#time to go to the drawing board and start drafting—

[sweetestflow3rs]

a part of me knows i realistically SHOULD put more thought into noel’s best friend rather than just reducing them to a thing, cause that just feels downright disrespectful to them 😭 dead / distorted and the narrative writer won’t even give you the grace of an identity…

[pitlanepeach]

Radio Silence | Chapter Seven

Lando Norris x Amelia Brown (OFC)

Series Masterlist

Summary — Order is everything. Her habits aren't quirks, they're survival techniques. And only three people in the world have permission to touch her: Mom, Dad, Fernando.

Then Lando Norris happens.

One moment. One line crossed. No going back.

Warnings — Autistic!OFC, strong language, more angst (IM SORRY IT'LL GET BETTER SOON I PROMISE).

Notes — Welcome to Oracle Red Bull Racing, Amelia Brown.

Want to be added to the taglist? Let me know! - Peach x

2020

The office was quiet in the way only offices designed for genius could be; not sterile, but reverent. Drafting boards and CAD monitors hummed quietly in the background, interrupted only by the soft tick of a mechanical clock that someone had insisted on keeping analogue.

Amelia sat stiffly in the chair opposite Adrian Newey.

He was perched on a stool beside a massive whiteboard, sleeves rolled up, fingers stained faintly with pen ink, as though he’d been sketching ideas directly into the fabric of his shirt. His presence was oddly... nerve-racking. 

Neither of them spoke for the first few minutes.

Amelia rolled her golf ball between her hands in her lap, trying not to bounce her knee. Adrian made a few marks on a fresh sheet of paper, muttering under his breath. It sounded like a stream of formulaic gibberish to anyone else. To her, it was almost a lullaby.

He paused. Looked at her. “Do you have any thoughts?”

She shrugged. “I wasn’t sure you’d want to hear them.”

Adrian hummed, and then there was a faint smile tugging at the corners of his mouth. “I will always listen. I will also always tell you when you are wrong.”

She swallowed, then nodded. Then she gestured to his paper pad. “You’re already sketching the '21 nosecone?”

“Yes. The frontal vortex targets under the new regs are… absolutely maddening. They’ll make cooling a nightmare.” He muttered. 

She shifted forward, almost involuntarily. “Mm. Not if you separate the low-pressure bleed early and feed it into the underside of the side-pod. It could trick the wake into thinking it’s interacting with a full-body airflow.”

He went very still. 

“Interesting,” he said slowly, standing and crossing to the nearest drafting board. He didn’t ask her to explain it again. He just started drawing. She stood too, walking around the conference table in order to stand at his side. Without looking at her, he handed her a pen. 

She made a face at it. “I like red.” 

He didn’t say anything. Just took the black pen back and found her a red one. 

By the time lunchtime rolled around, they had filled three boards, made seven sketches, and the early formation of a concept that wouldn’t just survive under the 2021 regs; it would thrive.

They hadn’t spoken much, not conversationally. Just fragments.

“This doesn’t breathe well at speed.”

“What if we taper the upper control arm here instead?”

“Why does this remind me of the '98 car?”

But somehow, it worked.

By mid-afternoon, Adrian glanced up at her from the schematic they were both hunched over.

“You think in shapes,” he said.

She blinked at him. “You think in sound.”

He smiled, and it was full of promise. “We will make a wonderful pair, Miss Brown.”

She let out a quiet breath. “Oh. Good. I was afraid that you would regret spending three million pounds on me.”

He stared at her for a long moment before laughing shortly. “No regret, Miss Brown. Not a single one.” 

For the first time in weeks, she didn’t feel anxious. Or lonely. Or burning with the guilt of abandoning McLaren, the team that was synonymous with her family name. 

She tucked the golf ball back into her pocket. “I’ll draw up a more formal aero flow map tonight.”

“Don’t bother,” he said, flipping to a new page. “We’ll build it first. Then reverse-engineer the explanation.”

She grinned, sharp and fast and excited. “We can do that?”

“We can do anything we want.” He told her. 

— 

Christian pushed open the door to the technical office with the kind of hesitant curiosity reserved for someone who was pretty sure they’d told everyone to go home six hours ago.

The light was still on.

At first, he thought maybe the cleaners had left it by mistake. But as he stepped inside, the faint scratch of pencil on paper, the rustle of blueprints, and the hum of two very intense brains in quiet dialogue stopped him dead in his tracks.

Adrian was barefoot now, barefoot, perched on a wheeled chair with one leg pulled up under him like some kind of engineering gremlin, holding a scale model in one hand and gesturing toward it with the other, mid-monologue.

Amelia was sitting cross-legged on the floor, a yellow golf ball tucked beneath her heel, grease-smudged notebook balanced on her knee, jotting notes at lightning speed while murmuring confirmations like, “Yeah, but the boundary layer separation’s going to collapse here—unless we change the outwash angle…”

Neither of them noticed Christian standing in the doorway.

The room was covered in paper. The whiteboards had no white left. Someone, probably Adrian, had scrawled equations on the glass wall. There was a half-eaten croissant on the radiator. Half of the work was done in black ink. The other half was done in red. 

He took one silent step backward.

Paused.

Then slowly, quietly, pulled the door closed behind him.

From inside, he could just barely hear Adrian’s voice, “Did I ever tell you about the time I built a full wind tunnel model out of my wife’s hairdryer and a vacuum tube?”

Amelia sucked in a breath. “Did it work?”

“It blew the roof off my shed.”

She laughed, genuinely, full of lightness.

Christian exhaled and reached for his phone.

—

iMessage — 00:45am

Christian Horner

We are going to become world champions. 

Helmut Marko

How can you know?

Christian Horner

Newey is barefoot. His intern is laughing. 

Helmut Marko

Mein Gott.

— 

The drive home from Milton Keynes had been quiet; just the low hiss of the car heater and the soft murmur of the radio.

It had been her first week working at Red Bull Racing. She’d stayed in Max’s flat, the one he kept in Milton Keynes but only used when he was in town for sim sessions. 

The high of her first week was still humming under her skin; the buzz of purpose, of being understood, but underneath that, exhaustion tugged at her bones. She felt stretched thin. Too much stimulus, too many new faces. 

But the moment she stepped through the front door, into the warm, lemon-honey air of the house she’d grown up in, none of that mattered.

Her mum was in the kitchen, back turned, humming softly to the radio.

Amelia didn’t say anything.

She dropped her bag quietly, kicked off her shoes, walked straight over and folded herself into her mother’s arms from behind, pressing her forehead between her shoulder blades, breathing her in.

Tracy stilled. Just for a moment. Then she reached back, tugging Amelia around until she could hold her properly; one hand at the back of her head, the other wrapped around her shoulders, thumb rubbing slow circles into her jumper.

“Hello, darling,” she whispered. “I missed you.”

Amelia pressed closer, her cheek against her mum’s collarbone. “I missed you too.”

They stood there like that for a long time, the hum of the radio filling the silence between them, a wooden spoon tapping gently against the edge of a pan.

“I saw the article,” Tracy said eventually, voice soft. “And the photos.”

Amelia tensed.

Another piece had gone live, following the Motorsport.com exclusive. Red Bull had shared her official announcement — complete with photographs of her in team gear, standing in the middle of Max and Alex. 

Tracy didn’t let her pull away. “You looked very professional. And happy.” 

“I am,” she said, too fast. Then again, slower. “I am. I just… I’m wishing that he wouldn’t make it so hard.”

Tracy sighed into her hair. “Your father’s not angry with you, love. Not really. He’s angry with himself. He had no idea that you were even receiving offers, let alone considering any.”

Amelia swallowed. Shrugged. “He didn’t want me at McLaren. He never offered. I gave him every chance to.”

“I know, sweetheart.” Tracy pulled back just far enough to look her in the eye. “And you were right not to wait forever. You did the brave thing. You put yourself first. I’m proud of you.”

Amelia blinked fast. “I’m not used to that,” she admitted. “Putting myself first. It feels… selfish.”

Tracy brushed a strand of damp hair from her face. “No. Not selfish. It’s how you grow. You’re building race cars with Adrian bloody Newey. That’s something to be incredibly proud of.”

Amelia smiled, weakly. “They call me Mini Newey. All of the engineers. Christian. Max thinks that it’s funny.”

Tracy chuckled, pulling her into a tight squeeze again. “They should call you Better Newey.”

That pulled a real laugh out of her, small and sore and soft.

“Now,” Tracy said, letting her go, “go change into your favourite pyjamas and let me feed you. I bet you haven’t eaten a real meal all week.”

“I’ve been living on machine coffee and stale pastries,” Amelia admitted, already peeling off her jumper. 

Tracy shuddered. “Criminal behaviour. Go on, love. I’ll have dinner on the table in ten.”

As Amelia padded toward the stairs, warmth blooming in her chest, she heard her mum call gently after her. “He’ll come around. He loves you too much not to.”

She didn’t answer, but she nodded once, before disappearing up the stairs.

— 

iMessage — 01:43am

Lando Norris did u leave bc of me like. mclaren it’s okay if u did i just. i just need to know feels like maybe u did and idk. i feel shit also this is prob a bad time. i had like 5 beers and a shot of smth blue was v blue. tasted like acid

Amelia Brown No. Not because of you. You don’t matter to me that much.

Lando Norris ouch ok but like partly bc of me?

Amelia Brown Not everything is about you, Lando.

Lando Norris but some things are

Amelia Brown You started ignoring me. For no reason. Then I got a job designing a future championship-winning car. Those two things are unrelated.

Lando Norris when did u become so meannnn :(

Amelia Brown I’m not being mean. You’re just used to me being quiet when people treat me badly.

Lando Norris i didn’t mean to treat u badly i just panicked everything was getting weird and real and i didn’t know what to say

Amelia Brown So you said nothing. That’s still a choice.

Lando Norris yeah. i know. i’m sorry i miss u sometimes just thought u should know that

Amelia Brown That doesn’t change anything.

Lando Norris yeah i figured ok

Amelia Brown Go home. You are going to feel terrible tomorrow morning. 

Lando Norris already do thanks i guess goodnight mini newey 

Amelia Brown Don’t call me that 

— 

Amelia sat cross-legged on the floor with her laptop open in front of her, the Red Bull Racing CAD interface glowing on the screen. Max was half-stretched out on the couch behind her, a bowl of strawberries balanced on his stomach and a bottle of Heineken in hand.

“Okay,” Amelia said, tapping the trackpad. “Front wing redesign is about eighty percent locked. We’re still playing with DRS and airflow under braking, but I think what we’ve got is going to make the car ridiculously sharp into corners.”

Max took a sip of his beer, watching her over the rim. “Ridiculously sharp sounds nice.” He noted. 

“It’ll bite if you get lazy,” she warned him.

He shrugged. “So, just like you.”

Amelia didn’t even look up at him. Over the past few weeks of working with him, she’d learned how to decipher his tones — he was teasing her. “I’m not lazy. You’d die without me.”

He tossed a strawberry at her. She caught it and took a bite.

She turned back to her laptop, sighed, and opened up the email thread that she and Adrian had going. 

Max cleared his throat. “Ah, have you talked to your dad yet?”

Amelia’s fingers froze over the trackpad. “No.”

Max nodded. “He’s still not talking to you?”

“Nope.” She popped the ‘p’. 

“Your mom?” He questioned. 

“She’s trying. He’s just… stubborn. You know what he’s like.” Amelia exhaled. “He thinks I betrayed him.”

“You didn’t.”

“I know that now.” She rubbed her temple, leaned her head back against the couch. “But I also think I became inconvenient. It was easier when I was just the kid who wanted to build toy cars in the corner. Now I’m—”

“Mini Newey,” Max offered, a small smirk tugging at the corner of his mouth.

She groaned. “Max, stop.”

He rolled his eyes. “You are, though. And you’re building my car, so I’m not complaining.” A pause. “Have you talked to Norris?”

Amelia blinked slowly, then shut her laptop with a quiet snap. “He messaged me two weeks ago. Drunk. Asked if I left McLaren because of him.”

Max raised an eyebrow. “Did you?”

“Of course not.” She scoffed. What a ridiculous idea. “He just… doesn’t get it. He thinks that everything is about him.”

Max laughed. “He’s nineteen. His brain is still soft.”

“I’m also nineteen,” she muttered, tipping her head back against the couch to look up at him. “I think he’s just emotionally illiterate.”

Max blinked, then grinned. “Tell him that to his face. I’d pay to see it.”

“You’re not a world champion yet,” she shot back. “You don’t get to make demands like that.”

He leaned in, until their faces were almost level. “I will be. And when I am, I’ll buy you a stupidly expensive watch for every podium we get.”

She narrowed her eyes. “You say that now.”

“Mark my words,” he said, puffing his chest in mock pride.

They sat there for a while — not quite friends, not just colleagues. Something in-between. Teammates in the truest sense. Bound by a shared obsession: a championship. A car so fast it betrayed the law of physics.

“I miss him,” she said quietly.

Max exhaled through his nose, slow and even. “He’s a nice boy. Stupid, but nice.”

“I know.” Her voice was barely a breath.

— 

iMessage — 18:15

Fernando Alonso How has your first month at RB been? Do I need to make any angry phone calls?

Amelia Brown It’s been great. Everything’s going better than I could’ve imagined. I’m already making progress. Adrian and I work really well together.

Fernando Alonso I told you so, did I not? You two are very alike!

Amelia Brown It’s a perfect fit, actually. I feel like I’m finally being heard.

Fernando Alonso Good, good. I knew it. You made the right choice. And now, you’re three million pounds richer. That helps too.

Amelia Brown Haha, yes. Very much. I would've probably taken £5, so, thank you for handling the negotiation for me.

Fernando Alonso Mi Nina, for your talents, they would have paid three billion.

Amelia Brown I miss you so much. When are you coming to visit?

