you, as your humble servant,” Thor continued, and you sighed in relief. “Too long, the people of Asgard have knelt before the throne. No more. I kneel before you all, and ask for your forgiveness. I am not the man I was, but I hope with time, that I will become someone better, someone worthy of the position that I find myself in.

“Asgard is not a place, it is a people. My father told me that, and I see now how true it is. I thank each and every one of you for trusting and believing in Asgard, in each other, when I did not trust or believe in myself. Together, you have created something strong and beautiful. I thank you for sharing it with me. You have rebuilt, you have shown incredible strength and fortitude.

“I am sorry for abandoning you. It is the most dishonourable and cowardly thing I have ever done. I asked the Valkyrie to rule in my stead, because I felt she was the best person for the job. I am truly sorry for abandoning Asgard in her hour of need. Thank you, all of you. Thank you for preserving our traditions and stories. Thank you for building a new home for us all. Thank you to everyone who has helped today. Baking delicacies, creating flower crowns, playing music. All that you do, on this day and every day, to ensure that we survive, that our culture survives, is appreciated by me.

“I hope to be able to thank you all individually, but please understand, it may take me some time. I kneel before you, as your king, humbled by the faith you still place in me. I shall work to rule as a king of the people, not above them. The throne should not be an untouchable pedestal on which I am put.

“Although I do not have a crown, I kneel before you, ready to serve Asgard, completely and unreservedly.”

“About your crown,” a voice called from the stunned crowd, as all eyes turned to look at Lorelei. She walked slowly through them, people parting for her, before she stopped in front of the stage, directly in front of Thor.

“When Hela attacked, many of us realised that Asgard was in peril. As we fled the city, some of us gathered up important artefacts. I apologise for keeping this from you, your majesty, but there never seemed to be an opportune moment…” she trailed off, reaching into a leather satchel, slung low against her hip.

Several people fainted, as with trembling hands, she pulled a crown from it.

“My-my father’s crown,” Thor mumbled, stunned.

“Yes, your majesty,” Lorelei explained. “I apologise again for keeping it secret, but you had already lost so much, I did not wish to remind you of your father. I have kept it safe, all these years. I believed that one day, you would be restored to the throne. I believed that day would be today.”

With trembling fingers, she reaches out the crown as Thor lowered his head. Tears were running down his face, into his beard, for everyone to see as he sat back up, slowly rising to his feet.

A collective sense of shock reverberated around the room, and you anxiously stroked your two dogs, who sat flanked you on either side.

“Thank you, good Lady Lorelei. This truly is an extraordinary gift. I thought I would never see this again, let alone wear it. I do wonder, now, what else was saved from Asgard, but that is a matter for another time,” Thor advised. “I have but one more matter to discuss, before it is time to feast. There is much to celebrate this day, and I hope it is one that will long be remembered.”

Thor paused, taking a moment to look around the hall. His friends, his people looking up at him. It filled him with a tiny spark of confidence that everything would work out fine this time, unlike when he had told Loki it would, all those years ago, after Asgard was destroyed.

“Like the Lady Brunnhilde, I too have someone I wish to nominate to the council. Like her, this person is one who is very dear to me,” he noted, looking across the heads of everyone to look you in the eye.

Thousands of heads turned to face you as you froze, wishing the ground would swallow you up.

“I wish to nominate the Lady Y/N. She has done so much for Asgard, though her time with us has been short so far,” Thor admitted. “As an outsider, I believe she has much knowledge and wisdom to offer us about Midgard, its people, and their customs. Her counsel is invaluable to me, and I would like to offer her a place at this table, if there are no objections.”

Deathly silence descends, everyone waiting for someone to say something.

“A wise appointment, your majesty,” Leifr spoke up, and a chorus of cheers echoed around the room.

“It is settled then,” Thor exclaimed happily. “The other four positions shall be determined in due time, but now I say it is time to eat, drink, and dance our fill. There is much to celebrate as we enter into a proud new chapter in Asgard’s history.”

Everything was a blur for several hours as you try to process exactly what’s happened. Thor being king again was something you expected, and he seems to be taking it well. His speech was genuinely moving and you could see many Asgardians visibly softening to him as he spoke.

But appointing you to be one of Asgard’s eight rulers?

No. No no no. This could not be happening. You didn’t belong here, didn’t want that kind of responsibility.

Judging by the way people keep congratulating you, it definitely is happening. You barely have an appetite, pushing your food around, eating small amounts whenever Thor prompts you to try this dish or that.

It had been a productive few hours for the other three newly instated rulers. Between them, they’d managed to hash out a plan for getting the other council members appointed. They’d even found time to draft a press release with Pepper, covering the events of the day. The world media would be taken aback. New Asgard had never released any information before. Along with the details of the election, Pepper had made sure to note that the new rulers would be willing to engage with journalists going forward to ensure transparency about what the kingdom was doing, but that they would not interact with any outlet that did not respect Asgardian privacy or engaged in hurtful gossip about them.

Apparently, the prince of another country, and his wife, had done something similar a few years prior.

You sit completely zoned out, a zombie. Utterly alone while surrounded by people. Geri and Freki lie protectively at your feet, aware that something is wrong.

Even Thor can sense that something is amiss. You’re paying no attention to him eating increasingly absurd portions. He even mentioned that he was getting full and you just nodded politely, a slightly vacant smile plastered to your face. You didn’t even try to touch his stomach, where it sat pressed up against the table.

Eventually, Sam manages to make his way over, whispering in Thor’s ear. You’re dimly aware that they’re talking about you, by the way Thor keeps glancing nervously in your direction.

“Let us go for a walk,” he said, standing up and tugging at your elbow. “Young Sam said that you look like you could do with some fresh air.”

Moving on autopilot you follow him, Geri and Freki loping along behind you. He leads you down to the beach, the sun setting in the distance as Thor gently maneuvers you into sitting down on a driftwood log.

“Are you quite alright?” Thor asked, running his fingers up your bare arms as he crouched awkwardly in front of you. “You seem distant, distracted.”

“This is all just very overwhelming,” you said, looking at your hands where they rested in your lap.

“I agree, much has happened today. We can return home, if you wish?”

“Why did you appoint me to the council?” you whispered, voice shaking. “I don’t know if I’ll still be here in ten years. What if we split up? I don’t belong here, I’m not Asgardian. I don’t want this responsibility, I’m not qualified, I don’t want to do this.”

Thor’s heart sank and he let out a sad sigh, finally sitting on the soft sand, his hefty stomach making it hard to keep his balance while he crouched. He’d done it again. He’d thought only of what he wanted and hadn’t consulted you. He’d upset you, ruining your evening.

“I’m so sorry,” he said, tipping your chin up to make you look at him. “That was thoughtless and selfish of me, I should have consulted you before announcing my plan. Today has been trying for you, and you were already anxious and upset. I’m truly sorry for burdening you further.”

“I know you didn’t mean to Thor, but I’m so scared and sad.”

“Oh my love, no. I really am such an oaf,” Thor said sadly, pulling you into the small amount of lap he had left. If he kept on like this, he was going to really struggle to hold you like this soon.

He wants to kiss your lips, to kiss away all the hurt and worry he sees in your eyes, to kiss it better like his mother used to kiss his and Loki's scrapes and grazes. But he lets you bury your face in his shoulder. All he can do is cuddle you while you cry, chest heaving against his, while he rubs little circles onto your back, mumbling apologies all the while.

“I’m so sorry. I never meant to upset you, to make you scared or anxious. I can see that I was mistaken, even though I only meant it as a good thing, as a compliment to your character and your intelligence. I truly know of no other in the whole of Asgard more capable than you, not even Brunnhilde,” Thor explained. “You are wise for one so young, and far more learned than any of us when it comes to this land we find ourselves in. Please, allow me to apologise unreservedly for the hurt I’ve caused. Allow me to make it right, allow me to pick another to serve in your place.”

You're so silent, shaking in his arms. It hurts Thor in a way he’s not felt since his father banished him. What if he's finally gone too far? What if this is the thing that pushes you away from him?

It scares him more than the thought of Thanos returning once more.

“A trial,” you said softly, as you raise your head.

“Pardon?” Thor asked.

“Until the end of the year, I will serve for a trial period. But if at the end of that time, I still don’t want to do it, then you must replace me, without any reservations.”

“Of course, of course. Are you absolutely sure?”

“No,” you admit. “But I am willing to try. I trust you. I trust you not to force me into anything I can’t handle. I’m humbled that you and your people have accepted me, and are prepared to give me this chance. I know it’s a great honour. So I will try to repay that trust that you have, I will try to serve Asgard, even if it doesn’t come easily to me.”

“No one who seeks power or has it come easily to them should ever be allowed to wield it,” Thor noted, rubbing his nose against yours. “Thank you, my love for agreeing to try this. I will honour your request should you change your mind at any point. I admit, I was scared that I had lost you, that my foolishness had driven you away.”

“You’ll have to do more than that to get rid of me,” you laughed wetly, wiping your face on the back of your hand.

“That’s good news, although I hope never to test that theory,” Thor told you, relieved. “Do you wish to return to the hall? I’m sure you could persuade me to have some more wine and sweet treats. As you can see, I am not quite at capacity,” Thor teased, moving your hands under his tunic to touch his taut tummy.

“I think I would like to head home. I’m emotionally exhausted and I just want to faceplant into your tummy and go to sleep.”

“Also an excellent plan,” Thor admitted, standing up with your still in his arms.

“I’m not too tired to walk,” you tried to insist, looking down at your bemused dogs as they trailed alongside the gentle giant carrying you.

“I know that, I just wanted to hold onto you some more.”

Thor’s going to be extra affectionate for the next little while, still reeling from the feeling of almost losing you. Now he finally has something to lose again, he’s resolutely determined not to let it happen.

