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#i SHOULD just sketch in my book to help w making my lines more natural again but weughh
unexpectedbrickattack · 11 months
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peppino studies...hes got such a cute face and i feel like im straying away from it
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2.43 ep 5 thoughts: Oda and Aoki edition
sooo as you all know i’m an Oda (and Oda/Aoki) stan, so I just wanna take some time to talk about Oda and Aoki’s dynamics in episode 5 and compare it to the book a little
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as a note, I’ll be commenting using my translated copy of the novel, which I’m pretty sure is based on the tankobon edition of the first arc (‘S1′); there may be some revisions in the bunkobon edition that i don’t have access to
[2.43 BOOK SPOILERS AHEAD]
while i think the tension during the club activity suspension had been downgraded from “this is a huge blow to team morale :O” to “hm, i guess people are kind of annoyed?” and we didn’t get to witness Aoki and Oda flying off the handle, I do appreciate that the seniors are presented as a unit in handling the younger team members, especially that Oda was able to stop Aoki with a glance in the anime (as shown above).
this strong partnership also leads us to the scene where they are hanging out together on break at one of their houses and communicating with each other about the incident, even though they have different opinions about it: Oda believes in Yuni’s innocence, while Aoki is holding a grudge (based on his words and expression). (also, what a gorgeous house!) 
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there is no similar scene, or even a reference to something like this, in the book—this is because, as alluded earlier, the team suspension is presented as way more devastating to team morale than it was presented in the anime
in the book Aoki’s displeasure towards Yuni had a sharper edge; not only was Aoki the ‘lead interrogator’ during the team’s questioning of Yuni, but he also hauled Yuni up by his shirt collar when he thought Yuni’s refusal to explain what happened was him not taking this seriously. 
Oda actually had to physically intervene in the book, and although Aoki reluctantly let Yuni go, he specifically says that Yuni had “betrayed [Oda’s] trust.” When Yuni insisted that he didn’t do anything that’d cause trouble to the team and “it’s you [seniors] who refuse to take my word for it”, Aoki basically threatens to kill him if he keeps looking down on them/refusing to take this seriously. 
(Chika is also much more aggressive in the book; he tried to lunge at Yuni, but was held back by Kanno, who advised him to at least hear Yuni out, but also made it clear that they need an actual explanation out of Yuni instead of the wishy-washy stuff he’d been saying)
in the book, they make a note that Oda calming Aoki down is a rare sight that the underclassmen normally never see, which was kind of interesting in terms of how the 3rd year duo presents themselves to the team—Aoki is the cool cucumber while Oda is the excitable ‘heart’ of the team, so that line reinforces how unusual Aoki’s actions during the interrogation were. there’s also the implication that, since Aoki was so aggressive, Oda has to hold back and be the one who diffuses the situation this time.
as the argument over Yuni’s refusal to explain what exactly happened spirals out of control, Oda also reached his limit and snaps at all of them, including Aoki, to just resign if they’re just going to get in his way of playing at the Spring Tournament. this shocks everyone into silence, and Oda is so ashamed at his (”selfish”) conduct that he dismisses everyone, and it was heavily implied that he didn’t really speak to any of the team members during the month that club activities were suspended (horrified at his outburst during the last meeting).
in the epilogue (which timing-wise roughly corresponds to the after-credit scene in ep 5), it’s implied that Aoki was the one who reached out to Itoko’s friends in an attempt to figure out what went down during the incident, and Oda and Aoki have a rather touching reconciliation conversation.
essentially, Aoki walks in to the club’s supply office to see Oda taking care of the equipment. When Aoki pointed out that Oda doesn’t have to do all this as he’s the captain, Oda felt that it’s penance for “being the first one who gave up”:
“Nobody thought you’ve given up, you know.” Aoki sat down at the end of the bench, the worn wood creaking under his weight. Just as he was about to pick up one of the balls by his feet, he noticed—the “Seiin High School” written in marker on all of the balls are facing up in the same direction. 
Oda isn’t the kind of person who’d deliberately make sure the equipment was laid out uniformly, so it was easy to imagine that he got in early to maintain the equipment, as well as the way he stared at the name written across each ball he cleaned with deep emotion before putting it down naturally, with the school name facing in the same direction.
“If you weren’t the captain, the team would probably be finished and unable to make a comeback. It’s because of you that everyone is willing to push through these circumstances. You should be proud of that.”
“That’s because you went around to help me make nice with the underclassmen in the background, right?”
“No, I didn’t do anything to soothe them at all. Besides, I was only doing it for your sake before.”
Honestly, Aoki wanted to smack the hell out of Kuroba [...] While the others were more or less sympathetic after the whole incident was cleared up by Kuroba Itoko, Aoki still couldn’t quite forgive him. If it wasn’t for that brat, things would never have gotten to such a state.
“On this topic... Aoki, are you sure? If you retire now, you’d have plenty of time to get ready for your entrance exams.”
“Shin, stop bringing such an ancient topic up.” Aoki rested his elbows on the back of the bench. “There’s no time for you to feel guilty. Isn’t this the practice you’ve been looking forward to for so long? You have to show them you want this more than anything. Come now, before the others show up, hold your head high.”
Dipping his head down to look at Oda, Aoki thought Ah, so we’ve become old geezers too. Every time he looked at Kuroba and Haijima, he couldn’t help but think that Oda’s skin had a healthier glow back then; is it because he had gotten skinnier... no, no, he had built up some proper muscles since then, so maybe it’s just his face that looks tired?
It had been two and a half years since then. The first time he saw this shorty was when he’d been poked in the back, Oda’s eyes glittering as he chattered away about the “super ace.” He had been unwavering in the pure, naïve belief that he’d grow and become a super ace back then.
“I’m... really blessed.” Oda said quietly with a sniffle. He wiped the corner of his eyes, and when he lifted his head he expression on his face was one of happiness, though it was mixed with faint embarrassment. 
No, I think you’re pretty unfortunate. Aoki’s sure that, if he had been in Oda’s situation, he’d have given up on himself a long time ago. [...] Oda’s the type of person that, even when he’s forced to give up on his dream to become a super ace due to the unsurmountable challenge of his height, he’s still able to say he’s blessed with a straight face.
“Also, there’s one other thing I wanted to apologize for.” Oda hunched his back, clearing his throat sheepishly.
“What is it? Like I said, it’s fine.”
“I heard that you got a girlfriend, and went around on dates. I thought, ‘the team’s in a pinch and that guy had the time to play around with girls?!’ Honestly, I was really mad.”
“Pfft—” Aoki couldn’t help but laugh. When Oda looked at him in confusion, he covered his mouth with a hand and shifted his gaze away. “Don’t worry about it, there’s nothing going on.”
“You contacted the girls from the other school because you’re looking up leads for what happened with Kuroba, right? Still, even if you didn’t get a girlfriend, I think it’s only natural that you’d be popular; you’re really tall and smart after all.”
“Shin... can we just drop this?” Aoki interrupted, feeling his temples throb. He was a little angry, but... oh well, it’s fine if Oda doesn’t understand.
(2.43 S1 Epilogue part 3)
(Aoki is pining SO HARD he can be a frickin’ tree 🌲 he already has the height covered :V) 
in a previous post examining the Oda/Aoki dynamic, I’ve talked about how they seem to be at cross purpose when it comes to understanding the other’s motivation—we’ve seen Oda being confused by why Aoki would devote himself to him back in Chapter 3 (it’s because he is in love with you thinks your pure drive is admirable); and now the “I’m really blessed”/‘no I think you’re unfortunate’ exchange from Aoki’s point of view shows Aoki’s blind spot. it’s not explicitly stated, but to me it’s pretty clear that Oda was talking about having the team, and more specifically about having Aoki’s support, which is what makes him blessed. Aoki, though he’s not wrong about Oda being an optimist, seems to have missed (or dismissed) what Oda was really trying to say here
all in all, both the anime and the book have shipping material for Oda/Aoki, but in slightly different ways; in the anime it’s more of a stable and straightforward dynamic (which makes it easier for the anime staff and the viewers to handle, since there’s no opportunity to devote precious run-time to an in depth exploration of their characters and dynamic), while in the book it’s a bit more complicated, where it feels like they’re on the verge of something but it’s never addressed explicitly
or, in the terms of fanfic tropes, in the anime they give off strong established couple vibes, while in the book they’re more about the pining and miscommunication
EDIT: lmao the staff sure knows their marketing huh. they really said "Dinner at the Aoki Household" huh. (I guess the implication is that Oda slept over that night? or at the very least had dinner at Aoki’s place)
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honestly it's rly interesting to sketch out the dynamic i want to explore in Oda/Aoki fics, because i see them as an established couple in the anime (sir they DATIN’), while i maintain that they have not gotten together yet in the books (and won’t until after Aoki had gone off to college)
(also, just to be clear, i don't think Oda/Aoki would ever be 'canon' in the sense that it'll be officially/explicitly confirmed. i just like their dynamic and i’m having fun with it)
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inkwellfire · 4 years
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Hello again! I've been painfully reminded that, unfortunately, backgrounds exist. Do you have any tips?
Meanwhile this reminded me that I haven’t thought about how to do backgrounds that it took me a few days to figure out what I could even have to say to give you tips lol.
For one, I’d suggest looking at the tools in your program so you can mess with perspective. These are the perspective tools in Sketchbook.... I don’t ever use them.
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The first one, One Point Perspective, is more for stuff like tunnels/looking at a wall straight on, and horizons.  The second is Two Point Perspective, and it’s helpful for the corners of rooms/buildings- you often need to put them WAY off the page for anything that isn’t a cityscape-like-thing... third is Three Point Perspective, which is useful for making things that recede into the horizon, like a railway or road. and the last is the fish-eye perspective which I never use and don’t remember much about.  (and for sketchbook, since it took me forever to realize this: the magnate locks your cursor onto the grid lines of the perspective points- aka, helps you make straight lines to Make a Grid. the lock is to lock your perspective points so you don’t accidentally move them, and the eye thingy toggles off the lines that connect the points)
And I’m just gonna use this picture I like... Just Drew to show some stuff.
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So, this is 2 point perspective, and I usually use the background to create a way to put characters into the focal point. it’s why the main lines in the bg (ie, the bottom of the cliffs) draw the eye to the character’s face. Perspective should be consistent throughout the entire picture unless you wanna break the rules in order to create something a bit- mind-twisting, or just feel like breaking the rules. lol.... but I always find it’s easier and more fun to break the rules after you’ve learned them. So do try and play with perspective. But- it’s why the sword, his arms, wings, and ect, all follow this same line of perspective.
most of my more complex natural backgrounds I actually don’t use much in the way of a sketch or anything
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this one was just taking the sun & radiance lines to create that perspective and distance. So- often, I just pick a focal point and/or horizon line, and work from there.
For indoor scenes, it’s easier to get a good idea of the simple plan of the room, and get a general idea of what it’s used for. what kind of space is it? Rooms have a LOT of characterization through props and furniture and the such, so it helps to get an idea of what kind of space and feeling you want from the room in order to draw it. Think of yourself as a set designer for a play or tv show something if it helps to visualize what you’d want to populate your room with.  (though it helps to think that way for natural scenes/cityscapes as well sometimes.)