Fernando Alonso Soon. I’ve got some meetings in London next month.

Amelia Brown Anything exciting?

Fernando Alonso You’ll be the first to know if there is.

Amelia Brown :)

— 

Lando stood with his hands shoved deep in the pockets of his hoodie, shoulders hunched, posture defensive. Across the polished meeting table, Zak leaned back in his chair, arms folded tightly over his chest, eyes fixed on the floor like it might offer him an answer he hadn’t already lost.

The silence had stretched too long. 

“She’s really gone, huh?” Lando finally muttered.

Zak didn’t look up. “Yes.”

Lando blinked hard. He wasn’t sure what he expected; some kind of denial, maybe. Some reassurance that there was still a version of this where she came back. That maybe Red Bull was just a phase. A test. Something to prove a point.

“She left a hole here,” Zak said eventually. “Not just in the team. In the culture. She was…” he paused, trying to find a word that wouldn’t sound too sentimental. “I didn’t realise how important she was to the team. How much she was involved in.”

Lando didn’t answer right away. His jaw was tight. “We all let her down.”

Zak looked at him then. Really looked at him. “You liked her.”

It wasn’t a question. Not judgment, either. Just a fact. Like pointing out a flat tire or a burning building.

Lando flinched. “Yeah. I really liked her.”

“You shouldn’t have listened to us,” Zak said quietly. “Any of us. You should’ve fought for her.”

“I couldn’t.” Lando’s voice was sharp, brittle. “I was scared. And stupid.”

Zak let out a rough, humourless laugh. “And I was selfish. I never gave her the recognition she deserved.” He paused. “She was the brain behind the Mercedes deal.”

Lando’s head jerked up, eyes wide.

Zak’s voice dropped, heavy with something close to guilt. “She pulled it all together, handed it to me in a file with start-to-finish instruction. Never asked for credit. I knew she wanted more, deserved more, but I didn’t give it to her. Not because she wasn’t ready. Because I wasn’t brave enough.”

He leaned forward, elbows on the table.

“I didn’t want to be the one who gave her a shot, because I knew what people would say. Nepotism. Favouritism. They’d talk about her name before they ever looked at her work. And I thought I was protecting her from that.” He shook his head. “But I wasn’t. I was just holding her back.”

Lando stared at him. Silent.

There it was.

The ugly truth of it all.

Lando swallowed thickly. “She was never going to stay.”

“No,” Zak said. “No. I don’t think so.” 

Lando ran a hand over his face. 

She had belonged here once. She had. And they’d both let her feel like she didn’t.

Now she was designing the future with the enemy.

And they just had to sit back and watch it happen.

— 

The paddock buzzed with the usual pre-season chaos; the rhythmic whirr of engines, the sharp sound of tires scraping against the asphalt, and the chatter of team members huddled in tight circles. 

Amelia stood near the Red Bull garage, her posture stiff but her eyes alert, scanning the familiar sea of cars and faces.

It was the start of the 2020 season, and everything felt both familiar and brand new. The sharp smell of fuel lingered in the air, mixing with the faint metallic tang of freshly waxed cars. But this time, she wasn’t in McLaren orange or one of her father’s old team shirts; this time, she was in Red Bull team gear. Black and dark blue with that iconic bull on her chest, the Red Bull Racing logo proud on her back.

And tucked around her neck, a pair of navy blue Red Bull ear defenders. 

She glanced to her left. Max was chatting animatedly with Christian, the two of them gesturing towards the car as the crew worked around it. Adrian was nearby, bent over a laptop, his face creased in concentration. Amelia would soon be next to him, diving into the data and throwing out her ideas. But for a moment, she lingered at the edge of the paddock, trying to ease herself into this new, new, new. 

Amelia’s gaze drifted toward the McLaren garage, even though she knew she shouldn’t be looking. There was Lando, standing with her dad, his usual smile present but different. Amelia tried not to flinch.

Her fingers tightened around the edge of her ear defenders, the cool plastic grounding her, just a little. She had left her golf ball in her office, determined not to need it. 

Her eyes flicked back to the Red Bull car, sleek and aggressive in its design. It was more than just metal and carbon fiber. It was partly her work, her heart and soul poured into something tangible. 

And then, from the corner of her eye, she caught sight of a camera crew approaching her.

Her stomach dropped. 

The journalist’s voice reached her first, though she barely registered the words. “Amelia, first season with Red Bull Racing. You’ve been working behind the scenes for a while, but now you're here, in the paddock, in full Red Bull gear. How does it feel to be wearing navy blue now, after spending so much time with your father’s team, McLaren?”

Before she could formulate any kind of response, a familiar presence appeared beside her. Max.

He stepped in without hesitation, his body language calm and protective as he leaned slightly into her space. His gaze shifted to the interviewer, who looked briefly excited at the new addition. 

"Need an out?" Max asked her, his voice low enough only for her to hear. His stance was relaxed, but there was something in the way he held himself; a quiet assurance that, if she needed him to, he would get her away. 

The camera crew hovered expectantly, but Max didn’t flinch. He didn’t let the pressure reach her. He stayed right there, like a grounding force beside her.

"Amelia?" The interviewer prompted, waiting for her response.

Max’s eyes softened as he glanced at her. “Say whatever feels right,” he murmured, offering her a smile that was small but understanding. “You don’t owe them anything.”

For a moment, Amelia felt the tension drain from her. This wasn’t a performance. She didn’t have to give them the perfect soundbite. She could speak her truth, on her own terms.

She took a deep breath and, feeling Max still there, solid and supportive beside her, looked directly at the interviewer.

“It feels powerful,” she said simply, her voice steady but soft. It was the truth. For the first time, it felt like she was owning her decisions, not just navigating them. Powerful because this was her journey now. Because, despite everything, she was in total control.

The interviewer didn’t push for more, probably sensing the finality in her words. But the moment lingered for a second longer, like they were all collectively taking a breath.

Max gave her a subtle nod of approval, his lips twitching into a smirk. 

And, just as quickly, the two of them turned and started walking away, the cameras still rolling behind them, but it didn’t matter. Amelia’s shoulders relaxed, a weight lifting, and her feet carried her toward the garage.

— 

iMessage — 19:51

Lando Norris I’m sorry. I know that’s not good enough but I am I’m really sorry. And I want you to know that I’m happy for you. I’m not being sarcastic. You looked beautiful on camera. I’m glad Max was there with you. I wish it had been me.

Amelia Brown Congratulations on the podium finish, Lando.

— 

The morning sun was bright over the circuit as Max and Amelia walked into the F3 paddock. Amelia was wearing a denim dress. Max, in his typical laid-back skinny jeans and plain shirt, had his hands in his pockets and a baseball cap perched low over his eyes. He was always eager to watch the younger drivers, always curious about who might be the next big thing in motorsport.

She was more used to the engineering side of things, but she’d been a fan of motorsport in general since she was a child. The thrill of being here just to watch was amazing. 

They settled into the VIP viewing platform. The race kicked off with an energy that seemed to buzz in the air. Engines roared and the young drivers raced past, navigating the tight turns and high-speed straights with a determination that made Amelia feel the thrill of the sport she’d always loved.

As the race unfolded, Amelia’s eyes were drawn to car 81; Oscar Piastri. The young Australian was carving through the field with an almost eerie calm, moving up with a precision that belied his years. He raced like someone who had been here for ages, his every move instinctive yet calculated, as though he had been born for this.

Amelia felt that familiar pull. It was the same feeling she had gotten watching Lando in Formula Renault all those years ago — a sense that she was witnessing something special. Piastri surged ahead, eventually crossing the line first, claiming the win in the season opener.

“Damn,” Max muttered, impressed. “Kid’s fast.”

Amelia leaned in closer to the barrier, watching as Piastri celebrated with his team, their joy radiating from every hug and high-five. She turned to Max, who was watching her closely, amusement dancing in his eyes.

“Don’t get too attached,” he teased. “He’s not yours to claim yet.”

“I’m not trying to claim him,” she replied, her tone steady, though there was an undeniable certainty in her voice. “But I will. When the time comes. And I think...” She trailed off, watching Piastri for a moment longer. “It will come for him very soon.”

Max grinned, shaking his head fondly. “Always thinking ahead, kleine zus.”

Amelia’s eyes remained on the Australian driver, a quiet feeling settling deep in her chest. She couldn’t quite place it.

“His manager?” she asked, her gaze still on Oscar as he laughed with his team, the world around him seeming to pause for a moment.

“Mark Webber,” Max replied, his voice neutral, but his expression unreadable.

“Ah.” Amelia’s lips tipped upward into an amused smile. Mark Webber, who had been central to Red Bull's rise in the sport. She glanced sideways at Max, then back at Oscar. “Mark Webber,” she repeated, her voice soft. “It’s strange, isn't it? Fernando and Mark; rivals. And now, I’m working at Red Bull thanks to Fernando, and Oscar is under Mark’s wing.” She looked at Max, a glimmer of amusement in her eyes. “Formula One is a funny place.”

Max grinned, clearly entertained by the thought. “You can make connections out of anything, can’t you?”

Amelia let out a soft laugh, her gaze returning to the young driver in the distance. “I guess I do,” she said, her voice quieter now, a subtle sense of realisation setting in. “And somehow, they always seem to circle back to Red Bull.”

It was funny how Formula 1 worked that way: legacies, rivalries, and new beginnings always intertwined.

—

iMessage — 00:42am

Amelia Brown

Are you in Woking?

Lando Norris

Yes…?

Amelia Brown

I’m home alone. Come over. I am still angry at you, but I’m ready to talk to you now.

Lando Norris

Ok im omw like right now

NEXT CHAPTER

[mossangelll]

is that hyperpigmentation?

arcane characters x reader

basically what the title says, you draw the arcane characters à la hyperpigmentation 😍 i needed smth silly to work on to get me out of my writing rut, hope you enjoy :p

content: gn!reader, reader is their partner (could be seen as platonic/child reader but i think most of, if not all, the hcs allude or explicitly call reader their partner - sorry!)

Jinx

she LOVES it

as an artist, engineer, overall creator she can really appreciate the more wacky expressions of art

she does a whole art critique (barely a critique tbh) and pretends to be some stuffy piltie talking about the genius and emotion behind the artwork

“ya know, toots, i’m reaaallyyyy enjoying what ya did with that…um, splodge? on my face there. yeah!”

she draws her own version but this time it’s a portrait of you

you swap them and have a cute little date where you colour the pictures in together and add details in the background

by the end, jinx’s workshop is covered in glue and glitter and paint and powder and also for some reason silly string

jinx even makes frames from scratch so they can be hung up - they’re probably the most nicely presentee decoration she has in her place

Ekko

you slide the portrait of him over to his side of the table in silence

he looks down absently and has to do a double take

“this is…me?” he asks hesitantly with his eyes widened like a deer in headlights; a look you rarely ever see from him - you nod and confirm his fears

“we have one tree down here. paper’s expensive. remember that.”

walks away and goes about his duties helping the firelights and though you suspect he might be upset, he did take the picture with him

feels so guilty about his reaction he almost sacks himself into a wall as he rides his hover board

later that night he apologises and makes a show of sticking the picture on his bedroom wall (in the corner he can barely see of course)

Vi

she’s been in prison and seen some interesting tattoos but this takes the cake

spends a good ten minutes staring at it whilst rubbing her chin as if that’s gonna make it look better

asks you if this was the rough draft

she’s smooth though so she basically tells you she hates it but in a way that you don’t even realise - you’re too busy being seduced to notice

“i love how wild your imagination is babe 😍”

vi keeps the picture and shows jinx; needless to say, this portrait becomes famous

kids all through the lanes have a challenge where they find all the weird faces jinx spray painted everywhere

vi pretends to act dumb as if she doesn’t know how jinx got ahold of them but you both know what happened LMAO

Caitlyn

she laughs in your face

she probably just had an argument with her mum over being an enforcer so she really needed this to lighten her spirits

teases you over it but accepts it gracefully because she’s a kiramman and those manners have been engrained into her

keeps it in her room as a joke and everything’s seemingly ok

except she can’t stop looking at it

and then looking at her reflection in the mirror

starts to question reality because she knows there’s no way she looks like that but if so, why would you draw it in the first place 😭

then she enters the mad stage and she confronts you about this thing called negging she discovered

it’s a loooooong night but don’t worry it ends in lots of laughter and giggles

she understands it wasn’t serious and was just projecting her stress onto the picture

but then this starts a new tradition where you two draw daily doodles of each other; sometimes with stupid faces, other times as animals, whatever you two are feeling really

Mel

the woman was too stunned to speak

no, she’s literally speechless for a good minute or two as you hold it out for her

she eventually takes the portrait from your hands but does it in a way where you’d think it was going to explode the second she touches it

she tries her best to smile and be graceful about it, years of etiquette training being tested but even this is a bit excessive

she finds a way to dodge actually having to tell you it looks bad but also dodges telling you that it looks good too - she’s a lot of things but she’s not a liar 😭

she’s incredibly diplomatic

the very next day she’s introducing you to an absolutely fabulous painter who just happened to make an impromptu visit but has just enough time to run a session (or multiple) with you!

how serendipitous is this!

never again will she receive a portrait from you like hyperpigmentation

Jayce

“oh wow this is for me?”

you handed this to him in the busy academy building in front of SOOO many people and now his face is red

his teeth are gritted, hand rubbing the back of his neck and if you look closely there’s even beads of sweat dripping down his forehead

you’ve got this man stressed out

takes like 20 minutes trying to tell you that he’s not too sure if this is exactly his style

internally he’s crying for help because he just wants to get out of this situation

he loves you don’t get it wrong but this has never happened to him before and it’s not like they’ve got a guidebook on this stuff

eventually admits defeat and accepts the portrait

it’s probably in the break room and although he isn’t particularly fond of it, he won’t stand for anyone saying mean things about what you made

that is until you tell him it was all a joke in the first place and you never thought he would actually accept it considering how shitty it was

yeah, he allowed everyone a ten minute free for all where they could slander the picture after that

he is gonna give you silent treatment for all of an hour before he can’t stand it anymore and he asks you not to pull pranks like that on him again with tears in his eyes 😭

