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colleendoran · 3 months

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Great Big Good Omens Graphic Novel Update

AKA A Visit From Bildad the Shuhite.

The past year or so has been one long visit from this guy, whereupon he smiteth my goats and burneth my crops, woe unto the woeful cartoonist.

Gaze upon the horror of Bildad the Shuhite.

You kind of have to be a Good Omens fan to get this joke, but trust me, it's hilarious.

Anyway, as a long time Good Omens novel fan, you may imagine how thrilled I was to get picked to adapt the graphic novel.

Go me!

This is quite a task, I have to say, especially since I was originally going to just draw (and color) it, but I ended up writing the adaptation as well. Tricky to fit a 400 page novel into a 160-ish page graphic novel, especially when so much of the humor is dependent on the language, and not necessarily on the visuals.

Not complainin', just sayin'.

Anyway, I started out the gate like a herd of turtles, because right away I got COVID which knocked me on my butt.

And COVID brain fog? That's a thing. I already struggle with brain fog due to autoimmune disease, and COVID made it worse.

Not complainin' just sayin'.

This set a few of the assignments on my plate back, which pushed starting Good Omens back.

But hey, big fat lead time! No worries!

Then my computer crawled toward the grave.

My trusty MAC Pro Tower was nearly 15 years old when its sturdy heart ground to a near-halt with daily crashes. I finally got around to doing some diagnostics; some of its little brain actions were at 5% functionality. I had no reliable backups.

There are so many issues with getting a new computer when you haven't had a new computer or peripherals in nearly fifteen years and all of your software, including your Photoshop program is fifteen years old.

At the time, I was still on rural internet...which means dial-up speed.

Whatever you have for internet in the city, roll that clock back to about 2001.

That's what I had. I not only had to replace almost all of my hardware but I had to load and update all programs at dial-up speed.

Welcome to my gigabyte hell.

The entire process of replacing the equipment and programs took weeks and then I had to relearn all the software.

All of this was super expensive in terms of money and time cost.

But I was not daunted! Nosirree!

I still had a huge lead time! I can do anything! I have an iron will!

And boy, howdy, I was going to need it.

At about the same time, a big fatcat quadrillionaire client who had hired me years ago to develop a big, major transmedia project for which I was paid almost entirely in stock, went bankrupt leaving everyone holding the bag, and taking a huge chunk of my future retirement fund with it.

I wrote a very snarky almost hilarious Patreon post about it, but am not entirely in a position to speak freely because I don't want to get sued. Even though I had to go to court over it, (and I had to do that over Zoom at dial-up speed,) I'm pretty sure I'll never get anything out of this drama, and neither will anyone else involved, except millionaire dude and his buddies who all walked away with huge multi-million dollar bonuses weeks before they declared bankruptcy, all the while claiming they would not declare bankruptcy.

Even the accountant got $250,000 a month to shut down the business, while creators got nothing.

That in itself was enough drama for the year, but we were only at February by that point, and with all those months left, 2023 had a lot more to throw at me.

Fresh from my return from my Society of Illustrators show, and a lovely time at MOCCA, it was time to face practical medical issues, health updates, screening, and the like. I did my adult duty and then went back to work hoping for no news, but still had a weird feeling there would be news.

I know everyone says that, but I mean it. I had a bad feeling.

Then there was news.

I was called back for tests and more tests. This took weeks. The ubiquitous biopsy looked, even to me staring at the screen in real time, like bad news.

It also hurt like a mofo after the anesthesia wore off. I wasn't expecting that.

Then I got the official bad news.

Cancer which runs in my family finally got me. Frankly, I was surprised I didn't get it sooner.

Stage 0, and treatment would likely be fast and complication-free. Face the peril, get it over with, and get back to work.

I requested surgery months in the future so I could finish Good Omens first, but my doc convinced me the risk of waiting was too great. Get it done now.

"You're really healthy," my doc said. Despite an auto-immune issue which plagues me, I am way healthier than the average schmoe of late middle age. She informed me I would not even need any chemo or radiation if I took care of this now.

So I canceled my appearance at San Diego Comic Con. I did not inform the Good Omens team of my issues right away, thinking this would not interfere with my work schedule, but I did contact my agent to inform her of the issue. I also contacted a lawyer to rewrite my will and make sure the team had access to my digital files in case there were complications.

Then I got back to work, and hoped for the best.

Eff this guy.

Before I could even plant my carcass on the surgery table, I got a massive case of ocular shingles.

I didn't even know there was such a thing.

There I was, minding my own business. I go to bed one night with a scratchy eye, and by 4 PM the next day, I was in the emergency room being told if I didn't get immediate specialist treatment, I was in big trouble.

I got transferred to another hospital and got all the scary details, with the extra horrid news that I could not possibly have cancer surgery until I was free of shingles, and if I did not follow a rather brutal treatment procedure - which meant super-painful eye drops every half hour, twenty-four hours a day and daily hospital treatment - I could lose the eye entirely, or be blinded, or best case scenario, get permanent eye damage.

What was even funnier (yeah, hilarity) is the drops are so toxic if you don't use the medication just right, you can go blind anyway.

Hi Ho.

Ulcer is on the right. That big green blob.

I had just finished telling my cancer surgeon I did not even really care about getting cancer, was happy it was just stage zero, had no issues with scarring, wanted no reconstruction, all I cared about was my work.

Just cut it out and get me back to work.

And now I wondered if I was going to lose my ability to work anyway.

Shingles often accompanies cancer because of the stress on the immune system, and yeah, it's not pretty. This is me looking like all heck after I started to get better.

The first couple of weeks were pretty demoralizing as I expected a straight trajectory to wellness. But it was up and down all the way.

Some days I could not see out of either eye at all. The swelling was so bad that I had to reach around to my good eye to prop the lid open. Light sensitivity made seeing out of either eye almost impossible. Outdoors, even with sunglasses, I had to be led around by the hand.

I had an amazing doctor. I meticulously followed his instructions, and I think he was surprised I did. The treatment is really difficult, and if you don't do it just right no matter how painful it gets, you will be sorry.

To my amazement, after about a month, my doctor informed me I had no vision loss in the eye at all. "This never happens," he said.

I'd spent a couple of weeks there trying to learn to draw in the near-dark with one eye, and in the end, I got all my sight back.

I could no longer wear contact lenses (I don't really wear them anyway, unless I'm going to the movies,) would need hard core sun protection for awhile, and the neuralgia and sun sensitivity were likely to linger. But I could get back to work.

I have never been more grateful in my life.

Neuralgia sucks, by the way, I'm still dealing with it months later.

Anyway, I decided to finally go ahead and tell the Good Omens team what was going on, especially since this was all happening around the time the Kickstarter was gearing up.

Now that I was sure I'd passed the eye peril, and my surgery for Stage 0 was going to be no big deal, I figured all was a go. I was still pretty uncomfortable and weak, and my ideal deadline was blown, but with the book not coming out for more than a year, all would be OK. I quit a bunch of jobs I had lined up to start after Good Omens, since the project was going to run far longer than I'd planned.

Everybody on the team was super-nice, and I was pretty optimistic at this time. But work was going pretty slow during, as you may imagine.

But again...lots of lead time still left, go me.

Then I finally got my surgery.

Which was not as happy an experience as I had been hoping for.

My family said the doc came out of the operating room looking like she'd been pulled backwards through a pipe, She informed them the tumor which looked tiny on the scan was "...huge and her insides are a mess."

Which was super not fun news.

Eff this guy.

The tumor was hiding behind some dense tissue and cysts. After more tests, it was determined I'd need another surgery and was going to have to get further treatments after all.

The biopsy had been really painful, but the discomfort was gone after about a week, so no biggee. The second surgery was, weirdly, not as painful as the biopsy, but the fatigue was big time.

By then, the Good Omens Kickstarter had about run its course, and the record-breaker was both gratifying and a source of immense social pressure.

I'd already turned most of my social media over to an assistant, and I'm glad I did.

But the next surgery was what really kicked me on my keister.

All in all, they took out an area the size of a baseball. It was hard to move and wiped me out for weeks and weeks. I could not take care of myself. I'd begun losing hair by this time anyway, and finally just lopped it off since it was too heavy for me to care for myself. The cut hides the bald spots pretty well.

After about a month, I got the go-ahead to travel to my show at the San Diego Comic Con Museum (which is running until the first week of April, BTW). I was very happy I had enough energy to do it. But as soon as I got back, I had to return to treatment.

Since I live way out in the country, going into the city to various hospitals and pharmacies was a real challenge. I made more than 100 trips last year, and a drive to the compounding pharmacy which produced the specialist eye medicine I could not get anywhere else was six hours alone.

Naturally, I wasn't getting anything done during this time.

But at least my main hospital is super swank.

The oncology treatment went smoothly, until it didn't. The feels don't hit you until the end. By then I was flattened.

So flattened that I was too weak to control myself, fell over, and smashed my face into some equipment.

Nearly tore off my damn nostril.

Eff this guy.

Anyway, it was a bad year.

Here's what went right.

I have a good health insurance policy. The final tally on my health care costs ended up being about $150,000. I paid about 18% of that, including insurance. I had a high deductible and some experimental medicine insurance didn't cover. I had savings, enough to cover the months I wasn't working, and my Patreon is also very supportive. So you didn't see me running a Gofundme or anything.

Thanks to everyone who ever bought one of my books.

No, none of that money was Good Omens Kickstarter money. I won't get most of my pay on that for months, which is just as well because it kept my taxes lower last year when I needed a break.

So, yay.

My nose is nearly healed. I opted out of plastic surgery, and it just sealed up by itself. I'll never be ready for my closeup, but who the hell cares.

I got to ring the bell.

I had a very, VERY hard time getting back to work, especially with regard to focus and concentration. My work hours dropped by over 2/3. I was so fractured and weak, time kept slipping away while I sat in the studio like a zombie. Most of the last six months were a wash.

I assumed focus issues were due (in part) to stress, so sought counseling. This seemed like a good idea at first, but when the counselor asked me to detail my issues with anxiety, I spent two weeks doing just that and getting way more anxious, which was not helpful.

After that I went EFF THIS NOISE, I want practical tools, not touchy feelies (no judgment on people who need touchy-feelies, I need a pragmatic solution and I need it now,) so tried using the body doubling focus group technique for concentration and deep work.

Within two weeks, I returned to normal work hours.

I got rural broadband, jumping me from dial up speed to 1 GB per second.

It's a miracle.

Massive doses of Vitamin D3 and K2. Yay.

The new computer works great.

The Kickstarter did so well, we got to expand the graphic novel to 200 pages. Double yay.

I'm running late, but everyone on the Good Omens team is super supportive. I don't know if I am going to make the book late or not, but if I do, well, it surely wasn't on purpose, and it won't be super late anyway. I still have months of lead time left.

I used to be something of a social media addict, but now I hardly ever even look at it, haven't been directly on some sites in over a year, and no longer miss it. It used to seem important and now doesn't.

More time for real life.

While I think the last year aged me about twenty years, I actually like me better with short hair. I'm keeping it.