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So, first off, we/ve got (Meh-looking) 3 point perspective. (again, I don’t use these tools much.... I just draw and pretend I know what I’m doing)
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and then since the room is a living room/entryway, it’s populated with a couch to let characters lounge about talking, some thing to place your drinks/books (ie the side table), lighting, somewhere to hang their things when they get home, and then some personal touches with the hanging plants and painting.
integrating your characters into the perspective will help the background feel less like a Back ground and more like a Space.
it might be helpful to think of it less like Perspective and more like Foreground, Midground, and Background. So w/ that last picture, the shadows on the floor, two of the characters, and the sword hilt on the wall fall into a foreground, the couch, lamp, and plant fall into the midground, and then the furthest wall is the background.
MMmmmmmmmmmm hope that helps because I can’t think of anything else to say rn. lol. >w
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More Than Friends ||
Chp. 25
Masterlist
CEO!Jaehyun AU x Reader
College Student!Jaemin AU x Reader
Summary: After a complicated relationship with the infamous CEO, you want nothing more than to live your life as a normal college student; however, Mr. CEO just can’t let you go.
{ Previous / Next }
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You angrily tapped on your phone, texting Soyeon that you’ll kill her the minute you see her. Your taxi has just left you and now you’re standing in front of the door to Soyeon’s house. You stood there in fury and anxiety, scared Jaehyun might see you.
You didn’t know why you were so scared to bump into Jaehyun again. Maybe because deep down, you knew if you saw his face, your heart would start racing on its own accord; but then your heart will shatter the next minute when you remember what he had done the previous meeting. To say you were shocked was an understatement. You would constantly look back to that day and wonder: Who is he to kiss some chick in front of you? Who is he to say I can’t kiss another guy when some random chick throws herself on him? Why did he think I even kissed Jaemin to begin with?? The only lips I wanted to ever kiss was his...
You took a step back from your thoughts. You mentally slapped yourself when you found yourself thinking about his lips. Even though you cursed at yourself for such thoughts, you couldn’t help but think back to when you first fell in love with his lips.
~~~
It was almost time to start school again and you dreaded the day to come. Naturally, you wanted to make the most of your last day. You were planning to go out with Mark and Soyeon but you guys just hung out the day before, so you thought it’d be better to leave them alone.
Not knowing who else to call, you dialed the first person on your ‘recents’ list: Cocky Hoe. Yes, he is cocky and a hoe, but when either one of you was bored (and not horny) you guys actually had a lot of fun.
Today, the two of you decided to go to an old record store near his house. To your surprise, Jaehyun knew a lot more about you than you thought. The reason he brought you to the record store was that he saw old books on the opposite end of the store. Your eyes lit up at the rows of classic novels stacked neatly onto the shelves.
Jaehyun saw your reaction and laughed. He grabbed your chin and made you look at him, “Wipe your chin baby, you’re drooling.”
You squinted your eyes and glared at him, wiping your mouth you responded, “Leave my body liquid alone.”
He laughed again, this time you can see his chest rising up and down as his dimples appeared on the sides of his face. He looked angelic, you thought. Some would even say, sweet.
You shook your head and stopped gawking at him, focusing on the endless shelves of books instead. One particular book caught your eye and you step forward to grab it. However, the book was placed too high and it was making it very difficult for you to get ahold of it. You let out a puff of annoyance as you attempt to grab it again, tiptoeing your feet. Suddenly, you felt a figure shadow over you. His lips pressed on the skin above your ears and he said in a low tone, “so you’re gullible and short.”
He easily grabbed the book from the shelf and chuckled, opening the leather-bound book and flipping through the pages. “What’s this book about?”
You huffed and rolled your eyes, “Maybe if you let me read it, I’ll know.”
He laughed and handed you the book. When you reached for it, he pulled the book back. You glared at him, “Really Jaehyun? We’re playing a ‘push and pull’ game now? How old are you?”
He smirked and said, “I’ll give it to you only if you admit you’re short.”
You sealed your mouth shut and crossed your arms in defiance, not willing to give in to such insult.
He chuckled and bent down just a little so his face was right in front of you. He subtly licked his lips and then reached his hand out, ruffling your hair. “Not going to give in, 5’4” shortie?”
You let out a huff of annoyance and uncrossed your arms, “Fine... I’m sho-”
He was ready to win the childish argument, but you suddenly extended your arms and tickled his sides. He dropped the book and you laughed in victory, grabbing the book from the ground and running towards the end of the store.
He let out an exaggerated gasp and playfully shouted, “You little monster!”
You sat on the ground towards the end of the store. With your back leaned on the bookshelf, you peacefully started to read your book. Jaehyun found you a few minutes later and sat down beside you. He stared at your relaxed figure and reached forward to push the stray hairs behind your ears. He leaned forward and, yet again, placed his soft lips above the skin of your ear, whispering, “I didn’t think you’d be the romantic type.”
You were startled by his sudden contact and stuttered, “W-What makes you think that?”
He turned his head back towards the front of the store, and you almost felt disappointed at the sudden loss of contact. He slightly tilted his head your way and pointed at the pages of your book, “Well you’re reading Pride and Prejudice.”
You raised your eyebrows, “And you knew that just by looking at this page?”
He replied as if it was the most obvious thing in the world, “Yeah.”
“Look over here,” he scooted closer to you and read along the lines of the book, using his index finger as a pointer. His voice mesmerized you as he read, “You must allow me to tell you how ardently I admire and love you.” He paused for a moment, making eye contact with you. At that moment you really thought that he was, in fact, Mr. Darcy himself reciting those lines. He opened his eyes and his normal ‘Jaehyun’ self was back. He smacked his tongue and said with a little smirk, “Yup. Definitely said by a lovestruck Darcy.”
You looked at him skeptically, “I still don’t believe you’re that cultured.”
Jaehyun placed his hand over his chest and faked a surprised reaction, “What? You’re calling me dumb? I’m hurt baby.”
You laughed at his dumb reaction and nodded. “Mhmm, you’re definitely uncultured and nothing’s gonna change that.”
He then turned back to the book and began flipping the pages, the light reflecting off his rings. You looked as he was searching for a specific page. His serious concentration can be seen by the way he bit his lip. You stared as he pulled his pink, plump lips between his teeth, slowly falling into a trance.
He pulled you out of your thoughts as he said triumphantly, “Right here,” gliding his long fingers along the lines he spoke, “Do anything rather than marry without affection.”
He chuckled as he continued reading in his mind, “It’s a classic really. Jane Austen does wonders.”
He then looked up at you, closing the gap between you both. He stared into your eyes, “Y/n, will you marry me?”
You froze, taken aback by his words. You would have never imagined someone saying such a thing to you. Let alone in the back of an old bookstore with your fuck buddy. You got a grip on yourself and rolled your eyes, “Shut up you idiot.”
He pouted and turned his head back towards the front of the store, sighing he said, “I thought a classic Pride and Prejudice line would make a girl go crazy for me... but I guess Miss shortie here is too cold-hearted.”
You gasped, taking offense to his words, “Hey! I’m not cold-hearted, and I only read Jane Austen because I know her novels are purely fictional. No real love exists, they all gradually fade away or it was never there to begin with.”
He shook his head at you, “It may be true that not all love lasts, but it’s nice to see for yourself because you never know if you don’t try.”
You replied, “Well Mr. ‘All of a Sudden I’m Really into Romance but I Still Like to Fuck Around for Fun,’ I don’t believe in love but I’m not cold-hearted either.”
He chuckled and asked you, “Oh yeah? Did you cry while watching The Notebook?”
You scrunched up your nose and replied, “No. Why would I?”
He shook his head and laughed, “Of course you wouldn’t. You’re the ice queen, you know that?”
You looked at him confused, “I’m not the ice queen. I don’t get why I should cry over a movie.”
He scoffed and looked down at the ground, “Well I did.”
You stared at him blankly, then burst out laughing. “YOU. CRIED. DURING. THE NOTEBOOK???”
He glared at you, “If you ever tell anyone, I will have my company sue you and then murder you.”
You laughed so hard, you started to tear up. Jaehyun just continued to send you daggers through his eyes and subtly pouted.
You never saw this side of him, only knowing the part of Jaehyun that likes to sleep with you. But today was different, you got to know what he liked, and surprisingly, he knew what you liked. You wouldn’t admit it, but the little things he does make your heart beat a little faster. You stared at his little pout and found yourself smiling from the inside.
The next second, you lost all control of your body and you kissed him softly. Naturally, his hands went to your hair. This time, however, his hands didn’t grab your hair, instead, he touched it gently as if you could break any moment. You pulled away from the kiss, startled from your own movements, and tried your best to hide your embarrassment. You chuckled and told him softly, “You’re cute when you pout.”
He laughed, showing his beautiful dimples, “It’s cuter when you pout.”
~~~
Your heart started racing again as you thought of his lips. You thought, “That’s it. I have to leave here before he sees me or else I won’t be able to control myself.”
Just then, your phone buzzed with notifications. It was Jaehyun spamming you with texts.
He caught me.
You quickly hid behind the gates and looked for a way out. You called your trusted neighbor for help, in hopes that he will come to your rescue. To your luck, he came to pick you up a few minutes later.
Thankful that Lucas was such a reliable and caring friend, you let your emotions sink to the bottom of your heart as you listened to the R&B songs playing from his car speakers.
———
• I’m mentally sketching ideas for a ‘Highway to Heaven’ themed chapter �� •
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tayerroos · 4 years
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Patchwork Tales: Book 1
A “9" roleplay compendium.  Read on AO3 Chapter: 5 [First] [Back] [You Are Here] [Next] Warnings for this chapter: None
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peytonainsworthh · 4 years
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{ madelaine petsch ♔ twenty-five ♔ she/her } well, well, well if it isn’t peyton ainsworth running around peach hollow. legend has it, they come from oliver avenue and have lived here for eight months. if you’re wondering what they are up to, i hear they’re an event planner for a living. they have been known to be vicious yet loyal. a word of advice to them, always look over your shoulder. you never know who is watching. { haley ♔ twenty ♔ est ♔ she/her }
hello everyone and welcome to peach hollow!! as an admin i am so excited to get this party started. us admins are five ppl who love to write and have been through way too many failed rps. soooo we put in all of our love in effort into making this one!!
 this is my bby peyton she’s def an acquired taste bc well she’s a bitch but you’re gonna love her i promise!! anyways i’m haley and we should plot!
past
peyton hasn’t live in georgia all of her life. in fact she is one of the town’s newer residence. she moved there a little under a year ago with her mom and sister.
peyton was born and raised in san francisco in a neighborhood called pacific heights, commonly known as billionaire’s row.
she was born into wealth, her father owning a chain of five star hotels that had been passed down through the generations for as long as she could remember. she spent a ton of time in the beautiful hotels her father owned, learning her work ethic from him. her father was stoic man who put more value on a dollar than substantial relationships with his family. your typical rich dad.
her mother was a trophy wife, spewing meaningless side projects like perfume lines and eye shadow palettes that enviably made their way into departments stores alike.
peyton’s fondest childhood memories was helping set up for the weddings in the hotels. watching the flowers be arranged, the chairs be strategically placed, the wait staff setting the champagne flutes. this lead to her taking an interest in doodling wedding dresses and small flower arrangements.
she has a small wildflower tattoo going along the curve of her breast that she drew, fun fact.
when she was three, her little sister was born. the two grew up inseparable, running amuck in their house together, pranking the nannies but most importantly: ice skating. there were obviously no ice rinks in california naturally but their nanny would take them to an indoor skating rink for lessons. peyton and audrey were quite good skaters.
in high school, peyton won a ton of awards in art contests and even got scholarship to attend art schools across the country.