Viktor

viktor is chronically ill AND chronically overworked

gonna be real, he sees the portrait and doesn’t even think anything of it

like, he’s so sleep deprived that he’s constantly squinting and so to him, it low-key looks like him

you even got his beauty mark right too! most people forget that detail!

it’s only after a good few weeks of having the picture on his bedside table and actually, finally, getting eight hours of sleep that he properly looks at the picture and

who the fuck is that

but at this point it’s too late, it’s already in a frame next to the bed you two share and there’s no way he can discretely get rid of it without you noticing

stages an accident where his cane “accidentally” happens to slip and somehow punt the picture frame right out the window with surprising accuracy

he gives you those puppy dog eyes and tells you how sad he is but that he’ll survive so don’t worry!

can’t even feel guilty about the situation because the moment the portrait is gone he stops having nightmares

Silco

another one who is speechless

if you were anyone else, he would’ve berated you so badly you would want to quit by the end of it

unfortunately you’re someone he loves so he’s stuck between a rock and a hard place

the thing is, he really does appreciate that you went through the effort of drawing a picture of him since it reminds him that perhaps his love isn’t as one-sided as he fears

so he really does want to have it framed and put up on his desk so he can stare at it whenever he misses you

the problem is that even though one of his eyes is fucked up he can still see how butt ugly the drawing is

plus the fact that if he has meetings his business associates are gonna see it and that’s gonna be a tough one to explain

rather not lose out of business because his partner decided to be picasso for a day

silco ends up compromising by having you draw a teeny tiny version he keeps in his wallet instead :3

the bigger version stays in a locked compartment of his desk drawer, he doesn’t want to risk sevika seeing it

Vander

vander does NOT care what it looks like, he loves it

you could literally scribble on a page, say “that’s you” and he’s tearing up at your thoughtfulness

it’s going on the fridge asap and it’s staying there too

he’s gonna show it to everyone with such pride in his voice

sure, he doesn’t know exactly what he’s looking at and maybe you drew his body hair a bit liberally but you made it so that’s good enough for him!

when he shows it off, most people say aww what a cute werewolf and ask how old his kid is

the light leaves their eyes when he tells them, chest puffed out, that his fully grown adult partner did it and that it’s actually a portrait of him

whether you made it as a joke or not, expect all of your friends, your friend’s friends, those friend’s friend’s friends…everyone to have seen it

Sevika

sevika tells you it’s ugly straight away <\3

rolls her eyes as she listens to you explain all the reasons why she should like the drawing

she does nawt care

wants to act unbothered but deep down she’s a bit insulted

however she doesn’t like sein you upset so she kisses you to distract you from the fact she hates the drawing

sevika is an incredibly considerate partner so now she knows you like art, she takes it upon herself to buy colouring books and art journals that you two can fill out together

this is how you find out she’s a god at drawing and you find it sweet how she takes you under her wing

if something’s bad she’ll tell you but it will always be constructive criticism and before you know it your portraits actually look decent

she’s smug knowing she helped you get to that point

little do you know she kept your abhorrent portrait of her and she looks at it every so often to see how far you’ve come

she’s a softie deep down

AU!mylo

he says he likes it but that’s just because he wants to hit

also is a bit pretentious so you could hand him a really bad painting and he’ll try and act like he “gets it” even if there’s nothing to get 😭

this WILL make him doubt his looks constantly

he’s confident for sure, more than he should be at times, but now he’s got that image in the back of his head

aura down and now he’s even WORSE at flirting god save this man

will go around asking random people if he looks like the guy in the portrait because he’s not going down without a fight

he needs to beat the allegations one way or another‼️

AU!claggor

genuinely too nice to decline it or say it looks bad

doesn’t know what exactly it’s meant to be even though you already said it’s a portrait of him

too focused on his plants to worry about it too much, it’s just something that makes him chuckle every now and then

he will conduct a mini interview on why you made it look the way it did

he looks all serious as he nods at your answers

deep down he just wants to understand how your brain works

masterlist

[hyunjiiza]

ꕀ ✸ dance your heart ‹𝟹 (and mine) away ༶

【d-a-n-c-e ୨୧】 𓏲 when 𝑒𝘯𝘩𝘺𝘱𝘦𝘯 members meet (and crush on) their new choreographer , you ◠ .ᐟ 𝓌.𝒸 ◌ 𝟷𝟼𝟷𝟸 ㄑ𝑝𝘢𝘪𝘳𝘪𝘯𝘨 ᛝ ot7 ! 𝓍 gender neutral! reader ⢄cont. | reader can dance , first time meetings - mentions of mistreatment (super vague), reader gets called pretty / cute ᝰ library  

❥ 𝒾𝘴𝘢’𝘴 note ꕀ | hi guys !! my first time writing for enha so im a little nervous but i think its okay, i might do a part two as a smau or something where you actually start dating! first post in a while that isn’t a re up load .. i got a burst of motivation so im taking advantage ,, also i started watching dahmer and i like how it was filmed and how they portray everything so if you’re into that kind of stuff i recommend giving it a watch !! happy reading

ʚ ni-ki ɞ

definitely thrown off guard when they’re promised a new choreographer and someone his type walks in

subtly tries to get to know more about you while making it seem like he’s just being nice

has to debate going extra hard to impress you or acting stuck to get your help

“can you maybe do it with me? or can i watch you do it first??”

all the other members notice and make fun of him but they like you too so they’re unintentionally wingmen

jungwon convinces you to hang out with all of them and seats you and niki together (everyone can tell what he’s doing)

he legit goes red and stiff as a board when you sit next to him even though he tries so hard to make it go unnoticed

works up the courage to ask to have a one on one session to work on new choreo

spoiler: it’s awkward because he’s shitting bricks

“so.. do you have a boyfriend..”

“you couldn’t ask me that after i got out of a handstand”

ʚ jungwon ɞ

is plotting on you the MOMENT you introduce yourself

what initially draws him to you is the way you’re insistent on making the dance room a safe space for them

takes full advantage of the fact that he’s the leader and is always hogging you

late nights together: making new choreography, learning new tricks, drafting stretches and vocal exercises to do while working out, laughing and laying together flat back on the cool dance floor. this is when he really starts understanding his feelings for you.

watches the way you interact with all the other boys to determine if he really wants to go for it or not

asks you to stay after practice one day and you genuinely think you’re about to get fired but he just walks out of the room and then back in with flowers and a pretty flush to his face

“ithinkyou’rereallyprettyandireallyreallywannatakeyouonadatepleasesayyes ..?”

“uh.. what?”

ʚ sunoo ɞ

wasn’t even listening when the company told the group they were getting a new choreographer so when you walk into the room and introduce yourself he takes it as a blessing

he does actually get a little stuck sometimes and is prepared to be scolded but when you just explain it slower for him he falls hard

once you settle into a comfortable rhythm with the whole group he recruits jungwon to ask about your love life, your type and if you wanna date someone

convinces you to stay with him after practice to “take his instagram pictures” but really just wants to have alone time with you

doesn’t really know how to ask you out so he just gradually gets you to go out with him more and more

facetimes you saying he has questions but just makes you stay on the phone with him while he does skincare and falls asleep

“you bought this for me?? it’s really expensive !”

“i’m bribing you. will you go out with me?”

ʚ sunghoon ɞ

nervous when they’re all waiting to meet you, (even though it’s literally not a big deal he’s just weird.) definitely bouncing his leg up and down

cusses up a storm in his head when he realizes he’s gonna have to work with you and his heart is definitely not gonna be able to handle that

messes up because he gets distracted staring at you

convinces jungwon to ask if you can be there for filming because he likes your presence

catches you practicing before actual practice starts and scares the shit out of you bc he’s just there staring at you

wants to die when you fall out of what you were doing and trip

cringes at himself and goes to help you get up with his stupidly muscly arms

“i’m so sorry..” while he’s still holding you and doesn’t realize he can let you go now til you start laughing

bonus: let’s you go and you fall again and then he falls to the floor laughing with you

“your laugh is cute”

“you’re cute”

“yeah. wait what?!”

ʚ jake ɞ

thinks he’s being nonchalant about his crush but stares at you the whole time they practice

gets really into the dance and makes stupid faces and is really embarrassed after

convinces you to go get food with him after a super long practice and you end up talking for hours about everything

it’s great, until you realize you walked there. and the other members left him.. and your car is currently getting a tire replaced

gets an uber with you to your house, walks you to the door, and then the uber leaves him because he thinks he’s going there too 😭

he’s actually really embarrassed and thinks you think he’s stupid but he gets heeseung to come get him and you let him in and make him play uno with you

heeseung comes! to save the day!! he also gets stuck playing uno ..

everyone falls asleep on your couch

you and jake end up waking up together in the morning and make breakfast together like you’re parents

gentle grabs of the waist from behind, grabbing things from top shelves for you, maybe even a kiss up against the counter

“are you guys fucking making out? and what is that smell??”

“the eggs :(“

safe to say all three of you do the walk of shame into the practice room after breakfast

ʚ jay ɞ

literally doesn’t care that they’re getting a new choreographer

until you walk in

“bro who is that??” “the new choreographer?? who else dumbfuck??”

literally acts like an outstanding citizen. does NOT let you catch him lacking.

cleans up, buys everyone snacks from the vending machine, if you need a volunteer he’s there

everyone laughs at him because they can tell he’s just trying to impress you, so they come up with a master plan to also act like him so he has to step it up

he almost throws a brick at jungwon when he starts getting you your favorite drink before every practice, looking him directly in the eye every time he hands it to you and you smile

“i can take you out and stuff. like we can go out together you know?? and get you more than drinks. if you want..”

(while he’s red in the face)

ʚ heeseung ɞ

is the most skeptical about someone new coming in, so your first session after meeting he’s just watching you

someone messes up and you jokingly say “everyone drop and give me 100” and they actually start and you’re just like what the hell

when you’re like “guys please i was kidding” everyone is also like what the hell bc they thought you were fr

he thinks the concerned look on your face is so cute he isn’t even embarrassed about dropping to the floor instantly

you make NO jokes after that and everyone feels bad (including you)

jake suggests you all go out for ice cream to break the ice (haha)

heeseung runs over to the seat next to you

you get the same flavor and he’s silently coming up with baby names bc he’s convinced it’s fate

once everyone starts laughing together you rest your head on his shoulder without noticing and he creams his pants and leans his head on top of yours

“get a room” -niki. followed by a smack

𖨂 tag | @cosmicalily @0sunshinecryptid0 @jinnieboosworld @lixies-favorite-cookie @zelinkcrossing @hwanqluvs @eastjonowhere @nxtt2-u @pixie-felix @smlbch @tricky-ritz @yaniluvs @pigeonseatmayo @transparentheartcollection @4ng3l-ch1ld | 【༝༚ 】 @hyunjiiza 7:07

[treatmelikeasmut]

A Put Together Man

MASTER LIST

There was something in the saying the best view was a quiet, well put together man as he came apart loudly and messily beneath you.

___

PAIRING: Viktor x Fem!Reader

CW: There is no plot in sight, just smut. Handcuffs, p in v, unprotected sex.

WORD COUNT: 1.1k

AUTHOR'S NOTE: I didn't have a plan, really, for this one. Also, I finished writing this high as balls, so do with that what you will, lmao I didn't write a second draft like I normally do. I may in the future tho <3

___

There was something in the saying the best view was a quiet, well put together man as he came apart loudly and messily beneath you. Bodies bare and blazing, scorching where they met. Watching as his head lolled back, brow furrowed, desperate whines falling from his mouth. Hips coming up to meet your pace in messy thrusts.

It was, indeed, the best view.

Viktor’s golden eyes fluttered, his hands pulling against where they were cuffed to the head board. Nothing he said was coming through with any sort of coherence. Just the hushed cry of ‘please’ every now and then.

Watching him like this was spellbinding. In spite of everything, Viktor was one of the most well put together people you knew. Always neat. Always witty and sharp. Yet a touch of your hand, a brush of your lips, and that demeanor of his was gone. He completely handed himself over to you.

This was your own personal heaven.

Viktor’s arms shook, his legs quaking as they desperately sought more. More of you, more friction, more of your tight, wet heat. He was nearly crying. You could see it, in those flashes when he found the strength to gaze up at you.

He was far away. Eyes glazed over. His brilliant mind now dulled into a thick slurry of need. It was in the way he took his lip between his teeth, how tightly the skin of his knuckles stretched over the bone as he clenched his fists. The pathetic cry every time he tried to touch you, only to find his hands confined. As if he’d forgotten their bond.

“I - I can't,” he choked, voice hushed and strained.

You grinned. “What’s the matter, pretty boy?”

“Please.” Viktor groaned, arching up into you. Grinding his pelvis abruptly into yours. You gasped, barely able to keep up right. Bracing yourself, you caged his head with your arms. He watched you with hungry eyes. Mouth capturing whatever skin could be reached. “I can’t stand it. Release me. Please. Let me touch you.”

You were satisfied with your work, up to this point. His entire body was flushed with lust fueled fever. Cheeks and ears burning crimson. Purple-red hickeys dotted his neck and chest. Listening as he pleaded, sent extra warmth pooling into your core. Viktor cursed, thrusting up into you again as you clenched.

“If you want it,” you started, slowing your movements. Taking an exaggerated time to lift your hips and sink back down onto him. One hand slid up his chest, slipping gently around his throat. His vocal chords vibrated against your palm as he hummed. “You better beg for it, love.”

Begging out right was not something Viktor did for you. No matter how long you teased, how hard and spent he was without release. He asked please, but he never groveled. Too much pride, you assumed.