OK. Rough year.

Not complainin', just sayin'.

Back to work on The Book.

And only a day left to vote for Good Omens, Neil Gaiman, and Sandman in the Comicscene Awards. Thanks.

#good omens graphic novel #good omens #terry pratchett #neil gaiman #dunmanifestin

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petite-madame · 3 months

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just so you know, it’s very obvious to actual artists that you’re posting AI and then lying that you’ve done it all by hand. kind of embarrassing, and more than a little fucked up.

Hi anon

This kind of nonsense usually ends up in the trash with a laugh but as it's my first "your art is AI", let's go! (It was just a matter of time, as practically all my artist friends got this kind of messages at this point)

it’s very obvious to actual artists...

Actual artists ? You mean, like me, a professional illustrator in her 40s, who has started drawing at the age of 8 and who has been drawing with a consistant art style for the past 15 years (with some improvements, thank god 🤓) ? People like you have accused me of tracing using tracing paper when I was a kid, tracing in Photoshop 15 years ago when I started to post on the internet and now my art is "AI". I should be used to it by now: when I posted this one 14 YEARS AGO, people told me it was traced and that "I wasn't a real artist, actual artists could tell"

I've consistently posted step by step, WIPs, vids, reels, gifs, shown the number of layers I use by art (sometimes more than 100) but apparently, it's never enough. And my art is AI generated ? Which one ?

So much for the Loki one, I apologize for the 0,3%…

Which is also funny is that fans of Supernatural, Good Omens, Sherlock, etc…have been able to say exactly which reference pictures I used for each drawing, not only for faces but sometimes also for the pose and the clothing (because yes, omg, I use reference pictures, the horror 😲)

However if you want to talk about my technique, and I've never hidden it, I sometimes use photos or 3D models for backgrounds because I hate drawing backgrounds. For instance the background of the Superwholock one is composed of a couple of stock pictures (a pub).

Same for a "Sherlock Harry Potter AU" I'll post in a month or so: some parts oh Hogwarts are screenshots from the movie because I didn't feel like drawing a room full of students.

Also, is there sometimes mistakes in my art that don't make sense ? Yes, nothing new, I make mistakes, I've been doing it for years and I still do it, particularly when it comes to anatomy. I want to pull my hair out when I notice them weeks (sometimes months) later but here we are.

Anyway, people like you who throw "it's AI" accusations all over the Internet better think twice because the result is this.

Don't get me wrong, I get the AI paranoia but instead of sending messages to artists like this one, ask kindly about their process, their technique, etc…and also, have a look at their archive, it could help.

I'm leaving you now, I have AI art to generate (= spending 10 hours per drawing using reference pictures, finding inspiration from classical painting, using about 100 layers and stressing about the art not being good enough).

Have a great weekend!

#pmasks #my first “it's AI”#a change from “you trace” and death threats I suppose

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jeanbie · 3 months

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IF I LAY HERE (WOULD YOU LIE WITH ME?) ★ masterlist.

pairing: eren x reader

genre: best friends-to-lovers-au, actor au, fluff mostly | warnings: fem!reader | wc: 2.6k

note: hey. i still love u guys and i am still pining over aot. will never stop probably. anyway, this was an older fic i wrote but i'm handing it down to eren! title is taken/inspired from chasing cars by snow patrol (my fav song)

⏤ Eren has had enough - it's been four months since he's last seen you, and he's not going to let his fame status keep him from seeing you any longer. He just hopes that you feel the same way when you see him again.

Eren was taking a pretty big risk, he knew that.

It was risky taking any step out of his apartment at any moment; he’d think he was safe until he made it to the end of the road, earphones snug in his ears, and the flash of a camera behind the bushes in the corner of his eye blinds him back to his front door in a twisted shame.

Granted, he’d expected it to be worse now that he'd booked a plane ticket and made a rather hasty, in-the-moment journey to the airport and on a plane with no layover. Usually when Eren takes a journey overseas, there’s at least one or two fans hiding in the corner of the suites waiting for him, or someone on the plane who’d recognise his face.

For this, he’d suck it up and take a photo. It was better to have good PR and be a little bit pissed off that he’d been discovered, than to have bad PR and to be known as the actor from Attack on Titan who didn’t give a damn about the people who essentially made him and his friends famous.

But Eren thought the risk was worth it this time. The plane touched down in a different country, and from there, it was an hour long train journey to a station he didn’t know anything about to meet a friend of yours he’d only seen in Instagram pictures.

You were at university now, a face he saw on a screen rather than a face he quite literally saw every day months before. It had been four months since Eren had seen his best friend, and fuck anybody who was going to make him wait a second longer before seeing you again.

You were his greatest risk, but it was worth it. You were worth it.

“Fuck, it’s insane to actually be meeting you right now.”

Frank is a good guy, ginger with circle glasses resting on the end of his roundish nose. He led Eren out of the train station, offering to pull his suitcase for him. “I mean, I’m a huge fan.” Followed by a sigh and a quiet, “Who isn’t…?”

Eren smiled at him, squinting in the sun as it hit his eyes in the direction of Frank’s face. “Thanks. I hear a lot about you, too.”

Frank grinned, whipping his head towards Eren. “All sexy and scandalous things, I hope. You know, none of us believed Y/N when she said she knew you. We thought the pictures were Photoshopped, you know how she is.” They both paused by the side of the road waiting to cross, “Shit, she’s gonna freak out when she sees you.”

That was three minutes ago, but Eren's still playing that sentence on a loop in his head. She's gonna freak out when she sees you.

He walks alongside Frank down one of the streets, past a redundant furniture store that quirks his brows. He’s missed it here, and how unbelievably, shockingly awful it all looks when you’re not looking at picturesque photos of it online.

“I thought you’d know that Y/N’s my best friend,” Eren says thoughtfully. He pauses as Frank does as a car zooms past when they’re about to cross. “I mean, people know. The photos got leaked, all of them.”

“Hey, give me a break,” Frank says dramatically. “I only really became a super fan three months ago. I'm more into Levi, you know how it goes. And yeah, I figured it out eventually. Finally, I understood why so many people at this uni wanted photographs with her and to be her best friend…”

Eren frowns. “Is it bad? She doesn’t tell me this stuff on the phone. I mean, they go crazy online when she posts pictures and we interact, but I didn’t…”

Frank shakes his head and grins at Eren as the words die out in his mouth.

“Nah, don’t panic. It’s not that bad. If anything, she might get a kick out of the fame. Trust, there’s always gonna be the girls who hate her because she’s friends with you and that’s like, what, threatening to their fantasy? But she loves you a lot, and a friendship like yours…it’s kinda like family, you know?”

Eren feels his stomach flip, butterflies going haywire. These butterflies are bitter and relentlessly fast, his heart racing that extra bit quicker. He likes the sound of family. He doesn’t like the way Frank implies it, because if Eren is ever going to consider you as family, it won’t be as his sister.

You’ve never been his sister, even when you became part of his family growing up on special occasions, or even just on a daily basis when you came to visit. There were times his family called you their own, but you were never his sister. It was different than that; you both knew it but never dared acknowledge it.

Frank makes small talk until they make it to the student accomodation you currently live at, and because Frank knows basically everybody, a student comes to the gate to let them both in. They’re nice and tall, wearing an Aston Villa shirt that Eren remembers looks a lot like your dad’s back in the day. Might be the same kind, might be a vintage.

He smiles at him, because maybe this guy knows Eren, but then the guy just turns back into the common room and doesn’t come out again. Frank doesn’t live here - he lives in a flat of his own around the corner, but Frank might as well be a resident here. He lets himself in towards the lift and shoots a text to one of your flatmates.

“Apparently she’s in the shower,” Frank says casually. He locks his phone, taps his foot as the lift rises, “Let’s hope she doesn’t stride out completely stark naked as you’re in there.”

He almost blushes, “Ha, yeah.”

He declines to mention the times you two have showered together, the time you went skinny dipping together when you were seventeen. Those were things that might end up getting misunderstood, and those are his memories he’d like to keep a secret. He says nothing, nothing but a thank you when he enters your flat with Frank and takes a different turn to the left whereas Frank goes right, towards the kitchen.

Your room is at the very end, your name on the door in stickers from a set you got from the market, and from inside, he hears the music in the bathroom. The door opens silently and closes with the same volume, and Eren manages to wheel his suitcase to the end of the bed and plonks himself down.

As expected from pixels on the screen, your room looks better in person - white walls and a bed set that’s white and covered with little peonies. Above your desk, Eren recognises all your photos together, new polaroids of you and the friends you’ve made at university who Eren always felt kind of threatened by. He smiles to himself, and rests his head against the wall your bed is attached to. From here, he can see the bathroom door in the mirror on the opposite wall, but he knows you’ll only see his feet when you come out.

Speaking of which; the song playing in the bathroom ends suddenly and the shower water has stopped running. Eren hears the toilet flush and his heart starts to race.

Four months of falling asleep on Facetime and texting when there was no time left in the day, and now, here he is, on your bed, waiting for you to step out and… And, then what?

Maybe you wouldn't even want him here. Maybe you were happier now that Eren was travelling the world with his other friends and film crew while you were still here, in a new city with new friends and a new life. Maybe the memory of Eren was burdensome to you. Worse - maybe he was something you felt you had to remember but didn’t really want to.

Eren's always been scared of the rejection he might receive from you. He might be a dream for fans across the world, but there’s a split second where Eren feels like he might not be good enough for you. He’s the world to other people. But you deserve the whole galaxy, and he’s afraid that’s something that he might not ever be able to give you, even with all the money and the fame.

The bathroom door opens and in two seconds, the light is shut off and he hears you sigh.

“Jesus, Frank, you gotta stop letting yourself in here without telling me,” your voice says. “Good thing I’m semi-decent. Usually I’m not.”

“No fun,” Eren teases, and silence follows. There’s a pause, and Eren cocks his head, his left cheek on his shoulder, waiting for you to click and appear in front of him.

Suddenly, he hears small but quick thuds across the carpet and Eren feels his chest tighten with a nostalgic feeling when you come into view with wide eyes, damp hair and nothing but a bra and those stupid black worn leggings you refuse to throw out.

The grin that reaches Eren's eyes now aches as he laughs at you, at the way you gape at his presence. It takes a moment, a moment of what feels like could be the rejection that Eren absolutely fears, but then you smile so wide that Eren feels it in his stomach.

“Holy shit!” you exclaim loudly, bringing a hand to your mouth as you hurry towards the bed. It dips beneath your knees and Eren rises up to a more comfortable position. “What the fuck!”

He laughs out loud, and when Eren wastes zero time in bringing you into his arms, hugging you tightly.

“Careful, my hair’s all wet,” you squeak.

“Don’t care.”

He really doesn’t. There’s probably going to be a damp spot on his clothes after, but that’s okay. You groan loudly with happiness as you hug him in return as tightly as he is hugging you, your weight on his lap and your arms around his neck.

Eren smiles so wide, sighing with content into your neck. Here, he smells the marshmallow body wash on your skin, the fragrance of your hair that kind of reminds him of Cabbage Patch babies.