her dad insisted there was no money in being artist (even if money was never a problem for them), he urged her to take over and be a hotel tycoon like him. peyton and her father fought a lot towards the end of high school about this but at the end of the day, she was her fathers daughter and was stubborn. peyton knew the key to happiness was chasing you passion instead of the dollar.
she attended rhode island school of art and design, earning a degree in interior design and a minor in illustrator. after graduating, she returned home and expected to have a job in the hotel that could suit her.
as she expected, her father got her a job in his business planning the events and having creative control over how each other ballrooms looked as well as the lobbies. working in close quarters with her father made their relationship grow quite strong. the two did everything together and suddenly their stoic walls were crumbling, only for each other.
it seemed as though everything in peyton’s life was coming together. she was the head event coordinator at the hotel, her father was her boss and allowed her to have free range. her sister was around so they could goof off at work.
this was until one day peyton was bringing her father lunch from their favorite mexican food truck in the city. she then walked in on her father sleeping with his assistant which put a stake in their relationship.
peyton couldn’t keep the secret from her mother. she’d rather her mother walk away with dignity rather than stay with a man who had no respect for her. but her mother did not have the same respect for herself.
peyton made the decision to take her funds and move to georgia to be near her grandparents, that’s how she ended up in peach hollow.
now, in peach hollow:
peyton enjoys living in peach hollow. she likes being close her grandparents and she enjoys being surrounded by wealthy and like minded people, due to being a bit prissy.
the redhead can’t seem to shake her bitterness about her father’s affair and paid people in her father’s company to teach her how to hack.
she started using hacking to see her father’s finances and text messages but has graduated onto hacking other people’s phones, nobody’s really safe.
her father tries to reach out but she doesn’t offer any forgiveness. but she pays him little mind.
her mother often sends her checks and peyton will occasionally cast them in times of desperation but peyton is pretty well off living in a nice home on oliver avenue.��
peyton is an event planner and works with some of the richest people in georgia. she works mostly at the caledonia in their grandiose ballroom, throwing gatsby scale events. 
the redhead loved the thrill and pride of hosting such events: weddings, birthday parties, company gatherings, new years eve bashes and so on. but most importantly, she loved meeting people in networking the way a true socialite does. 
this networking lead her into the lifestyle of being friends with richer families in peach hollow. and more than friends with the men. peyton persued being an escort for a few reasons.
to maintain social status
get a nice paycheck
get back at her father
BEING AN ESCORT IS A SECRET SHE KEEPS FROM EVERYONE IN HER LIFE. THE ONLY PEOPLE WHO KNOW ARE HER CLIENTS WHO WANT THINGS TO BE EQUALLY CONFIDENTIAL. 
personality:
perfectionist!! detail oriented!!
CRAZY PSYCHO BITCH
the problem child bc her sister is an angel
big bitch but has a heart sometimes
she will not go get mexican food w u don’t even ask but she really just wants a damn burrito
will literally come over and marie kondo ur entire life
evil genius and luvs revenge
a legit psycho when it comes to loving people like has hacked her exes phones even though she seems calm and collected on surface level
will force u to watch home videos of her skating and u will watch
don’t ask to see her sketch books she will blush and change the subject
wanted connections:
ex bf/gf: peyton met them shortly after moving to nyc. they showed her the ropes to the east coast and they did everything touristy you can think of together. they were super toxic because peyton is CRAZY. we can plot how they broke up and when.
a no homo friendship: a really close female friendship that peyton has a crush on the other and is super flirty towards them but acts like she doesnt have feelings for them bc fear of rejection and like acts she’s joking (but maybe it’s one sided/unrequited or maybe it’s mutual???)
clients: people she’s planned events or is going to plan events for
escorting client: some rich ass secretive people
ride or die: the person that peyton is closest too and has seen her soft side. she is a super bitch so this is a rly big deal. they are an unbreakable bond.
a rival cousin: someone who is in constant competition with peyton because they’re related. they have made beef & are rivals. but at the same time they would kill each other & kill for each other.
friends turn enemies: were friends up until a certain point, but either realized they never really liked each other or one just dropped the other or maybe something happed idk lets plot
friends w. benefits: peyton be a sexual ass hoe so bring her ur guy, gals, and non binary pals
LITERALLY ANYTHING LET’S PLOT
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Thinking Ahead
Summary: Lotor realizes that the feelings he has been harboring are not what they seem. 
Pairings: Lotor x F!Reader
★ Disclaimer: I do not ship Lotura and I kindly ask that this story to not be tagged as Lotura. This is a Lotor x Reader/Self-Insert OC story which is in no way related to Allura at all. Please be respectful of my chosen pairing. Thank you. ★
Warnings: Dirty thoughts, underage drinking.
Future Sight___Historic Significance___No Time Like The Present___Thinking Ahead ___Best Friends
“Here you go, two cups of black tea.”
Romelle, bright eyed and equally bright haired student of Hufflepuff, placed two dishes of tea in front of you and Lotor. Professor Trelawney’s reasoning for “switching up partners” is so people would not be too familiar with each other. That way, everyone could get a true taste of variety amongst their peers. Unfortunately for her, she was oblivious to you and Lotor’s growing friendship.
“Ugh, this tea is so bitter.”
“Yes, I will admit, this is not one of my more preferred flavors.”
Black tea was too strong on your palette, but at least the temperature of the drink was perfect. Not too hot, not too cold, and you couldn’t help but grin when Lotor sent you a pointed look the second you started sipping loudly. Where are your manners? You had none, not for some tea leaves fortune telling crap.
“Have you ever had sweet berry hibiscus tea?” you asked out of the blue, peeking at him over the edge of your tiny cup.
“I have. The fruity flavor is delightful with a side coconut jelly,” somehow, this meager chitchat made the bitter liquid bearable, “I took a trip to Maui one summer. Oh, so humid, but not as hot as I would have expected. The locals were, ahem, generous and kind beyond measure. Of course, after they accept you, the ridicule for being a tourist never ends.”
You smiled at hearing that, finding some sort of cruel glee in his suffering, “Yeah? They call you old man because of your hair?”
“Oh, come now, surely that insult is as old as time itself,” he chuckled then grinned at the challenge, “No, no, they playfully poked that I am a fish when it comes to surfing. I quote, ‘Floundering and wiggly.’”
Now, the two of you laughed, and unbeknownst to either of you, Allura’s attention was not so subtly focused on the happy duo. Or at least, how happy Lotor seemed. Romelle took her seat across from her, tilted her head when she received no recognition from her close friend, then followed her line of sight. A mild annoyance began creeping up her spine then she gently slid a hand to cover Allura’s dainty ones, a show of support and a way to garner her full attention.
“Allura?”
The Princess stayed silent for a moment more before tearing her gaze away, offering Romelle a smile that didn’t quite reach her eyes, “Yes? Pardon me, ready for some tea?”
The concerned look reflecting Romelle’s eyes did not go unnoticed. Nor did the soft way her thumb was gently rubbing over the Princess’ knuckles out of instinctual comfort. They talked about this before, talked about her and Lotor’s previous relationship several times over when she felt those feelings creep back up in her heart. You were right when reading her palm: Allura had an insecure heart, even a year after her relationship with him took a turn for the worst.
But that was not why she was intently watching you two right now.
“Are you alright?” or rather, will she be alright?
“Yes, I am quite fine, thank you,” the Princess picked up her teacup and rest her mouth on the lip, “...Actually, I think I am just...concerned.”
“Concerned? You know he can not hurt you anymore, Allura.”
“Not for me, no. I mean for her.”
A spark of jealousy welled up in Romelle, but she quickly tampered it down before it could be known. You and Allura were not friends. Acquaintances, perhaps, but even so, she could understand the Princess’ bleeding heart for others. Especially in situations that didn’t include her, or need to include her at all. She only wished for the safety for everyone and the blonde girl couldn’t blame her. She cared too much for people and it did get her hurt more than once.
This was not new information to Romelle.
She sipped from her cup then glanced at Lotor, taking keen interest in him when he drank from his own cup, “Allura, do you think he’d hurt her? Maybe we should talk to Shiro about this…”
The Princess finally took a gulp of her tea, hoping it would relax her nerves, “No, that won’t be necessary. I’d rather not involve anyone else unless he - Unless I start to notice something. I really am trying to take your advice into practice.”
As in, don’t get in too deep in other people’s lives, ex’s included. It was just hard to do so when the man you once loved is giving someone else that same exact look she felt for him. Or at least, she thought she felt. A year later and it was still so very confusing for her fragile heart. Allura gently squeezed her friend’s hand in sincere apology.
“I am sorry for making you worry,” she continued, “Let’s enjoy this tea, yes?”
Romelle doubted the enthusiasm plastered over Princess Allura’s face, but she knew no words would soothe her troubled mind right now.
Lotor laid in bed with Kova perched on his shoulders, his tail loosely wrapped around the Prince’s neck. The cat would have rather been laying in his lap, but it was already preoccupied with an open book. There were words scribbling fast across the page, yet they appeared not by Lotor’s hand. No, the writing was too big, too loopy to be his.
I nearly threw the book into the fire when you wrote back. You should’ve told me at the dance! Nearly scared me to death. Thought one of the ghosts possessed it or something.
He reached over to his bedside table and picked up his quill. The nub was wearing down. Soon, he would need a new one.
You would willingly traverse into the Forbidden Forest past midnight, but a two-way journal scares you?
I’m a Ravenclaw, not a Gryffindor. Bravery is not in my blood.
Lotor grinned at that. Yes, curiosity and bravery were not of the same definitions.
Did your tea reading spook you of the future?
Why would I believe soggy, yucky leaves telling me I’m going to be attacked?
Maybe it is a sign. Watch out for puddles.
After that, the Prince drew a surprisingly detailed puddle, but then added a stick figure to represent you. There was a frown on your face and he could already imagine the indignant noise you’d make once seeing his creative masterpiece. To his surprise, ink started sketching as an image of, what he could only assume, was HIM appeared over the water. Was that... was that him on his broom? Lotor chuckled in mirthful amusement.
My ears are not that big.
In response, you drew his hair longer. Excessively longer. Rapunzel length longer. Then, the moon appeared. Full, just like that night, and little stars dotting the vacant sky. Lotor’s heart softened at the image you were drawing, not at all thinking about how he was connecting the dots and making constellations here and there. It wasn’t until he saw a single, long line stretch from the bottom of the page to the top and stop there did he tilt his head in confusion.
No more words? Ah. You must’ve fallen asleep on him. It was well past midnight anyways. You had a good idea. Before he decided to snuggle under the comforter in search of dreamland, he wrote three little words. Three little heartfelt words that he knows you’ll see come morning.
Good night, darling.
Lotor’s brows scrunched up in offense at watching you read. Well, he was trying to read, but his eyes caught such a despicable act to nature he had to put his own studies on halt just to make sure he was not dreaming a horrid nightmare. He cleared his throat softly, just enough to catch your attention.
“I had no idea you lick your thumb before turning pages.”
Almost comically, your tongue was still stuck out just as you were about to wet it, “I know, it’s a disgusting habit -”
“Very. Remind me to never lend you any of my books.”
You had to suppress a laugh at his squinty face, almost like he found a fly in his five-star bowl of clam chowder. This time, instead of using your thumb, you swiped the page with the tip of your wand. It seemed this pleased him more than your gross saliva tainting the books and spreading unknown germs to others. Or even to yourself! Who knows how many people have touched these books?