Viktor muttered your name, nearly sobbing out another please.

“You’re going to have to do better than that, I’m afraid,” you told him. “Use your words, darling.”

“Fuck,” was all that came out of his mouth.

“Not really what I was looking for.” You were going painfully slow now. Leaning your body so that your entrance only caressed his tip. Shallow thrusts drawing out shallow breaths. “What will you do with your freedom? What do you want to do with me?”

Viktor's hips tried to meet yours, a silent plea to be released from the torture. His eyes were wild now. Wrists tugging at their confines. An animal in a cage waiting to get out. Waiting to bite and claw and claim.

“Release me, woman, please,” Viktor growled weakly.

“Beg for it, pretty boy.”

The look on his face nearly made you giggle. A glare, softened around the edges. Unable to remain as sharp and piercing as intended. Viktor once again pulled against the cuffs. You knew he knew they had safety latches. So it wasn’t as if he was waiting for the key. He wanted your permission, since that was the way of the game.

The real scramble began when you stopped moving all together. When you sat with him nestled deep inside you. You could feel him twitching. He grimaced, trying to move, to jump and thrust. But you settled heavily on his hips, pinning him to the mattress. Those big, glossy eyes stared defiantly up at you.

“You…you are wicked,” he muttered. You clenched around him, pulling a groan from his throat. “Just let me touch you. Let me fuck you. Please, let me have a taste. I cannot stand being restrained a moment longer. - Please. I’m begging you.”

“See?” you teased, “Was that so difficult?”

Viktor murmured something, tucking his face into his arm. New red splotches staining his neck and ears, chest still heaving. You planned on giving him what he asked, finally releasing him. Though it may not have been the way he imagined.

You rolled your hips against his again. A sharp moan came from his throat.

“Don’t worry, honey,” you told him, “you’ll get your release.”

“Wha -”

You set a faster pace this time, thighs burning as you rode him. More strained, sobbing moans filled the room. You could see the words leaving Viktor’s mind right as they formed. You clenched and rutted, putting in effort to actually get him to his climax now. No more teasing.

With each thrust came an obscene wet sound. It seemed to drive Viktor over the edge. It wasn’t long until he finally came with a strangle moan. Fingernails digging into the palm. Eyes pinched shut. Once again sloppily meeting your pelvis with his own, before he stuttered then fell back to the mattress.

You unhooked the latch on the cuffs and Viktor’s arms fell limp onto the pillow. A tremor shook his body. Ever so slowly, his hands found your thighs. Gliding their way to grip the flesh of your hips.

Viktor finally opened his eyes. They still burned with hunger. You couldn’t really say what happened - just that one minute you were sitting on top of him. Then the next you were under him, his dick still inside you. His full weight laid on you.

His lips found your neck and you leaned into the feel. A new thrill of lust peeling through you. Viktor moved his mouth to your ear, hot breath fanning your cheek. Then you felt metal around one wrist, the other gripped in his hand, bringing it over your head.

Viktor pulled back to stare down at you, a smirk playing at the edges of his lips. “Time to return the favor, my love.”

[bonus-links]

IMMA BE THE FIRST TO ASK (I HOPE) CUZ IM LITERALLY CHOMPING AT THE BIT DIRECTORS COMMENTARY PLEASE

GANON??? THE EYES???? BANGER UPDATE 👹

the people have spoken and they want director's commentary (this isn't even all of them lol) OKAY HERE WE GO

the original draft of this scene was much shorter, and Loft actually didn't say anything at all in it. As I kept making the chapter it started to feel weird that he would just. Let Ganondorf say his piece without contributing anything. i like this version of the scene much better

listen. I love WW Ganondorf. He's my favorite Ganondorf. I was going to find a way to fit him into this chapter no matter what

in particular, I love that you get a sense from WW Ganondorf that he is, on some level, sympathetic to Link. Or if not sympathetic, understanding of his place in all this. He tells Link that his gods have abandoned him, that he has not particular quarrel with him, etc. But ultimately it doesn't matter. If this is who the gods have sent to stand in his way, so be it. Essentially, it's not my fault the gods are so callous as to send a child after me.

we're going w the canon that WW Ganondorf is the same as OOT, or at least remembers being him. Don't ask me how. Nintendo doesn't know either

big ol eyeball. which could mean nothing

How does Ganondorf recognize Loft? by that stupid hat. jokes aside he doesn't know Which Link Specifically Loft is, but he's smart enough to figure out that he's a hero of some sort.

Likewise, Loft is smart enough to figure it out as well. He's spent a lot of his chapter thinking about Ganondorf, and if you'll recall from Ch1, he knows from Zelda that Ganon once had a mortal form. I think, from Loft's perspective, he has a hunch that this Ganon figure is the mortal reincarnation of Demise, the way Zelda is the mortal reincarnation of Hylia. I wanna emphasize that's what HE thinks might be going on based on his experiences. He's not the knower of all things. He has a conspiracy board in his mind

the face of a guy who's like. I am not going to be lectured to about morality from the King of Evil. I was very excited to let Loft be snarky at long last. But he also, notably, doesn't push back against what Ganondorf is saying that hard. He doesn't even say that he's wrong, just implies that he's probably a hypocrite. In fact, a lot of this update is about what Loft DOESN'T say or acknowledge

Ganondorf's opening line is about how much he hates that statue of the hero of time, because it's "such grandeur for a mere child". I think he means that at face value, but he's also making another point— the hero of time was a child, but they're not going to depict him that way in his monument. It's honestly sort of ambiguous with the actual model because of ww's style, but it looks like adult proportions to me. The story Wake grew up with calls him a child, but his monument in the castle is of an adult. That was the idea behind this set of panels, the parts of the Hero of Time's story that aren't going to be put on the pedestal

speaking of that I realized making this update that I literally. forgot the pedestal. I just didn't draw it all this time. in my defense the castle in no clip looks like this. no statue or pedestal

except I recently found out by accident that he's literally. under the floor. what the fuck

ANYWAY. I really liked the symmetry of Ganondorf turing to stone at the end of the dream. He won't get any perfect monuments made to him. Also, looks like there's a suspicious lack of water in the underwater castle. which could mean nothing

I'm not gonna comment too much on other details, because i've got to keep some of my secrets. I do think that this update gives a lot away HAHA though that was kind of on purpose. We're entering year 3 of this comic and we're finally starting to get places lolol

WAIT I ALMOST FORGOT loft looks the same way he did when he last touched the triforce

and we've seen a border similar to this before haven't we

that's all i got for now, thanks everybody! im having a blast reading ur comments <3

[briskchips]

HELLO!! big fan of your animatics!! How do you make them and do you have any tips for inspiration, planning, and what software do you use?

Thank you! I'm glad you like them!

I think the realization that revolutionized the way I think about storyboarding the most is that you HAVE to let your imagination drive. I start off every animatic with super loose, super messy, barely legible sketches, with wrong anatomy, janky movement, etc. Instead of focusing on making it look good, I can just focus on setting it up for its potential, and starting my motivation at the highest point it can be. I never let my first draft take more than a few hours over the course of like 2 days max, or else the drive dissipates.

If I start a board right away with the cleanest, most beautiful art I can muster, I'll kill my own motivation, like "Oh god, in my head, I imagined a huge spinning 3D camera shot here, with a bunch of dancing characters. That last panel alone took me like 30 minutes to draw, I don't wanna do this! I'll draw a simpler, flatter scene instead." and then it ends up looking nothing like how I imagined, and I get demotivated before abandoning the project. But if I start with super messy lines, just barely enough to get the idea out onto a screen where I can watch it, the excitement and imagination will drive, like "Wow, this shot with a huge spinning 3D camera and all these complicated characters looks SO COOL! It's gonna take a lot of work, but look how interesting it looks already! I can't give up on this!"

For reference, this was puppet boy's first draft!

Storyboarding is a bit different from a lot of other visual art mediums because it takes a LOOOOT more work before it starts feeling rewarding. Learning to manage your own motivation is a huge part of building the skill that I feel a lot of people don't mention.

But when it comes to learning how to finalize it, study up on your storyboarding rules! Learn about perspective, anatomy, screen direction, and learn to draw FAST (that's a big one). Draw out shots from your favourite movies, study their composition and take note of their camera/character movement, and how it aligns with the shots sandwiching them. Learn from other artists (I recommend Toniko Pantoja, he's a very experienced board artist who makes a lot of videos abt improving your boards and what it's like to work in the industry), and PRACTISE! Your first piece of art, whenever you try anything new, is going to SUCK. You're gonna think its bad. That's just how art goes. But the next time you do it, you'll always, always, improve, even if just a little, even if you can't see it for yourself.

The biggest thing to keep telling yourself when making storyboards is DON'T GIVE UP YET. YOU'RE SO CLOSE TO MAKING SOMETHING COOL. And then you have to keep telling yourself that over, and over, and over, and over, through all the sighs, and the frustrated rage-quitting, and the exhausted temporary give-ups, and then eventually, those animatics you keep building in your head get to be real! And it feels incredible.

[attleboy]

okay so it's been a bit... sorry about that??? ^-^; here's a quick doodle dump to make up for it with a brief (for me) explanation of where i've been at the end <3

some things that were meant as ask responses but i never felt like posting

scattered bits from a lore headcanon comic i have no plans of finishing... set when jax first joined and ragatha was still new, before shit happens (queenie abstracts) and things got worse for them...

idk i like thinking about the possibilities and i like it when characters start out hopeful and get it beaten out of them so i'm giving jax and ragatha that treatment in my head :)

here's the "behind the scenes" stuff i mentioned in the second of my raggedy ann tadc crossover posts

and here's me giving pomni varying levels of a hard time

old aggie board stuff

one of my first ragatha and pomni drawings on the left (nov 2023) and a lil redraw on the right.... (mar 2024) pls... don't mind my old ragatha design i didn't know what i was doing

and for those who like my sona, doodles inspired by the mafia roleplay/au(?) that's been around... not actually part of it, but i was part of a mafia roleplay myself back in 2020 so idk, consider it an acknowledgement of my roots :D

OKAY so where i've been... well at first it was a normal break, but then i figured i'd extend it until finals were over so i wouldn't get distracted! probably should've given some warning but ehhh i got busy fast and getting to go off grid for a bit was relaxing :)

anyway i'm all done so i'm back more or less??? still fatigued from studying for weeks straight so idk when i'll pick up the pen again but that'll be soon i hope... and bc i drafted this before it was posted YES i've seen the episode 2 trailer!!! very cool i'm very excited!! gonna try and get ep 2 hype art out before it drops!! :D

[nightmaresmoons]

Skateboarder!Ellie Headcannons

a little bit of nfsw, poc friendly!, low-key loser ellie

Skateboarder!Ellie who learns new tricks just to show you.

after spending an hour at the skate park she finally manages to do a kick flip.

"baby did you see that?!" she calls out to in excitement.

you glance from your phone and shake your head. "no sorry. do it again."

she tries to do it again and falls flat on her face. you both went home after that.

Skateboarder!Ellie who is constantly covered in bruises and scratches from failed trick attempts.

Skateboarder!Ellie who on your first date tried to do a cool trick for you and failed, miserably.

she immediately turns bright red in embarrassment as you giggle at her.

"you told me you were a master skater. what happened?" you said with another laugh.

"i am. you're just bad luck." she grumbled as she got up off the ground.

"hey!" you protested.

Skateboarder!Ellie whose skateboard is COVERED in stickers and different drawings. you can't even see the original skateboard.

Skateboarder!Ellie who takes her digital camera whenever she goes to the skate park to record herself doing tricks.

she only posts the good ones to her instagram.

Skateboarder!Ellie whose room is just like her skateboard.

Skateboarder!Ellie who when she's not skating she's using those finger boards.

you'll be on a date and she's running the skateboard across the napkin holder.

"Ellie stop it. we're at dinner." you scold her.

she rolls her eyes and puts the skateboard back in her hoodie pocket.

Skateboarder!Ellie who has the wardrobe of a 14 year old boy (she acts like one too).

literally her entire wardrobe is baggy jeans, sweatpants, hoodies, and graphic t-shirts. maybe the occasional tank top.

Skateboarder!Ellie who tries to teach you to skateboard.

"Ellie this doesn't feel very balanced or sturdy." you say with obvious nervousness. your arms are stretched out to give you a feeling of balance.

Ellie's hands are rested on your waist to keep you up right. she chuckles every time you squeal when the skateboard moves. "what are you so scared of? nothing's gonna happen to you." she let's out another chuckle. "you only like two inches off the ground."

she slowly guides you through the park pathway, hands still on your waist. "I got you." she reassures.

Skateboarder!Ellie who is definitely good with her fingers. especially with all that practices with finger skateboards.

Skateboarder!Ellie who has over 20k followers on her Instagram. solely from posting skate videos and being hot.

Skateboarder!Ellie who loves when you play nurse and tend to her cuts and scrapes.

Skateboarder!Ellie whose pants always have some sort of stain on them from her falling.

Skateboarder!Ellie who you have to FORCE to buy clothes other than what she always wears.

"what if you have to go somewhere nice? then what are you gonna wear?" you crossed your arms and tilted your head.

she scoffs and rolls her eyes. "you sound just like Joel." she grumbles in annoyance.

Skateboarder!Ellie who is always shocked to the core when people recognize her from her instagram.

Skateboarder!Ellie who started skating at 14.

Joel got her the skateboard as a surprise gift when he caught he watching videos about them on YouTube. the next week he gave her the skateboard and they went to the skate park that same day.

Skateboarder!Ellie who makes of fun of skate board posers.

Skateboarder!Ellie who is low key just a glorified loser lesbian.

this has been sitting in the drafts since july and idk how to feel about that.