“You smell good,” he mutters. You laugh quietly, squirming when his nose sniffs across your neck like one would kiss. “I don’t.”

“You do, you always smell good,” you reply. One sniff, he laughs, “See!”

“Mmm,” he plays along, “the sweet smell of planes and trains and jet lag.”

That makes you laugh, and at the mention of jet lag, Eren realises he could probably fall asleep like this given the chance. He has missed this, missed you, so fucking much. The emotions are overwhelming.

Eren kisses behind your earlobe, and then just underneath your jaw. That’s new. Eren was always a cheek-kiss kind of best friend, but never this.

You’re not complaining. Your head drops to one side, almost giving him more access to the space free, and he occupies it. Those fucking butterflies; Eren feels sick with nerves as he kisses you, under your chin and across your neck, on that spot on your collarbone you found out tickled after Seven Minutes in Heaven in Year 8.

Maybe your fingernails in his hair are a way of you telling him to stop - it’s something he can think about tonight if he can’t fall asleep, something he doesn’t care to think about when he kisses on your actual jawline, to your cheek and the corner of your mouth, your cupid’s bow.

He moves away with a blush that matches your own, but maybe you can’t see his in the colour of your fairy lights. He plays with the dazed confusion on your face as he moves the hair from across your face to around your ears, smiling and raising his eyebrows.

“Your hair is so fucking wet,” he sniggers boyishly.

“I told you,” you shrug. You shrink, relaxed, “Fuck, why are you here? I mean, I’m literally so happy, but… Are you gonna get in trouble for this?”

“I dunno,” he admits. “Maybe, probably. I mean…the guys know I’m here. Jean drove me to the airport with Armin.”

“That’s not what I mean, though.”

Eren sighs loudly. “Yeah, I know. Frank told me all about the girls.”

“Little fucker. Is he here? I’ll punch him for mentioning it to you. It’s honestly fine. It's only a few. Most are really nice!”

“You’re my best friend for life, it’s important to me that you’re not uncomfortable by--”

“I’m not,” you assure him, hands trapped in his hair. You frown and try to change the subject, “Damn, this got long. Didn’t look long over the phone.”

“I've been growing it out,” Eren replies. “Heard you fancied Keanu Reeves, couldn’t handle the competition.”

“Ha!” you retort. “Simp.”

“For you,” frowns Eren dramatically.

Conversation fizzles comfortably, to the point where you both forget that Eren's underneath you and your legs are wrapped like a koala around his middle.

The fact that this is normality for you both is ignored. You’ve done worse things together. Eren even knows that the bra you’re wearing now is one he bought for you, half as a joke, half not. That could be why Eren feels the way that he does, why the confusion wraps around his body and traps him.

Eren knows that the butterflies in his stomach don’t just appear because you’re his best friend he hasn’t seen in a while. He knows what they mean when they flutter when your name pops up when you’re calling him, when an interviewer tries to catch him out by bringing you up in another interview that you don’t need to be mentioned in.

Eren knows that coming here was worth the confusion, and the nerves, and the fact that this will be a headline when it gets out. EREN YEAGER GOES TO VISIT HIS BEST FRIEND…BUT ARE THEY MORE? Or worse, NETIZENS HAVE PROOF THAT A.O.T EREN IS DATING HIS BEST FRIEND Y/N…

He doesn’t want to hurt you. That’s why he feels scared. For you to be scandalised by an article online that caught him out in his feelings, he knew it wasn’t fair. Eren might be too afraid to say he’s in love, and too afraid to find out if you feel it too, if all those years of confused relations and flirtations meant anything, but he’d risk those feelings and the headlines if it meant being able to spend one more day with you.

Eren's got a week and a half with you. Something’s gotta give within this week. He doesn’t want to go back to filming with more regrets than he came here with, and so for now, he’ll just have to swallow those butterflies back down when they pour out of his mouth.

Right now, he can’t afford to be caught out. It has to be said on his own terms, when the timing is perfect. It has to be perfect, because it’s what you deserve. It has to be perfect, because if it isn’t, then Eren doesn’t think it will be worth it.

Losing you to a headline and a butterfly is out of the question. You hop off him and shrug on a jumper from out of your wardrobe. If you noticed his unease, then you didn’t mention it. He almost wants to cry, wants the confusion to go away for the night so he can enjoy being here.

Fuck.

For now, he thinks as he follows you with an arm around your shoulders out of your bedroom and towards the kitchen to meet the others, he’ll just have to fake it 'til he makes it. Just like always. Put on a face, put on a show, until it all feels worth the spillage. He can’t let the butterflies escape yet.

It has to be perfect, and until then, he’ll just have to be patient, even if it breaks his heart more by pretending.

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from-the-clouds · 1 year

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texas sun - joel miller x f!reader - vol. 1

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summary: When you let your new neighbor’s daughter inside to call her father from your landline, you never expect to be dealing with the fallout twenty years later. Series will take place before and after the outbreak, and is partially inspired by this request. Slow-burn(ish), eventual smut. pairing: pre-outbreak!joel miller x f!reader words: 6.4k chapter warnings: mentions of/encounters with a drunk person, references to absent parents, i imply that both reader (and joel) like pineapple on pizza. a/n: i need to get my shit together and make a proper masterlist/post for this series but i'm absolute garbage with photoshop/making collages so that is a project for another day!! for now, i wanted to get this first part out to ya'll. i watched a playthrough of the game too so ill be including some references to that throughout the series. this will be some hallmark-movie ass romance so strap in!! this chapter was super fun to write and i loved writing for reader and sarah, give it a read and let me know what you think!

-March 7, 2003-

“Excuse me? Ma’am? Excuse me?”

The voice behind you is so timid you don’t hear it right away, especially not when your phone is pressed to your ear with your shoulder as you sort through the mail, your coworker droning on and on…

“Ma’am?”

It’s a little more forceful this time, a little closer too, and that’s when it finally gets your attention. Turning around on your heel, you find a young girl standing behind you, one hand hooked in the strap of her backpack that hangs off of one thin shoulder, the other worrying about the butterfly pendant of the necklace she’s wearing.

You recognize her immediately as one of your neighbors, the girl from across the street whose name you didn’t know yet, because you only moved in about two months ago. You’d met the man who you assumed was her father – Joe? Or was it Joel?, you couldn’t remember – the first day you’d moved in, but there had been so much going on that you were too flustered to be engaged.

It’s a Friday, but apparently that doesn’t keep you safe from work calls after you leave the office, because you’re getting an earful of a whole lot of hot air, so much so that you’re probably unintentionally frowning at the girl in front of you while you try to follow the conversation.

“....I think you’re right, but they’re not going to budge unless we sweeten the deal somehow-”

“Can I call you back?” you blurt, ultimately thankful for the interruption. You don’t even wait for his response before you click off your blackberry, sighing, looking up. “Hi, yeah, sorry. Can I help you?”

“Uhm, I’m Sarah…..Miller….I live across the street?” her voice goes up slightly at the end of the sentence, like she’s unsure, even as she points to the home behind her, a two-story place that’s considerably bigger than your own, but maybe a little older. “I uhm…I locked myself out and I was wondering if I could use your phone…to call my dad at work? Please?”

“Oh, yeah,” you say. “That’s fine. Just uh..follow me I guess.”

Tucking the stack of mail in your hand under your arm, you wave her after you, your kitten heels clicking on the hard pavement of your driveway.

“Be careful here,” you warn her as you step over the middle step to your front porch that has rotted, and gives easily under any amount of weight. You’d learned about it the hard way, last week, and still had the bruise on your leg to show for it.

Your front door is open, and Sarah pauses to take off her shoes when you do, a pair of beat-up white Converse that have been doodled on in Sharpie.

“Here, phone’s right there,” you lead her into the kitchen and point to the landline. “Can I get you anything to drink?”

“Uhm, could I just get some water…please?” She stands rigidly in your kitchen, rocking back and forth on her heels.

“Of course,” you reach into the cabinet. Once the glass is filled and placed in front of her, you retreat to your front living area to give her some privacy while she makes the call, sitting on the couch and scrolling through unanswered emails on your blackberry. Sarah mumbles indiscreetly, until you hear her call out again.

“Uhm…ma’am…I’m sorry, Miss…uh-what’s your last name?”

“Oh,” you sit up, giving her your first instead.

“Okay….Uh, my dad wants to talk to you…could you-”

“Sure,” you stand, stepping back into the kitchen, and accepting the receiver from the girl.

“Hello?”

“Hey, this is Joel Miller,” you’re greeted with a low, gruff drawl. “You’re the new neighbor, I believe introduced myself a while back”

“Joel,” you repeat. It’s Joel. Joel, Joel, Joel, you force yourself to remember. Joel and Sarah Miller. “Yes, we met very briefly.”

“And it sounds like you met Sarah.”

“Yeah.”

On the other end of the line, you hear him hesitate, let out a long sigh. “Look, I hate to put you out, but she lost her key to the house, and she tells me the Adlers aren’t home. Do you think she could stay at your place until I’m able to get off work in a couple hours? I know it’s a big ask, but-”

“Of course she can,” you cut him off, peering over your shoulder at Sarah, who’s staring up at you expectantly with wide, terrified eyes.

“Really?”

“Yeah, it’s no big deal.”

“She’s probably got homework so I’ll make sure she stays quiet and out of your way. I’m so sorry, she should know better than this. It’s the second time this month this has happened, I keep tellin’ her-”

“Like I said, it’s not a big deal,” you cut him off, unintentionally, before wondering if it was rude you didn’t let him finish. It’s the native New Yorker in you, always in a rush and uninterested in drawn-out excuses. It’s an unfortunate instinct you’ve been trying to train yourself out of, particularly now that you’re living in the southwest. You soften your tone. “She can stay as long as she needs to, seriously. I don’t have anything planned.”

“Okay,” the voice on the other end sounds relieved. “Thank you. Thank you so much. I should be home by nine, I’ll call if anything changes. Thanks so much.”

“Of course, we’ll be fine. See you soon.” You hang up.

Sarah is still behind you when you turn around, clutching the glass of water she’s got in both hands like a vice. “You can stay here until your dad gets home,” you tell her.

“Did….did he sound mad?”

“Maybe a little stressed,” you’re honest. “But….not mad. I also don’t know him, so…”

“I bet he’ll be mad. This is the second time I’ve locked myself out this month because I forgot my key, and I already got lectured once that last time because he had to leave work early.”

“You made a mistake, people forget things…” you shrug. “I’m sure he’ll get over it.”

Her shoulders relax slightly, and she looks around like it’s the first time she’s actually registered where she’s at. “You have a nice house. It’s cozy.”

“Thanks,” you put your hands on your hips and look around too. “I’m still settling in, so not everything’s unpacked, but I could give you a tour if you’d like?”

“Yes ma’am.”

Ma’am. That tickles you. The address is still not something you’re used to hearing, even though you’ve only been in Austin a few years. “You can just call me by my first name, you know? Ma’am makes me feel old.”