“And remind me never to touch any of your books, too.”
You rolled your eyes yet kept a playful grin plastered on your lips, “One of my favorite stories is World War Z. Have you read it?”
“The one about zombies? Really? That one is the best book you can think of?” Lotor arched his brow, attention focused on you now instead of his own reading, “You know zombies can never really happen.”
“Shh! It could totally happen, y’know. If science can go wrong, why can’t magic? They wouldn’t’ve made reversal spells if magic was perfect.”
“Pardon me, did you just say…” he squinted at you even more, “W...wouldn’t’ve?”
Now, he was baffled at yet another phenomenon you showed him. Unnecessary contractions. Lotor blinked like you just grew another pair of lips on your face, which nearly made you chortle a bit too loud in the quiet library. No other students would even consider staying this late in the archives for fun, yet good company was all you two needed, location be damned.
“You have been hanging around Keith too much, darling,” he reprimanded, yet you didn’t take it at all seriously, “Next thing I know, you will be a brooding jar of angst who mopes in bed all day. Oh, wait, that DID happen.”
It was your turn to scoff in mock offense. How dare he grin that catty grin after openly poking fun at your expense? You almost wanted to retaliate by flicking a paper ball at him. Almost, and you only decided against it when you saw his eyes shine in delighted mirth, half his face hidden behind a book. It was...nice. Not his weak insult, no, but rather the friendly familiarity was quite refreshing between you two.
“Oh, yeah? Well, at least I don’t...I don’t…”
“Hm? Yes? You do not what? Use your words, dear.”
“Hmph, at least I don’t...Gah, I can’t think of anything!”
Lotor wasn’t flawless, but it was kind of hard to think of one, singular trait you could joke about on the spot. And he knew this. He reveled in making you fumble over your words because, although you were smart, you still needed at least a day warning to come up with a worthy insult. Meanwhile, the scrutinizing observer he was, he could pick at you till the sun comes up.
“It is alright. Take your time,” he nonchalantly turned a page, that air of victory surrounding his smug self, “You can say it tomorrow when you are ready.”
“Quietly. You do not want us to get caught, do you?”
As silently as you could, you lifted your foot and gently tapped the stone with every step you took. How Lotor could pull off being so stealthy, you had no clue. Magic, probably. He was leading you up many flights of stairs in a part of the castle you were not familiar with. Was this the Slytherin wing? No, there weren’t even any pictures on the cobblestone walls. Where exactly were you?
“Ugh, wait, let me - “ you knelt down quickly, slipping off your clunky shoes and allowing the cold stone to seep through your socks, “Okay. Okay, where are we going?”
One hand in his, the other now holding your scuffed shoes, Lotor decided against giving you a firm answer. Instead, he turned over his shoulder, sent you a quick wink along with his signature trusting smile. You stumbled gracefully, blaming the uneven stairs for fault, yet he was strong enough to still prevent you from kissing the floor.
“We are almost there...if you would stop tripping,” cue smile transforming into a playful grin, an excited grin, like a boy ready to see the fireworks start.
“Well, maybe if someone didn’t have mile-long legs, I wouldn’t have to sprint to keep up,” you huffed, that is, until the two of you came across a large gap.
The chasm below, oh stars, how high up did you two travel? This was at least 50 stories high. It was a miracle the stairs were even holding up at all, as decrepit this building was. But...there, across the death hole, was a door which you could only assume was where he was planning on leading you. Before you could even ask him a question, Lotor released your hand then effortlessly leaped across the gap, landing calculated and ever so majestically.
And maybe a little smug when he met your slack-jawed face.
“That is so unfair.”
“Jump. I will help you, do not worry. The gap is not as big as you think.”
You were half nervous and half...excited? It must be because of your curiosity peaking at the sight of the ornate curved door. Surely, no one else would even consider venturing forth with the prospect of a very long drop right in front of them. But Lotor said he would help. Lotor said not to worry. Yet, you shuffled in spot, calculating how much of a running start you would need to make it across.
Meanwhile, the Prince was way too amused seeing you hesitate. He held out his arms as if offering a hug, trying to lure you in with the trust he carefully built with you.
“You drop me, I haunt you for the rest of your life.”
“Duly noted, darling.”
That gap...was it just you, or was it getting bigger? Before you could let your nerves get the best of you, Lotor sent you a nod of encouragement and you exhaled a heavy breath. Shaking your arms, you backed up a bit then took a running start, leaping with all the strength in your legs. Don’t look down. Don’t look -
Oh, fuck. Too late. And now, you realized your jump wasn’t nearly as far as it should have been. One foot landed on the edge and Lotor’s instincts immediately kicked in, his strong arms winding around your midsection to pull you close for security. You weren’t sure who made the “eep” noise, no, certainly not you, but you definitely heard him chuckle when your hands clung onto him for dear life.
Your heart was beating so fast. If you were listening closely, you could hear his, too.
“See? That was not so difficult, now was it?” Lotor took a few cautious steps away from the hole, noting your legs were shaking like a newborn foal, “Come, you - ah - dear, your nails…”
You stubbornly shook your head, refusing to let go of your hug as he guided you through the door, “Forests, fine. Flying over a lake? Fine. Leap of death? No. Next time, give me a piggyback ride. I’m not doing that again.”
The door closed behind you two and it was Lotor shrugging you gently to pull your face out of the safe confines of his chest. A dead fireplace, cushions, some thick blankets, half a ceiling missing. This place was in shambles, but it did make you feel more lax, more safe, more secluded. Lotor’s arms fell to his sides to let you explore the humble room, moon missing tonight and sky shimmering with distant stars.
“Here,” the Prince picked up a folded blanket, spreading it out and over your shoulders, “It is only going to get colder and we will be here for a while.”
“Oh...it’s…” the view from up here, so close to the clear sky, you almost felt like you could pluck a gem or two from the night, “You brought me here to stargaze? They look so much clearer tonight.”
Some more shuffling and Lotor wrapped his own thick comforter around his body then sat on a chilled cushion. There was no wind tonight, thank goodness, otherwise this trip he carefully planned might have ended prematurely. Footing your own cushion closer to his side, you also plopped next to your tall friend while tucking your blanket tighter in your chest. Neither of you minded that you two were, as they say, attached at the hip.
“Not only that. Just wait. Give it a few minutes,” Lotor angled his head upwards, nebulous eyes reflecting those twinkling stars and anticipating the phenomenal show to start.
You mimicked him, orbs searching for something in the sky, anything other than those countless dots swimming in the night. Lo and behold, you saw something flicker. And another, this time longer. A shooting star? Many! Many shooting stars blinking in sight, and just like that, you perked up in amazement, in the awe Lotor witnessed that night at the moonstone lake. Lips parted, iris darting across the sky to catch each falling star, you saw 10, no, 12 pass by in the mere minutes you were sitting here.
The cold didn’t bother you anymore, “That’s...that’s like, 12 wishes!”
16 now and soon you would no doubt lose count with how frequently they appeared. You couldn’t keep up with his freckles, shooting stars even less.
“I can’t...think of more than 3 wishes,” your mouth scrunched up in a corner, “I wish tests weren’t so hard.”
“That, my dear, could easily be handled if you studied more,” he reached to his satchel and pulled out two green mugs, “If I recall correctly, the Muggle world believe wishes can be granted by magic, no?”
Your attention diverted to the cup he placed in your lap, fingers deftly picking it up and noticing it...empty. “Yeah, they believe that if you blow a dandelion in the wind, your wish comes true, too. Other things like, uh...something about ladybugs? And eyelashes? A bit silly, isn’t it?”
And yet, he has a suspicious feeling in his gut you tried every possible wishing device at your disposal. Lotor pulled out his wand then gently tapped the rim of his cup, warm dark liquid instantly filling it to tipping point. The steam wafted in the air and you noticed a few mini marshmallows floating in his drink, clumping together in the sea of sweetness. No sooner were you able to voice your question of “How did you do that?!” did he use magic to fill your cup, as well. Less marshmallows, but no complaints from you.
“Well, magic does not have to make sense,” Lotor spoke with a hint of cockiness and, after taking a sip of his drink, he hummed in thought, “Needs a bit more of a...kick, no?”
“A...kick?” you raise da brow, carefully drinking a small portion before smacking your lips together, “Peppermint cocoa? Didn’t take you as a sweets kinda guy.”
“I adore sweets. Chocolate frogs are one of my favorite delicacies,” he admitted, hiding the fact that he also...collected those cards in the package as a hobby.
Lotor pulled out a bottle. A dark bottle, label unreadable in the dim room, then he popped the top off with one strong flick of his thumb. He poured a generous amount of what looked like milky coffee in his cup before offering the tip to you. Whatever it was, there was a whiff of sugary sweetness and, oh...that was alcohol. Faint, but it was there, and you shot a bewildered look at him.
“The Prince drinks alcohol? What would the Slytherin housemaster say?” you feigned shock and, even in the dark, you could see his glowing eyes roll at your words.
“Hush, you. Alcohol is commonly referred to ‘liquid courage,’ no?” to his delight, you held your drink up and he poured a small amount for now, “After seeing your...flawless bravery over that hole, I think some liquid courage would somewhat embolden you.”
You sipped. You sputtered. You stuck out your tongue, somehow thinking it would help get that ghastly bitter burn off your palette.
“Oh, this is - this is disgusting!” and yet, you took another sip, maybe the second time around wouldn’t taste as bad, “How can you drink this stuff? Blegh…”
A deep chuckle rumbled from his chest. Yes, this must’ve been your first drink, but in his mind, it was not strong at all. Still, seeing your blatant dislike of it, he brought his wand up and prepared to magically whisk away your drink and give you fresh hot cocoa. It was you who cradled your mug away from him, holding it like you were preserving a precious, rare golden apple.
“Oh? So, you DO like it, I see,” Lotor’s eyes cataloged the blush gracing your cheeks, either from embarrassment at playing keep-away or from the drink warming up your body.
“Now, I didn’t say that,” you leaned against him, placing all your weight on the sturdy Prince, “I should try it...a third time. And fourth. And fifth. Then I will give you my five-minute review of your peppermint hot cocoa.”
This was so dangerous, sneaking out this late, drinking alcohol, but it was giving you a sense of acceptance, of fun, hanging out with Lotor with no judgement from anyone. No student roles under a teacher’s gaze or homework to be done before noon or responsibilities other than caring for each other in the most spirited of company. Goodness, was he always this warm? You lifted his arm and tucked yourself against him, figuring double blankets would keep you two cozier longer throughout the night. .
“If you fall asleep, do not drool on me. I will wake you, dear.”
Your eyes scanned the page, mouth silently reciting the spell so you could memorize it by heart. Though, with your previous attempts that came out for naught, you knew this was going to be difficult. It was almost as if your wand was purposely refusing to work with you. While the rest of the class was practicing with success, you glared with determination at the potted plant in front of you. Unblooming. It looked nearly dead, to be honest.
“Morning dew, nightly rain
Bring this rose to bloom again.”
Three flicks of your wand, each punctuated at the end of a verse, yet all the plant did was...wilt. And with it, so did your spirit. To your right, before you could even see his smarmy grin, Lotor hummed in amusement at your failed attempts. Rude. You saw out of the corner of your eye that his potted plant, well, blooming was too nice of a word. It was flourishing. Practically a mini rose bush now, orange of all ugly colors.