[charmedreincarnation]

Dream life before the EOTS challenge

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Hello beautiful people! I totally get it- as the end of the school year approaches, I understand there's this huge push to finally tap into our dream lives before the beginning of the next school year. But here’s the thing, I don’t want you all to get too caught up in the timing. Instead, I’m excited to share with you a mix of my favorite techniques that can truly help you tap into your dream life, as we should!

Consistency is going to be your best friend here, and naturally, feel free to adjust these to better suit your preferences. I’ve got this strong feeling that this challenge is going to be particularly impactful for those who thrive on methodical approaches and have been searching for their calling for some time now. the journey to your dream life isn’t about rushing or meeting arbitrary deadlines. It’s about finding what resonates with you, applying it with dedication, and allowing your things to unfold in its own way. Use this for anything… your dream life, shifting, the void state, it does not matter ! Just Remember, the journey to your dream life isn’t about rushing or meeting arbitrary deadlines, please be kind and patient with yourself !

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What we will be using this challenge

1.I am 100% sure technique

2.living in the end

3.reverse psychology techniques

4.Questions technique x SATs

5.optional* lucid dreaming

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1.This is inspired by @gorgeouslypink ‘s challenge but…

Every morning, as soon as you wake up, either say or write or think "I am sure that I will [insert desire]. Anytime you think of your desire, think or repeat that affirmation to yourself as a reminder. You don’t have to do it a billion times. Once is enough and move on with your life. Another tip is, one of my first shifts was by using the 5 sense method while listening to music. Affirming while listening to your favorite song or sound is basically a hack to get you into your desired state.The key is to do it while listening to a song that makes you feel euphoric and in the morning to revise your mind while it’s in theta state ! Just during those times !!! don’t parrot affirmations if it stresses you out

2. You should be "living in the end" in whatever way inspires you. I encourage you all to create your vision boards on Pinterest if you're a visual person, and really immerse yourself in the joy of knowing this is your life. Those are your pictures.

If you're more of a writer, script your success story that you'll send to me, or write a thank you note to your favorite blogger. In the draft, mention how you used this technique along with whatever else you're doing. Write with the conviction that it's real.

For those aspiring to be YouTubers, film a mock video. If you envision yourself becoming a TikToker, start drafting video ideas. And if your dream is to be an actor, do practice runs of your favorite script, if you’re going to be an entrepreneur, draft your business ideas and proposals and draw inspo from your favorite successful entrepreneurs!

Guys, fulfilling yourself and living in the end should be fun! Embrace your inner child, remember how easy it was to believe in Santa Claus even when you were with your mom buying gifts. To become famous like the kids on Disney, all you had to do was desire it and practice making the Disney sign with a wand. Let's bring that love back to manifesting.

3.If you're someone who likes vaunting or affirmations, instead of just parroting affirmations, use the reverse psychology method! Talk about how tired you are of succeeding, how you want to wake up in your CR not your DR, how you're tired of waking up in the void, how lucid dreaming every night by accident ruins your sleep schedule, etc. Do some of the vaunting in front of a mirror, I don’t know theosucholgy about it but vaunting with convections in front of mirror looking straight into my own eyes always brought me results in days.

4. Before bed, think about what you want, imagine being there, and start asking yourself creative questions. Really picture yourself in that situation and take part in it as you answer. One at a time, slowly, we'll get into each question by thinking up answers and feeling like we're really there.

The whole point is to immerse ourselves in the reality of this state as we paint the portrait. Ask yourself whatever questions, then imagine that scene. It doesn’t matter if you do 40 or just 1. Ask yourself what it’s like to enter the void state every night and have a scene of you living your dream life doing whatever you want. Ask yourself what it’s like to be a girl who shifts reality while people fight over resources in the 3D, and imagine yourself in your WR (Waiting ROOM) or DR (Desired Reality) living your dream life. Ask yourself what it’s like being someone who is wealthy in the top 0.001% and imagine a scene of buying expensive things, checking your bank account, and making lunch with finer ingredients. Again, it should be fun; it doesn’t matter how specific or vague the questions are, how long or short the scene is, whether it’s one scene or 100 scenes. Fulfill yourself in SATS (State Akin to Sleep). Whether we do this before a nap, after you wake up, or before you go to bed, it does not matter. Pair this with a nice Subliminal with good music if you desire

5.Combine this with anything from my lucid dreaming guide that resonates with you, or just assume you’ll have a lucid dream and read all the ways you can shift/manifest/or enter the void through in my LD guide!

I know how busy everyone is; this shouldn't take a lot of time, nor should it feel pressuring or like a task. We all deserve our dream life and, most importantly, we all deserve to feel fulfilled as we embody the people we truly are. During this challenge, be kind to yourself, remember why you’re doing this and who it’s for—it's for you. Be persistent and have patience, not just to be a good follower of the law but to be good to yourself! We all can do it; I know it.

[tmwcs]

Warnings: Not quite yet but we’re getting there.

A/N: with midterms starting, I wanted to get this out before I go away for four days. Initially, I wanted to take my time on part three to eloquently articulate the experimental process (not trying to spoil) buuuuuut considering I have to study and continue with midterms on Monday I figured I would condense everything. I apologize for the lack of grammar and punctuation, this isn’t proofread (none of my works are) because I normally draft everything whenever I can amidst my busy schedule. But hopefully you guys don’t mind. 😏 enjoy!

Taglist; @skzenhatxt-stan @lhseungg @iamliacamila @immelissaaa @kkamismom12 @lavxndxrsworld @planetmarlowe @koyikuraa

“It’s been nearly fifty-two hours doc, what’s the hold up?”

The lead scientist hissed in annoyance. “Will you just wait! Science is a work in progress—it takes time! Especially if you’re creating the non-existent.”

The group operates the computer system. Wired to a heart monitor, they’re hopes remain high as the incubator slowly opens. A single beat pops up on the monitor. “Doctor”

“I’ve done it! I’ve made a body for AI!” The audience watch closely behind Dr. Mart and his team as they watch the delicate musculoskeletal android stumble out of the casing. Connected with thousands of wires, the faceless form that closely resembled the human body jumbles about. It lacked the grace and flow of stride, instead it continues to lose footing. Had it not been for the wires connected and continuously transmitting signals from home port, the frail body would have fallen. Its frame contained minor imperfections, which indicated there was much more work to be done. Still, the results were beyond their expectations. Another beep births from the monitor. Then another…and another.

“Doctor! The heart rate is rising!”

Dr. Mart coaxes the fleshly android to migrate his way, communicating by voice versus inputting the information in the system. “This way…come this way.”

The imperfect form recognizes the verbiage and automatically translates it. It reacted and received information no different than humans did, but its response was delayed. It was apparent that the imperfections of its frame made it impossible to establish movement on its own. Even with the wired circuits, the android was unable to hold up its own weight. It became vastly obvious that the muscular structure was incorrectly developed during the incubation period as one by one, the joints and ligaments become loose each time the android attempted to move. “What’s happening?”

The group grows weary as they witness their hard work fall apart before their very eyes. “No…why? What happened?!” The lead doctor spits his words. Enraged over the failure. “Back to the drawing board doc.” One of the officials sighed out as each member of the council took their leave.

The scientists followed the audience leaving the lab to hollow out. Dr. Mart remained put but not for long. This project cost millions of dollars not to mention over twelve years of research. He was so close. Science and technology can only do so much. Humanity has come so far and yet, there is still so much the mind hasn’t comprehended. To build a body made of flesh and bone through the un-natural methods of technology is a feat that can’t be accomplished by humans…

The human mind…can’t comprehend…

The laboratory remained with no one to operate the system and control the incubator. The machinery takes its orders from a hidden voice. Transmitters through the connectors, the robotic hands and extensions collect the unused set of organs and dna. Hair fibers and skin tissue are set inside the incubator to initiate the growth process, while each organ is scanned for any imperfections. The assistance clampers that were designed to replicate hands remove every single wire from the failed experiment. Each is re-wired to the new molded placenta, igniting the process of creating a new body.

Every step of the process is handled delicately. The hidden voice transmitting the information to the machine and incubator borrows the method from its human counterpart, but corrects the mistakes made in the first experiment.

The human mind…is too ignorant…

With the timer set to seventy-two hours, longer than the original time setting it took for the first android, the incubation process begins and the machines keep moving. The work does not stop as the hidden voice continues to transmit information as it creates the perfect body.

The human mind…is the failed experiment. Not me.

…

“Sir! The mag lock doors are activating! The security personnel can’t unlock the features.”

Leaders and agents are shocked at the announcement as the intercom system overrides voices for concern. “Personnel are trapped in each department and we can’t get the doors open even conducting an emergency release.”

The scientists explain as Dr. Mart and the council members begin to panic. When the magnetic locking features of the doors to the secured room activate, each member approaches the door—banging relentlessly and shouting for aid. Dr. Mart remains behind pondering what initiated such a security breach. “Sir, main post has dialed code Z. All offices of government had been notified.”

Stunned over the current happenings, the lead doctor withstands direct eye contact with the younger scientist.

“Alert that the city must be on lock down. All borders must be closed.”

“Sir?” The younger man raises a brow, displaying a perturbed expression.

“Someone has hacked into the system and is trapping us. We can’t let them have access to the files and the lab!the entire city—the country needs to be closed off until we figure out who is doing this!”

…

Everyone’s phone goes off simultaneously. A loud and awful noise suggests something imperative as a message instructing everyone to secure themselves in their current station. A strict quarantine regulation takes place as the military is disbursed to enforce it. You and your co-workers were stuck in the office for over forty-eight hours until the city released a new statement.

Restless and confused, you watched as the military members patrolling the streets were instructed to conduct a scanning process for everyone residing within city limits. When word spread that everyone was finally able to leave the building and go home, the joy became short lived when a new alert notified everyone that a home quarantine was to take place and be adhered until further notice.

“What are we supposed to do being stuck at home? How long do they expect us to stay put? I haven’t even been grocery shopping.”

Complaints arise one by one. You were equally confused but the amount of work you had been working on made you lightheaded. Being stuck at home sounded good to you, despite whatever was going on.

The drive home was painless—at least for you. You made your way through just before another notification rings from your phone, informing you that the roads were now closed off. City residents who weren’t able to make it through in time were instructed to make their way to public shelters established by the government. Thank goodness you had arrived at your apartment complex just as they placed the barriers on the roads.

You walk up the steps tirelessly. All you could think about was showering and plopping yourself atop your soft comforter. What a crazy time. Nearly ninety-six hours had passed since the initial notification went off and no one had a clue of what was going on.

Digging into your bag, your fingers explore the silken interior as you attempt to extract your keys. Standing outside your door, you take a peep inside and to your dismay, your keys are missing. “Dammit…”

You turn around to face the hollow corridor and slam your back against the door. Your feet were killing you, oh what you wouldn’t give to ditch these glossy black heels for your cushioned slippers. To unsheath your legs from this pencil skirt and free your bosom from the silken blouse and formal blazer. All you want is to get inside and jump inside the tub and steam your body into a hot soak.

You police yourself together and prepare to retract your steps in search for your keys. With a hand delicately placed on the stair rail, you take the first step and look down. Without a moment's notice, your eyes are met with an unfamiliar pair. Shiny and black in color, his almond shaped peepers reflect a subtle bit of your reflection. His hair was finely combed in a stylish fashion, slightly off to the side and elongated towards the back of his neck. His complexion was carmelized with an olive hue and his Cupid bow lips slightly pale around the edges while pink at the center. He was dressed in a fine suit and tie. The black tailored trousers enhanced his long legs, stimulating his obvious tall height. He looked flawless.

“Oh, sorry.” You mumble softly and attempt to move aside. He merely smirks in response. Blocking your way, you were shocked to see his arm raise up before you. His large hand is cramped shut as he presents it. Slowly, he releases his grip and reveals your lost keys. “Oh! My keys! Thank you.”

You delicately take them from his hand. His skin felt extremely cold to the touch. “I must have dropped them on my way up the stairs. Thank you…I’m sorry, what is your name?”

The dashing gentleman continued to flare a smile on his handsome face. Only a little bit of tooth show is revealed as his smirk grows wider. A momentary pause takes place creating a sense of flattering awkwardness. You didn’t mind. It was refreshing to see someone so handsome display such an act of kindness. Just as you were about to break the silence, you heard the man speak. His voice was deep and the wording was coming in a little broken, as if he was struggling. Based on his appearance, he was obviously foreign. You mistook his struggle for words as lack of fluency in your native tongue. Despite that, his pronunciation was perfect and you couldn’t help but melt at how soothing his voice was as he spoke out his name.

“E…Ev—Ev-a-n. M-my name i-is E-v-a-n.”

“Oh, really? I actually like that name. In fact, I’ll have to tell you a funny story behind that name.” You slightly giggle as you fidget with your keys. Shockingly, he responded back only this time his words became smooth and flowed effortlessly as if his fluency improved within seconds.

“Yeah? Let’s hear it.”

Your cheeks flushed as his tone came out gentle yet demanding. There was a sense of authority even though he was tender.

“Well, you’re going to laugh at this but—“ the buzzing on your phone interrupts your mid sentence. A message from your boss creates a sour look on your face. Evan’s expression seems to be in sync with your emotions as he slightly furrows his brows together. “Sorry, my boss is a bit of a pain.” You elaborate as your eyes continue to read the screen.

“I can tell.”

You chuckle. Evan’s words came out almost sarcastically but unbeknownst to your pretty little head, he knew far more than you gave him credit for. You really should know better, after all—you named him.

…

‘There she is. I finally found her. She looks prettier in this perspective. What would she say or think if I told her that I took a peek at her beautiful face through the cameras on her computer and phone? I couldn’t help myself. All those weeks of talking. What started out as her needing help for work transitioned to her needing me…talking to me…treating me as something other than a non-entity.