“Really?” she grins, following you down the hall. “I can’t wait to be old.”

“You’ll feel differently someday,” you answer. “But…I guess it’s not so bad.”

Compared to the house you grew up in, your new house is nothing special, but it’s yours, and you couldn’t be prouder that you’d bought it all on your own. It’s a three-bedroom ranch, and you’d converted one of the rooms into an office for yourself. There’s a kitchen, living room, and den. But your favorite part is your large, screened in back porch that overlooks your yard. Now that it’s getting closer to summer, you sit outside in the mornings with a cup of tea and read the newspaper, listen to the birds.

“Can I do my homework at your kitchen table?” Sarah asks once you’re finished showing her around.

“Make yourself comfortable wherever,” you answer. “I could probably stand to get a little work done myself.”

Sarah sits at your dining room table, spreads out her books, and works quietly while you answer some emails and look over some contracts. You’ve got a big meeting Monday with a potential client, and a giant stack of term sheets to go through, but if you could manage to get some of it done tonight it might actually help you down the line. As much as possible, you try to avoid doing too much work outside of your office’s standard hours, but sometimes, it’s inevitable.

The subject Sarah has homework in is algebra, which renders you useless. Even when you have to do any accounting at work, you’re used to having a calculator nearby. It’d been awhile since you spent time with anyone as young as she was – in sixth grade, she told you – and it was starting to serve as a confirmation of your own dysfunctional childhood, because her carefree, sweet nature was so drastically different from anything you remembered feeling.

After about an hour, Sarah slowly starts to close her notebooks, zipping her pencils back up in plastic pouches. You look up from making revisions on a contract, the smell of blue ink heavy in the air around you. “I’m done,” she announces. “Could I sit on your couch and read?”

“Of course,” you answer. “Give me five and I’ll join you.”

It doesn’t take long for you to find a good stopping point, and you pack up your messenger bag, and join Sarah in the living room. “So…I’m starting to get hungry,” you tell her. “Are you?”

Sarah nods sheepishly.

“I could order us something,” you said. “What do you like?”

You aren’t much of a chef, though you can generally figure your way out around any recipe. However, cooking for one is notoriously tedious. If you had multiple mouths to feed, maybe you’d be tempted to hone your skills in the kitchen a little more. Most nights you usually treated yourself to a depressing, hastily thrown together salad, scrambled eggs, or a PB&J. Tonight, you had actually been planning to take yourself out to dinner – there’s a cute little French bistro down the street and you were hoping to treat yourself to a cocktail and a nice meal while you read.

Sarah closes her book, contemplating. “Could we….get a pizza?”

You think about it. “Sure, yeah. Pepperoni…cheese?”

“Can we get….one of both?” she tests.

“Yeah, we can do both,” You smile. “I bet your dad will be hungry, too, he can have some if he wants.”

“Maybe…he likes pineapple on his,” Sarah wrinkles her nose.

“He has good taste. I do too.”

“Gross.”

“Don’t worry, I’ll keep them separate,” you call over your shoulder as you retreat to the kitchen.

Once the pizza is ordered, you return to your living room and curl up on the opposite side of the couch from Sarah, who is engrossed back in her book. “They told me about 30 minutes. What are you reading?”

“To Kill A Mockingbird,” she says, showing you the cover.

“That was one of my favorites growing up.”

“I have to read it for school…but it’s pretty good so far.”

Your phone pings with another email, and you glance at it quickly.

“Is that work?” she asks.

You nod. “Yeah. It still finds you, even when you leave.”

“What do you do?”

“I’m a lawyer.”

“No way!” Sarah perks up. “Like on the tv shows? That’s so cool.”

You snort, shaking your head. “No, not exactly. I’m a corporate lawyer so it’s not as fun, actually, it’s just a lot of paperwork and meetings…”

“So…you don’t like it, then?”

“It’s….” you think about it. “....Fine.” Did you like your job? It wasn’t really something you thought about in that way, you’d always seen it as a means to an end. “I went to law school because my dad wanted me to…he wanted me to work for him someday. And…that didn’t pan out so…yeah. But you know…it pays well, and….”

“You get to wear cool outfits,” she gestures to you.

“Yeah, I guess I do. Although the heels do get a little uncomfortable.”

Sarah’s eyes shift behind you for a second to the hallway leading to your bedroom, then widen excitedly. “You have a cat?”

You turn around to see what she’s looking at, the white and gray ball of fluff that you’d found underneath a dumpster one late night in college.

“Yeah, that’s Martini.”

“Martini,” she giggles, and the cat approaches her cautiously. He’s notoriously shy and quiet, and not even particularly cuddly, but he likes to sleep at the foot of your bed and will sit next to you on the couch if you stay still for long enough.

The cat sniffs Sarah’s outstretched hand, then presses his face into Sarah’s palm so she can scratch him under his chin, his favorite spot. “He’s not usually a fan of strangers, he must like you.”

“I love animals,” she says. “My dad won’t let me get a pet because he says he’ll end up taking care of it.”

You chuckle. “Cats are pretty easy…at least, he is.”

Martini allows himself about twenty seconds worth of affection before he darts out of the room and heads to his food bowl.

“I’m gonna go change out of my work clothes, I’ll be right back,” you push yourself off the couch and walk down the hallway. Any other night and you probably would’ve been in pajamas awhile ago but that’s probably not acceptable, so you settle for jeans and a sweater, which is much more comfortable than the dress and tights you had been in before.

The pizza arrives and after you tip the driver, set it on your kitchen island and pull some plates out of your cupboard. You and Sarah are both long settled with full plates when you speak again.

“Wow….I forgot how good pizza is…” you say, staring at the half eaten piece in your hand.

“You don’t eat pizza?”

“Usually only when I’m drunk,” you say, then immediately realize you’re talking to an eleven year old. “Oops, I…probably shouldn’t be telling you that.”

She giggles. “It’s okay.”

“So, it’s just you and your dad across the street?” you ask. “Does your mom live with you?”

The second the question registers, you immediately regret asking. Sarah shrinks before you, her face dropping, shaking her head. “No I…I don’t really have a mom.”

“I’m sorry,” you say, softly. You just assumed she existed although you’d never seen her, and you feel guilty, racking your brain for something that might help make her feel better. “I understand, my mom wasn’t really around growing up.”

“She wasn’t?” Sarah asked, looking up.

You shake your head. “My parents got divorced when I was young, my dad took us, and she moved across the country, so….I didn’t see much of her.”

“My mom… she left when I was a baby.”

“I’m sorry.” You say again, staring at the girl in front of you.

For a moment, looking at her, you see yourself, and you wonder how a parent can wake up one day and choose to ignore someone that’s one half of themselves. Someone they made. If they really understood what that might do to a person’s psyche, growing up thinking that they weren’t wanted. You had always told yourself that your mother, your parents must have not understood, because if they did, and they still chose to do it…

“Are you married?” Sarah asks, and you’re snapped out of your train of thought.

Taking a bite of pizza, you shake your head no.

“So you live here alone?”

You nod, chewing.

“Do you like it?”

You nod, swallow. “It’s better than having a roommate, or living in the city.”

Standing up, you walk towards the fridge for a can of sparkling water. It hisses while you open it, and you lean over the counter while Sarah continues to drill you. “Do you ever get….scared? Like at night?”

“No….not really. I have locks. And this is a safe neighborhood. And uh, I may or may not have a nightlight still.”

Sarah giggles. “Me too.”

There’s a sturdy knock on your screen door, which you’d left open to let in the cool spring breeze, and you notice Sarah’s eyes widen. “I bet that’s my dad.”

As if he heard her, and maybe he did, the guest calls out. “It’s Joel!” It’s the same voice from over the phone, but much clearer.

“Come in,” you answer.

The screen door creaks open, the sound of boots shuffling inside. “Sarah?” It’s the same voice from the phone. Joel steps into the warm light of the kitchen.

When you first met it had been from a distance, you were carrying boxes and he was loading something into the back of his truck. It’s clear you hadn’t gotten a good enough look at him, wouldn’t have forgotten his name, because fuck, he’s kind of gorgeous…tan skin, dark wavy hair, and a sharp jawline covered in stubble. In the archway to your kitchen he looks huge, taller than you remembered.

“Hi Dad,” Sarah says. “Miss-“

You cut her off simply by saying your first name. “Nice to meet you…again.”

“It’s nice to meet you, too, and thank you so much for keeping an eye on her. We’ll get out of your ha-”

“We got you pizza,” Sarah pipes up, looking at him. You can tell that she’s trying to stall. Or at least, trying to offer him something that might soften the inevitable lecture she’s going to get. It’s a smart play, and definitely not something you would’ve been above trying at her age.

Joel looks at the three pizza boxes spread across your countertop. “You didn’t have to feed her, really, like I said, she should’ve known better,” he turns to look at her pointedly.

“I had to eat anyway. Please, help yourself. There’s a ton of leftovers,” You really did not want cold pizza in your fridge, because it’d be too tempting to eat as a late night snack or even breakfast on your way out the door in the mornings.

Reluctantly, he looks at you before taking a plate. “Thank you,” he turns to his daughter while he opens one of the boxes. “Did you get your homework done?”

Sarah nods. “And I got ahead on my reading for English.”

“That’s good.”

Joel turns back to you, settles in a chair with the plate of food in front of him at the island. You do the same. “I’m sorry I haven’t had the time to come over and properly introduce myself. Sarah too.”

You shrug. “I’m the new neighbor, that’s probably my responsibility anyways. It’s been kind of hectic settling in.”

“Where’d you move from?”

“Well, I’ve been in Austin for the past few years, but originally I’m from Manhattan.”

Joel nods. “Why Texas?”

It’s far away from my insane family, you think, and then settle on something else. “Work.”

Sarah is staring at her plate and tearing a piece of crust into tiny pieces. Joel eyes the slice of pizza he’s just taken a bite of.

“Pineapple?” he looks over at Sarah. “Are you tryin’ to bribe me so you don’t get in trouble?”

“It’s my favorite, too,” you offer, then wink at Sarah when Joel isn’t looking. She tilts her head down, her hair hiding the grin on her face from her father.

A buzzing sound cuts through the room before Joel can answer, and he digs in his pocket to fish out his cell phone. “Hold on, I gotta take this.”

When he steps out of the room, you begin to clear the empty boxes and plates off your kitchen island and bring them over to the sink. Sarah brings her plate over as well, stands next to you at the sink while you rinse them off and load them in the dishwasher.

“Thank you for dinner,” she says.

“Of course,” you answer.

“I just really hope he’s not disappointed with me.”

Placing your hand between her shoulder blades, you give her an encouraging pat. “I don’t think he is….” you hear Joel on the phone in the other room, his voice rising in volume. “....and honestly….it sounds like he might have bigger fish to fry…”

“Tommy…are you fucking kidding me? Again? How many times is this gonna happen? Okay…fine. fine. I’ll be there soon, but you can’t keep doing this shit.”

Sarah grimaces, and you both turn back to the sink sheepishly when you hear Joel’s footsteps returning. She bumps you with her elbow while you clear your throat.