“Don’t laugh,” you pouted, trying not to take his mockery at heart and knowing this was just him being a little shit again, “I’m trying.” “Maybe if you said it correctly, it would work. Here,” Lotor faced his already beautiful plant then cleared his throat, voice clear and loud, “Morning dew, nightly rain, bring this rose to bloom again.”
It grew twice its size, nearly tipping the pot. You grumbled, a low “show off” muttered from your lips.
“Now, your turn,” he faced you, watching your every move, from the flick of your wrist to the posture you held, “Your voice must be loud and clear.”
Again, you mumbled, both at his instruction and this dumb plant that wasn’t listening to you. The Prince tsk’d, your behavior and discouragement making him cross his arms. This was stern Lotor now. Not quite the same from the forest, but close enough that if you didn’t heed his advice, he would definitely leave you to fail over and over again.
“Sit up. Do not slouch,” he watched you do as he commanded, “Hold your wand at a 45 degree angle near the plant’s base. Now, LOUD and CLEAR.”
“I don’t like raising my voice,” you finally admitted...stubbornly.
Lotor narrowed his eyes slightly at the excuse. He reached over and scooted the plant closer to you then lifted your chin up with a finger. His eyes didn’t miss the way you stiffened in your seat nor how you easily surrendered to one of his slender digits. For a quick second, his mind flashed to what else he could do to you with just a single finger.
“You do not have to be loud, then. Clear. How will your wand hear you? How will the plant hear you? Now, try again.”
“Tch, now who is the pushy one, huh?”
“You could fail and lose house points. Your choice.”
“Bah! Fine, fine, just - don’t watch me.”
He wouldn’t watch you directly, but he was listening intently now, just to make sure you spoke the spell clearly. Or blow up your plant on accident. A few minutes passed and when you cheered a “Yes, finally!” under your breath, he knew you got it to work on the 6th try. By HIS guidance, no less, but still, it was the results that mattered in the end. A nudge at his side and he raised a groomed brow at you, eyes obviously waiting for a sign of gratitude.
“I don’t like yellow roses. Can I change the colors?” you flipped through ahead of the book, going to the more advanced spells, and he had to stop himself from rubbing the headache forming at his temples.
Fool. Mumbling idiot. You were going to accidentally change the color of your skin if you weren’t careful.
A strange thought crossed his mind then. Were you always this...imbecilic?
Lotor felt sick today. A cold, no doubt, or a fever? He wasn’t sure, but the tonic the nurse gave him only helped temper his body a little bit. The drapes were pulled together to keep his entire room dark and a thick layer of blankets covered his form. Oh, but he was breaking out a sweat now, his least favorite part about being ill. Aside from the migraines, of course.
The journal glowed a faint blue hue by his bedside, the light actually intensifying his headache. You were writing in it, most likely waiting for him to reply, but he was too aching to move any of his limbs. The sick Prince knew that a distraction would help him avert his mind from focusing on his soreness, yet part of him just wanted to...ugh, that brightness was getting on his blasted last nerve.
With all the strength he could summon, he grabbed the book and stuffed it inside the drawer. He didn’t want to talk to anyone right now. Sleep and silence were his best cure for his shut-in self. Eyes drooping slowly, he buried his face into the lush pillow then willed his mind to shut up. For five minutes, just five, let the comforting arms of sleep embrace me. Wish granted.
Though, he roused at the soft rapping of knuckles on his door. He had no idea how long he was knocked out. Could be an hour, could be a day. He wanted no visitors, so who dared…?
A turn of a knob and your face, as well as the hallways blinding light, leaked into the room. His silver brows knotted in annoyance and, with a peek from one eye, he tried to dig even more into his pillow to avoid you. Sick Lotor was an unhappy Lotor. A warning from Ezor when they had reluctantly let you in their wing and led you to the grumpy Prince’s private room. Your footsteps indicated you were right besides his bed, probably just looking down at him in pity. The thermos in your hand suddenly felt a little worthless, but you stood firm in your wavering thoughts.
“Hey, Lotor?” a rumbling grunt as a response, not the friendliest, but you understood his frustration, “Figured you were, uh...y’know, under the weather.”
“I am not sad. I am sick,” came his muffled reply, followed by a cough, “...And tired. Very tired.”
Yes, you know the wretched side effects of being sick. You may be going to a wizarding school, but illnesses still affected everyone. Why couldn’t magic whisk it away? Taking a seat at the edge of his bed, being mindful of his space and the fresh scent of mint wafting in the air, you offered him a soft pat pat on his elbow. Instantly, he cringed into himself, the touch both welcome and a little uncomfortable. You had intended to come and keep him company, perhaps tell him about what you learned in class today, yet all his body language pointed to one option: he wanted to be ALONE.
“Alright, alright, loud and clear,” you weren’t offended by his brusque words, well, maybe a little bit, “Here. Don’t know if you ate anything yet, but there’s some chicken soup in this. Generosity from the kitchen staff after they booted me out for sneaking in.”
You at least expected a chuckle, a quip of “I am surprised they did not turn YOU into soup,” but nothing came. Placing the thermos on his bedside table, you headed for the door and, with one last glance back at him, you offered a soft smile.
“Get better soon.”
The illegal Love Potion was finished and a majority of the class was excited, rightfully so. Everyone was eager to know who their loved one was, their crush, and possibly even sneak a portion out to use on the object of their desires. But not him. He was here for the grade. Lotor adored the dark arts and, although not officially part of the curriculum in his other class, this was just another step into understanding why Love was the strongest curse of all.
And yet, you were shifting nervously in your seat. Hands neatly folded on the desk, knee shaking up and down insistently, and your eyes couldn’t even focus staring at ONE thing. He didn’t understand. The two of you use the same ingredients, so you must be getting the same perfect grade as him. Or perhaps...you, like the others, were curious about what the potion would reveal to you if you took a small whiff.
“Did you...y’know,” you asked vaguely, motioning to his simmering potion.
“No. Did you?”
“No.”
A moment of silence. You knew you had certain feelings for him, but pinpointing them to love or anything stronger than love was what really kept you uncertain. Friends? Best friends? Maybe...something more? Should you ask him? Part of you wanted to, yet another side of you was actually happy with where you two were at now. You trust him. You trusted him quite a bit.
“Wanna do it together?” you asked, knowing there was a few minutes to spare before class started.
Lotor’s silence made you hesitate even more. Not because it was a yes or no answer, but because he was thinking about what he was going to experience. It was no matter of the heart that he already heavily desired you since that mirror showed him what the two of you could be. His thoughts were invaded with you before, yet he couldn’t differentiate between him being a horny adolescent or an actual fool in love.
The Prince sent you a side glance, “Yes. Let us try.”
Both of you gently swept the smoke rising from the cauldron to your noses, preparing yourselves for the answers to the unknown.
Peppermint cocoa. Old library books. Fresh laden snow. Chicken pot pie. A...rose?
You brought a hand up to cover the lower half of your face, immediately knowing where all these scents were coming from. Or rather, who. You...love him? No. That couldn’t be. You didn’t even realize it! How could some liquidy goop know you better than you? But...maybe on some degree, it was true. You love him enough to be such close, vulnerable friends with each other. Enough that you wished his sickness would erase completely from his body that one night. Enough that you willingly leap into his welcoming arms, despite the fear clouding your mind.
The realization...well, it brought you two things. One, a peace of mind now that your question was answered. And two, you found that the damn beating organ in your chest wanted to ask him about these conflicting thoughts. You swallowed a thick gulp lodged in your throat, sparing a meek look at your partner sitting idly besides you. Did he smell...something foul?
Lotor’s face was twisted in utter disgust.
Yes, he knew what his nose would pick up. Chicken noodle soup, white carnations, misty lake water, oak trees, and finely-ground powdered moon stone. With every scent, a new memory flashed in his mind, from that dangerous adventure at the forest lake to the soup he gratefully consumed shortly after you closed his bedroom door. The memories...it made his heart fond, his heart yearn to hold you again, but the smell. All of it mixed together?
It made him want to puke on the spot.
Lotor covered his nose with his hand to block anymore of that potion from reaching his brain. He knew you were staring at him, waiting for an answer, anything, and he knew you were not blind. The growing friendship, the late night cuddling, the hugs, the sentimental time spent together. You must’ve suspected something between you two, some fine line between the moments of vulnerability you shared with each other.
“Lotor, did you - “
Yet, he turned away from you, avoiding looking at you in the eyes, just as the professor waltzed into the classroom. Maybe the smell was too strong for him? Yes, yes, that was a logical conclusion. The potency, when taken too much, can cause nausea. Right? You swear you read that somewhere in the book. It must be the cause of his sudden reaction.
Because if it wasn’t that, then everything else pointed to the other option, and you weren’t sure if you were ready to accept that.  
Lotor didn’t speak to you for the next few days. Sometimes, you thought you saw a glance of him turn a corner. Sometimes, he was hastily shoveling his food in his mouth to leave abruptly. Sometimes, he would spare you a quick, stoic glance before turning his attention to his books. Either way, there was no right time to talk, no perfect moment with his odd evasiveness lodging between you two.
Then again, you tried to see this as openly as possibly. Perhaps he was just busy. Tests and finals were coming up and you, too, were preoccupied with other studies.
“Hey, Lotor, wait up,” you called out to him this time, jogging to catch up before he entered his class.
“Hm? Yes, dear? What is it?”
“Did you wanna head to Madam Puddifoot’s this weekend? After tests and everything. Figure we could use a break, eat some cake, the good stuff!”
Lotor didn’t meet your gaze nor your enthusiasm. Instead, he glanced off to stare at the floor, internally debating something bouncing around that cluttered skull of his. He was a man of few words, even fewer when concerning personal emotions, yet lately he couldn’t even organize his thoughts in a coherent order. There was something bugging him, something deep in his skin, and as your friend, part of him realized it would wedge an awkwardness between you two.
“Ah...no, I apologize,” eyes still glued to the floor, Lotor missed the downtrodden dip of your smile, “Perhaps another time, hm? When things have quieted down and students have gone home for break.”
Yes. Yes, a good diversion, one he didn’t quite think all the way through.
“Oh, yeah! Sure, good idea. Less people would be overcrowding the shop. Just...y’know, the journal. You know where I am at.”
Were you always this...this easy to push around? Odd. He never really noticed it before.
A nod of his head, he turned and left you standing there alone. Not even a goodbye? He really must be stressed.
Lotor was feeling...angry. Frustrated, and not in a way he could relieve himself through some private time alone. Yes, in the confines of his dutiful patrol across the Slytherin wing, he still thought of you, of forcefully kissing you against the wall. Biting your delicate neck with little control until he had his fill of moans and screams. Even pinning your wrists at your lower back as he fucked you from behind made his groin stir in want.
All these images distracted him, but there was something...missing. He didn’t feel love. It was just lust. Just a need to climax, to dump his load into you over and over again. Knowing these thoughts only got worse over time left a bad taste in his mouth. He never wanted to use you for anything, least of all sex. His body wanted you, but his heart...his heart was unsure.
What changed? When did the line between lust and love divert? And why, when he thought of you, did he feel...nothing anymore? 
He would even go as far as to say there was a smidgen of contempt. That’s what was making him irritated. His heart was slowly beginning to dislike you, dislike your stubbornness, your pushiness, even your clumsy nature was grating on his nerves. All those times of you being a fool were true, through and through. You were oblivious to dangers. Not at all patient. Too dim-witted to see your true self, so you relied on others - relied on him - to bring it out of you.
