" Don't ya know that we's a family? Would I let ya down? No way.
.. Just hold on, kid, till that train makes Santa Fe.... "
Finally finished my fanart for @allyheart707's Little Subjects!!
If you don't recognize the lyrics, they're from the Broadway play 'Newsies.' :) The song is about the hopeful dream of two young newsboys to someday go to the glorified town of Santa Fe, and escape all of their woes and lack of freedom. Soooooooo you can see why I picked it for my fanart of Ally's au. ;)
( I actually originally had the plan for Mikey and Donnie to be taking the place of Annie, from the 1982 film, but decided that the song from Newsies would fit better. :) The building where Mikey and Donnie are staying, is what the orphanage looked like that inspired the story of Annie! )
Anyways, I hope you like it, my friend!!! :) And I hope you're feeling better today!! Praying for you! <3
Two down.... four to go.. but first- Imma take a break cause I can just FEEL the carpal tunnel crawling up my fingers and wrist XD
~ Melissa
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Mushy May Day 15: Painting On Each Other
Cirrus kills some time waiting for band practice with Swiss
Thank you to @forlorn-crows for putting Mushy May together, and to @ghuleh-recs for the divider <3
is this one a stretch to fit the prompt? yes
The worst part of practice, Cirrus decides, are the sectionals. Where Papa splits the pack into groups by instrument, works with them one by one while the rest of them are meant to practice quietly while they wait.
Papa's working with the rhythm section, Mountain and Rain helping him get Aeon up to speed. Which is all fine and good, they've got a tour coming up, but it's been twenty minutes and Cirrus is bored. She's tired of practicing her individual parts, there are no massive changes to the setlist from the last leg, she knows them like the back of her hand.
Her gaze drifts to Swiss's podium, the multighoul sitting and letting his long legs dangle off of the edge. His guitar's in his lap, a pretty black thing, all shiny and curves. His fingers are moving, playing something that's decidedly not one of the setlist songs. Every once in a while, Papa glances back from the other side of the practice room, and Cirrus watches as his fingers change chords without a moment's notice into something more familiar.
Cirrus sighs and hits the power button on her keyboard, hopping down from her podium. She hauls herself up to sit next to Swiss on his.
He doesn't turn, a flash of gold as he looks at her from the corner of his eye. Swiss doesn't stop playing. "Hiya, whisp," he whispers, fingers still moving softly over the strings. "Bored?"
"Mhm," she hums, feather tipped tail swaying behind her as she watches as Aeon stumbles over a difficult section. Their face furrows in concentration, determined to get better. "Kid needs this, but damn, I don't miss struggling like that."
"They're not struggling, they're getting there," Swiss says, fingers never stopping. It's a sweet melody, easy to listen to, pleasant on Cirrus's ears.
"I mean, I really can't say much about they're doing, I've never touched a guitar in my life," Cirrus jokes, knocking her shoulder gently against Swiss's. His tail bats at her as his fingers slip, a sour note ringing out.
"Knock it off," he laughs, cheeks dimpled with his signature grin. Cirrus rolls her eyes, but there's no heat in it.
The sectionals drag on, Papa still working with Mountain, Aeon, and Rain. Cirrus pulls a pair of pens from her pocket, ones she's supposed to have to make notes in her sheet music, but she knows everything front to back after all of the tours she has under her belt. She only really has them for the formality of it.
Swiss, ever incapable of sitting completely still when he's at ease, sways his tail behind him, the spade tip padding against Cirrus's side. It's pierced several times, gold rings threaded through along one edge, glinting in the light. It curls loosely around Cirrus's wrist, and she glances up at him.
He isn't paying attention, and Cirrus hums along to his playing as she puts the silver pen back in her pocket, uncapping the gold. She brings the tip of the pen to the spade of his tail and Swiss yelps. He wasn't expecting anything touching his tail, especially not something as wet and cold as the ink.
They both freeze, Mountain and Copia glancing over at them before turning back to the sectional.
"What are you doing?" Swiss whispers, tail still wound around Cirrus's wrist.
She shrugs, her grey eyes meeting his. "Bored. Sorry, should have asked."
His lips quirk up in a smile. "I mean, knock yourself out, you just startled me."
Cirrus gives him a little purr, leaning in to rub her temple against his shoulder before she starts to draw. Nothing fancy or complicated, simple geometric patterns that span over both sides of spade of his tail, shiny gold ink that matches the hoops threaded through his piercings.
Swiss watches out of the corner of his eye, still playing softly, fingers on the strings. "'S pretty," he hums, keeping his tail as still as possible to give her an easier time, feeling the drag of the pen nib over his skin. He lets her draw until Copia finishes the rhythm sectional, and she scrambles back to her platform for her own turn.
He wears her designs on his tail for the rest of the day, admiring the way the ink looks in the light.
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