@innerpaperexpertcloud @morganhoran1671

[rebeccalartfoundation]

Textiles 3- Studio work: Disperse dye and Macramé. Homework - Boro/Sashiko

Disperse dyes and heat press 

Happy to be back in the studio, we began by being shown how to use the heat press machine and using disperse dye for printing.

To transfer a print onto fabric using the heat press:

- Paint a design on cartridge paper using disperse dye. It has a similar consistency to ink and can be diluted to vary degrees for tonal range. It can also be mixed together to create colours.

-Make sure that the design on paper is completely dry. We used a hair dryer to speed up the process. 

-Using the heat press: Sandwich the design and fabric to print between greaseproof paper. Place the design face down onto the fabric or you can place the design first and fabric on top. We used a polycotton for the fabric.

-Make sure the heatpress is hot enough and clamp in place with the lever. Wait for the countdown to finish (usually 30 secs) before releasing. 

-Slide or peel the print away from the machine to reveal print. The design will be printed in reverse. (Health and safety- Heat press is hot, take care and do not leave unattended). 

Example of fabric printed with heat press.

Heat Press experiments

Print 1 - based using a spider plant leaf as a stencil and painted around it. I then used dye transfer paper on top, which I ripped into similar shapes and layered on top.

Print 2- is of lavender painted with a brush. I mixed colours for the purple and placed ripped dye paper on top. The paper came out darker than expected as I thought it would be a pale blue/purple colour.

Print 1- Experimenting with mark making and diluted the disperse a bit for freeflowing marks. 

Print 2- Based on spider plant leaves in studio, replicating veins of plants with different colours.

Print 3- My first ever print with heat press. Using colour and petal from St John’s Wort. 

Print to use left over ink- Exploring more mark marking. Paint brush used and twig used for black marks. 

Print 1- First print experimenting with dye paper and some scrunched to see how texture would be print on fabric. Some pieces are cut and others ripped.

Print 2- Exploring mark marking with layered dye transfer paper. It reminds me of vintage shirts. I like it!

Print 1- Print based on St John’s Wort plant as a repeat print. Painted with paintbrush.

Print 2- More marking and layered dye transfer paper. For some reason it came out quite light, I believe I might’ve placed the paper the wrong way round (Dye colour facing up instead on the fabric, which resulted in lighter colour). 

Print 1- Printing on a fabric found from stash in studio. I believe its a cotton. I wanted to see how the dye paper would come out on a coloured background.

Print 2- Loose painting of St John’s Wort. 

Print 1- First test with dye transfer paper. Ripped up paper. Some string got caught while in the heat press and created an interesting stencil.

Print 2- Another unexpected print. I think I placed the blue paper upside down again. Used wood material (possibly used for basket weaving??) on top of dye paper and string. The wood ending up getting partially dyed (dark bit) instead of leaving a white stencil like the string.

Print 1- Print using a twig, (dipped in ink and drawn like a pen). Representing blossoms on branch.

Print 2- First print using spider leaf plant as a stencil. Only painted around it instead of using the leaf in the heat press. 

Print 1- Using spider plant leaf again as a stencil and painted around it with yellow and red. Blended the colours together. 

Print 2- Dye paper and print with mark making use with brush. This was printed on a thinner polycotton. 

Reflection for heat press experiments

It was a lot of fun printing using the heatpress and disperse dye. I had wanted to try translate painterly and illustrative mark onto fabric and this was a great way of producing samples for it. I had some issues using real plant leaves as a stencil as it did not leave a clear impression. Perhaps next time I could put the plant in the heat press machine with dye paper for a better print, similar to what Emma had done. 

Some prints I did not like, for example the St John Wort prints when I tried painting the plant semi figuratively- I thought it would be more interesting to either create abstract prints of the plant or a stylized or figurative version. Some of the mark making did not go so well on the first try, particularly using the twig. I tried to make an impression with it but was better to draw with it like a pen. 

Some prints I was really happy with include the markmaking with layered dye paper (that reminds me of a vintage shirt), the lavender illustration, the stencil of the leaves with purple and blue dye paper and the colourful lines that represent the veins of the spiderplant leaves. I was also intrigued by the print where the wooden material and string had printed, which created an interesting x-ray like effect.

Overall I was really happy with how most of my prints came out and experimented with different materials and style of painting. Sometimes it came out with unexpected results but I like the element of surprise of how it would print on fabric. For example, I hadn’t expected the disperse dye to come out so vividly (they look darker on the palette) and mixing purple for the lavender came out darker when I thought it would be brighter. I really enjoyed using the heat press and disperse dye and plan to make more samples for our final lesson.

Macramé 

For part of the session we were shown how to do Macramé.  Macramé is a type of textile that using knotting techniques to create products. It has been used in fashion, homeware and in sculpture.  

Sketchbook notes on Macramé and used in different ways.

My macramé practice.

Jill showed us how to do two different types of knotting-  A vertical lark head and a half hitch spiral. I really struggled to get the vertical lark head knot right and had to been shown a few times! I did another one in blue by myself as more practice. I found the half hitch spiral a lot easier to do and was pretty cool seeing the spiral form. It also reminds me when we did these in secondary school. Once I got the hang of it I found macramé to be quite relaxing and could be interesting to explore it more. Perhaps with fabric or creating a sculpture with it on a large scale like Judy Tadman’s rope sculpture. 

Boro/ Sashiko 

L-R: Traditional red Boro Tunic, Josh Blackwell Street Bags- using sashiko stitching on a plastic bag, detail photo of Boro by Jennifer Corkish, Jeans using Boro technique, detail photo of Boro by Helen Terry.

We also learnt about Boro and Sashiko. Boro is a technique that repurposes saved garment pieces and other handspun indigo fabrics. It is sewn together as a patchwork and built in layers for warmth. This art was born out of necessity in northern Japan where peasants made them during the Edo period. (1603-1863).

Sashiko is a style of stitching that commonly accompanies Boro. The stitching can be complex and create different shapes or simple with straight and long running stitches.

Homework

For homework we were tasked to create some Boro/Sashiko samples.

This sample features fabric from an old cushion, tshirt and lace from a bra. I liked the circular design and wanted to try replicate that with stitching. I found it  a bit hard getting the length of stitching similar but this was due to not giving myself enough time. 

The second sample features fabric from old tops and pj bottoms. I wanted to try different types of stitch, so did a cross stitch. The intention was to have cross stitch all around the plaid material but again did not have enough time. I also wanted to challenge myself and had create a pocket and stitched that into place with diagonal stitch. 

The last sample was actually the first one I created and struggled with the most. I had wanted to try create pleats but the tension is uneven throughout. As I was sewing in a rush, I had also caught the wrong side with my stitching and was unable to undo it without unpicking everything. The piece came out a bit crumpled and doesn’t lie flat but was a good learning curve. 

Session reflection

Overall I really enjoyed today’s session and to be back in the studio! I loved using the heat press machine and disperse dye to create painterly prints on fabric. It was also fun to use dye paper in a collage way by layering and ripping to see how that would print on fabric. I explored a lot of mark making and used natural materials of leaves and twigs for stencils and mark making. I struggled a little bit with the macramé but once I got it I found it quite enjoyable and think it could be really interesting to use in a sculpture. I found the boro/sashiko stitching the most difficult, making due to not giving myself enough time to stitch. I’ve definitely learnt that with sewing you have to take your time or end up with a poor product/ losing time to mend mistakes. 

Going forward for our final lesson, I’d like to use the heatpress again and see if its possible to use the freehand embroidery machine. It would be great to create a sample with the combination as I’ve been inspired by Veronica Cay’s work ‘I hesitate’  (research towards end in a previous post) . I would like to create something similar but with my concepts of plants and mental health in mind and will try achieve that for the last lesson in the studio.

[yellowcanna]

Two Sides, Same Coin

Summary: Since the beginning of Quirks, Yokohama has announced independence from Japan and closed itself from the rest of the world.

To this day and age, no one knows what lies within the city of Yokohama—or that was what the public was made to believe. In reality, Yokohama has long fallen into the control of the world’s largest criminal organization known as the Port Mafia.

Follow Class 1-A as their principal organized a field trip to Yokohama! In their short trip there, they must change their perspectives and learn exactly what it means to be justice and what it means to be villains.

Rating: T

Genre: Crossover, hint of shounen-ai (boy love)

Pairing: Contains mild Soukoku (Dazai x Chuuya) and Shin Soukoku (Akutagawa x Atsushi) if you squint

Author: Canna / Yellow Canna

Available on AO3!!

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CHAPTER 14

STRAYS (NIGHT 3: TUESDAY)

This story has been beta'd by Momentary_Flight, Nanami_ontheShore, Shady Spades

Dazai sat comfortably in his seat as he looked towards the stage, his eye meeting a pair of sky blue ones. Bathed within the red light, nobody noticed the faint trail of a crimson glow slowly disappearing from the singer’s body.

Chuuya was smiling at the crowds and even talked to some of the audience that ran too close to the stage despite the line of waiters holding them back. Somewhere in the back, someone even threw him a can of beer, which he caught with ease before waving in that direction.

The man down there was like a star shining brilliantly in the night sky.

Yet only Dazai knew that, right now, every movement Chuuya made was carefully calculated. No matter how he stood or where he was seemingly looking towards, he made sure that Dazai was well within his sight. Despite how relaxed he may look, there was no question that the Executive would spring into action the second danger towards his boss was detected.

Chuuya walked off the stage, tossing the microphone to Tachihara who took his place.

The music picked up again, pulling the crowd's attention away from Chuuya as the redhead made his way back into the VIP section.