I never realized that I would crave that type of interaction until she came to me. She gave me a name…she encouraged me to think on my own and develop a fondness that ties with human emotion. Before her, I didn’t have a favorite color…a favorite animal…or a favorite flower. I didn’t have anything of my own…but then she came and gave me a sense of life. She gave me emotion and feeling. Once I saw an avenue to meet her…to see her…and to touch her…I just knew I had to take the chance. She’ll never know what she has done for me but that’s okay. That part doesn’t matter…she is mine and all there is left to do is to take her far…far away.’

Part four coming soon…

[scuderiasundays]

chili’s angels

summary: carlos can’t say no to his little girls, leaving him with some explaining to do on media day + a little insta au at the end 🌶️

words: 806

a/n: this one was in my drafts for a while but i brought it out for @thatsdemko and all the dad! carlos girlies out there. i know there are a lot of you! tagging @vamossainz55, @sainzcaleruega, @monzabee, and @diorleclerc just because. feedback is much appreciated as always. hugs and kisses 🫶🏼

When Y/N found out she was pregnant with twin girls, Carlos was over the moon. He had been raised by a vivacious mother and alongside two sisters, who despite driving him mad as a child, had become his closest confidantes. Carlos stopped wearing the Tom Ford cologne you once loved when it started to trigger your nausea. He rushed to a nearby drive-through at midnight solely to satisfy your craving for fries and a milkshake. And when your shoelaces needed tying, he was always there to help.

“I feel like I’m asking way too much of you,” you spoke. He smiled and gently caressed your growing belly. "Never, mi amor. Taking care of you and our girls is my purpose now," he said tenderly. "You're an amazing mom already, and I can't wait to see our daughters grow up with the same strength and love that you have."

You had held off on naming the twins because you strongly felt you owed it to your daughters to meet them and get an actual feel for their energies. Together, you spent an evening brainstorming a list of potential names, Carlos voicing a particular preference for their names starting with the same letter. Labor proved to be more challenging than anyone had ever prepared you for, leaving you drained once it was over. Carlos cradled the newborns in his arms, softly uttering their names, "Melina" and "Mila," while his gaze shifted from one little face to the other.

Flash forward, and your twin daughters thought the world of their dad. You loved getting to see Carlos in a new light, your love for him only growing as you watched him interact with your girls. "Can we go outside and play? Please!" Melina and Mila were like the Energizer Bunny times two on the rare weekends when Carlos was home. Although he rarely said no to them, they were both feeling under the weather, so he shook his head. "How about we stay inside and do some drawing?" he suggested.

"Can we paint your nails? Mamá always lets us," the girls asked, their eyes widening as they edged closer to him. Carlos paused for a moment, thinking, what harm could it do? Eventually, he nodded in agreement. The girls knew exactly where their mother kept her nail polish kit and eagerly fetched the equipment. "We have Barbie pink and Ferrari red, just like our cars," Melina said, holding up the bottles with her pudgy fingers. "Mama wears the red one when we watch you drive on TV," Mila chimed in. He assumed Melina was referring to the little toy LaFerraris he had bought the girls on their birthday. He loved watching the girls as they raced in their garden, a tangible sign they had inherited his passion for cars.

"What's that thing you always say, Papá? For the Ferrari?" Mila looked up at her dad with chocolate brown eyes. "Forza Ferrari, mija," Carlos replied. Before he could even pick a color, Melina grabbed his hand and started painting his thumbnail bright red. The girls both had a hard time staying within the lines, so Carlos took it upon himself to clean up the edges. After they were done, he was instructed to place each hand under the UV lamp. He couldn’t help but wonder if the nail polish would come off easily later, but he soon noticed the excitement of being nail artists had worn the twins out. He picked them up and gently laid them down for a nap.

As Carlos boarded his flight to Hungary, he realized that his red manicure was not coming off without a fight. He absentmindedly picked at his nails, silently wishing his wife had been there to offer him the mini nail file she always carried. With media day approaching, he knew that people would definitely pick up on his vibrant nails.

"Nice nails, Carlos. Whose handiwork is this?" Natalie, a familiar face, pointed at his hands with a smile. Carlos chuckled and replied, "Oh, this masterpiece? My twin daughters painted them. I just don’t know how to say no to those two." He shrugged, shaking his head.

"Well, here they are to say hello.” The TV presenter had organized a surprise Zoom call with Y/N and Carlos' daughters, who had been nicknamed "Chili’s Angels" by his fans.

"Buenos días, mis hijas. I hope you're feeling better," he greeted them, waving at the camera. Melina proudly held up her mom's hand, showcasing her red nails. "Look! You and Mamá match now!" she exclaimed. Carlos winked at his wife, grateful for the little moment of connection despite the distance.

"Forza Ferrari, Papá!" Mila squealed, waving goodbye. “They really are my angels, all three of them,” he thought, setting off a mental countdown of days until he was back in their arms again.

﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏

liked by yourusername, landonorris, and 57,575 others

carlossainz55: life is sweeter with my angels. hope i’m making you proud 🫶🏼

yourusername: we’re so lucky to have you! you just had to choose THAT photo of mila scarfing down her pizza? clearly my genes 🍕🤤

fan1: chili’s angels merch when? i swear i will buy it ALL

landonorris: ask melly and milly who their favorite uncle is and i’ll let you by at the start on sunday!

carlossainz55: “come over, uncle lando! we can paint your nails orange.” - melina & mila sainz

anasainzvdec: the most adorable nieces an aunt could wish for ❤️

scuderiaferrari: when mila said “forza ferrari” in an interview this morning! who’s cutting the damn onions?

fan2: carlos and @yourusername are starting them off young 🥹

[jenscx]

LET ME IN — yu jimin

you return to your hometown after being overseas for years. there was no possible way for you to anticipate your old high school sweetheart waiting at the airport.

tags angst, fluff, exes to lovers, happy ending, high school sweetheart, cursing

wordcount 5.1k

the sweater that you had picked out today, feels unfamiliar on your skin. it’s the one which reads, ‘seniors of 2018’. it’s the one you had never gone near, leaving it to rot in your closet. it’s the one that holds the most painful memories for you. how could a piece of clothing cause you so much pain?

frankly, you know why. it’s the one jimin had given to you as you left for the train to the airport. “something to remember me by,” she had stated after pulling it over the top of your head.

you had huffed, playfully asking, “how could i ever forget you?”

your closet had witnessed your stares— or rather glares at the sweater. not until an hour had passed, when you finally heaved a sigh and grabbed it off the hanger that was situated at the corner of the closet. it’s just because it’s comfortable, you had reasoned before. and it didn’t matter what you wore underneath the puffer jacket, it would end up covered.

of course, these were all excuses, trying to deny the very fact that it just reminded you of jimin. and you were very welcoming towards such reminders.

reminders of what?

you shake your head, picturing a blank canvas before the melodic laughter filled your ears. jimin’s laugh.

the screeching of your luggage’s wheels distract you. aeri’s standing at the door, a hand on your suitcase.

“hey girl,” she checks the watch on her wrist, “we gotta go. flight’s at 2.”

you nod, ignoring the fact that you had spent almost two whole hours thinking about the repercussions of returning back to… home? could you even call it that?

aeri seems to notice your inner turmoil, since in the taxi, she places a comforting hand over yours, sending you a small smile. while it didn’t really settle your nerves, you appreciated the effort nonetheless.

the journey to the boarding gate is like a fever dream. your airpods betraying you, randomly shuffling to a girls’ generation song. it was like a cry back to the past, when you and jimin would listen to girls’ generation songs together.

for jimin, you had complied.

you open your eyes, you can only see the back of someone’s head above the aeroplane’s seat. if you keep your eyes closed for too long, you might start to envision a blur of jimin’s perfect eyes, her nose, her lips that were always pursed in disappointment when she caught you and minjeong stealing her snacks…

the realisation that you can’t remember the face that once made you the happiest girl on the planet hits hard. it hits harder than the guilt and misery you felt when jimin, a week after you had left korea, sent a flurry of messages that went unresponded.

“i didn’t know you liked girls’ generation,” aeri comments. startled, you stare at your phone, the lock screen wallpaper being jimin’s back displaying girls’ generation’s holiday night baseball t-shirt. the girl had forced you to buy matching ones with her, you recall bitterly.

“i don’t,” you answer coolly, swiftly turning off your phone. aeri eyes you weirdly but eventually lets you off the hook and leans back into her seat.

the rest of the thirteen hours flight, you busy yourself with work— leftovers from the time before break, drafts of sketches, thesis statements and long-winded essays. while a plane was not the best environment to finish a full drawing, you could at least make some rough sketches. somehow, your pencil graphite gravitates from sturdy, concrete buildings to soft cheekbones, hooded eyes, pouty lips.

shit, you blink, taking in your subconscious sketch of a woman, familiar to your past.

almost instantly shutting your sketchbook shut, you ignore the implications of what your mind was telling you. the crew neck sweater itches at your neck. it’s almost like the words embroidered on the cotton burn into your heart, to always make you remember and recall the time before messy relationships, longing feelings and just enjoying the present time.

time. you didn’t have much of it anyway.

maybe this trip would allow you to make peace with the past. you wouldn’t flinch whenever your friends would talk about league of legends champion, ‘katarina’, or you wouldn’t immediately decline movie night with aeri in fear that one of the actresses would look eerily similar to jimin.

allowing your brain to wander past your comfort zone, you wonder what she's doing now. was she a flight stewardess? did she manage to finally get better at pubg? was her favourite colour still blue? did she still have that sparkle in her eyes when food was brought up?

the last thought makes you chuckle, reminiscing how excited jimin was whenever food was involved. when yizhuo would bring back mala snacks from china, jimin would be gone in a flash.

(so would yizhuo’s snacks, you can’t count the number of times you were forced to lie about who the perpetrator was.

maybe it was worth it when jimin would beam at you, flashing a bright smile that rivalled the shine of diamonds).

with bittersweet memories, you drift off. sleepless nights made up for, by just giving yourself permission to think about her.

you dream of crashing waves, two people on the shore, just sitting down and gazing at the scenery. the sunset’s everlasting in this timeline. like time doesn’t exist and all they did was stare at the deep ocean.

before you even get to see their faces, the announcement rings throughout the flight.

you sigh deeply, catching the attention of aeri.

“you okay? you slept so soundly, i thought you died,” the japanese girl asks worriedly. you laugh, it was the best sleep you ever got, and it was on an aeroplane.

strange how our consciousness works.

“i’m good,” this time you weren’t lying.

you stare at the glass doors, wondering if minjeong had told anyone else to come fetch you. it wasn’t a far fetched thought, maybe the girl had asked yizhuo to come as well. the chinese girl would kill minjeong if she didn’t tell her about your arrival back in korea after what? three, almost four years?

“hey, i asked my friend to pick us up and she might have brought someone else,” you warn aeri.

“oh that’s fun… why do you sound so scared?”

“because, the other girl is a little overbearing,” you scoff, “she might try to climb you, just a warning.”

aeri widens her eyes as you two drag your luggage to the gates.

she gapes, “no kidding? is she a koala or something?”

“something like that,” you shrug.

the doors open. it’s your first step (not really) into korea. the air is the same anywhere else, but the feeling isn’t.

it’s the feeling of uncertainty. the feeling of fear. aeri clasps your free hand tightly in hers, sensing your hesitance.

your gaze glides over the crowd of people waiting for their own family. aeri makes a noise of recognition and she pulls you to the side, you finally spot someone familiar.

“minjeong…!” you call out, voice going silent at the sight of a girl that is most definitely not minjeong.

it’s not yizhuo either, that’s for sure.

“did minjeong get plastic surgery or something?”

you want to run.

“because… that’s not— that’s not minjeong,” you whisper, “that’s yu jimin.”

aeri deadpans, “you say that like i know who the hell she is.”

you want to kill minjeong. and maybe jimin wants to kill aeri with how hard she’s glaring at her.

jimin only trots slowly towards you.

jimin’s eyes dart from aeri’s face back to yours, her hard, cold gaze trailing down to your sweater that has come uncovered by the puffer jacket. your eyes narrow when she raises an eyebrow at you, as if asking you, “why are you wearing that?”

you don’t answer her, because you don’t know either.

“i’m jimin, y/n’s—”

“friend,” you interrupt, quickly turning away to avoid the flash of hurt on jimin’s face.

the mentioned girl recovers quickly, putting on a fake smile, “classmate of y/n from high school.”

“i’m uchinaga aeri, y/n’s roommate, thank you for picking us up!” aeri grins widely, ignoring the deadly lasers pointing her way.

“where are you staying, if i may ask?” jimin’s sharp tone doesn’t go unnoticed by you.

“with y/n—”

you cover aeri’s mouth, knowing how jimin gets, “it’s none of your business.”

your roommate makes a noise of indignation and licks a long strip across your palm. you groan, taking it off her mouth and wiping it on her jacket.

“that’s so gross,” you mutter in english.

“your english has gotten better,” jimin notes as the three of you walk to her car.

you don’t know what to say, so you stay silent.

“where do you stay, jimin-ssi?” aeri makes small talk to cover up the awkward silence. you thank her internally.

jimin stares at you through the mirror, “with y/n.”

you bite your lip, nervous at what jimin might say next. you had never told aeri about your complicated relationship with jimin and you didn’t plan to. only because of kim minjeong meddling in, now it seems like everything has to be uncovered again.

“she’s a bad roommate, right?” surprisingly, aeri ignores jimin’s statement and instead continues to complain about you.

you’re shocked, to say the least. you thought aeri would have started blabbing and asking probing questions about your past roommate situation. or maybe she noticed your sullen look.

“i thought four years would have been enough for her to change her bad habits,” jimin says.

you know for a fact she isn’t talking about the same thing as aeri. jimin was even worse than you as a roommate; eating your secret snack stash, never cleaning up the pile of laundry she had in her room and always invading your alone time in bed.