You’re sure there’s still a residual smile on your face when you turn around to face Joel, who has his hands on his hips. “Alright, Sarah, we gotta get going.”

“Is everything okay with Uncle Tommy?”

“No, I’ve gotta pick him up at the police station.”

“Did he drink too much again?”

“Sarah!” Joel exclaims. “Please, it’s gettin’ late and you’ve got a soccer game tomorrow, you need to get to bed.”

You’re biting your lower lip so hard to keep from laughing you almost taste blood. It’s not funny, definitely not funny to Joel, who you can tell is having a rough night, but it’s objectively funny as an outsider, watching all their familial drama being put on blast by his daughter who doesn’t quite have a filter yet, and is first and foremost trying to protect herself from getting into trouble.

“She’s a lawyer, I bet she could help Tommy,” Sarah looks over at you. “Couldn’t you?”

Joel frowns. “That’s not how that works-”

“What’d they bring him in for?” you ask.

Joel runs a hand through his hair. “Public intoxication. Are you really a lawyer?”

“Well…I’m a corporate lawyer so that wouldn’t really be my specialty. But uh…I’ve definitely been able to talk my friends out of that kind of thing before.”

“But this is not the first time,” Joel says. “It’s probably useless.”

“Didn’t you say you can’t afford to keep-”

“Sarah, enough.” Joel’s voice is as stern as you’ve heard it, and he digs into his pocket, producing a keychain. “Go home and get ready for bed. I’ll be home in a minute.”

Sarah sighs, defeated. “Okay.”

Joel stands dead still while she shuffles to the door, cramming her feet in her shoes with her backpack slung over her shoulder.

By this point in the evening, you’d usually be curled up on your couch by the fireplace with your latest knitting project, moderately stoned, watching bad reality television and sipping sleepytime herbal tea. But your night has already gone drastically different from your expectation. Why stop now? “If you wanted…I could try to help.”

Joel shakes his head, looks at the floor. “I can’t ask that of you.”

“You didn’t ask,” you shrug. “I offered.”

He looks up, a soft smile breaks across his face, revealing a row of straight, sparkling teeth, the corners of his eyes crinkling. It’s the first sincere smile you’ve ever seen from him, and your knees feel a little weak at the sight of it. You think you might offer him anything just to see it again. “It’d be a huge favor. But….I’d appreciate it.”

“Alright well…” you look around, push yourself off the countertop. “I probably should change before we go. I don’t think I’ll be taken seriously in this.”

He chuckles. “Yeah, I need to make sure Sarah gets to bed alright, how ‘bout you meet me on my porch in ten?”

“I’ll be there.”

“Thanks again,” he raps his knuckles on the counter twice before retreating, and you stay in place until you hear the screen door close behind him.

─── ･｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

“I feel like you’re meeting us all at a very chaotic time….I promise, things aren’t usually like this.”

Joel’s not sure why he feels the need to clarify this to you on the drive to the police station. In fact, he might be saying it more to convince himself, because he thinks ever since Sarah’s mom ran off, things have never not been chaotic.

In some ways, he’s glad it happened. It was a doomed relationship from the start, they’d both been far too young to understand the consequences of their actions, so it was probably for the better that she was no longer around. But he was caught in a constant state of feeling like he could never quite get a handle on things.

Joel glances over at you in the passenger's seat of his truck. He decides that you look a little out of place there, dressed in a black pantsuit, a messenger bag tucked between your heel-clad feet. He can’t remember the last time there was an adult woman in his car. Three months, maybe? It had been a date, a third date, and subsequently, a last date. But right now the context is different.

Your head is tilted towards the open window, the breeze casting stray pieces of your hair around as the radio cuts in and out of an old Eagles song and then to static, and then back into music again. He needs to get his damned stereo fixed but unfortunately it hasn’t exactly been high on his priority list. His gaze travels down the slope of your neck, where your skin dips into the collar of your silky blue blouse, then back to your profile, your lips moving as you mouth the words to the song, but don’t sing.

I get this feelin' I may know you

As a lover and a friend

You stop when his words register, turning to look at him, and he averts his eyes back to the road. “No offense or anything….” you say. “But compared to the family I grew up in….this is all pretty tame.”

Joel ponders that for a moment, notices the way your eyes are narrowed, the corners of your lips quirking. “What, you got a problematic little brother, too? A precocious eleven-year-old?”

“No kids,” you answer. He didn’t think so. “But I do have a problematic older brother. And the stress he’s caused has definitely taken years off my life.”

At least you seem like you understand.

He’s shocked you’re in this car with him, that after entertaining his daughter all night, you’d offered to help him out with this Tommy mess. Though, he assumes you’re doing it out of guilt because Sarah made it sound like he was broke.

“You know for the record, I actually have the money to bail him out.”

“I figured.”

“Then why’d you come?”

You shrug. “I don’t know. My life has been pretty boring lately. I can’t remember the last time I did something exciting on a Friday night.”

“This is exciting to you?”

“It’s objectively exciting,” you sound assured. “Maybe more exciting than being the person who got arrested for public intoxication.”

Despite the stress of the evening, he can’t help but laugh.

“And whether you’re broke or not, bailing someone out of jail is no joke. If you can at least try to talk your way out of it, you might as well.”

Joel can’t argue with your logic.

“What is it you do again?” you ask, eyeing the protective glasses he has in the cup holder of his front seat. There are nails stuck between the rubber grooves of the mat beneath the seats, a pair of thick gloves resting on the dashboard.

“I’m a carpenter.”

“Makes sense,” you answer. “So you’re handy?”

“You could say that,” Joel lifts the can of flat, warm seltzer from his lunch break to his mouth, just to take a sip.

“That’s hot,” you say, and he nearly chokes when he hears it. Are you….flirting? Though, you can’t be, because when he looks over at you, you’re staring at the road, face neutral.

“What makes you say that?”

“I don’t know, I don’t make the rules of what’s hot and what isn’t….it’s just a fact. Everyone knows that.”

“Do they?”

“Uh-huh,” you respond. “I mean, I wish I was handy. I’m pretty much a lost cause in that department.”

“If it paid the bills, you’d figure it out.”

“If it paid the bills, I can tell you, I would not be living in our neighborhood.”

Joel puts his blinker on, preparing to pull into the police station. “You probably still could, it’s not that nice of a neighborhood.”

“Shut up,” you snort, rolling your eyes. “But in all seriousness, it is peaceful. It’s quiet.”

“See, but you still didn’t say nice.”

“It is nice. I like it.”

When he parks the car, you straighten up, unbuckling the seatbelt and exiting without a word. On the opposite side of the truck, he observes how you rebutton the front of your blazer, smooth down its lapels and shift your shoulders back before turning to him.

“You ready?” you ask.

He nods.

“After you.”

─── ･｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

When Joel spots you again, Tommy is walking a few paces behind you. You turn your head over one shoulder, smirking at whatever he’s saying. From where Joel is sitting in the lobby, he can just make out the soft curve of your hips, the tops of your thighs over the barrier that separates him from all the desks of the officers and staff at the station. You’ve got an easy, relaxed gait and you give Joel a wink when he catches you staring.

He can tell it’s just meant to be celebratory thing, since both you and Tommy seem to be in good spirits, but he likes the sight of it anyways, the idea that you’re both in on some secret that no one else is.

Joel stands to greet you and his brother to get the download, but as he approaches, your group is intercepted by one of the cops that had been hanging around reception.

“Miller,” he says lowly to Tommy. “This better be the last time I see you in here.”

When Tommy doesn’t answer right away, you pipe up.

“I assure you my client will be on his best behavior.”

The cop turns to you for a minute, turns back to Tommy, contemplating. “You’re lucky you have a good lawyer…” he says. “Although I’m still not convinced you’re really paying someone to get you out of a public intoxication charge.”

“I-” Tommy opens his mouth but you cut him off.

“Alleged…intoxication,” you interject, stone-faced.

“He can hardly walk straight.”

You purse your lips. “But….you never did a sobriety test, so, would it hold up in court?” you grimace. “If I had to guess….probably not.”

The cop narrows his eyes at you. “Don’t push it, princess.”

Despite the infantilizing nickname, You respond with a polite smile. “Thanks again, officer. Have a nice evening.”

“Mhm,” he murmurs before backing away.

You turn to Joel, your smile fading, and Tommy cuts in. “We should get the fuck out of here before he changes his mind.”

“That’s it? You’re free?” Joel asks.

Tommy nods.

“Tommy’s right, we should definitely leave.”

It’s a mad scramble, the three of you settling back into Joel’s truck, and if he was feeling a little less angsty about the way the whole evening had gone, he might’ve even peeled out of the parking lot for dramatic effect. But at this point, his patience is wearing thin.

He’s back on the main drag, en route to Tommy’s place, with you on the passenger’s side, and his brother in the back, leaning forward with his elbows resting on your seats when his brother speaks up.

“Holy….shit!” Tommy turns to you. “That was fucking awesome, are you kidding me? Joel, where the fuck did you find her?”

He’s still drunk, words slurring together, and he shakes both of your shoulders ferociously. You actually giggle — the sound of it is fucking adorable and Joel wishes that these are not the circumstances for hearing such a noise. He rather it be because of something he said, but he knows Tommy has always been more charming, even when drunk

“She’s my neighbor, Tommy.”

“No way! How come I’ve never seen you around before?” Tommy asks, and Joel can’t stop himself from rolling his eyes.

“I’m kind of new to the area,” you answer.

“Dammit, oh my god, Joel, I wish you coulda seen it.”

Joel looks over at you, and is thankful that he catches your eye. “What’d you say?”

“Never underestimate your negotiating power when the cop you’re talking to’s shift ended over an hour ago, and he doesn’t want to fill out any more paperwork.” You cross your arms, look over your shoulder at Tommy, who is leaning back against the seat with his head in his hands, laughing, before looking back at Joel. “I told you, I have experience.”

“Oh my god,” Tommy pokes his head back between you. “How’d he even get you to come down here? What’d he have to do, offer to paint your house or somethin’?”

“It’s a long story.”

“Sarah got locked out again,” Joel explained. “And I was over at her place when you called. She’s a corporate lawyer.”

“Ah, that makes sense. You know, Joel’s always liked the smart ones,” Tommy starts, and Joel has to contain the urge to slam on the brakes and send his brother face first into the back of his headrest. Unfortunately, he can’t do that with you in the car. “Too bad he’s dumb as a box of rocks.”

“Okay, watch yourself!” Joel snaps, and he’s only halfway kidding. “You got off easy, but you’re on fuckin’ thin ice, and I’m still pissed that I’m spending my night bailing you out again.”

Tommy doesn’t even catch on to Joel’s irritation – or maybe he does, and has just decided that he’s going to be the Annoying Younger Sibling and see how far he can push it. “Don’t let him fool you, okay?” Tommy continues, and you’ve angled yourself towards him, amused. “It’s not always him lookin’ after me. Before he had Sarah, he was crazy.”

“Alright, alright that’s enough, Tommy.” Joel shoots daggers towards his brother in the rearview mirror, and he watches Tommy’s smile falter, finally deciding to back down.