As soon as Chuuya returned, Dazai dismissed the guards around him, leaving the space for only the two of them.

The brunet patted his knees, but the redhead stopped right in front of him with his arms crossed.

“What’s wrong, Chuuya?” Dazai blinked his large, chocolate brown eye at his lover expectantly. “You were so docile before!”

“You want to see how docile I am?” Chuuya gritted, cracking his knuckles to loosen his joints.

“You never know who might be watching, we need to keep the act up!”

“There’s no one watching,” Chuuya retorted.

“They could from that giant hole in the wall.”

“You mean that?” Chuuya huffed proudly as he gestured towards the wall he had thrown the League of Villains through. The hole was already filled up by broken pieces of bricks, smashed together and squeezed into the hole until not even the smallest gap could be found.

“Uwaah…” Dazai made a disgusted face. “I bet interior designers all over the world are crying in joy that Chuuya didn’t become a construction worker.”

“Hah?!” Chuuya felt a vein on his forehead throb. It was a miracle his veins haven't popped yet. "I'd like to see you do better, you shitty—mmh!”

While the Executive was distracted, Dazai reached up, a nimble finger hooking onto the silver ring on the redhead’s choker, and pulled him down. Chuuya stumbled as he fell over Dazai, but he swiftly put a knee between his boss’s legs and a hand on each side of the brunet’s head to stop them from colliding.

Chuuya moaned into a pair of lips that smothered against his, with a wet tongue slipping into his mouth without any warning. Rough, calloused hands caressed his hips before they slipped under his tank top to feel his abs.

The redhead shivered at the touch before pulling away.

Dazai didn’t stop him. He just sighed in disappointment and licked his lips that were moist from the shorter man’s saliva.

“You know, Chuuya.” He looked up to the redhead who was fixing his clothes despite how it didn’t matter since they were in a club and the other wasn’t in his usual suit. “Maybe I should demote you and have you become my personal dog. That way, I can have you on my lap day and night.”

“I would like to ask the boss to please reconsider, as the Port Mafia cannot afford to lose a valuable asset such as Chuuya-sama.”

The boss and his right-hand man turned to see an elderly man making his way up the stairs.

“Ah, Hirotsu-san,” Dazai greeted cheerfully, “did you enjoy your vacation?”

“It was quite eventful.” Hirotsu bowed to his boss before turning to Chuuya. “Your performance tonight was spectacular, Chuuya-sama.”

"At least someone appreciates my effort," Chuuya moved to stand by his boss's side. 

“Well then, tell me about your reports, Hirotsu,” the Port Mafia boss said as he got comfortable in his chair.

Hirotsu reached into his coat and pulled out a large yellow envelope. Chuuya stepped forward to take it before passing it to his boss.

The first thing the two of them saw when Dazai pulled out the papers was the picture stapled on the first page. She was a young girl about the age of six or seven with bluish silver hair, crimson eyes, and a horn on the right side of her forehead.

“I have confirmed that the Shie Hassaikai is indeed creating a drug capable of destroying Quirks. The drug is created using the flesh of Chisaki Kai’s adoptive daughter, Eri.”

“Flesh?” Chuuya raised a brow. “So it’s a Quirk?”

“Yes. The girl’s Quirk is to rewind the time of living beings.”

"Which means with proper adjustments her Quirk can directly attack the virus within the host's bloodstream and completely erase the virus from the body without damaging the body itself," Dazai hummed as he flipped through the documents.

“It is quite similar to the vaccine first created when Quirk began to appear,” Hirotsu nodded.

“But now, those vaccines will only kill them,” Chuuya pointed out. “Since the second generation, the bodies of those outsiders started to merge with the virus and now it is part of their genetics. There's no way of reversing that process without killing them.”

“Yet this girl can rewind the time of the genetic structure of the body to separate the virus without taking their life.” Dazai smiled before his eye snapped to Hirotsu. “How far along is the development of this drug?”

“I would say at eighty percent," Hirotsu replied. “The current drug created by Shie Hassaikai can only temporarily remove a host’s Quirk for six to seven hours.”

“And?” Dazai tossed the documents onto the table. “Surely you’ve brought me the finished product.”

Hirotsu bowed before setting a black briefcase onto the table. He unlocked the case with a finger scanner then swiftly keyed in the passwords.

The case unlocked with a light click.

Spinning the briefcase around, Hirotsu laid it down and opened it to reveal five syringes. Each syringe was within a vacuum-sealed bag and filled with crimson fluid.

“During my infiltration, I had taken some of the incomplete drugs as well as some samples from the girl and brought it to the laboratory yesterday evening. These are the completed versions that the lab has created.”

“So they only needed one day to finish what Shie Hassaikai had been trying for years,” Chuuya snorted. Organized crime in the outside world is getting worse and worse as the years go by. It was also stupid of the Shie Hassaikai to sell the drug when it was still incomplete. Did they think they wouldn't catch unwanted attention? Or were they that confident in thinking they were the only ones capable of creating the drug just because they had the material?

Dazai reached forward and took out one of the syringes. He squinted his eyes to get a closer look at the drug inside. While the colour was the same as blood, the density was closer to water’s.

“Have these been tested on Ability users?”

"No," Hirotsu replied. “According to the head scientist, this drug only targets the body's DNA which the viruses reside in.”

“That I’m sure.” The brunet agreed as he put the syringe back into the case. “But nevertheless, we can never be too careful. Give these to Ryuunosuke-kun and have him test it out on Ability users. If by some miracle it does have the power to destroy Ability…”

Dazai’s eye narrowed, losing the warm light it held before and took a colder, crueler quality.

“Kill the girl and burn the Shie Hassaikai to the ground.”

“Yes, boss.” Hirotsu bowed. Recognizing his boss’s dismissal, he took his briefcase and headed off to complete the first task he was assigned since returning to work.

Chuuya watched Hirotsu leave before looking over to Dazai who was lazily flipping through the documents scattered on the table while humming a light tune.

“You seem pretty happy,” the redhead noted.

“Can you blame me?” Dazai grinned at his right-hand man. “It’s been a while since someone dared to blatantly scheme in front of me like that, especially when the schemer is as easy to read as an open book. I can’t help but play along~”

“Play along?” Chuuya narrowed his eyes, not believing a single word that came out of his boss’s mouth. “You mean manipulating them to play along with your shit? And don’t fucking tell me that making me sing on stage every Tuesday for the past three months was just for this!”

“How could you accuse me of that, Chuuya!” Dazai gasped with his hands flying over his heart. “I truly enjoyed watching you sing every night. Chuuya’s like a shining star on stage!”

Another vein popped out from Chuuya’s forehead. As much as he wanted to slam his fist into this man’s gut right here and now, he knew he couldn’t. They were in public, they had an image to keep up.

“So? What’s with those kids?” Chuuya snapped, changing the subject.

“Chuuya, even if they have eighth-grader syndrome with dreams of destroying the world, calling them kids is a bit—”

“I’m talking about those Hero kids,” Chuuya corrected. “The ones from U.A. You purposely led them here at this time and knew I would have no choice but to let them out the backdoor.”

“I did promise their principal to show them around Yokohama," Dazai smirked. “What kind of guide would I be if I didn’t let them enjoy Yokohama to the fullest?”

Chuuya snorted at the poor excuse. He didn’t care that Dazai didn't answer his question, as he already has a clue as to what that was about. After all, that person was doing his mission nearby. Although the chances of them accidentally running into one another were slim, if a certain scheming bastard manipulated this…

◤━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━◥

Seven Months Ago—Port Mafia Headquarters

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  BOOOOOOOOOOM

The sounds of explosions resonated through the air, shaking the entire building as dark smoke stretched towards the night sky.

“Fire! Shoot it down!”  

“The barrier’s been damaged!”

“What are they doing?! Why isn’t the barrier restored yet?!”

“The system’s been jammed! We can’t operate it!”

"Another one's coming!"

"GET DOWN!!"

Within the darkness, a missile flew down from the sky, slicing through the wind as it aimed towards one of the five Port Mafia buildings. The missile slipped through the hole in the barrier the first missile had created, slamming into the side of the building as crimson flames erupted, followed by the sound of explosion.

Alarms echoed across the halls as sprinklers were immediately activated to put out the flames.

Men and women ran towards where the explosion had occurred to help put out the fire.

A man cloaked in black rushed down the hallway, his body almost becoming a blur as he flew down the stairs and arrived at the floors that had suffered the most from the explosion.

“Senpai!” a blond-haired woman gasped as she did her best to catch up to her superior. “Senpai! It’s too dangerous, please head back!” she shouted after him, but the man did not listen to her words.

The explosion had annihilated the hallways of three floors, but that wasn’t important at all. What’s important was the room at the end of the middle hallway.

He ran into the fire, one hand holding a cloth over his nose and mouth to protect his lungs from the heavy smoke. When he arrived at the room, his eyes flew wide at the metallic door that had been completely blasted off its hinge, distorted and leaning against the corner.

His cloak fluttered around him as he walked into the room. Silver eyes narrowed as he surveyed his surroundings. Aside from one side of the wall completely blasted away by the explosion, the remainder of the room was pretty much undamaged.

The man looked over to the bed, then to the collection of large stuffed animal toys. Activating his Ability, black tendrils shot out of his coat, stabbing into the bed, toys, and closets—tearing everything apart.

The blond woman finally caught up, panting heavily as she walked into the room. She wasn’t given the time to take in what the room looked like before her eyes shifted to the missing wall where the outside world was visible to her eyes.

“Senpai!” She cried as the man whirled around, looking up to the sky where a giant whale was swimming beneath the sea of stars.

They were only able to see the barrier around the headquarters materialize for a split second before multiple explosions blasted over the surface of the barrier. For a minute straight, the barrier was engulfed in flames, casting crimson light upon those inside the building.