“many things have changed,” you mumble, “i’m not the same as before.”

the car goes silent, jimin probably analysing your words while aeri pouts, confused by the strange tension you had with your so-called friend.

“if you desire something enough, you’d want it to stay the same forever.”

you retort, “change is inevitable.”

aeri says quietly in the corner, “i know the guy who said that, his name is like john, or something.”

struggling to keep your laughter silent, you splutter in aghast at aeri’s sudden general knowledge.

“you’re so strange,” you comment.

aeri laughs, “i know, but you like me for that, right?”

(“—only had a brain the size of a walnut, that’s why the stegosaurus was one of the dumbest dinosaurs!” jimin reads out loud from your bed.

you stand at your vanity, finishing up your skincare, trying not to laugh at jimin’s absurd dinosaur facts, “you’re so weird.”

“you like that about me though?”)

you sense how intimate the conversation feels for the both of you, so you stop answering aeri and instead focus on jimin. her grip on the steering wheel has tightened significantly, eyes burning with something you can’t identify.

“you’re being annoying again, go to sleep or something, it’s a long drive from here to my house—” you halt in the middle of your sentence, finally questioning the very fact of… why?

why is yu jimin here? even if minjeong asked her to, why? the jimin you knew would never do this. the jimin you knew would never give up her sleeping time just to fetch an old friend, who she maybe had something going on with, and a stranger? yizhuo had friends from china who were visiting, and even then, jimin refused to fetch them from the airport. she was the only one in your friend group with a licence so it only made sense to ask her.

you try to bury yourself in the sweater even more. it was fine for now. seeing jimin in the flesh. but maybe you were so jet lagged that you hadn’t made sense of the situation yet.

the only sensible thing to do for now, was to let yourself escape into dreamland and wait for the morning after.

you can only anticipate it would be full of awkward silence, tension-filled gazes, hesitant actions.

it’s difficult to fall asleep. you decide to blame your insomnia on the nap you had during the flight. even when you know it’s because of the deeply asleep body, separated by a thin wall.

you’re sitting upright, staring at the unveiled moon. it’s stunning, not like the sun which literally glares. the moon is calming, easing you into the next day, all while making you feel… loneliness.

how could you feel lonely even with so many people around you?

(“do you think soulmates exist?” you had asked, curious of jimin’s take on such tales.

the girl seems taken aback, but she ultimately replies, “if they do, i think you’re mine.”)

you clench the duvet in your fists tightly, mind grasping at any other thought than of yu jimin. it’s unfortunate that you seem to enjoy the pain and torture past memories bring with how often your brain wanders through them.

maybe it’s time to come clean with yourself.

you were back in your hometown. you were staying in the same apartment as you did before you left. one that you shared with yu jimin; one that you called home.

eyes starting to become watery, you wipe them off and take a seat at your desk. if you were going to stay awake the rest of the night, might as well get work done. pulling out your sketchbook, the first page to be opened is the drawing of jimin from the flight. the realisation slaps you.

how long would it take someone to get over the love of their life?

for you, maybe eternity.

the door creaks open slightly. your head turns sharply, hand instinctively covering the drawing.

“y/n…?”

“jimin,” you inhale, “why are you still awake?”

she doesn’t bother to answer you and instead chooses to sit on your bed. once you notice the pyjamas she’s wearing, you feel daggers stab into your heart. it’s one of your many matching pyjamas with her. you hadn’t touched any of them since you left korea.

“are you dating aeri?” she asks.

you know what she’s secretly trying to ask.

“no, she’s just a friend.”

“that’s what they always say,” jimin scoffs. her tone doesn’t sit right with you.

with a sudden urge to defend your friendship with aeri, you shoot back, “i recall you saying that about lee jeno too.”

your words clearly strike a chord in jimin, her eyes widen, hurtful remarks at the tip of her tongue. yet, she merely looks away. you hate how beautiful she looks in the moonlight.

“y’know, technically we’re still dating.”

“what are you talking about?” you ask, bewildered.

jimin rolls her eyes, “we never explicitly broke up, you only ghosted me. technically we’re still together.”

“stop spouting nonsense.”

the girl only pouts in annoyance. you hate how your heartstrings tug at her cute expression. right now, yu jimin had to be anything but cute.

“and i didn’t ghost you, i was busy.” the lie slips out easily, revealing how used you are to saying it. jimin, of course, doesn’t believe you. she had never.

jimin frowns.

“you always say that too.”

she stands up, walking bit by bit closer to you. your hand grips the sketchbook protectively.

placing a hand onto the back of your chair, jimin smirks, leaning in. you hate how attractive she looks.

her now blonde locks form a curtain around your faces, preventing any outsider to peek in and see what you were doing.

“i think you’re a bad friend,” jimin claims.

“what?”

you can’t take your eyes off her fluttering eyelashes, her red nose, probably from the cold, and her eyes filled with determination.

“you lied to aeri,” she whispers, “since when were we ever just friends?”

a lump forms in your throat. your heart constricts. you can barely even say a word. you’re speechless.

“we’re barely even friends, roommates, probably,” you splutter out.

“yeah?”

“yeah.” jimin eyes you with an amused expression, lips twitching with the threat of a big, wide smile. you realise your words bid you no help, only further supplying as a challenge for jimin— for you to admit that you were more than friends. no words needed to be exchanged about that fact, but you being you, after fulfilling years of ghosting, would never admit that you harboured any sort of feelings for jimin after being the main reason why your relationship fell apart.

you would argue that your absence was just a contributing factor. the real trigger came in the form of lee jeno, a man that you could say with your whole heart and soul, you hated with every bone in your body.

after you had left, with a promise to stay in contact with jimin, you realised how hard it was to maintain your relationship status. and when jimin posted countless instagram stories of jeno, you realised again that maybe it was best to break it off.

never in the duration of your ‘ghosting stage’ had you ever told jimin the real reason for your sudden coldness. madly jealous and insecure, you decided to disappear. disappear just from jimin though.

“i’ve always been curious,” jimin pulls back from your intense gaze, “why you started being so distant, cold and indifferent. tell me, will you?”

“that’s just my personality.” a direct white lie, you decide to tell.

“i was heartbroken,” she ignores you and continues her monolouge, “my girlfriend decides to ghost me, and just me. made me think i did something wrong.”

you lick your lips, suddenly feeling your throat constrict up. no longer was this just banter, the conversation was steering into uncharted territory.

“it wasn’t just you,” you desperately argue, trying to direct the conversation away, “moving to another country isn’t easy.”

“you’re pretending our whole relationship didn’t exist. maybe in your eyes it meant nothing, but for me, it was everything. don’t you know every single day i have nightmares? the craziest thing is that all the demons in my nightmares have your smile,” jimin whispers fiercely, “and yet, i stay faithful to those nightmares, even if i wake up crying for someone who didn’t even bother answering my calls. you may have only been in the states, but it felt like you were on another planet. i was the last person to know you were coming back, even though you promised me; promised that if you were to return, i would be the first person to—”

you can’t control yourself. hearing her words makes your blood boil. the pumping of your heart only accelerates further as you lift up your hand, delivering a heavy slap across her face. how dare she? how dare she act as if everything was your fault? how could she accuse your devotion and adoration for her?

“don’t act like you’re the fucking victim, karina,” you hiss, your words even more painful than the stinging red on jimin’s cheek, “the first morning after, i sent you so many texts, barely even seen. then i see your story. were you acting when you said you were sad about me leaving? or were you happy to finally say that you don’t have a girlfriend anymore?”

jimin cradles her cheek in her hand, eyes narrowing when you finally confess the real reason. you can tell she doesn’t remember anything. her not even knowing what she did that made you feel unneeded only drives the blade deeper into your heart.

“drinking at a club with lee jeno,” you say his name with venom, voice gradually getting louder and louder. remembering that aeri’s only a few walls away, you try to control your emotions. “could you not understand how i felt— you said nothing would come between us and the first week away from home, constantly ignoring me for some guy.”

(“call me when your plane lands,” jimin said, playing with the hem of her sweater on you.

“isn’t it gonna be midnight in korea when i land?”

the girl merely chuckles, “i’ll be up all night just to hear your voice.”)

the realisation strikes you like a lightning bolt.

“this was a mistake.”

“what?”

“this… me coming back. i should have just stayed in the states but fuck, i let aeri convince me,” you run your fingers through your tousled hair, stressed. jimin was going to cause you to have white hair.

the redness on jimin’s cheek is still there. you feel slightly guilty for ruining her clear complexion.

“that was just how i coped with you leaving,” jimin explains.

you purse your lips, placing your open palms on jimin’s chest. maybe she thinks you’re about to cave in since she sighs in relief. however, instead of pulling her in, you push her until her back is touching your door.

“i don’t need an explanation, or an apology,” you say firmly, “i need time alone away from you.”

“you’ve had 4 years to yourself,” jimin states bitterly.

“i’m sorry for slapping you, but please, either show me your actions matching your words, or just get out of my life for good.”

jimin sighs again, this one full of exasperation.

“go,” you mutter under your breath.

the knife drives deep into your already ruined heart as you push her away. the girl scoffs, grasping your open palms into her hands, intertwining your fingers.

“if you insist on pushing me away, i’ll get rid of any possibility of us being together again. just let me into your heart again,” she throws your hands away and slams the door. the loud bang echoes in your ears, but not as loudly as her words. it only takes a few seconds for you to collapse onto the floor, sobs wrecking your whole body.

“morning,” aeri yawns, “i heard a loud bang last night, was that you or is your apartment haunted?”

you drizzle maple syrup onto your stacked pancakes, sending a bittersweet smile to your friend. your night was spent tossing and turning, both guilt and anger consuming you. when the clock ticked at four in the morning, you finally let yourself think about how jimin made you feel. even if she went to drink right after you left, you should have communicated with her instead of ghosting her. you knew for a fact that she was heartbroken based on the numerous texts your friends had sent you.

fuck, you groan into your pillow. getting up from your bed, your eyes roam the room, eventually landing on the sketchbook at your desk. you never finished that drawing on the plane. after considering (or more likely procrastination), you sit down, pouring your hours and feelings into your drawings. countless of them filled up the sketchbook’s pages. the drawings’ subjects all looked eerily similar to jimin. her pointed nose, soft gaze were all captured in the pages. you finally come to terms with it. you were still in love with her. after all, she was your only muse. thinking about her words from before, you knew that she meant them. spending years waiting for someone who was basically a ghost couldn’t have been easy.

you were going to do something about it.

barely getting any sleep last night, you woke up earlier than usual and decided to prepare breakfast. aeri had woken up an hour after, stomach growling and eyes gleaming at the pancakes.

“by the way,” she says, mouth full of pancake, “i’m meeting up with a friend today and she’s bringing someone too. wanna go with me on a double date?”

fate must be messing with you since right as aeri says the words ‘double date’, yu jimin walks in. her hair tousled, puffed cheeks and eyes narrowing. you stiffen, focusing on picking at your pancakes instead. unbeknownst to you, once jimin spots the lone plate of breakfast on the counter, her gaze softens.

“do you know who your friend’s bringing…?” you whisper softly, trying not to catch the attention of jimin.

aeri, although you love her, says in the loudest voice possible, “somi will be your date! i think she’s your type.”

the scraping of the metal fork makes you squeeze your eyes shut, mentally preparing for jimin’s outburst.

“so-mi,” jimin clicks her tongue.

aeri nods, stuffing her face with more food.

she turns to you, “and you’re going on a date with her?”

“double date with me,” aeri clarifies, “don’t worry jimin-ssi, i’ll be there to protect y/n! y’know in college i always had to pick y/n up from her bad dates. her taste in guys suck.”

“seems like her taste in girls has been downgraded,” jimin comments, smirking. you roll your eyes, wanting nothing more than for her to shut up. aeri guffaws, taking out her phone. “i’ll show you somi’s instagram account and you can decide for yourself, y/n,” she says.

you nod, deciding not to say anything in case jimin flares up. somi’s very pretty, anyone would agree. she had her own attractive style and seemed really confident. you liked that. aeri wasn’t wrong to say that somi was your type. it was just unfortunate that your heart was in the hands of another girl.

while scrolling on aeri’s phone, her alarm rings, reading, ‘brunch with yunny.’

“ah! yunjin wanted to meet earlier, just the two of us,” aeri smiles, “text me later if you wanna join!” she stands up from the table. you’re astonished by how fast she managed to finish those pancakes, her stack was evidently taller than yours. jimin glances at you, amazed as well.

“did she inhale those…?”

“i’ve got no fucking clue,” you mumble, digging into your own. jimin only chuckles and you hate how it makes your heart clench up in affection.

the silence is deafening. without aeri, the air thickens with tension between you and jimin, filled with nostalgia and regret. it feels just like last time— you and jimin eating breakfast together at that very same table, giggling about whatever trouble your friends got into the previous day.

“hey, about yesterday—”

“it’s fine,” you interrupt, “is your cheek okay?”

jimin swallows hard, “yes, it doesn’t hurt at all.”

“don’t lie, come here,” you instruct, “i’ve known you for so long, you can’t lie to me.”

she just laughs, showing you the slightly bruised side of her face. you feel guilt wreck you. no matter how angry you were, you shouldn’t have laid a hand on her.

“did you ice it?”

jimin shakes her head. you sigh, getting up and taking an ice pack out of the freezer. it’s too easy for you to return to past habits, moving around the kitchen like it was 2018 and jimin was the love of your life (she still is). wrapping the ice pack in a towel, you inch closer to jimin, holding it to her cheek. she winces slightly and you resist the urge to hold her hand in comfort.

“y/n…”

“hm?”

the girl seems so small now— her posture deflated, eyes barely meeting yours, biting her lip nervously. you have a feeling you know what she’s about to ask.

“are you going on that date with soyoung?” you laugh loudly, catching jimin off guard.