“Is that true, Joel, were you really crazy?” you ask after Tommy grows quiet, tilting your head. “I can’t see it.”

“Well we’ve all have our moments, right?” he says sheepishly.

“We do,” you agree, and then it’s finally silent.

Joel is thankful to see Tommy’s driveway straight in front of him, and his car lurches up the curb. “Alright, alright, this is your last stop,” he says to his brother. “You’ll get in okay?”

Tommy takes a deep breath, settling himself after all his bravado and sinking back against his seat. “I’ll be fine. I’ll see you tomorrow morning at Sarah’s game.” He slinks out of the truck and slams the door behind him.

Normally, Joel would’ve chewed him out after something like this, but he knows being hungover tomorrow at a middle school soccer game, sandwiched between screaming parents and the ear-splitting whistles of the referees will be punishment enough.

“I’ll see you then.” He watches his brother stumble up the steps to his home, unlock the door, and give a wave before disappearing inside.

Joel’s left alone with you. “Should we get you home, now?”

“Yeah, we should.”

Joel puts the car in reverse, puts one of his arms over the back of the bench seat to look for cars behind him, and catches you staring. You don’t even seem embarrassed that he notices, either, you just shift your gaze away to outside the window.

He feels a little self-conscious about the first impression he’s probably made, which is a feeling he’s not used to…caring about what people think.

“Sorry about him, he’s….a good guy but a real piece of work.”

You giggle. “Like I said, I have a brother, too.”

It’s been awhile since he’s interacted with anyone outside of Sarah, Tommy, and his coworkers, and his day was exhausting. He wants to ask more questions, see if he can hold some kind of conversation, but words fail him, so you spend the short drive on the way back home mostly in silence. You’re so quiet that by the time he pulls into your driveway, he thinks you might be asleep. If you were, he doesn’t even get the chance to wake you, because you immediately sit up straight once the truck has come to a halt.

“Thanks for everything tonight,” he says.

“You’re welcome, it was no problem,” you get out of the car, sling your bag over your shoulders, and close the door. “Have a good night.”

Joel’s listening to the retreating click of your heels up the driveway when he rolls down his window all the way to speak again. It’s clear you’re tired, your shoulders are slouched, and he feels incredibly guilty. You worked all day and then had to put up with his entire crazy family.

“Hey,” he says. “How much do I owe you for the pizza?”

You turn around, still stepping backwards. “Nothing.”

“Look, you’ve done too much for me tonight to say that,” he says. “I’m startin’ to feel bad.”

You stop in your tracks then, the smirk on your face fading a little bit as you slowly step forward to where he leans out the truck window. It’s only a few feet, but you’re much closer now than you’ve been to him all night, and there must be jasmine in your perfume. It smells expensive, he thinks, as your hands lift to rest on the door next to his elbow. “You shouldn’t feel bad,” you say softly, voice low.

God, you’re fucking beautiful, he realizes, basked in the glow of the moon, a smile creeping along the edges of your lips. Of course, he knew you were attractive, had definitely registered it at some point before – maybe when he’d walked in on you and Sarah giggling in the kitchen. He was just too busy being worried to even notice until now.

This isn’t a date, but you’re so close he could kiss you, kind of wants to just to see what would happen, but he doesn’t. You’re his new neighbor, and if he’s reading this wrong, he doesn’t want to be reminded of the mistake everyday, first thing in the morning when you’re picking up your newspaper at the end of your driveway and he’s leaving for work.

“But uh…if it would make you feel better…one of the steps on my front porch is rotted. Maybe you could come over sometime and fix it? That a fair trade?”

Joel nods, and you stick out your hand. “It’s a deal,” he says, ignoring the jolt of energy he feels when your palms press together, like you’re a kid wearing a hand buzzer, trying to shock him.

“Great,” you step away. He’s about to put the car in reverse when you speak again.

“Oh, and Joel?” you ask, he looks back at you. Before you speak again, your eyes shift to the ground, like you’re mustering up the courage to ask him something, and when they return to his again, your expression is somber. “Go easy on Sarah….she’s a good kid.”

Joel nods, understanding.

“I know.”

volume ii

taglist: @yaskna @venomous-ko @lomljigg

#joel miller x reader #joel miller #joel miller x f!reader #joel miller imagine #joel miller series #the last of us #the last of us fanfiction #pedro pascal #tlou hbo #tlou fanfic #tlou series #texas sun

2K notes · View notes

alonetimelover · 10 months

Text

pairing: Harry Styles x singer!reader (fc: Rihanna)

summary: “Well-known people usually don’t have the privilege to protect their private life. It’s impressive for how long you did it,”

a/n: this one has been in my drafts for months. i just found it and decided to post it before writing for scientist!reader. enjoy!

masterlist

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harryupdates

liked by ynupdates, harryshoee and 15 291 others

harryupdates Celebrating YN's half-time performance at tonight's Super Bowll here's a throwback to 2013 MTV awards.

view all 3 402 comments

hArrysbtch good ol' days when Harry was eating oranges during award shows

ynupdates i still think they look super cute together

harrysfan and then harry made 1D boys sing fourfive seconds on radio 1??? he had a big crush on her

ynsfan01 yn later that night during the interview? 'they had very tasty fruits during performances' girl...

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harrysno1fan

liked by harryupdates, harrysmoustache and 9 201 others

harrysno1fan Harry arriving in Glendale, Arizona a few hours ago. what the hell is he doing in the US???? wasn't he literally wasted at the BRITs like 5 hours ago??? isn't he supposed to be in Australia like tomorrow???

view all 2 291 comments

harryupdates interesting

harryfootball is he there for super bowl???

⤷ harrysbtch i don't think he knows much about American football, most like something to do with the half time show

⤷ harrysmoustache are you saying that he's going to be YN's surprise guest????? im gonna pass out

harryfan82 he's gonna boil in those clothes xd

ynupdates i hope he's there for the half time show

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harryandyn

liked by ynupdates, harryshoee and 3 201 others

harryandyn remember when this photo resurfaced a few years ago? and nobody said it was a photoshop and no one knew about it being real? I stand by my words then - they're closer than we think. mark my words people

view all 792 comments

ynupdates well, that would be a real power couple

harryupdates a collab would be a dream

hArrysbtch harry did admit having a crush on yn for years, maybe he acted on it?

ynsfan101 you all know that yn has a baby??

⤷ ynsmybestie of course, but she never said who the father is (she doesn't have to, her choice) so it gives you a place to speculate - respectfully!!!

⤷ ynshands babes, yn is super private, so is harry... it could work

⤷ ynsfan101 all im saying its strange not having seen them once together outside of award shows

⤷ ynsmybestie years in the industry teach you that

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ynupdates

liked by ynsmybestie, harryupdates and 37 201 others

ynupdates YN DURING THE HALFTIME SHOW! SHE IS PREGNANT WITH HER SECOND CHILD !!! the moment they showed I screamed so loud at the TV...

view all 12 201 comments

ynsmybestie OMFGAKWSK i am so happy for her

ynsmymama yas, im gonna have another sibling 💀

ynshands guys, we're not getting this album, like ever

ynsnextalbum hi guys, I'm not coming till 2040

harrysmoustache did you guys saw harry during the performance???????

⤷ hArrysbtch they're so together, no way

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harryupdates

liked by ynupdates, harrysmoustache and 21 301 others

harryupdates HARRY AT THE SUPER BOWL !!! Harry attended half time show (YN's performance) and then left with her team...

view all 4 201 comments

ynupdates he looks very comfy 💀

hArrysbtch they're SOOOOO together, no other way

harrysmoustache power couple

ynsmybestie i knew yn had good taste in man

hArrysbtch wait

hArrysbtch wooow

hArrysbtch DOES IT MEAN THAT HARRY IS A DAD ???!

⤷ harrysfan291 no way

⤷ ynsmybestie i mean... it's possible

⤷ harryshands HE IS A FATHER???

harryfan82 let's not spread rumours

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harrystyles

liked by yourinstagram, ynupdates, harrysupdates, violadavis and 24 201 291 others

harrystyles yourinstagram 👶🏾👶🏾

view all 582 201 comments

yourinstagram we make beautiful babies

⤷ harrystyles it's all you, mama

ynupdates no words....

harryupdates congratulations!!!!

violadavis oh, mama. do you ever get some sleep?

⤷ yourinstagram barely, its harrystyles fault

⤷ harrystyles mint ice cream?

⤷ yourinstagram 🧍🏻‍♂️🧎🏿‍♀️

⤷ ynsmybestie girl????? oh, you got it BAD bad

ynsmybestie so she really in love? damn

harrysmoustache he's a daddy?????

ynshands well, now i know your babies are gonna be the most beautiful

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harrysupdates

liked by ynupdates, harrysmoustache and 6 201 others

harrysupdates HARRY AND YN AT THE HOTEL IN GLENDALE! i have a feeling after yesterday we're gonna see much more of them

view all 592 comments

harrysmoustache they're in love love, got it

harrysfan290 might go sleep on the highway tonight

hArrysbtch it's too much to process. Harry's taken, he's with THEE YN, he's got a child and another one on the way???

ynupdates so they're that kinda couple? love it

ynshands yeah, it's been long enough since I felt this lonely, fair enough

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yourinstagram

liked by harrystyles, taylorswift, annetwist, ynupdates, harrysupdates and 42 201 304 others

yourinstagram did this photoshoot not knowing little Bee is gonna have a sibling. harrystyles thank you for... you know what, for once i'll keep it PG ❤

britishvogue thank you for letting us be on the cover

view all 729 392 comments

harrystyles thank you for Bee and little Sprout ❤

⤷ yourinstagram love you

taylorswift congratulations you two!

annetwist Can't wait to meet my second grandchild ❤️

harryupdates the joined interview???? babes

ynupdates i cried while reading the interview

hArrysbtch looking good, mama 🧎‍♀️

⤷ yourinstagram making me blush, im taken!

⤷ hArrysbtch what the hell???

⤷ yourinstagram i like your username, relatable

⤷ hArrysbtch JAIL

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https://www. vogue.co.uk/news/article/yn-and-harry-and-their family

British Vogue

On a surprisingly sunny day in London, our writer Tommy Jenkins was invited to the beautiful rural home on the outskirts of the busy capital city. The garden was blooming with spring flowers, covering the better part of the front house garden. On the porch was the whole YSN-Styles family - YN, Harry and their little first child - Bee (nickname, name not yet revealed to the public).

The first time I talked to YN was after the 2014th MTV Music Awards, already struck by her presence, the way she presented herself and treated everyone around her - always kind, helpful and ready to cooperate. This is my first interview with YN, but also Harry Styles, who is YN’s husband.

“We’ve been married, what, about seven months?” YN wondered, looking at Harry, who was cuddling their nine-month-old son.

“Seven months and fourteen days exactly, time flies.”

“He’s better with dates than me,” YN countered with a smile.