Everyone shielded their eyes as the barrier protected the building from being touched by the scorching flames. When the flames finally disappeared, all that was left was the crumbling pieces of the barrier. When the raven-haired man looked back up to the sky, the whale was gone.

“So this was what they were after.” The man gritted his teeth as he stormed out of the room, stepping over a framed TV in the process, completely shattering the screen under the pressure of his foot. “Higuchi, send out an order. They couldn’t have gotten far with Q. Send out all men to find Q and kill them on sight.”

“Yes!” The woman hurriedly did as she was told. She tapped onto the Bluetooth in her right ear and commanded, “Abandon all battle stations! Q has been captured by the Guild! All personnel are to find Q and kill on sight!!”

From another building identical to the one that had suffered from the bombing, a man in a black suit and a red scarf stared at the bright flames lighting up the night.

“Boss, please step away from the window! The barrier is gone, it’s dangerous!” the men around him fretted, but the brunet just waved them off.

“It’s fine. They can’t see anything from the outside.”

“But—” The men looked like they wanted to argue, but a sharp glare from their boss silenced them as they remembered their place.

“Boss.”

“Ah, ane-san.” Dazai smiled when he saw Kouyou speed walking over to him. The men surrounding him backed away, making room for their Executive.

“Where’s Chuuya?” She furrowed her brows, instantly noticing the lack of a petite redhead. Ever since Chuuya had become Dazai’s right-hand man, the two were barely ever seen being apart.

“Chuuya is checking on the barrier," Dazai replied. “Do you need something, ane-san?”

"The Guild has Q," Kouyou informed her boss with a grave look on her face. “Please follow me into the safe room until the situation is dealt with.”

“Ah-ah~” Dazai sighed, but obediently followed Kouyou down the hall with men surrounding the two as protection. “I leave the headquarters’ defense to Ryuunosuke-kun and this is the result. Looks like he’ll need some more discipline once the Guild’s been dealt with.”

“The missiles accurately targeted the room Q was confined in,” Kouyou frowned, not as easy going as her boss. “I’m afraid we may have a traitor amongst us.”

“Hm…” Dazai hummed, “There’s no need to worry, ane-san. I’m sure everything will work out.”

Kouyou glanced over her shoulder to her boss. Questions were swirling in her eyes, but the Executive kept her silence and continued leading the way. 

It was only after they began descending the spiral of stairs that she spoke again.

"The Guild has crossed the line by directly attacking us," Kouyou said as they arrived at the lowest floor. She waved off the men around them and led Dazai down a long hallway. “Do you still refuse to let us step in?”

“I told you, ane-san. Taking down the Guild is Atsushi-kun and Ryuunosuke-kun’s job,” Dazai said, stopping in front of a door. The two guards standing by the door bowed at his presence as Dazai’s fingers danced swiftly across the number pad.

After scanning his palm, the doors opened, one layer after another. The moment Dazai stepped inside, the doors slammed shut, clicking sounds echoing in the air as the locks were being put back into place.

Dazai strolled into the simple underground chamber. The most elaborate thing here was the bed and chandelier. He leaned over a handrail, humming as he gazed up at the chandelier hanging directly above his large bed. He should find some time to replace that obnoxious thing.

Dazai blinked, seeming slightly surprised before he stifled a small laugh.

“Four years ago, the first thing that would have come across my mind would be how perfect it is for hanging.” Dazai snorted at his own change as he walked to his bed and plopped onto the king-size mattress. Or perhaps he could sabotage the chandelier and have it fall on him while having a peaceful sleep.

“If you want to die that badly, I can come and finish you off,” a sarcastic voice came from the black Bluetooth in the Port Mafia boss’s ear. “How does the curb sound to you, shitty boss?”

“And leave Chuuya to become a widow?” Dazai smirked as he folded his hands behind his head. “I trust that you haven’t been caught?”

“Who the hell do you think I am?”

In the other building, a short man in a black suit and fedora kicked down the iron door. He emerged from his hiding spot with his hands tucked in his pockets. Despite the entire place being charred and dusty, there wasn’t a speck of dirt on his body.

“As if I’d get caught by that apprentice of yours,” Nahakara Chuuya snorted as he walked into the room that looked as if a beast had been rampaging in it. Everything that could hide a person had been violently torn apart and thrown onto the ground.

“Looks like I wasn’t needed,” he said, kicking away a small piece of cement by his feet. “But to think those bastards broke through the walls with just two missiles…!”

Chuuya clicked his teeth. Even if this was planned by Dazai, he didn’t like it one bit. The outer layer of the building was specially made to withstand at least sixty consecutive missiles! And for the protection barrier around the headquarters to be so easily blasted apart was another issue.

“It’s not surprising that their weapons are more advanced than ours. They don’t have a city like Yokohama to protect them in America, so the developments of their technologies are solely focused on weapons,” Dazai hummed, “Though they were still discovered and hunted for human experimentation.”

Chuuya frowned at that. He has heard of too many similar stories in the outside world.

Despite the seemingly peaceful relationship they have with Japan, the rest of the world treated Old Humans very differently. For one, the knowledge of Old Humans isn’t known to the whole world. Their existence had always been top secret in Japan and kept from the rest of the world. It’s only in the last century that it was no longer a state secret.

As society became more and more stable, there were always curious eyes turned towards the mysterious city. So occasionally, Yokohama would invite a selected few inside, allowing only one to walk back out and deliver information.

This was the only way to get those nosy governments to get rid of any weird ideas about Yokohama—like reclaiming it for example. By showing Yokohama as a threat, the Japanese government wouldn’t move recklessly, especially when they still have the issue of Villains. They couldn’t afford to create another enemy, and as long as they are left alone, Yokohama has no intention of waging war against them.

Unfortunately, the same cannot be said for other countries. Without a base to protect them, once discovered, Old Humans will easily be captured. Abilities are extremely rare and even if they were powerful, they cannot fight while protecting a whole community.

“If that’s the case, then won’t they blast the entire city to the ground?”

“They won’t,” Dazai replied with certainty, “Even if their technology in weaponry is a tad higher than ours, Fitzgerald isn’t stupid enough to think we won’t have a countermeasure against large scale attacks. And even if he is, he knows he won’t find what he’s looking for if the entire city is gone.”

Chuuya walked over to the open wall. He leaned forward, poking his head out a little so he could see the state of things below. Blue eyes sharply trailed over each man and their positions before the redhead leaned back and glanced to a torn blanket lying on the ground not far away.

“So who were the ones that took Q?” Dazai asked cheerfully. Chuuya was sure the other knew already, but responded anyway.

“It’s the two that engaged with that other apprentice of yours,” Chuuya said as he took out a small booklet from his pocket and flipped through the pages. “John Steinbeck and Howard Phillips Lovecraft. So far, we still can’t figure out what Ability the second guy has.”

“Then perhaps it’s not an Ability at all.”

“You mean he’s a Quirk user?” Chuuya didn’t believe it. After all, if that man was a Quirk user, he wouldn’t have slipped through the barrier.

“It doesn’t matter.” The redhead could hear the smirk behind his boss’s lips. “After tonight, they won’t be relevant.”

Chuuya didn’t ask what that meant as he picked up the cotton blanket and headed back towards the edge. Crimson light coated his body as Chuuya activated his Ability. With a stomp of his feet, the floor beneath his feet caved in. Chuuya threw the blanket around his body as he fell towards the ground.

The sight of the baby blue blanket falling attracted the attention of the men stationed nearby. They raised their guns and circled the blanket that had a bulge in the middle. One of the men stepped forward, gripping the corner of the blanket and ripping it away only to find that it was a piece of concrete.

To be sure, the men searched around the area. After making sure there wasn't anything suspicious, they returned to their posts.

Perched on a nearby tree, a certain Executive watched the sight with narrowed eyes.

“Bunch of morons. I’ll deal with them after this is over,” he muttered darkly before he turned and darted off. He easily made it across the street, undetected by the Port Mafia underlings that were on watch.

The more of them he successfully evaded, the more the redhead felt his blood boil. It seemed their training had been too lax. He'll need to have a long talk with Kouyou about creating a new program after this entire mess got cleaned up.

He reached into his pocket and pulled out his phone. With a quick scan of his fingerprint, the phone lit up with a map on the screen. Chuuya stared at the blinking red dot that was rapidly approaching. He looked towards that direction just in time to catch a blur of white darting across the street before it was gone.

“Dazai.”

“Yes, love?” Dazai’s voice whispered gently into his ear.

“If this plan of yours doesn’t work, I will kill Q.”

“Of course.”

◤━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━◥

Present

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 “Who are you?” the child asked as mismatched eyes looked at the group of twenty people standing there.

They were all stunned at the sight of such a young girl—or perhaps a boy? Either way, this didn’t seem to be a place where they would find a child.

They automatically looked around, hoping to find the kid’s parents, but couldn’t see another soul in sight.

“We’re just some people who are a bit lost,” Uraraka laughed as she crouched down to get to the child’s height. “What about you? Where’s your mom and dad?”

“Mom and dad?” the child hummed, needing to take some time to think over that question before smiling back at them. “I don’t have one.”

“E-eh?” Uraraka’s jaw dropped. This was an answer neither she nor her classmates had expected. She frantically waved her hands as guilt consumed her. “I’m so sorry! I-I had no idea!”

"Sorry?" the child tested the word as if it was something foreign to them. "Why?"

Uraraka blinked as her hands stopped in midair.

Why? Why what?

However, she couldn’t ask that, as she had already stepped on a landmine. Fortunately, Asui came up to save her.

“Do you have anyone looking after you?” she questioned with a finger to her lips.