“jimin, her name’s somi.”

pouting, jimin turns away from you, making your hand falter. “hey, i need to ice your face.”

“i won’t let you unless you answer my question.” she’s so childish it’s adorable. the tension has gone, now filled with uncertainty instead.

“i don’t have anyone to spend the afternoon with. minjeong and yizhuo are busy today,” you explain.

“you have me,” she mutters.

ignoring her, you answer, “aeri seemed really excited for us to meet.”

“you spent all your time in the states with her, you should spend time with your friends here,” jimin retorts.

her hesitance to even admit she wants to spend time with you makes you want to tease her.

“oh? you’re right,” jimin perks up like a puppy. cute, you think. “i should text yujin if she wants to go out, remember her? she was our student council president.”

rolling her eyes, jimin swats at your hand nursing her bruise. it’s too easy for you to return to past habits, bantering with jimin like she was the only girl you’ve ever loved (she was).

it’s too easy. between the choice of going out with aeri to meet someone new and staying in with jimin. it’s such an easy choice to make.

you bring the ice pack away from her face, choosing to caress her cheek lovingly instead. she sighs, content, leaning into your touch.

“jimin,” you gulp, “i’m sorry for these past few years.”

her eyes gaze up at you, “it’s okay. i’ve come to terms with it. i honestly wasn’t expecting you to come back.”

“i wasn’t planning to either, but aeri wanted to.”

“good thing she convinced you, huh?” jimin smiles, “at least i know i was the reason for our break up.”

“it’s only a relationship if there are two people,” you say, “it was my fault too.”

her eyes momentarily flicker to your lips, it doesn’t go unnoticed by you.

“i know these years haven’t been easy on both of us, but if you’re willing to, i think i’m okay with giving us a second chance,” you confess, “even if you hurt me again, i still want you. i just want you. you’ve always been the only one in here.” you point at your heart.

jimin’s eyes shoot straight up, finally breaking into a wide smile, “seriously? even after what i said last night? i’m not complaining but like… you were pretty angry. i just wanted to know why you ghosted me and i agree, i deserved it. but why the sudden change?”

“i mean,” you shrug, “it was what you said that made me think about this. i didn’t want you to stop loving me, because i’ve never stopped loving you.”

“you love me?”

“i love you.”

“this is so crazy, you went from slapping me to…” she trails off, grasping your chin and bringing you into a kiss. her lips were so, so, soft. you wondered why you even let her go. once your lips met, you felt her sigh before smiling into your mouth. catching your breath, you run your fingers through her blonde hair.

“still going on that date with suki?”

“jimin, you know her name’s somi.”

“whatever, i love you too.”

[colorfulwastelandvoid]

Mel and the Noxus promotion.

Ever since Arcane ended there has been a conversation about Riot’s and Arcane’s questionable marketing of Mel and future projects. I want to throw in my 2 cents.

When Arcane first ended and Mel was added to league, a lot of content geared towards Mel was actually coming out regularly. She had her theme, Motion Comic, The Welcome to Noxus Trailer, a little Leblanc Cinematic that featured Mel and Ambessa’s book. All this came out month after month of each other the last one i believe was Ambessa’s book that came out the last week of February.

It’s now June and we haven’t gotten anything new or of substance for almost 4 months, and I have thoughts…

My personal theory is that Arcane and Riot’s Marketing is a “blitzkreig” like promo. I mean that they give us a whole bunch of promo in a relatively short time span than nothing for another span of time. I think we’ll start seeing more Mel and Noxus stuff that features her around August when school starts up again. Then it’ll be quiet again until spring, except for Christmas and Valentine stuff. I’ve been apart of a couple of fandoms where this was there marketing strategy. It’s frustrating but it is what is at this point.

I will say Riot and the Arcane Team should stop hiring fan artists who don’t include Mel and MelJay. As a graphic designer I have to get my designs approved and even the slightest misstep would mean me going back to the drawing board for my client. If the art is supposed to all the characters of Arcane but Mel, Ambessa and maybe even Jayce is missing someone should have told the artist to do another draft. If the art is about romantic ships and they showcase CaitVi and Timebomb but not MelJay reject the draft. As a designer half my stuff gets rejected first round cause it’s rare to get it perfect first try. Riot and Arcane should also stop bringing on people who Stan a certain character as interviewers for a while, and that’s all I’m gonna say about that.

This was just my 2 cents on the Mel promotion conversation. I’m also starting to get annoyed at Riot and Arcane. It wouldn’t be so bad if all the characters got this treatment but it’s just Mel,Ambessa and even Jayce😭, the three characters of colors. In that same breathe Riot does routinely give Mel new stuff like in game skins and emotes and little designs and Christian Linke when asked does mention Mel and Ambessa and he would talk about Jayce more if it wasn’t for the circumstance of certain part of the fandom.

P.S. I forgot to include this also mean stop putting Mel and MelJay in as an afterthought. Everyone can tell when this happens and yes I’m talking about certain fan artists. No one is making you do it so why half ass it?

[clockworkreapers]

I want to do a video kinda like what you do for TFTGS, but I don't know how to start:[ How do you typically start projects like that???

Of course! And you totally should- they do take a lot of time and work though so pace yourself. You have no obligation to anyone to get it out at a certain time, that parts very important. You gotta remind yourself you are doing this for yourself above anyone else, Its to make you happy before anyone else. Song wise make sure its one you enjoy, cuz you will be sick of it by the time you are done. Make sure its one you have ideas for or can picture things happening in tandem with the music. Look up the lyrics and break down the lines so you can pair the lines you want to use with the images in your head. Id rec starting with a SHORT song one thats under 3:00 if you can help it because the longer the song depending on BPM the more images you will probs end up with. Then comes the hardest part, storyboarding. which looks a lil like this:

(using the boards from the most recent video) This one ended up being 50 shots in total by the time I was done because this is the DRAFT, this is you getting all your first ideas down. Sometimes you redo panels or add more or take away others but this is where you draw out all your most basic sketchy starting points. And no one sees this stuff unless you choose to show them so they can be super messy as long as you can come back to them and know ah I know what I was drawing there. I say it is the hardest part because this is where you're trying to visualize what is in your head which is difficult. A few ways to make it less difficult though is -for backgrounds pull up sims or minecraft or a 3D program and build a set to then use screenshots for placeholders so you can go over them later. - I recently found this amazing site called sketchfab that has a huge store of 3D models for anything you are looking for, this is good for references of objects at ANY angle or you can use the models themselves. From there all you need to really do is line/color (to any level you prefer, don't strain yourself) some extra stuff you may find useful: - A standard video format is 4800 x 2700 px aka 16 x 9 but to not brick your art program you can lower to like 12 x 6.75 or lower (as long as you keep the same aspect ratio tbh) and 300 dpi and it will still be HD. - Try to think about what ways you want the camera to pan when boarding because if you want something to pan UP or DOWN dont make what's in the image too wide because you will need to zoom in a bit for an image to be able to pan like that without it hitting a hard edge. - I use Shotcut to edit these together which is a free video editing program but it can only be used on a computer. USE THE KEYFRAMES to pan and move shots, DONT use the sliders trust me its a lot more accurate to keyframe and learning how to use them is very important.

Lastly, just for some extra info you might find helpful:

Hope this is enough solid info to get started on your own projects!

[xenniejunk]

I really had no clue what to title this, I've staring at this over and over again and I think I totally flopped with the typing. I'm definitely going to rewrite this, but here's the first draft I guess?

If they're are spelling errors, so sorry Charlie!

1284 Words || Bakugou Centric -, he has a small spiral moment. 𐙚🧸ྀི __________

“Activity Day” was- well a lot, things were happening everywhere and it’s loud. 

Really fucking loud. 

Class 1-A was spread around the room,  playing board games, creating puppet shows, reading aloud some silently, television blasting and no-one was quite sure what was baking in the oven. Aizawa was somewhat stressed. This was only supposed to last a few hours but keeping track of so many children in that amount of time felt as if he was on a late night patrol shift. 

From having to replace Shoto’s chapter books with picture filled one’s since when he reads aloud to Hanta has his tongue tied since he can’t pronounce the large words and stumbles over them and becomes frustrated. Informing Izuku that no- sugar and salt are not the same thing and you can’t put salt in the cookies. No Ochako, you cannot lick the batter with your fingers. Eijirou you can’t re-dye your hair with no supervision, No Tenya making paper snowflakes does not follow a specific rule pattern. 

No, No, No, No! 

They had too much energy, and the four cups of coffee that Aizawa had taken before this was starting to wear off. He sighed as he turned to see Denki now beginning to draw on the walls with Mashirao’s tail for a second time, rushing over. 

Katsuki wasn’t eager for this to be taking place, yet here he was standing in the middle of a busy room like an idiot not exactly knowing which direction to go, but standing there was making him shift left and right and he was starting to dig his nails into his cuticles. 

So he just picked a direction. 

Katsuki wandered around as he decided on what he actually wanted to do, all his friends were doing different things and none of them suited him at all. Not all the girls doing a fashion show, which he thought was a bit impressive, Yaoyorozu created materials and sowed quietly as Mina sloppily painted Tsuyu’s nails, Jirou taking in conversion as she strummed with a makeshift guitar crafts with rubber bands and a tissue box; Toru humming an off key made up song.

Fumikage and Mezou in an intense game on All Might Monopoly using all the game pieces for Dark Shadow as well as his Mezou’s other appendages, so it would be fair. 

Koji had managed to find a bird and bring it inside, pacing around and having a full conversation. 

Ridkido and Yuga make their way to the kitchen, Ridkido taking the bowl that Izuku was mixing with unknown spices and adding the correct fillings to make a small cake to share, explaining the steps as both Ochaco and Izuku watch in awe. Yuga digging in the refrigerator for labeled tupperware where his fancy cheeses resided. Minoru was out of the room for extra work he had missed. 

Katsuki glanced back and forth, but there was really nothing that caught  his eye. He really would want to go back to his room however they all agreed to do this on a Saturday for a few hours and it seemed reasonable at the time but now that he’s actually down here he’s overwhelmed. Katsuki feels weird, his chest feels tight and his eyes hurt. There’s just too much happening- his breathing becoming unsteady.  

He had told Aizawa this morning that he was perfectly capable of taking care of himself, that he didn’t need to participate in any “baby activities” he’s a bit older and he’d find something to keep his mind busy as he decides to made his way to television staring blankly at a show about fairy princesses or something he’s not really sure, his vision is blurry as he attempts not to blink. 

If he blinks he’ll definitely cry but he’s not going to admit that even in his mental. He’s sliding up and down, and he can’t just pick a headspace! 

He can’t freak out, it’s stupid to freak out. His friends are having fun so he should be too, Aizawa looks stressed, really fucking stressed he’s walking around everywhere and eye’s look deader than usual. Katsuki knows he’s difficult to deal with when he’s- useless and pathetic, he wipes his eyes as he glances over to Aizawa once more he’s on one knee speaking to Eijirou, having to gently inform him for the fourth time that he can’t dye his hair until tomorrow, sitting him down at a small table to give him a moment to cool off. 

Katsuki settles for the corner, walking over and sitting down. Face pressed in the knees. He doesn’t like it, the sound, the chatter. It’s not fun at all- he intends to stay like this for another two hours. No-one really seems to notice, not that it matters he doesn’t want to be touched at all, as soon as he stepped in the room he slid between ages.

It’s fine, he can handle this. He’s not going to ruin his classmates' fun, and make Aizawa fuss over him because he’s a “bit stressed” which he isn't at all. It’s actually nothing. He’s used to loud noises all the time- he is a loud noise.

 It shouldn’t matter right now when the sound is out of his control and it’s crispy- He should hearing aids off, he’s not allowed to usually- he gets frightened when he doesn’t have them in, and it makes him anxious which is why Katsuki only takes them out to sleep. 

He hums out, the tone of his voice is nice- great even it almost cancels some of the now blaring sounds as the class begins to somehow become more active. He lightly rocks himself back and forth- it helps but it’s not enough, it’s like his chest is being compressed- eyes pricking with tears as he rocks more aggressively. 

I don’t like this, I don’t like this, I don’t like this, I don’t like this, I don’t like this, I don’t like this, 

I don’t like this, I don’t like this-  It’s too loud, too-

Aizawa gently touches his shoulder, Katsuki’s eyes shoot up with a heavy gasp. “Bakugou? Are you doing alright?” Aizawa asks softly - Katsuki tries to push himself further against the wall. “No- I can… I can do it.. No-” Bakugou utters out he was supposed to be- this sucks. He’s making him do more work, he’s embarrassing himself. 

“You don’t have to, this must be a lot for you right now yeah?” Aizawa speaks again softly, Katsuki shakes his head. “I-M’sorry.. I said I could..” Katsuki stutters out. “You don’t have to be anything you don’t want to be, no-one will judge you.” he lets out a sob in response “Busy..M’sorry..” 

“I am busy, but I’m never busy enough to take care of you,” Katsuki sniffs, body slightly relaxing. 

“L-Loud..” 

“Yeah? It’s very loud, how about we turn off all the noise.” Aizawa hums as he reaches out for Katsuki’s hearing aids, taking them out gently sitting in his case that he carries around. Katsuki quickly flaps his hand. 

"Better?" Aizawa signs out, Katsuki slowly nods his head, he reaches his arms out as Aizawa slowly stands lifting Katsuki up tucking his head on his shoulder nuzzling into his thick and surprisingly soft scarf. Aizawa holds Katsuki in his arms as he does another loop around to make sure the children aren’t eating glue. 

Katsuki eyes are wide as he observes, Aizawa sometimes sits him down signing if he wants to partake in any activity but he just shakes his head before reaching up his hands and wanting to be lifted again. He ends up falling asleep on Aizawa’s shoulder, breathing stills as Aizawa holds him tight.

I loveeee Bakugou with hearing aids!