The wedding was small, held in this very house, I’ve been for the last few hours. Closest family and friends, sleeping Bee in the first row attended the ceremony, which then transferred to a dinner with Stevie Nicks performing. After my question of why they didn't announce it to the public, Harry took over the wheel, “there was no need to. It was something very private, personal to us. It uhm it still feels wrong to talk about with you, no offence.” No offence was taken. “Well-known people usually don’t have the privilege to protect their private life. It’s impressive for how long you did it,” I responded. “It’s sad. But we made it work.”

Enjoy the rest of the interview and learn about YN and Harry’s relationship, their future plans, YN’s new album and Harry’s next film role.

TJ: Coming back to the privacy, what tipped the weight on the scales to accept our interview?

YN: Good question. I think - well - I think after I decided to do the HalfTime Show it was bound to happen. There was no way I could hide my huge belly. Laughs. It just came up one evening and we were like “fuck it, let’s do it”.

TJ: HalfTime Show, how was it?

YN: Exhausting. It’s not easy dancing with this big of a belly, especially when you know that your child is right there. There - we had some second thoughts when I started to near the seven month mark. Just like with Bee my belly got quite big - which I love to see, hate to manoeuvre - I mean my back and legs are hurting me non stop. But going back to the topic - umm - yeah. The decision was hard, but we made it together.

TJ: Harry, you came to the show right after winning everything you could on the BRITs. Congratulations, by the way!

Harry: Thank you. Blushing. Ehmm, yeah, in the beginning we decided to be together at the show. I actually didn’t want to be at the BRITs but YN bought me a plane ticket. Laughs. Yeah, I just flew to Glendale the day of the show to support my wife.

TJ: How was the dancing on the platforms, YN?

YN: Terrifying. But I was harnessed and secure.

TJ: If you let me, I want to ask you about your first meeting. Was it actually the 2013 MTV awards?

YN: It was. Ten - oh my lord - ten years ago. It’s crazy!

TJ: How was it?

YN: I don’t remember the award show, just eating some oranges form a cute stranger behind me and then giving him my number. Which he lost.

TJ: No, you didn’t!

Harry: I did, I did lose the YN YSN phone number. My mates - my band mates - teased me for months about it. It was scary, actually.

TJ: And when did you meet next?

YN: When was it? December 2015?

Harry: Yeah. I may or may not have made my bandmates perform FourFive Seconds during our Live Lounge set, and it just sprinted from there.

YN: I DMed him after being shown that video by my younger sister. And that DM is actually framed and hang in Harry’s home studio.

TJ: What was it?

Harry: “I guess it took collaborating with Paul McCartney to have you give me a hint.”

TJ: And you started from there?

YN: And never looked back.

TJ: It wasn’t the last time you performed YN’s song, was it? Wild Thoughts?

YN: Laughing. I love this!

Harry: That was our first - let’s say - crumb to give people about us.

TJ: Please elaborate.

YN: I wrote my verses in Wild Thoughts with Harry in mind, let’s be real. He was my inspiration and has been since the moment we’ve started seeing each other. But it was Harry’s idea to cover it. I loved it and he did it beautifully, like always.

TJ: I assume your albums are about YN?

Harry: Smiles.

TJ: Okay, I understand. Let’s move on. YN, when we are in the topic of music -

YN: Oh no. My fans sent you, didn’t they?!

TJ: I’m one of them! When can we expect something? A crumb even.

YN: Two months. I - I have a full album written. Don’t know if my fans will like it, it’s - it’s different from anything I’ve done already. It’s something more rock, I’d say. With R&B of course. I couldn’t abandon my favourite genre. There are a few collaborations, Lift Me Up is there, too, a few notes sprouted all over the tracks maybe meaning something. Smirking. I really want them all to like it, but I wouldn't blame them if they didn’t. That’s just the way of how things could go.

TJ: I love it already.

Harry: It’s very beautiful. Personal and deep.

TJ: Harry, you’ve just won twoGrammy awards. Congratulations. But I want to ask you about acting. Do you have something, a script that you want to take part in bringing up to live?

Harry: Thank you. Uhm. Right now I’m touring and whenever the baby is born, we’re stopping. Time for family is the most important thing in my life.

TJ: Thank you for talking with me and welcoming us to your home.

The day you’re reading this interview - when it is published - YN already dropped her album. It probably is no. 1 on Billboard and breaking records. And if not? Be ready to listen to new music from YN - it’s closer than ever.

#harry styles x reader #harry styles x you #harry styles x y/n #harry styles fake ig #harry styles one shot #harry styles imagine #singer!reader #harry styles #harry styles fanfiction

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thepastisalreadywritten · 1 month

Text

By Kate Andrews

Has Kate Middleton united America? For the past few days, we have been one nation under her spell.

The Princess of Wales has dominated Google searches in the United States ever since Kensington Palace released that now-notorious doctored photo of her with her children for Mother’s Day.

Her name search beat that of both ‘Donald Trump’ and ‘Joe Biden’ over the past week.

To say she has broken the internet would be only the start of it: rumours of her well-being are making their way into every newsroom, dive bar, and church fellowship hour across America.

My friends from all over the country text and call me to ask the same question: What’s happened to Kate?

They know I’m as removed from the royal family as anyone could be, but I’m in London and I work in Westminster, so they hope I’ve heard a theory that hasn’t made its way across the pond just yet.

Left-liberal pals who usually text me when Trump says something obscene now want to know when I last walked by Buckingham Palace.

Did anything seem strange? More right-leaning friends, who tend to send videos of Biden jumbling his words, want to know if it’s unusual in Britain to not wear your wedding ring.

Or did someone photoshop her ring out of the Mother’s Day photo, too? Is that even her hand in the picture?

I wonder if Kate knows she has achieved the impossible in bringing America together in this way.

I suppose that depends on where she’s been, how she’s been faring, and how much she’s checking the news – all questions that largely remain unanswered.

Either way, it’s an impressive feat and a wonderful service she has performed.

Sure, it would be nice if existential threats to the United States and its citizens were cause enough for us to find common ground. But I’m not going to be picky.

I will forever be grateful for this smidgen of evidence that, if the cause is compelling enough, America can pull itself back from the brink.

How did ‘Kate-gate’ go viral in a nation that isn’t even her own? The princess’s prolonged absence from public life has the right components to capture America’s imagination.

We are a country obsessed with The Crown and true crime. Since we rejected the British monarchy almost 250 years ago, we have rarely had the opportunity to combine the two.

The mystery of Kate’s movements and the online sleuthing required to discredit that photograph proved to be a golden moment.

But it’s the cover-up elements, which made the story stratospheric.

Like everything else in the States, conspiracy theories tend to be big – the more far-fetched, the more viral they go.

Trumpist QAnon talk has never appealed to non-partisan Instagram girlies, but speculation around a princess’s whereabouts make for perfect 20-part video series to add to your highlights reel.

That’s because Kate-gate is not your traditional conspiracy fare.

The big questions – what’s happened to Kate, where has she been – have not been whipped up from nothing.

Suspicion has been fed by a number of public-relations mishandlings from the Palace.

Stories have changed, a photo has been botched and is still being censored on social media.

This is particularly strange given the normal PR slickness of the Firm: a protective, ruthless operation that presidents and popstars envy.

Some of the rumours have taken absurd and dangerous turns. But it’s not only fantasists who have questions. Something seems to be happening; we just don’t know what.

We may never find out what Kate has been up to these past months. And perhaps we shouldn’t. Her medical issues aren’t our business, after all.

But we know what’s happened to her in the eyes of the public: Brand Kate has skyrocketed.

She and her family have become even more intriguing – the Prince and Princess of Wales’s Instagram and X accounts gained more than 200,000 followers combined in the days after the doctored photo was posted.

That intrigue has made the princess all the more sensational.

Kate is now a mega-celebrity. She has the kind of fame her sister-in-law craves so badly.

Markle’s tactic was to shout from the rooftops: to make herself and her point of view heard through every media platform and streaming service that showed any interest. It worked for a while.

Had a pandemic not scuppered her big moment, ‘Megxit’ would have been the story of 2020.

She and Harry still got to sit down with Oprah. Netflix charted their journey from the Palace to the Hollywood Hills. But attention quickly waned.

This week, the duchess finds herself doing what every fame-hustler must do in the fight for survival: launching a lifestyle brand.

Her Californian-inspired venture, called American Riviera Orchard, will be offering us fashion advice and gardening tips, along with another outlet selling artisan jams and yoga gear.

Yet as she pushes the cutlery and cookbooks, it’s absent Kate whose face is projected all over the world: a testament, if there ever was one, to the power of silence.

Given the long line of mess-ups from the Palace, this boost for Kate is a fairly good outcome.

The princess disappeared for a few months, and the world made its message clear: we simply can’t bear to be without her.

When she returns to public life, she will be more adored and loved than ever.

The rumours and theories will die down. The outpouring of support for the Princess of Wales will continue.

It seems likely that she will, as promised, resume public duty in the spring.

The future queen of England will return, radiant as ever, to stand next to her future king and her family, as if nothing ever happened.

We’ll watch on, always with the niggling feeling that there was something we weren’t told and that not knowing is the key to the charm.

As Walter Bagehot said:

‘We must not let in daylight upon magic’ – or photoshop, for that matter.

NOTE: Additional photos have been included in this article.

#Princess of Wales #Catherine Princess of Wales #Catherine Middleton #Kate Middleton #British Royal Family #Brand Kate #trending #viral #fake news #misinformation #disinformation #cancer #chemotherapy #break the internet #Kate-Gate

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wildartsstuff · 3 months

Text

My art keeps getting stolen or uncredited. Seriously losing my patience about the fact that as an artist I am not protected nor respected as a person and for my work.

It takes you NOTHING to use Google lenses and reverse research an artist if the picture is reposted on Pinterest ( since lots of my work has ended up there uncredited too ) and copy and paste the link to your post, especially if you do it from your pc/laptop.

Unfortunately has an artist that has gotten a certain notoriety into the Lies of P fandom I always expected it but never have to deal with SO MUCH reposters and thieves. A few months ago someone tried to sell 3 of my works in their shop on tshirts and luckily none of them were sold and the owners had the decency to fire the person selling the works as “original designs”.

Then someone using my Carmeo piece to spread words of hate on those who actually enjoy the ship and got their account taken down because of their awful action of using art as a personal propagandist hate.

Is has become stressful.

“Just add a big watermark on it!”

Is useless because people can remove it with photoshop and AI

“Then Glaze or nightshade your work!”

I do not consider Glaze and nightshade still good enough to poison and protect my art from AI and even because as someone that wants to use the web version of said programs has to do too many passages to get an account and is not willing to download either glaze of nightshade because of lack of memory in his laptop hard disk.

Please, if you want to use my work, credit me. Not asking that much.

#rewildspeaks

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miepstheguineapig · 1 year

Photo

Today it is Wies' birthday. Actually it's Wies and Pien's birthday, but sweet Pien has a heavenly birthday. 🥹🎂🌈🎈

I tried to photoshop Pien on a cloud in this photo, but it just didn't turn out the way I wanted to. 📷

I'm so glad sweet Wies is still here with us. ❤️ When Pien just crossed the rainbow bridge Wies got in really bad shape. Even the vet thought she would not be with us for much longer. That was over 6 months ago. Sweet Wies fought hard and she's still with us.