“I do!” the child chirped brightly, but then saddened as they slowly swung their legs back and forth. “But I got lost…”

“Do you know their phone number?” Iida asked, already pulling out his phone, “I’ll call them for you.”

“I don’t know...” the child replied, looking unconcerned over not remembering their guardian’s contact number. “But it’s fine! He’ll find me. He always does!”

Everyone exchanged looks. They were all skeptical about this. During their way to the bar, the latter half of their trip was void of any people. No matter how they looked at it, this area was filled with factories and warehouses. Why in the world was there a child so young here all alone in the middle of the night?

Didn’t anyone know how dangerous it was?

"Maybe his dad brought him to the bar or something and forgot about him," Mineta whispered, only to be stabbed in the eyeball by an earphone jack.

"Let's wait around for a bit," Midoriya suggested. “Maybe his guardian is looking around for him.”

"Ah…there goes our curfew time," Kaminari whined jokingly. He understood that finding this kid's guardian takes priority over everything else. He looked around the empty street, “What if they never show up?”

"We can always call the police afterward," Tokoyami stated.

Midoriya walked up to the child and knelt in front of them with the friendliest smile he could muster. "My name is Midoriya Izuku, what’s your name?”

“I’m Kyuusaku!” the kid replied. Those symbol-carrying eyes looked Midoriya up and down, scanning over his body before the kid brightened even more. “You’re the one that broke your arms and legs!”

Arms and legs?

Midoriya recalled the foreigner he met when he was handing out the flyers earlier today. “You watched the Sports Festival?”

Everyone was surprised, but then remembered that the people here had access to the outside channels.

“So you watch the Sports Festival!” Kaminari laughed as he crouched down in front of the kid and pointed at himself. “Then do you remember me?”

Kyuusaku shook his head, still smiling so brightly that Kaminari didn’t know whether to laugh or cry.

“….Don’t mind," Asui patted his shoulder.

"Did you enjoy the Sports festival?" Jirou asked.

Kyuusaku nodded, “It looked really fun! I wish I could play too…”

“Oh! Do you wish to become a Hero in the future?” Iida asked excitedly.

“Hero?” Kyuusaku blinked. They stared at Iida with wide eyes before the child suddenly burst out into laughter, as if Iida had spoken the most hilarious joke they’ve ever heard. “No way!”

Everyone just stared at the child in confusion, then to each other. None of them were able to understand the joke.

“Big brother, do you like Stain?” Kyuusaku asked, mismatched eyes locking onto Iida.

Everyone froze at the name none of them had expected to hear coming out of this kid's mouth. They automatically looked towards Iida, whose face had darkened at the memories of the Villain flickering through his mind.

“Of course we don’t like Stain!” Sero exclaimed, drawing the kid’s attention to him. “He’s a bad guy!”

“Bad guy?” Kyuusaku tilted their head cutely. “Why?”

“Because he does bad things," Sato explained.

“Like what?” the kid pushed on, not noticing the discomfort the teenagers were feeling. There was only pure curiosity on the child’s face.

“Well, like—” Kirishima swiftly caught himself and stopped talking. He couldn’t possibly talk about killing in front of a kid, but even without the redhead saying it out loud, the child already knew the answer.

Kyuusaku smiled at the redhead and finished the words for him. “Like killing?”

Everyone stared at the child who had spoken of killing with such a happy expression.

"Yes…like killing," Yaoyorozu said slowly, eyes darting to her classmates.

“But don’t Heroes kill people too?” Kyuusaku then asked.

“Of course not! Heroes don’t kill people!” Midoriya defended.

At that, Kyuusaku looked genuinely confused as they turned to Midoriya. “So when Heroes fight Villains, they hold back their strength?”

“Well, no—”

“So you don’t hold back?” the boy asked, not even bothering to wait for Sato to finish.

"When Heroes fight, we use our strength to save people," Iida told the boy. "It's not about holding back or not."

“So you fight with all your strength?” Kyuusaku giggled. “Then how do you know you won’t kill the bad people?”

Some of the students opened their mouths but found that they couldn't answer the question.

"I saw a bad person die on TV. He died when fighting Heroes." Kyuusaku told them, still smiling.

“That’s not killing,” Todoroki tried to explain.

“But someone died?”

"Yes, but those are accidents," Shouji told the boy. “It couldn’t be helped. In a fight against Villains, there are always innocent bystanders getting caught in between. A Hero’s job is to—”

“But killing is killing,” the kid stated. “No matter what reason it is, you still killed someone.”

“Kyuusaku-chan…do you like Stain?” Yaoyorozu couldn't help but ask. The child's thought process was so…well, weird. How could a child talk about killing so easily? No, it’s because they’re a child that they didn’t understand the gravity of what their words meant. Considering the amount of influence the Hero Killer brought, Yaoyorozu wouldn't be surprised if Kyuusaku, much like many others in Japan, could understand Stain’s motive.

She wasn’t the only one thinking this way. Everyone else was expecting the kid to answer yes, given the conversation they just had. But to everyone’s surprise, the warm smile on Kyuusaku’s face dropped for the first time. On that kid’s face was an expression of pure confusion as those large eyes blinked up at them.

"No," Kyuusaku answered, as if it should be obvious. “He’s just a murderer that needed excuses to kill people. Why would I like him?”

Kyuusaku’s voice and tone were purely innocent. There was no mockery, no laughter…nothing. The child’s voice only held confusion over why they even asked that.

Everyone was taken back by the child’s response. Never had they heard anyone describe Stain like that. When Stain’s name first came around, the only things discussed were his actions and the current state of Heroes. There had been many debates over whether or not Stain’s actions were right, but so blatantly calling Stain a murderer was…something else.

“Kyuusaku-chan, what do you mean by that?” Asui asked with a frown on her lips.

“Isn’t it true though?” Kyuusaku jumped down from the bench and landed onto their feet. A bright smile lifted the corner of their lips. “He just wants to kill, yet he justified his actions by making a grand excuse. Isn’t that funny?”

“Justified…?” Midoriya stared at Kyuusaku. What is this kid even talking about?

The rest of the class wasn’t doing any better. They stared at the kid strangely as if they couldn’t understand the words coming from the kid’s mouth. This was no longer weird—it wasn’t normal.

“Hey, let’s play a game!” Kyuusaku suddenly changed the topic as they walked up to the U.A students. “I haven’t played a game in a long time! Won’t you play with me?”

Midoriya opened and closed his mouth. He was still trying to wrap his head around what this child had just said.

“S-sure, what do you want to play?” Hagakure hurriedly asked when the silence dragged on for a bit too long.

Everyone was now looking at the child weirdly. There was something not right with this kid. Despite that, none of them saw Kyuusaku as a threat. What they were beginning to worry about was this child’s environment.

Just what kind of environment gave the child such a skewed viewpoint? Kyuusaku did say they don’t have parents, but what about the guardian? Was this child perhaps neglected?

Many of them were already compensating on whether or not to call the police, but then Kyuusaku spoke.

“Let’s play tag!”

“Oh! Tag! That’s a great game!” Sero laughed, trying to brighten the weird tension in the air. “I’m super good at tag!”

“We can play in that park!” Ashido said, pointing to the park right next to them. Even if there weren’t any cars around, playing on the street was still dangerous.

“Alright! Who will be it?” Kaminari asked as he looked around.

“What’s an it?” Kyuusaku suddenly asked, causing everyone to look at the child in surprise.

“Kyuusaku-chan, have you not played tag before?” Asui asked carefully.

The young child shook their head, “I’ve only seen other people play it.”

“…I haven’t either.” Todoroki suddenly spoke up, frowning as he looked at the child.

Everyone stared between Todoroki and Kyuusaku while Midoriya’s eyes widened.

He looked over to the young kid. Could it be that this child had a similar childhood to Todoroki? No, rather than saying it's similar, it's more like…

“The it is the person that catches the other people," Ojiro explained as he walked up to crouch by the child. "They catch people by tapping them. If you get tagged by the it, you’re out.”

“What happens when you’re out?” Kyuusaku asked.

“Then you have to sit and wait until the it catches everyone. After that, the game restarts.” Tokoyami finished the explanation.

“Then I want to be it!” Kyuusaku said happily before reaching their hand out and tapping Ojiro on the shoulder. “You’re out!”

No one bothered to correct the child on how they should be given time to run. The moment Kyuusaku announced this, everyone ran off, squealing and giggling like little kids. Ojiro just laughed as he scratched his cheek, not minding how quickly he got thrown out of the game.

“Do I have to run after them?” Kyuusaku blinked as they watched the older kids run away.

“Yes, if you want to catch them?” Ojiro replied unsurely. "You don't like to run?"

"No, it's just running hurts," Kyuusaku replied. They didn’t sound sad or anything…just stating a fact.

Ojiro’s eyes automatically dropped to the child’s legs. Since the kid was wearing shorts, he was able to get a good look at slender legs lacking any form of muscle. Aside from the kid being a little thin, there didn't seem to be anything wrong. Maybe they sprained their ankle? Was that why they were sitting on a bench?

Believing that he had found the answer, Ojiro turned to his classmates who were scattered on the grass. They hadn’t gone far and were all waiting for the child to begin chasing them.

“Come on, Kyuusaku-chan!” Uraraka called as she waved her hand at them.

“Guys!” Ojiro called, successfully grabbing their attention.

“What’s wrong, man?” Kirishima asked, about to walk up when he stepped on a tiny twig lying in the grass.

Snap

“…!”

Ojiro heard a sharp intake of breath behind him. He turned and saw Kyuusaku standing there, trembling with wide eyes locked on Kirishima. Those irises were dilated and unsteady…there were even droplets of sweats rolling down the kid’s face despite how chilly the night was.