It was annoying, yes. He was not someone to seek attention from. Yet, he couldn’t just say this to you. You’d get upset, cry about it, no doubt. Lotor just didn’t feel the want to deal with your wayward self again. He felt as if he was spending TOO much of his time catering to you and it no longer left a good, fluttery feeling in his chest. In fact, it left him feeling emotionally drained.
What he thought was friendship, or something more, was actually neither of those.
Perhaps that was why he still hasn’t taken that journal out from the drawer.
The two of you were drifting apart.
You finally managed to have at least a few minutes with him. Albeit, yes, it was by pure chance that your curious exploring led you to the same secretive balcony deep within the castle grounds. But, now that you were here, it felt a little awkward to be staring at his broad back. How do you start this? It hurt to realize you were hesitating talking to your best friend.
You were concerned for him, deeply concerned, but how do you say this without saying it?
“Did you follow me?”
The timber of his voice was a little deeper than you remembered. Taking careful steps, you walked up besides him and leaned on the stone railing with your hands hanging off the edge. Stiff, you were both stiff, or maybe it was the trick of the chilly night. The air didn’t feel as warm as it did before.
“No way, how do I know you didn’t follow me, huh?” the accusatory tone didn’t fall on deaf ears, but Lotor didn’t return the usual amusement.
“You should not be out this late. It is past curfew hours.”
It was hard to keep your mood from turning sour at his terse answers, but you had to remind yourself that this was Lotor. Your best friend. You missed him, even this moody side of him. Perhaps another joke would help? Maybe some light hearted teasing?
“Oh, c’mon, classes are over. What’s wrong with a little midnight adventure? Last one too exciting for you?”
Nothing. Not even a blink.
“I know what you are trying to do,” Lotor’s shoulders slumped and finally, he looked at you straight in the eyes, “I suggest you stop while you are ahead.”
The words spilled out of your mouth faster than you could stop them, “Lotor, I’m just trying to help.”
“Did I ask for it?”
“No, but - damn it, you helped me. Why can’t I do the same for you?”
Annoyance. That was all you could see flit across his face and it stung deep within your chest. You tried to put on your best pleading expression, something to show that you really were worried about him, about his distant self, about his walls being rebuilt brick by brick. This wasn’t like him, not at all.
“People usually help out of the goodness of their heart, not as some sort of debt to repay. ”
“That’s not what I meant. I just - you’re acting different.”
Again, wrong words to say. You knew it, you felt the sudden shift in the air. Saw the way his jaw clenched in restrained control and how his eyes hooded low in a paralyzing glare. Pushing, you were pushing too much, and Lotor was getting very uncomfortable. And, as usual, with his discomfort came the need to...protect himself. Retaliate with words to disarm you completely.
“Oh? And you are unhappy with this ‘different’ side of me? Is that why you seek to help change me back?”
“No! Of course not, Lotor. When I wasn’t myself, you showed me - look, I don’t know what’s going on with you - “
“No. You do not. Perhaps you should have been more observant,” he sneered at you, hitting hard at the fact you were an airhead most of the times.
You brushed off his comment, but it left a lingering ache in your heart, “Or you could just - WE could just talk. Just one night, get whatever it is off your chest and I’ll do the same.”
“No.”
You anticipated the answer before even offering the suggestion, especially knowing deep down that neither of you would be comfortable with speaking so openly about emotions. Foolish, you weren’t thinking ahead, thinking about what you were saying before letting it slip from your tongue. Talking to him like this was insufferably frustrating. It was wearing down your patience, HIS patience, but your stubborn persistence is what would tip the breaking point. You were never aware of this.
“Then what do you want to do, Lotor?”
“Is it not obvious?”
Again, his voice was being degrading and part of you wanted to scoff at him.
“I came here by myself for a reason.”
You could at least piece two and two together, even if the sharp edges left biting wounds on your skin.
“...You want to be alone,” you finished for him, sad you had to say those words out loud for both of you to hear.
Lotor needed time to sort out...whatever this was. And, judging by the way he averted every single one of your questions, this had nothing to do with you. Nothing you COULD do, except give him the space he needed unless you want to find yourself facing the brunt of his cold shoulder and burning words again.
You hated this feeling, this feeling of being rejected. Shunned.
“Fine. I’ll give you your space.”
“Thank you.”
Lotor sure didn’t sound truly thankful, but at this point, you didn’t much care. If isolation was his way to handle things, then you would let him do it. Even if it cost you the friendship and whatever feelings evolved between you two. Something that neither of you got the chance to further explore. That revelation made the pit in your stomach sink in sadness.
The hot, angry tears of frustration wouldn’t stop falling down your cheeks as you turned and marched away from him.
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svtnscenarios · 7 years
Text
junhui college au!
guys, I burned my fingers
so it hurts when I type
I apologize for the delay, please bare w/ me!
let’s go!
jun would probably be an undecided major
he’d get all the core courses over with
but he was still trying to find out what he really liked
but you
you were an art major
you loved drawing
you liked sketching
and designing
and coloring
and everything art included
you were in your junior year of college
and so was jun
but neither of you really talked to each other
you thought he was the most gorgeous man on campus
but you’d never have the courage to go up to him
and he thought you were the most pretties girl on campus
and he’s seen plenty of pretty woman
but he thought you were breath taking
he’d watch you sketch in your pad from afar
he’d always wonder what you were drawing
he has always wanted to see your drawings
he was so curious 
both of your admired each other
but had never spoken to each other
but one day
you were in your art class
your art class was pretty small
about 13 students
so you were pretty close to everyone
one of your friends and you were talking
“so it’s the new semester, do you know what our project is this time?”
your friend asked you
but you were just as clueless as her
“I have no idea”
before your conversation could progress
your professor walks in
but he isn’t alone
he has 13 boys walk in behind him
“good afternoon class! today, as you all know, we will begin our new semester project!”
you try to take in all the visuals in the room
your eyes trail down the line of boys
until you hit jun
he was looking straight you
for some odd reason
neither of you looked away
it was a comforting stare
as if you guys were communicating somehow
“and I was able to get these 13 wonderful volunteers to help me and you with this project”
you finally leave jun’s glance
and focus on your professor 
“you will be assigned a model to draw with all the elements and detailed as possible, you have a month”
you knew this was coming
you saw it coming
you just hoped you wouldn’t be assigned jun
because that would be 
VERY AWKWARD
the teacher starts naming the pairs
“hansol is with lisa”
“mingyu with sunny”
until she called jun
“jun is with y/n”
you screamed internally
you banged your forehead internally on the desk
“you guys can start as soon as you’d like, you have a month”
the professor left the classroom
leaving the ‘models’ 
(which were really good looking students with a free period)
with you guys
jun makes his way over to you 
and you gulp nervously
out of all 13
he was the most confident
“y/n, right?” he takes a seat next to you”
you nod, “yes”
“jun”
he sticks his hand out for you to shake
you accept it kindly
his friendliness breaking the barrier you both had
“so are we gonna start now?”
“no, not here, let’s go outside”
you collect your things and jun follows your lead
for some reason
you liked to draw outside
the natural lighting was the best
and since your drawing had to be detailed and realistic as possible
you needed jun in the best lighting
“so first, we’re gonna start with a sketch”
you positioned jun on a bench
he posed naturally
“is this good?”
he smiled at you 
and you melted
“that’s perfect”
you begin to sketch jun
looking back at your pad and at jun
his features were so sharp
as if he were already a work of art
you were worried you wouldn’t do him justice
but you had to have some confidence in yourself
you took many breaths
sweat dripping down your face
and you were done with the sketch
“done! it’s just the sketch!”
you hand the notebook to jun
because he quickly stood up
eager to see your work
“wow! it’s so cool! you’re so talented y/n!”
hearing him call your name casually made you feel close to him
and when he complimented you
you felt your cheeks get hot
“y/n! can you come here really really quick!”
your friend calls you from across the courtyard
you don’t hesitate and tell jun you’d be right back
you left jun alone
with your sketch pad
he didn’t think before looking through your sketch pad
he just wanted to see more of your work
he always wondered from afar
and now it was in his grasp
he sees most of your work was nature and lifestyle objects
he turned to the pages at the end of the pad
he sees a bunch of outfits you’ve designed
you really did it all
he admired how talented you were
and he could see a bright future ahead of you
unlike him
he wasn’t sure what he wanted to do
or what he was good at
jun quickly puts your pad on the bench and waits for you
he watches you as you walk back from your friend
your hair blew in the wind
your skin glowed under the sun
he was mesmerized “jun? jun?” you have you hand in front of him
he barely realized you were back 
“uh yeah?” he tries to pull it off
“my friend invited us to go eat, you down?” jun doesn’t hesitate to join you and your friend
your friend who was also an art major
she was drawing someone named hansol
so jun, you, your friend, and hansol
end up eating at a popular deli close to campus
you get to know jun more
which kind of helped
if you knew him better
maybe it would help you draw him better
his personality was bright
he laughed and smiled a lot
you found out he was close friends with hansol
for some reason you all got along so well
it’s like you and jun were meant to be friends
you both clicked so fast
days passed 
and jun and you used the ‘project’ as an excuse to hang out
you both knew you liked each other’s company
but jun would distract you from your drawing 
and he’d make funny faces
and you’d just laugh and tell him to get serious
and one day
jun and you were at the art store
because you ran out of pages in your sketch book
and he wanted to tag along
that turned into a hang out day around the city
“so have you decided you major yet?”
you ask jun as you both walk down the busy streets
“no, i haven’t found what I’m good at yet”
you could tell how down and confused jun was
“it’ll come to you soon, I know it”
you reassure him and he nods
you and jun soon got hungry
so you both stopped by a food truck
“I’ll buy” 
jun stops you from pulling out money
and you don’t argue
because jun is stubborn
and you wouldn’t win an argument against him
you both take a seat and enjoy the street food together
“excuse me sir”
a man well dressed in a suit taps on jun’s shoulder
you both look up at the man
and he seems really friendly
“I couldn’t help but notice how visually pleasing you are, and I think you’d really suit our company! here’s our company’s card!”
he leaves jun with a card
and you can’t help but feel so happy for him
“jun! you could be a model! you just got scouted!’
he blushes and shakes his head
“I don’t know...I think I want to finish college first”
he reads the card
“well yeah! do that, but you can get some experience now and get a portfolio together and everything!”
jun’s heart warms up and how passionate you were about what he should do
“maybe you’re right”
the month was almost up
and you had the base of jun done
all you had to do was paint it
and you still needed him to paint him
“y/n, I had a question”
jun asked, but he didn’t move a muscle
he knew you had to paint it perfectly
“ask away”
you mix paints together and begin to work
“remember a few weeks ago when I got scouted?”