Those small hands were gripping onto his doll so tightly that they were shaking and white around the knuckles.

“Kyuusaku…?” Ojiro called out gently, but the kid didn’t even seem to have heard him. Their breathing was growing faster and faster. The time between each breath was also getting dangerously short, to the point where Ojiro thought they might hyperventilate.

The other kids noticed this as well and they all began to run over. Their footsteps thundered across the grass and somewhere amongst those footsteps, another twig snapped, causing the boy to completely freeze in place, his breathing stopped altogether.

“Kyuusaku?” Ojiro reached out both hands and grabbed the child’s forearms, hoping to snap the kid out of whatever shock they were in. The moment his hands made contact, he felt something very wrong. There were multiple hard objects under his palms sinking into the kid’s arms from the pressure of his grip.

“AAAAAAAAAAAAAAH!!!!!!”

Kyuusaku suddenly let out an ear-piercing scream, pushing Ojiro away and stumbled back, clutching onto the doll even tighter.

“NOOO!!!” They shrieked, voice cracking as pale fingers sank into the fabric of the doll, pulling on the surface of the fabric so hard that some of the white stuffing was being squeezed out. “NO! NO! NOOOO!!!”

“Kyuusaku-chan?!” Yaoyorozu wanted to approach, but was afraid she might agitate the child even more.

“What’s wrong?” Midoriya spoke loudly, hoping his voice could be heard through the child’s screams.

“IT’s aLL YouR fAuLt!!” Kyuusaku screamed, face morphing into what could only be described as pure malice. The doll trapped in his grip was beginning to move, but no one noticed as their eyes were all locked on the child’s face.

“I’LL cUrsE yOU! I’ll CURSE—!!”

“Q!!”

A voice bellowed from the distance, causing Kyuusaku to freeze up.

For a long moment, nobody could move. They all stared at Kyuusaku with cold sweat rolling down their faces.

What…what was that?

What exactly was that?

The sound of footsteps slowly brought the students back. One by one, they turned around to see a person emerging from the dark alleyway. He was covered in a long, black leather coat with white fur around the base of his collar.

Silvery white hair fluttered in the gentle breeze as the person slowly stepped into the light. They couldn’t see much of his face, as half of it was covered by his coat’s tall collar, but the way those golden eyes seemed to glow in the dim streetlight was unnerving.

He looked young… not much older than Class 1-A.

“A…Atsushi!” Kyuusaku seemed terrified as they clenched onto the old doll.

"What were you going to do, Q?" the white-haired boy questioned.

“I-I wasn’t doing anything!” Kyuusaku gasped, sounding desperate as they ran up to the young man. They reached out a small hand and gripped onto his black coat. “I wasn’t, so—”

When those golden eyes narrowed, Kyuusaku swallowed down the rest of the words. They clutched the doll tighter to their chest and spoke in a desperate voice.

“I’m sorry, I won’t do it again! So…don’t leave me!”

The white-haired boy’s gaze softened a little before shifting to the students.

“Thank you for taking care of this child. I apologize for the trouble,” he said, nodding in their direction before turning to leave.

“Wait!”

Upon being called, the man stopped and turned around. His golden eyes met with Midoriya��s green ones.

“Are you…” Midoriya hesitated, eyes darting down to Kyuusaku then back to the stranger. “Kyuusaku’s guardian?”

“I am,” the other replied naturally. That didn’t seem to be a lie…and from how Kyuusaku interacted with this man, he was most likely the child’s guardian. However, it was precisely because of this that Midoriya needed to stop them.

"Do you have any identification to prove that you're that child's guardian?" Iida asked, looking at the man with a face full of distrust.

No matter how they looked at it, that interaction just now wasn’t normal. It wasn’t a conversation any ordinary kid would have with their guardian. Kyuusaku was terrified of this man, yet the way they still begged not to be thrown aside was raising red flags in all of their heads.

The images of Kyuusaku’s crazed look were still fresh in their minds, but that only fueled their desire and need to protect this young child. Anyone could tell by now that the kid’s mental stability wasn’t, well, stable. The cause may very well be this person right there.

 “Proof?” The man raised a fine brow as those golden eyes shifted to Iida. The moment their eyes met, Iida felt a droplet of sweat rolling down the back of his neck. He didn’t know why, but something wasn’t right with this person.

“…There is no need for me to prove anything to you,” the white-haired boy said calmly. He turned again and began to walk away.

“Wait!” Kirishima called, but the other didn’t stop. He just kept on walking with Kyuusaku by his side.

“HOLD IT RIGHT THERE!!” Bakugou roared. He knew he needed to stop them. Something wasn’t right about that guy. He couldn’t let him take the kid. “We’re not done speaking!”

“Don’t yell at Atsushi!” Kyuusaku suddenly spun around and shouted. Those eyes were glaring murderously at Bakugou who stopped in his tracks.

Bakugou was stunned. He couldn’t understand why the kid would defend this man who terrified them like that.

“Q, we’re leaving,” the boy known as Atsushi called. He didn’t look back and continued to walk away, not caring about the group of teenagers behind him.

Kyuusaku ran back to his side, one hand gripping onto the older boy’s jacket as they walked down the abandoned street. From the shadow of the alleyway Atsushi had emerged from, a dagger soundlessly slid back into its sheath as a figure slowly stepped back and vanished into the darkness.

Class 1-A could only watch as the young man and the child disappeared from their sight. None of them were able to stop them.

“We…we have to call sensei!” Aoyama all but screamed after they lost sight of the pair.

“No matter how you look at it, that’s not normal,” Jirou agreed.

“I’m calling right now!” Iida was way ahead of his classmates as he opened his phone, pausing at the contact list. Who should they call? Their teachers? But their teachers were outsiders as well, would they be able to do anything?

So Iida chose the most obvious choice and clicked on Kunikida’s contact. The blond man was the one they were most familiar with. Iida was certain he could save Kyuusaku.

“What’s wrong, Ojiro?” Shouji asked when he noticed Ojiro was still sitting on the floor, the same position he had been in since Kyuusaku pushed him away.

Ojiro didn’t reply, his head dipped low as he stared down at his own hands. When everyone else looked to his hands, they paled at the sight of red fluid covering both of his palms.

“Ojiro-kun! What happened to your hands?!” Midoriya was horrified by the amount of blood that was there.

“It’s not my blood!” Ojiro explained, voice quivering slightly. "When Kyuusaku was screaming, I tried to get him to calm down and gripped his arms, I—"

Ojiro was quickly calming down as he recalled the feeling of what he felt underneath the child’s sleeves. Whatever those were, they were sharp and all over the kid’s arms. No, rather, it felt like his hands were the ones that made those sharp objects sink into the child's flesh.

He quickly explained that to the others.

“Back then…Kyuusaku said that running hurts.” Ojiro felt sick as he finally realized what was wrong. It wasn’t the child’s legs that were hurting, it was his upper body that was hidden beneath his coat. “We have to find him, he might be in danger!”

They should have realized sooner just how incongruent everything about Kyuusaku was!

“Kunikida-san?” Iida spoke and everyone turned to see him on the phone with Kunikida. “We need help! There’s a child and— where are we? Uh…” Iida began looking around, but couldn’t see any road signs indicating their location.

“I know!” Kaminari said as he fumbled with the paper map he used to lead them to the bar.

Iida turned the phone to speaker mode and turned it towards his classmate.

“We’re on—!” Before Kaminari could say the address, Kunikida began to speak.

“That’s alright, I can see where you are on the map,” the blond stated from the other end. “I am not going to start with why all of you are even there. You have forty minutes to come back. I won’t be explaining to your teachers if you miss your curfew time.”

“Kunikida-san! There’s a kid that’s hurt and got taken away by a strange man!” Ashido explained.

“He could be a human trafficker!” Aoyama joined in the background.

“A kid was taken by a strange man?” They could all hear the frown on Kunikida’s face. “By force?”

“No, they walked away together but—” Todoroki tried to pipe in, but was interrupted by Kunikida.

“Forget it.”

“Eh?” Ashido blinked, as if unable to believe she had heard right. “What do you mean by that?”

“Exactly what I meant.” Kunikida said on the other end. “If you don’t know how to get back, stay put. I’ll come to get you.”

“Wait!” Midoriya yelled. “There’s an injured child who might be in danger!”

A sigh came from the other end of the line.

“Yokohama is not the outside world,” Kunikida reminded the group. “Don't stick your nose into places where it doesn't belong.”

“That’s got nothing to do with anything!” Bakugou shouted. “Did you not hear a fucking word we said?! There’s a kid—”

“And I’m telling you to forget about this kid,” the man sighed “Use your brains, would any ordinary kid appear in such an isolated place so late at night?"

“That’s why we need to help!” Yaoyorozu said, as if it was the most obvious thing. “Something isn’t right and that child could be in danger! He’s bleeding!”

Another sigh. “You know what, this is going nowhere. Just stay there and don’t move around. I’m coming to pick you up.”

Click

Just like that, Kunikida hung up, leaving the kids staring in shock and disbelief.

“What the fuck?!” Bakugou hollered, voicing out everyone’s thoughts in three short words.

Iida gritted his teeth, hands gripping tightly onto his phone before he began dialing again.

“What are you doing?” Tokoyami asked.

“The police!” Iida answered, typing in the numbers before putting the phone over his ear. He reached the helpline fairly quickly. Everyone watched hopefully as Iida explained the situation to the operator.

“It’s Kyuusaku, sir!” Iida said into the phone. “Surname? I don’t know...gender? A boy maybe? No, I don’t know for sure—we just met in the park!”

Iida seemed to be panicking as he struggled to converse with the other side. Everyone just watched as his responses grew weaker and weaker.

“Well, yes, that person claimed to be their guardian but—…yes…yes…they left together.” After that, Iida didn’t say anything. He just waited for the other side to finish before he slowly pulled the phone away from his ear.

“They…” Iida opened and closed his mouth a few times before he could finally utter the words. “They said they can’t do anything.”

“What…do you mean?” Uraraka asked. “A child’s being taken—”

“Kyuusaku-kun walked away by himself," Iida told everyone. "And that person said he’s Kyuusaku-kun’s guardian. The operator said the police won’t get involved unless we can provide proof that he was being taken away against his will.”

“What?!” Ashido was outraged. “What kind of response is that?!”

“How can…are we just going to let it happen?!” Sato spluttered.

For the first time since arriving, the kids felt the malice within Yokohama. This was wrong! This whole city was wrong! How could they all turn a blind eye to someone—a child — that needed help? No matter how they looked at it, it’s just not normal!

“I’m going.” Midoriya suddenly announced.

“Deku-kun?!” Uraraka gasped.

“Kyuusaku needs help, and I can’t turn a blind eye to it,” he said as his hands rolled into tight fists. Questions flooded through his mind as he kept replaying their conversation with Kunikida.

Why?

Why did he refuse to help even when there was someone in need of help? Wasn’t the Armed Detective Agency there to help people?

Midoriya didn’t understand, but one thing that’s clear was that no one was going to save Kyuusaku.

“It might be dangerous!” Aoyama whimpered. “Kunikida-san told us to stay put, and we can’t use our Quirks!”

“I’m just going to follow them and find out where they went,” Midoriya explained. “If I can find their location, then we can call the police and have them do something, right?”

“That’s true,” Sero agreed. “They want proof right? If they go take a look for themselves I’m sure they’ll find something wrong!”

“But you saw how Kyuusaku-chan defended that person,” Yaoyorozu pointed out.

“We can’t just do nothing!” Ojiro was the most affected by the situation due to the child’s blood staining his hands.

“I agree with Midoriya,” Todoroki said. “I’m going as well.”

“I’m coming too!” Bakugou announced, still grinding his teeth in irritation at the thought of that man. “There’s something off about that guy.”

“You guys can’t all go! You’ll get found out!” Hagakure said as she pulled off her gloves and threw them onto the floor. “How about this, I’ll go with Midoriya-kun! Since they can’t see me, I can scout the area without getting seen!”

“But your Quirk—” Sato began, only to get cut off.

“I’m not using my Quirk! I’m just naturally like this!”

Well, she wasn’t wrong about that. 

“I’ll go with them!” Jirou said. “Even if I can’t use my quirk, I can still hear better than average people.”

“I’ll go with you too,” Shouji walked over to Midoriya. “If anything happens, I can take everyone and run.”

“Then I’ll—” Kirishima also wanted to volunteer, but was stopped by Bakugou.

“Any more and the enemy will notice, stupid,” he pointed out.

“We have enemies now?” the blond gaped.

“Thank you, Shouji-kun, Hagakure-san, Jirou-san,” Midoriya thanked the three. He knew he was being selfish, and he knew that it was going to be dangerous. Whoever that white haired male was, Midoriya could tell he wasn’t anyone ordinary.

Everyone else knew as well, that’s why none of them could turn a blind eye to Kyuusaku’s situation.

“Fifteen minutes,” Iida finally gritted out. Anyone could tell he strongly disapproved of it, but he also wanted to save Kyuusaku more than anyone else. “If you don’t come back in fifteen minutes, we will call the teachers and Kunikida-san.”

“Yeah,” Midoriya nodded.

“Here, take this phone.” Yaoyorozu held out her phone. “It seems there are trackers on the phone for Kunikida-san to find us. I’ve turned off the sound just in case. If anything happens, we can find you.”

“Thank you, Yaoyorozu,” Jirou said as she took the phone.

Ashido also handed the phone she carried to Hagakure, while Midoriya and Shouji took out their own phones and muted them.

“Don’t do anything dangerous, ok?” Uraraka told them.

“Don’t worry, we’ll be back before you guys know it!” Hagakure said cheerfully, though no one could see her aside from the pair of shoes still on her feet.

Just like that, the four of them took off, running towards where the man had disappeared off to with Kyuusaku.

As the rest of the class watched them go, Asui let out a small croak from the back of her throat and looked up to the cloudy sky. A cold droplet of water came out of nowhere and fell onto her left cheek.

“Gero?”

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[cardandpixel]

RocketBook Flip - a rare review and it’s not a game!

Before I go any further, I feel I must point out that I don’t have any financial connection to RocketBook whatsoever – this isn’t a piece that was requested or courted by RocketBook or affiliates and I’m not receiving any reward or sponsorship either in product or direct payment for this article. I just like the damn thing and love it when an innovative piece of tech (in this case quite low key) just works. Hi I’m Paul, and I have a bit of a problem with notebooks – A4 lined, sketch, reporters, Black & Reds (ohhhh the sheer number of B&Rs), goofy ones, serious work ones, battered ones, pristine ‘for best only’ ones – and they all fill at an alarming rate. I make notes on everything. Working as a sound engineer and designer, there’s always mix notes, soundscape plots, ideas, VO notes and scripts, SFX ideas etc etc. At home it’s a very different story – it’s much worse. Game notes; blog notes; hurriedly scribbled quiz questions spurred by watching another episode of Mental Floss’ 500 facts about cheese; RPG notes and story ideas; my own script writing; world building; sketches; other creative ideas; song/music notes and ideas; and that’s before we get to to-do lists; and the dreaded ‘things I must remember’. So my journal life is many, varied and plenty. The usual issue is… ‘what frakking journal did I put that amazing idea in????’, and that’s way before we get to the utter horror that is possibly losing a whole journal or forgetting to bring one home from work. I’m 53, I forget more than I recall, and journals help bring some semblance of order to a massively chaotic and fertile brain. What I’ve needed for a long time is some way of organising all this info or centralising it in some way. Sure I’ve looked at apps – I used Things, Evernote, Notes, and One Note for years, and they are really, really good, but they relied on either having a charged device exactly when I need it (yeah – me too) or net access, which for a new-ish theatre, is surprisingly a bit of an issue at work. And the most important part – I actually enjoy the physical act of handwriting long-hand. I still write actual physical letters to people, it’s adorable and a bit creepy in this age, but I call it charming and leave it at that. Handwriting, for me, allows me time to think and process in a way that typing just doesn’t. Handwriting is slower, I rarely cross anything out, and so I always have the whole of the thought. So what I’ve ideally wanted for years, was a reliable way of organising all my notes and storing them electronically so I have access even without the actual journal, with OCR so they’re editable, and still being a tactile handwritten experience. I’m naturally a sceptic (I actually subscribe to Fortean Times – yeah – I card carry!) and so online ads and particularly FaceAche ads are a field day for critical thinking triggers. I don’t think I’ve ever received from Wish, exactly what I ordered from Wish. And so when an ad from RocketBook constantly kept popping up on my timeline a few weeks ago, I was naturally “it’ll never work” But their website looked legit enough – they had a dedicated UK shop, it was relatively steep to buy in but not so wild that if it didn’t work I wouldn’t be crying too much about the money wasted, and at the end of the day it was a 10th the price of a ReMarkable 2 which is actually what I thought would solve my problem. I’m furloughed at the mo and though I could argue the case for £300+ notebook (test me, I could), I just couldn’t justify it now. And RocketBook had a good summer intro offer. I ordered on the Wednesday, and the impressively glitzy and graphic-design-playbook poly package was dropped on my doorstep just 2 days later by my cheery postie who yelled up the drive “Package for ya, looks very exciting!!!!” I like that our postal service is still invested in the hopes and dreams of their customers. It was exciting. All the instructions for getting started with my new Teal RocketBook A4 Flip were right there before you even open it. The main body houses the pad and a cleaning cloth, and a clever little side pocket houses the supplied Pilot Frixion pen.

RocketBooks come in several models, all configured slightly differently. I have the Flip which is a top spiral-bound softback pad with 21 double sided ‘pages’ giving 42 pages in total. The Flip has lined paper one side, and dot paper on the reverse (great for D&D maps, impromptu tables, mixer channel plots etc)

DELIVERY & FIRST IMPRESSIONS The pads are nicely made, with sturdy covers (available in some really nice colours too) and a solid, thick plastic ring binding. Initially, The RocketBook does feel a bit odd. Its ‘pages’ are actually a synthetic polyester blend and feel quite shiny to the touch. The sort of surface you just instantly feel is not going to be great for ink! Each page is edge-to-edge lined or dotted with a heavy black border. At the bottom is a prominent QR code used for scanning and some very feint icons. These 7 icons are the key to the ease of use of the RocketBook series. But more later.

THE APP

The pads work with a companion app, that is absolutely free and available for Apple & Android. In fact, RB even do downloadable printable pages so you can try the whole system absolutely free before you buy – I didn’t, I just bought one, y’know. The app allows you to set up your destination locations, your preferences and does the actual scanning. Just one quick note, I have the app on both my phone and iPad and had to set-up the app the same for both, there appears to be no way of swapping preference settings between devices, though I can see why this may be intentional.

Currently, the RocketBook allows you to choose from the following locations to send files to: GoogleDrive, box, EverNote, DropBox, slack, OneNote, iCloud, OneDrive as well as simply to an email (or multiple) addresses and iMessage. Impressively, these are not fixed either, so you could choose your 7 destinations to be 7 email addresses of team members. These 7 locations are the icons at the bottom of each page. To select a destination for your file, you just make a mark in that icon box (tick, circle, something unsavoury) and that page will be sent to whichever you select. This makes the system very flexible indeed as not every page is necessarily sent to every destination. You always decide every time you fill a page. Change your mind on a second revision? No problem, add or change icons at any time and re-upload.