“yes, I remember”
jun takes a pause before continuing
“well, you said I had to get experience, and the school is having a fashion show, and I signed up to walk the runway, but they need more designers, and I’ve seen your work! you could totally be an amazing part of the fashion show!”
you freeze
jun saw your designs?
you were slightly embarrassed
because you only kept those to yourself
“you saw those?”
you take a pause from painting
“yeah, they were amazing”
you don’t think it’s a bad idea
it would help jun out
and it could benefit you too
“I’m down”
once the month was over
you turned in your final work of jun
you got an A (ofc)
and now it was time to start your new project
which was designing clothes for jun and the fashion show
this took a lot of time and dedication
you had to measure him and everything
“the guy from the company is coming”
jun speaks as he watches you sketch ideas 
“really? well then I’ll make sure you look extra good”
you give him a thumbs up and he smiles at you
you design two outfits for jun
the style was chic with a mix of street style
the fashion show was at the end of the year
and you were so nervous with all the stress
next year you’d be a college senior
and you’d have to find a job quickly
sure enough, the fashion show came quickly
just as quickly as you and jun grew so close
you revealed the outfits to jun two days before the show
just to make sure they fitted
and they did!
when you arrived backstage of the fashion show
you were looking for jun
he texted you the room he was getting his makeup done in
and you found it quickly
“hey!”
he greets you as soon as you speed in
“he-”
you look up at him
and 
he 
looked
amazing
his hair was styled perfectly 
his makeup was barely any he looked so good
“y/n!” he snaps his fingers in your face
“oh! here, here, put this on!”
you hand him the outfit quick;y
he removes his shirt quickly
and you gasp as you turn around
“jun!” you scold and cover your eyes
“what?” he laughs at your sudden shyness
“you couldn’t have waited till I left?”
he just continues to laugh and gets undressed
with your back facing him
once jun was dressed
you escorted him to the entrance of the cat walk
“okay, you look good! I believe in you! you got this! show that company what you got!” 
you touched up jun’s outfit as you hyped him up
he just looked down at you as you fixed him up
he loved how supportive you always were
how positive you were
“you’re up!”
you look up at him
he was nervous
but he couldn’t afford to mess up now
he nods at you before stepping out onto the catwalk
you watch jun from the tv backstage
he looks like a professional
he only practiced his walk once
and he was killing it
he was drop dead gorgeous
any modeling company would want to sign with him
he walked across the stage smoothly and cooly
flashes of cameras 
claps from the audience
jun loved it
he loved the moment
once he made it backstage 
he was quickly rushed to change into the second outfit
and it was the same routine
jun loved the rush backstage
he loved how exciting it was
and for the first time, he found what he was good at
once the fashion show was over
you ran up to jun
“you did so good!!!”
he laughs at how cute you were 
“thank you y/n” 
he pulls you into a hug 
and you were shocked at first
it being your first physical contact with him
but you hugged back in less than 3 seconds
“mr.wen?”
you both turn and see two men walking towards jun
one was the same man from last time
and the other was a new one
“you are very talented, and you know what you’re doing out there on the runway, why don’t you sign with us?”
the man speaks
and jun almost screams
“I’d love to! but I’d like to finish college first”
the man nods understandingly
“there’s no rush, you’d just have to sign the contract now, and once you’re done with college, you can come work with us”
you almost cheer for jun right there in that moment
but someone taps your shoulder
you turn around and face an older woman you’ve never seen before
“are you miss y/n?”
you nod and walk farther away from jun so he could talk to the men
“I’m a designer myself and I own my own company, and I saw your work, and I’m in love with your style, and the model made it look even better!”
“thank you so much!”
“I wanted to offer you a job at my company, here’s my card, if you’re interested, you can give me call and we could meet up any time!”
she hands you her card and leaves with a smile
you were so happy
you could finally have job and enjoy it
jun walks up to you once he’s done talking
“so what was that about?”
“a designer offered me a job”
you show him the card and he takes it
“really?! that’s awesome!” 
he subconsciously hugs you
he was so excited for you and himself
“wait, I wouldn’t been able to do this without you”
jun tells you and he slowly releases you
you look at him puzzled
“if I never went out with you in the city that day, I never would have been scouted, I never would have found out what I’m good at, because of you, I found what I liked doing”
jun was being soft and it made you melt
“well, I have to thank you too, if you never had seen my work and asked me to do the fashion show, I would have never got a job”
jun hugs you again, but this time it was for a longer time
“I never told you this, but even before we started talking, I admired you, and now I like you more than ever”
jun’s words were so blunt
he was so confident in confessing to you
but you feel exactly the same way towards him
“I do too” you let go of jun to look up at him
you both smile at each other
laughing at each other
this was the best day of your life
you got a job 
and you got jun
↠ masterlist ↞
requests are always open! (:
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mpalarea-blog · 5 years
Photo
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Artist: Yaneli Delgado
Exhibition: Global Change
Media: Relief Printing
Gallery: LBSU School of Art, Dennis W. Dutzi Gallery
Website: N/A
Instagram: omequiztli
Yaneli Delgado is in her second year post baccalaureate program in the college of education, where she is finishing up her credentials to become an art teacher. She has received her BA in sociology and Spanish from the University of California, Santa Barbara; her chosen form of art is printmaking and more specifically relief printmaking. Relief printmaking is the process of taking a drawing, then sketching it out onto a linoleum sheet, next etching out the design, then painting over the etching, and finally pressing the etching onto a piece of paper and soaking in water to finish the process. Delgado chose this medium because she feels that men mainly dominate printmaking and she wants to let other printmaking artists that it doesn’t have to be that way. She first started printmaking about three years ago back in 2016, after she had taken a printmaking workshop because the works of Jose Guadalupe Posada, who is a famous Chicano printmaker, inspired her. Soon after she fell in love with the process and hopes to continue to express herself through this medium.
           Delgado’s piece titled Ni la tiena nil as mujeres somos Territoria deconquista, roughly translates from Spanish to English to mean “Neither land nor women are territory of conquest”. This phrase resonates in the print not only by it being on the print but also by how the native woman is placed. The woman’s hand is in a stopping motion preventing people but more specifically men from coming near her, the woman is also doing so in order to protect her child. Delgado states that she chose the colors red and black to help represent the Zapatistas women and that is why the woman is wearing a red bandana. Even though there are only two colors in use, the way that Delgado has carved out this image, the viewer can automatically tell that the woman in the print is indigenous and most likely Hispanic or native American. The print itself is very detailed and involves a lot of straight and curved lines. The straight lines can be found within the boarders and the curved lines can be found the woman’s hands, jewelry, and breasts. There is also some shadowing on and around the woman to help show the separation of each body part and the clothing she is wearing. Although the print itself is not small it does help to come in close in order to see all the detail of the full image from the strands of her hair to the small flowers in the woman’s earrings. The full image tells a story and overall it is very simplistic yet beautiful; this is a statement piece and it will truly resonate with women and people of color.
           While discussing the print with Delgado, I found out that she is from south central Los Angeles and being from this part of Los Angeles helps inspire most of her work. She is also of Chicano decent and she tries to let that aspect flow throughout her prints as well. This piece in particular was made to be for an art gallery that was focusing on global change and instead of making it about global warming she chose to focus on women, colonialism, and capitalism. She states that although the idea of conquests resonates back to the times of Columbus, we still should not treat women and native land as something that needs to be taken. She feels that women especially indigenous women need to be seen and heard; she feels strongly about this especially because her field is predominantly male. She is very in tune with her heritage and loves to explore that in her art, most of her inspiration comes from her background, books, and documentaries all focusing on the Chicano culture. She loves to make prints and has been doing so for around 10 years, as well as silkscreen, draw, and paint. Not only does she find inspiration for her work from her culture, but also from where she went to college. Graduating form UCSB has helped her meet new people, get to know her culture, get to know new culture, and finally find inspiration in nature.
This print was so different compared to the other curated art pieces in the gallery, it told a story that I could relate to because I could see myself in that woman. Although, the woman was in black and white, I could tell she was a woman of color and more specifically she was Hispanic. Most mainstream art does not necessarily showcase Hispanic woman with native features. Also, by speaking with the artist I was able to get a better picture of where she comes from and that helped me get even closer with the print. Just like the artist men dominate my field of study and I have to fight for my voice to be heard and I am from Los Angeles as well. I am not that in tune with my culture and heritage but this painting makes me want to learn more about myself. The print itself is very simplistic but it is very strong and it could stand alone in the crowd of all the other work in the gallery because of the message it has.
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hermanwatts · 4 years
Text
Sensor Sweep: Michael Whelan, Sea Horror, Solar Pons, World of Tanks
Tolkien (Sacnoth’s Scriptorium): The Next Tolkien Book: THE NATURE OF MIDDLE-EARTH. So, news is now out that there’s a new book of J.R.R.T. material due out next year (May 27th 2021).  Edited by Tolkien linguist Carl Hostetter, it’s called THE NATURE OF MIDDLE-EARTH, and its four hundred pages gather together many of the short essays Tolkien wrote about his legendarium in the post-LotR period.
  Gaming (Jon Mollison): For those of you interested in the hobbyist portion of this blog, allow me to point you to the thing that has been keeping me too busy to throw write-ups on gaming thoughts onto this page:  The Joy Of Wargaming.  With new videos up every other day, it’s been gathering steam every since it first went live back and the end of May.  The example video is a quick unboxing showing a small piece of a larger table of Egyptian terrain, but I’ve got a lot of actual-plays, painting sessions, and game reviews up already with more scheduled through most of July, including some hex-and-counter style wargaming for the diehard grognards.
Art (DMR Books): Michael Whelan, a colossus in the realm of SFF art,  turns a venerable seventy years old today. In honor of the occasion, I considered covering Michael’s incredible run of Barsoomian covers or perhaps picking a “greatest hits” from his forty-five year relationship with DAW Books or maybe even going through the surprising number of Howardian artworks that Whelan has painted over the years. However, I finally settled on a retrospective looking at Michael’s unparalleled body of work devoted to Elric of Melnibone.
D&D (Jeffro’s Space Gaming Blog): The previous session introduced developments that completely destabilized what passes for a status quo in this campaign. How to prepare for this? Well, Gygax has numerous examples of this sort of thing scattered about the AD&D rules. Imagine the situation. Determine the odds for each particular occurrence. Roll percentile dice and keep moving! As far as prep goes, that was about all that could be done, though I couldn’t help ponder what is just around the corner in the various dungeons I’ve introduced.
Classic Science Fiction (Adventures Fantastic): So the next few Retro Hugo posts are going to be focusing on the short stories that I haven’t already looked at.  I covered “Far Centaurus” for A. E. van Vogt’s birthday, and a scheduling slip-up resulting in my post on “The Wedge” by Isaac Asimov going live before I finished the novelettes.
  Art (Goodman Games): TSR artist Jim Holloway recently passed away. He will be missed.  Why do you play D&D? Because it’s a social experience that brings smiles, laughs, and camaraderie built around the spirit of adventure. While the wargames that preceded Chainmail and D&D were strategic and serious, D&D has drifted steadily into the realm of “social entertainment.” Now in the year 2020, we’ve fully accepted D&D as entertainment. Heck, you can even watch D&D be played by professional actors on Twitch who are just there to make you laugh. In 2020, we know this. Way back in 1981, there was an artist who figured it out before the rest of us. That artist was Jim Holloway.
Games (Table Top Gaming News): World of Tanks Tabletop Gaming Coming in September.  Many of you have hopped into your Panzer or Tiger or Patton and headed across virtual landscapes, looking to take out enemy tanks. Well, soon, you’ll be able to do the same on your tabletops. Gale Force 9 has announced that they’re coming out with a World of Tanks tabletop game this September.
Weird Westerns (Dark Worlds Quarterly): The creation of the new sub-genre of Weird Westerns is not a recent thing. The first Western is considered to be Owen Wister’s The Virginian (1902). The Horror story dates back to the caves and prehistoric man, so we will begin at the turn of the 20th Century. Novel publishers and the weekly magazines produced countless Western stories with authors like Zane Grey, Max Brand and Clarence Mulford being top-rate authors.