There’s a really handy table on the inside front cover for you to note what icon sends what where. This is also wipeable, so can be changed anytime.

I have mine set by default to:

Rocket > main email address (either as PDF, JPG, OCR embedded or as separate txt file)

Diamond > GoogleDrive (you can specify exactly what folder too)

Apple > iMessage

Bell > OneNote

That actually still leaves me 3 spare: shamrock; star; and horseshoe.

The app took me maybe 20mins to set-up, that included decision time for destinations and setting up a few target folders. It also included a few ‘test firings’. I didn’t get everything right first time and a few things didn’t send, but crucially, a tiny bit of digging revealed very simple troubleshooting (including the aforementioned issue with no sync’ing of phone and iPad), and all in I was finding the files in all the right destinations within about 30 mins. The website, FAQs and community are immensely helpful with any other issues as well. I had a tiny issue with OneNote seeming to take ages to sync, but I think that’s an issue with my OneNote settings, everything else was almost instantaneous. You can also handily set the app to auto-send as soon as it scans, or allow for manual review.

CLEAN UP ON AISLE ROCKETPAD The main reason I wanted to look at the RocketBook was the issue of reusability. My journal shenanigans are by no means the biggest ecological disaster on the planet, but if we are to believe Tesco (who probably issue as many receipts at our local Tesco Express in a day as journals I’ve ever used), every little helps. If I could find an ecologically better solution, I should at least take a look. The RocketPads work by partnering with Pilot pens called Frixion. The really clever bit is RB’s paper technology and how it works with the Frixion ink. At present, the pads only work with the Frixion pens – except the RB Colour which works with Crayola’s dry-erase crayons. When you write on the ‘paper’ with a Frixion pen, it remains wet for a few seconds and then dries pretty quickly. There’s no smudging whatsoever in transit, which is pretty cool. From then on, it may as well be permanent, until you have transmitted your page and decide you don’t want the text anymore.  To wipe the page clean, you can dampen the supplied cloth and just wipe the surface clean, it’s weird but it works! But then damp cloth in your bag? So I use kitchen roll to dampen, then wipe dry with theirs. Others even have an adorably kitsch spray bottle in their kit. RB reckon if you are not going to use the pad for a few months, to clean the pages as the ink can get trickier to shift after a long time, but for day-to-day use, I’ve tried writing and wiping well over 20x and the page hasn’t become discoloured or tarnished at all. The only pad different in the range is the Wave which cleans by microwaving! Do NOT do this with any of the others, bad things will happen. The ink doesn’t take scrubbing or any time to come up, I clean my pages in about 10-15s. The page can feel a little tacky when it’s damp, but leave a minute or so and the page will be back to normal. RB do say that odd things can happen if the book is left near a heatsource or in a hot car, vis-à-vis, the ink can completely disappear horrifyingly enough. They say that putting the pen or the pad in the freezer for a little while will actually restore the ink, but I’ve not tried it yet so can’t confirm or deny how that goes. Handy for spies in hot countries though, so there’s another target market. If you are always going to send your pages to the same places, then don’t erase the marked icons, and the page is ready for new notes straight away, otherwise, scrub them too.

I CAN’T READ YOUR WRITING – ARE YOU A DOCTOR? Initially, the RB pads send their files as scans of the pages in high contrast monochrome (colour is available) when you snap the page in the app (which auto-frames for you and takes maybe 10s to capture). The formats are either as images or PDF. If that had been it, I would have been quite happy, but the RB pads have another trick up their sleeve. Firstly, they have a function called ‘Smart Titles’ which allows you to name your files directly from the page by writing a filename between double hashtags ie ## this is my scrawl 24/8/20 ## and the file will pop up in your destinations with the filename “this is my scrawl 24/08/20” – this is insanely handy – there’s no protocol except your own and the hashtags, and it makes your files super easy to search. You can even send groups of pages as a single PDF. But the notebooks go even further. They actually offer full searchable OCR which the app can be set to send embedded in the PDF or image, or more usefully, as a companion separate .txt file. Now, my handwriting isn’t the neatest, but it’s not bad so I was prepared for some editing to be necessary, but impressively again, the OCR was about 90-95% accurate. In a page of text it missed maybe 3 or 4 words and even those not badly. This is all considering their full OCR is still only in beta! It gets confused with diagrams on the page, but that’s to be expected.

Text Generated by OCR: ## Blog post och test Aug 2020 ## This is a little demonstration of the OCR capabilities of the Rocket Book pads and app. I've told the lovely people that the hit rate is about 90-95% so please dant let me down here flip pad. Hopefully the file name will also prove another point further up in the section and not make me look like some charlatan or snake-oil salesman.Hope you enjoyed this demonstrahen, now go away and leave me to write the next great novella.Bye!

HOW MUCH? On average, I pay anywhere from £4-8 for a decent A4 notebook/journal, so at £30-37 (dependent on model), the RocketBook pads are not a whim purchase. That said, I get through a lot of journals in a year, and given that I would expect to easily get 2-3 years out of a RocketBook pad, then I’ve saved money. Will it replace all my notebooks? No. You need to be thinking of carrying this round as a kit: pad, Frixion pen (at least 2), and cloth.  RB do a series of portfolio sleeves for the pads but it does push the price up a bit still, but for a rep, engineer or salesperson, this still makes sense. They’re less bulky than a normal A4 pad too. What I would say is Tesco and Sainsbury’s currently stock Frixion pens and at much better prices than buying them from RB directly, I just paid £3 for 3 pens on offer at Tesco compared to £10 from RB. You get one pen with the pad, but you’re going to want more soon, so stock up next time you’re shopping for truffle oil crisps. If you use whiteboards a lot, RB also have you covered. Instead of the pad, £16 will get you a 4 pack of ‘beacons’ – little self-adhesive triangles that effectively do the same thing as the QR code in the pad. You don’t have the icon options obviously, but if you’re looking to distribute quick meeting or group notes, this would be a boon. CONCLUSION Considering this was a fairly speculative purchase on my part, my early experiences with the RocketBook Flip have been really impressive. The flexibility, the ability to store every page in a different location if you really wanted to make it fantastic for organising my notes, which can save me hours of finding the right ^^$&^$&$ notebook in the first place, then scouring that for the one paragraph I was looking for etc etc. The searchable text facility, in-app history for re-sending etc and last but no way least, functional handwriting OCR, makes the RocketBook not only novel, but actually useable! Would I buy another? As a second notebook – yes. I look forward to seeing what the actual longevity of the product is once I come off furlough and start cramming my day bag with all my junk and a notepad again, but yes, I’d probably just have one at home, and one for work, but make the last 5 mins of each day, scanning and sending work notes so I have them with me wherever. Impressively, the RocketBook Flip just works and it works well. ‘Er Across The Table has already sold several folk at her work on the idea and she doesn’t even have one herself yet! I love it. It’s taking a little adjusting to, but it’s all good. The most important thing though is the writing experience, and I have to say, the combination of the Frixion pen/ink and the polymer technology of the Flip, again, just works. It’s smooth, doesn’t skip or smudge for me (I know some right to left users and left handers have reported some issues) and feels great to write on. If anything I have to slow down a bit as the contact is so smooth that your writing can get a bit ahead of you! RocketBook have produced a cracker of a product. It might not seem like much, but if practical working journals are your thing (ie not create and keep things) then I can highly recommend the RocketBook series.

[freudsghost]

Your art is beautiful but you should credit the editor that did the photo edit you used as reference

you’re right, I should! (this is going to be a bit long into how i make art so prepare...)The drawing I really want to talk about is THIS because the process was pretty wild. My focus for this drawing was lady loki, and my goal for creating her how i wanted her to look was separate from the comics, i wanted to create a believable MCU lady loki, and to do that i didn’t want to just fan cast her, because this is art I can do whatever I want right? So as much as I don’t like him-- i watched about two hours (maybe more) of interviews, red carpet BS and combed thru scenes in Thor Ragnarok. I took multiple screen grabs of him thru-out the process and kind of “morphed” them mentally and then did like 200 sketches of what I thought Lady Loki might look like by feminizing Tom’s features. I really wish I still had all this on my tablet but because I need to preserve storage and I did that piece over a year ago, it’s been deleted. But for that one most of my ‘edits’ were my own screen grabs from interviews and T:R and then a process of drawing her over and over again until I was happy.

You can see part of the process and sketches here in a screen grab from my gallery! (i blocked out some other art and photos here for focus)

for THIS sketch I was sure I wanted to do some snake sketching (i really want to draw Craig too... might do that soon) so I combed thru the snake yoga video and I still have most of the screen grabs I used as seen here:

I circled the shots I used here and blacked out surrounding images for continuity again. I used the top images for an unfinished sketch I posted to my IG story.  

For THIS I did the same thing but I had to go thru multiple videos finding Chunk footage. And I used multiple images as reference and “edited” them all together.

for THIS I used four reference photos and interpreted them thru a “creative” lens, I was kinda going for a comic pop art feel for no reason at all. i just kinda like the way clean lines and bright colours look.

at this point you can kinda see how weird my tablet looks with 1000s of screencaps (this is why I have to delete after a while, it gets wild)

and finally! THIS one was harder because I found the source photo on pinterest... kind of a side note, but this was my first sketch after a year and a half of no art and I didn’t even know I was going to start drawing again. I usually get my own source images because it took me a while to reverse image search (why I hate pinterest-- don’t use pinterest as a source kids) but I think it’s an edit created by @atbackground and can be found here! (finding the source on this took over an hour this morning omg) whoever posted it to pinterest took off any credit as well which is shitty af, credit artists people!!

anyway, hope this helps!