Advice (Amatopia): Ten Easy Life Hacks to Not Be a Total Creep! (Sci-fi Author edition).     Hi there, sci-fi and fantasy writers and fans! Are you tired of being accused of inappropriate conduct towards women? Are you sick of constant allegations of being a “creep”? Lucky for you, I’m here with ten life hacks to help keep you from being metooed like Myke Cole, Sam Sykes, Warren Ellis, and Paul Krueger, among others. There’s also Elizabeth Bear and her husband Scott Lynch who are accused of all sorts of horrible stuff.
Fiction (Adventure’s Fantastic): So, why on Bierce’s birthday am I going to talk as much about Robert E. Howard as the birthday boy? Simple: Ambrose Bierce had a big influence on some of Howard’s weird western stories. Bierce was one of Robert E. Howard’s most favorite writers. Howard even has Bierce appear in three of his humorous sketches, and a name check in a fourth that Howard wrote in his letters to Howard’s best friend, Clyde Smith
Life (Wasteland & Sky): Friends are not merely allies. They can be allies in causes, and they can even be support during the darkest times, but friends do not exist to be tools to achieve a common goal. They are not to be thrown away when they lose usefulness, or when they disagree with a certain belief you have that they do not. The only people who believe in such a thing as weaponizing friendship are those who have no idea what friendship is.
Appendix N (Swords and Stitchery): Colours Of a Darker Appendix N – Robert W. Chambers, H.P. Lovecraft, & Jack London. “The Mask” is introduced by an excerpt from Act 1, Scene 2d:
Camilla: “You, sir, should unmask.”
Stranger: “Indeed?”
Cassilda: “Indeed it’s time. We have all laid aside disguise but you.”
Stranger: “I wear no mask.”
Camilla: (Terrified, aside to Cassilda.) “No mask? No mask!”
It is also stated, in “The Repairer of Reputations”, that the final moment of the first act involves the character of Cassilda on the streets, screaming in a horrified fashion, “Not upon us, oh, king! Not upon us!”
SFWA (Cirsova): SFWA is a terrorist organization. For several years, we have remained agnostic on the Science Fiction and Fantasy Writers of America. While we have had a few friends who have had “beef” with SFWA, we have also had a number of authors and friends who have been members of the SFWA.
H. P. Lovecraft (Tentaculii): Derie’s comment on Lovecraft “approving as he did of Nazi Germany’s ultranationalism” could be be misunderstood, though. Firstly one has to know that “ultranationalism” has a specific political-historical meaning: ‘the arrogant belief in the complete superiority of one’s nation over others, and the placing of its interests above all other nations at all times’. In the cases of Imperial Japan, Nazi Germany, Soviet Russia etc this was accompanied by variations on the ‘cult-of-the-Emperor’. Ultranationalism has also spawned an equally perverse leftist flipside, which despises any pride in the nation and seeks to constantly denigrate it at every opportunity.
Fiction (Rough Edges): I meant to get back to this series of historical action/adventure novels set in ancient Rome sooner, but other books got in the way. However, I’ve now read BLOOD ON THE SAND, the fourth novel in the Gladiator series (originally published in England under the series title The Eagles). The author behind the Andrew Quiller house-name this time is the prolific Laurence James, who also wrote the first book in the series, HILL OF THE DEAD.
Sherlock Holmes (Digital Bibliophilia): I’ve seen a lot of articles over the years regarding the character of Solar Pons. Most recently my involvement in Kickstarting some of the MX Sherlock Holmes books by Belanger Books meant I was included in the notification that they were also looking to republish the complete Solar Pons series as originally authored by August Derleth. At the time I didn’t join in on the project, I’d already committed to a number of other products, and thought that these were a little out of my interest range.
Horror (DMR Books): Since the beginning of time the sea has inspired fear. It covers most of the earth and what lies beneath it we may never truly know. Anything can reside beneath the waves. Men have gone forth on it and discovered new lands, but these journeys are often costly in human lives. Horrors and dangers of the sea have made the way into mythology and legend. Creatures like the Norse Kraken and the Japanese Umibozu were said to attack ships.
RPG (Goodman Games): Skull & Crossbones Classics is the new zine from the one-and-only Bob Brinkman. Bob is not only one of the main forces behind the Sanctum Secorum podcast, but he’s a frequent contributor to many of our lines. You’ll find Bob’s name on products for Mutant Crawl Classics, DCC Lankhmar, Fifth Edition Fantasy, and much more. Now Bob has turned his eyes to the high seas and the golden age of pirates. And Bob is no stranger to the pirate genre, as anyone who has met him knows well. So we know this ship is in good hands!
Sensor Sweep: Michael Whelan, Sea Horror, Solar Pons, World of Tanks published first on https://sixchexus.weebly.com/
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the-gsos · 7 years
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Wizard and Glass Blether
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So I’ve been reading Stephen King’s Dark Tower series since the end of last year, when I decided I needed something to fill the epic fantasy series void while GRR Martin continues to do his ‘asthmatic ant with heavy shopping job’ on the Game of Thrones books.
I’m enjoying the books and the fourth volume, Wizard and Glass, which I’ve finished just recently, is probably my favourite so far, but I’ve got a few more specific thoughts on it that I’d like to share with the two or three of you that have clicked on this link, saw that the article isn’t about Italian football (or Scottish bars + pubs) and somehow, inexplicably decided to keep reading. Warning - it’s going to be pretty spoiler-ific throughout, I don’t really see any way to avoid that, so if you plan to read the books or you ARE reading them and just haven’t got to number four yet, you should probably give this a miss. Oh, and there’s the small matter of the film adaptation that’s released in just over a month’s time, which is apparently going to be followed by a TV series that specifically depicts the events of Wizard and Glass (which will sound like a weird idea to the uninitiated, but W&G is a prequel, y’see), so anyone planning on watching those without ever having read the books should also probably stop reading this.
Huzzah, now that I’ve thinned my readership down to about minus three, let’s begin!
My overall impression was that Wizard and Glass is that rare type of book that’s very good but could have been great if only it hadn’t taken the wrong turn at a few key plot junctions.
(Here, have you noticed that I’m adopting more of a conversational, almost vlogger-ish tone with this article? What was that “so” all about in the first line? Eurgh.)
In the intro that’s printed at the start of each Dark Tower book King talks about his inspiration for the series, how he realised at the age of 19 that he wanted to fuse The Lord of the Rings with the Spaghetti Western, to write “a novel that contained Tolkien’s sense of quest and magic but set against Leone’s almost absurdly majestic Western backdrop”. Now obviously I haven’t read volumes five, six, seven and eight yet, but of the first four books it seems to me that Wizard and Glass is the closest he comes to achieving that vision, albeit it does in many ways pick up the stylistic thread of the first volume, The Gunslinger. The Dark Tower books are a bit of a bewildering mixture of genres and influences, but whereas volumes two and three transport the reader (and characters) back and forth between New York in the sixties, seventies and eighties and dystopian, post-apocalyptic landscapes, one and four are basically Westerns with fantastical elements laced through them.
It’s no secret that King is willing and able to bash out some pretty hefty tomes, with The Stand, It and Under the Dome all clocking in at over 1,000 pages, and going by my extremely amateurish internet research Wizard and Glass is the joint fifth longest novel he’s ever penned (although different editions seem to have different numbers of pages; mine has 840, others have 787). That’s pretty remarkable when you stop and think about it, especially given that A) every other Dark Tower novel up until then had been 500 pages or less, and B) it’s essentially one big flashback, a story told round a campfire by protagonist Roland Deschain to quest companions Jake, Eddie and Susannah. The main plot, the one centred on the four characters I’ve just mentioned, only progresses about two inches forward in this enormous book.
The question is, does it need to be quite so long, and the answer is a pretty resounding no. Again, I must stress that I enjoyed it, the last time I read a book that long it took up six months of my life; this took roughly two, so ol’ Stevie’s obviously doing something right. However there are countless passages about the weather and nature in Mejis - where the tale is set - when one or two would have sufficed. Yes, they add a little atmosphere and help the reader envision Mejis, but they also give you the very strong suspicion that King is stalling for time.
“There followed a week of the sort of weather that makes folk apt to crawl back into bed after lunch…”
“The great storms of autumn were still a month or more distant…”
“Some called the Huntress the last moon of summer, some called it the first of fall…”
SO many chapters begin like this, and it’s particularly frustrating given that King has already assembled a great cast of characters by that point and established tension - of both the sexual and violent kind - between them. It’s almost like he’s written a brilliant script for a play and got all the actors he wanted, but is making them wait in the wings while he obsessively tinkers with the stage design and lighting.
Another bugbear is the teenage love story between Roland and Susan Delgado. King admits in his afterword that he procrastinated with the writing of Wizard and Glass because was “scared to death” of writing that story, and well, you can sort of see why. There isn’t a sock in the world strong enough to withstand the force that your toes curl upward with when reading these scenes, which soar beyond even Attack of the Clones’ Padme and Anakin love scenes on the cringe-ometer.
For example: “He uttered a small moaning sigh directly into her mouth. And as he drew her closer and began to trail kisses down her neck, she felt the stone hardness of him below the buckle of his belt, a slim, warm length which exactly matched the melting she felt in the same place. Those two places were meant for each other, as she was…”
Yeah, you get the picture.
That said, teenage love by its very nature is cloying and sickly sweet, King freely admits this sort of stuff isn’t his bag and there’s no way around it if we’re to fully understand why Roland is still so fixated on Susan so many years later. His relationship with her and the agonising manner in which it ends is the central, formative event of his entire life.
More than anything else though, the main thing stopping Wizard and Glass from ascending into the echelon of fantasy classics is the way the antagonists are dealt with. The Big Coffin Hunters are an undoubtedly brilliant creation. Reynolds and Depape may be slightly thinly sketched, but the physical touches - Reynolds’ long cloak, Depape’s gold-rimmed glasses - are enough to make them memorable, and the ringleader Eldred Jonas is a magnificent villain. Cunning, cold and mean, he’s a character that never loses his aura, even when he strides naked onto a balcony at one point. The scene is set for an almighty showdown between Jonas and Roland, but we don’t get one. Instead both Jonas and Depape are shot down easily and matter-of-factly by Roland out in the desert, and Reynolds escapes, but not to be put to any particular use in the remainder of the story. Part of the thinking behind this is presumably the need to demonstrate just how much of a badass Roland was even at the age of 14, and that’s fair enough. No-one’s expecting or wanting him to die; indeed, given the nature of prequels, we know that he can’t. But surely after establishing all that tension for all of those pages, and crafting such a formidable foe in the shape of Jonas, the reader deserves something a bit more prolonged, a bit less one-sided?
There’s also a hint of a bait and switch to it, as Rhea, the demented but ultimately deadly witch character, comes to the fore and plays a leading role in Susan’s demise. That particularly scene is incredibly well done, and while I don’t want to say that I ‘enjoyed’ reading about an innocent teenage girl being burned at the stake, it certainly lives with you.
One more thing: why do both Cuthbert and Alain survive after Roland has hinted at their demises in his interior monologues in the first three books? Does that mean future volumes will include yet more flashbacks? And would that be an admission that King is struggling to pad out the main plot? In fact, don’t tell me the answer to any of those questions.
Anyway, for all its flaws - which I hopefully  haven’t been too rant-ey about - Wizard and Glass is still a helluva page turner and hasn’t changed my mind about wanting to read the remaining books in the saga. I just wish King had made one or two better decisions when it came to the business end of things. Sort of makes you long for those Choose Your Own Adventure books of your childhood…
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