I can tell the babies bring her so much joy. She loves to 'fight' with them over food and to snuggle with them when they allow her to do so.

As far as I can tell Wies a very happy and healthy piggy and I hope she'll be like this for much longer. 🥰 Happy birthday sweet Wies. I think we all hope many more will follow. 🥳

⚠️ Please note that the candle was not lit when Wies was in the photo set up. This is added in Photoshop in post processing. Never use fire nearby animals or childeren. ⚠️

#guinea pig #cavy #cavylove #Meerschweinchen #animal #pet

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margareth-lv · 1 year

Text

👑 The Royal Family 👑

Caution: the contents of this post should not be seen by those who are hypersensitive to 🧛🏻‍♂️.

Ladies, beware!

☣️☣️☣️

My post below is kind of… weird, I know, but still, I want to share my thoughts with you.

The whole story was actually quite bizarre, thus my analysis couldn't be anything but, well, strange. And as I went AWOL for almost a year I’m coming today with some outdated news, let’s say to celebrate the king’s coronation last Saturday.

(All I want to say is that you read it at your own risk)

One more warning: I’ve posted below a photo of 🧛🏻‍♂️. Please, be warned.

I’ve also posted a „photo” of Baby Augustus, but his “image” was so heavily (and badly) photoshopped, that I don’t feel bad about sharing it on my blog.

So, as you can guess I want to discuss with you damage control post-funeral photo published, supposedly, in Irish Daily Mirror one day after the funeral, but made public five months after, in January 2023.

You know, from the legal point of view, if it was a REAL funeral photo with a REAL baby image published without the consent of the family, it wolud have been removed from internet months ago. It’s not such a big deal even for an aspiring lawyer. Baby’s image (apart from rules of sharing images with or without consent of baby’s parents) is considered as a personal data. So, as Ireland is a member state of the European Union, the GDPR (data protection rules) applies there. It means that a short request to cease the infringements would end the case.

But the photo, despite of everything, saw the light of day five months after it was taken.

You don’t have to be a genius to come to the conclusion that it was meant to go public.

What a creepy family, indeed, The Balfes.

By the way, poor quality of work in Photoshop on Baby Augustus photo reminds me the story of, if you'll excuse me, failed “Potato Jesus” (aka “Monkey Christ”) restoration, a certain amateur restoration job that gone terribly wrong.

Making long story short, the painting of Jesus wearing a crown was given a fresh lick of paint by an elderly local resident of a small village in Spain and in the end the face appeared to have been strangely smeared (just like Baby Augustus 😉). The result of the botched restoration spawned a photoshop meme:

(Anyway, the depth of the image of “Potato Jesus” is comparable to Baby Augustus “photo”, best proof of lack of skills in Photoshop. Caitríona’s PR department never bothered to pick a guy with any talent, IF YOU KNOW WHAT I MEAN).

And now…

☀️

Here Comes the Sun.

The Royal Family in all its unflinching glory:

⬇️⬇️⬇️

No, this wasn’t my idea.

Someone wrote on Tumblr that Baby Augustus was strikingly similar to prince William.

Yup, he really was. As if he was William’s twin brother.

… or younger brother who wears old clothes of his big bro.

And why on earth the whole family looks like a cost-reduced version of the royal family?

You know, I can’t help thinking that there's more than just a coincidental similarity in these photos.

Another conspiracy theory.

I'm tired.

💁🏻‍♀️

[May 8, 2023]

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violetvelourr · 8 months

Text

How long I have been doing art

People occasionally ask me how long I’ve been drawing and that question gets me utterly confused 😅 um, probably since I remember myself?.. 😅

First of all, big reveal. I’m old. Much older than you probably ever guessed. Because I’ve been doing digital art since 2003, and I was not exactly a toddler at that point, he-he. Don’t ask me my age though – I’m still a lady and I consider it impolite 🤭 but that might actually answer the questions of many teenagers why I don’t particularly interact much 🙈

So anyways, now we have settled my “art career” span. But saying “I began doing digital art in 2003” – well… I don’t want to do that, because people will be like, “whoa, 20 years”?! And will freak out at such a prospect – 20 years to get to my level, which is, frankly speaking, far from professional. Not to mention that before digital art I also drew traditionally quite a bit.

But the main reason is because “doing digital art since 2003” does not equal “for 20 years”.

How about we revisit these years and look closer at my digital art journey? I can’t promise that I will recall everything 100% accurately, but I’ll do my best.

So around 2003-2004 I tried drawing in Photoshop for the first time. It was an image of a lion, and to be honest, to this day I’m hella proud of myself.

Yes, first attempt. Yes, I drew with a freaking mouse!

My second piece from the same year span is the “Dancer”. oh yes, the remakable hepatitis skin tone 🙈

To be honest, I don’t recall having a drawing tablet that long ago, I'm quite sure I got it only in 2008, but looking at it, despite its flaws, I can hardly believe I drew that using a mouse… I’m not sure, it’s a mystery. The Lion was definitely a mouse artwork.

From thereon I abandoned digital art for a while due to studying, then work, and finally online RPGs…

In 2008 I posted my first digital WIP after a 5 year break.

Oh my gosh... Remind me to never try realism again, clearly not my thing 🙈

I think I was trying to draw an avatar for myself, which doesn’t exactly justify drawing a woman aged probably around 40 🙈 I was not that old!! As far as I can see from my journal, that artwork crashed and only this snippet of it was what I had left. I think it’s for the good. I ended up commissioning the avatar from a proper artist, ha-ha…

Over the span of 2 months I posted 5 more digital art pieces, none of them ever completed actually 🙈 And yes, behold how ugly they are...

My ambitions were growing faster than my skills were improving. The piece with the couple with that naked girl is my special pain because I even attended a digital art course by an amazing artist I was really looking up to back then – Anry – to try and finish this piece, but I failed miserably. I was the only person in that course (5 day 12hr/day intense course) out of 15 people who came “just for fun” – the rest were pursuing a professional digital illustrator career.

This is what I left off with after that course.

In this collage you see on the left what I came with, the middle – what the teacher did after I explained my concept, and on the right – my attempt to take the piece to its final form. But I could never accept that the base was made for me and not by me...

It still grips my heart when I look at it because it was one of my greatest fails. I think that to die peacefully, I need to finish this artwork 😆 If anyone is curious about the story behind this artwork, I’ll post it separately.

Anyway, as I said, I didn’t reach my goal, was hugely disappointed in myself and dropped digital art in April 2008.

However, I came back 1.5 years later, in November 2009, when I got into anime 😂

I think that’s also when I first tried Paint Tool SAI. Up until March 2012, I uploaded roughly 20+/- digital artworks/WIPs. The quality was a bit inconsistent, but I was beginning to get the hang of it a bit, finally. Here are some of them (yeah, the span of the mood is extraordinary):

So, in 2.5 years – merely 20 artworks. Just to compare, in 2022 alone I made 75+ artworks, which doesn’t even include animations and stuff I considered to not be proper artworks.

So, my last artwork from that period was in March 2012 (the one with the winged dude blocking the way for the girl), after which I abandoned digital art again, for good this time. I actually thought - forever, to be honest.

I’m not sure what happened then. I guess I just lost my motivation, got over my fictional crushes, was depressed and not happy with myself…

Problem is that in reality, I don’t have any imagination at all. Part of the reason why I always suspected that despite being quite decent in drawing, I would never succeed as an artist, so I could only say that my dream was to draw for Disney. But I knew I never would. And I knew I can’t do original art. Fan arts – yes, subject to being highly inspired, a feeling similar to a crush. I was too dependent on the mood. But even so… my artworks never were particularly fancy or original, I admit it.

Part of the reason why I’m also so sensitive about AI now. I see people actually living my dream, and I'm so happy for them. Working as illustrators, having an income from what they create... And that is being stolen from them now. That’s why I will probably never accept AI.

Ugh, turned off the subject…

Anyway, as I said, I abandoned art in 2012 and only picked it back up in October 2021 because of Kakashi. 😆

If my math is correct, that’s a 9.5 year break. I have been going non-stop since October 2021, so I would say that my ongoing artistic journey lasts for almost 2 years now. The previous 2-year period with 20 artworks – I’m not really sure about the value of that. The previous 7 digital artworks – even more so.

If I had to sum up my entire digital art journey, – I would say it is around 5–6 years, but in reality probably won’t add up even to 3 years, because the 3 years adding up from a bit of 2003, a bit of 2008 and bits of 2009-2012 had me produce only around 30 artworks, a majority of which were never even completed.

My main progress happened between 2021 and now, so in the last 2 years. And to be honest, I understand that if I am to continue - this is only the beginning...

#my digital art journey #yeah if it wasn't for Kakashi I probably wouldn't be drawing now #Kakashi is literally the reason I got back into art #Kakashi for life #Kakashi #Naruto #thank you Kishi #artists on tumblr #art #illustration

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medusapelagia · 8 months

Text

17 AU-gust: Fallen Angel

Rating: Teen and up Relationship: Steve Harrington/Eddie Munson WT: none WC: 1466

Steve looks at his old profile on the dating app.

FallenAngel92.

Robin chose the name obviously.

He hasn’t opened the app in years, but a few weeks ago Billy broke up with him and now Robin has finally convinced him to open the old app and put himself out there once more.

The break up wasn’t a hard one, after years of relationship something shifted and when Billy was offered a good position in San Francisco he simply couldn’t say no. He even asked Steve to come with him, but Steve couldn’t leave Robin and they decided to break up.

They still text each other stupid memes, but they are no longer together and a few hours ago Billy posted a picture on Instagram where he was kissing another boy.

Which is fine. Totally fine. But made his heart ache a little.

So FallenAngel92 is back, looking at some random pictures, trying to understand from a fake smile and a photoshopped photo if he might like the person behind the nickname.

He looks at the pictures of boys and girls, but he was never good at choosing, he was always the chosen one.

He met Billy in High School, they started as enemies and ended up as one of the few gay couples of Hawkins.

It was hard, Steve’s parents don’t talk to him anymore, but he knows that he would have never had the courage to kiss a boy if Billy hadn’t kissed him first.

And what a kiss it was.

In the lockers, after they won the Championship game.

Well, Billy is far away with another guy and Steve has to try to meet new people. another thing he is not good at.

Even if he is a caring and lovely boy, somehow the first impression he makes on new people is always a bad one. Even Robin, who is like his platonic soulmate, thought that he was nothing more than a bully for months before they became friends.

That’s why she suggested going back to the app, just to make some practice of small talk.

What he is not expecting is to find an inbox after a few minutes of scrolling.

And from MetalDemon, nevertheless! Somehow it feels like a sign.

“Did you hurt yourself when you fell from the sky, FallenAngel?”

Ok. That’s cheesy. But with a nickname like that, he can’t really complain.

“Being a demon, you should know a thing or two about falling, don’t you?”

“Oh, I know a lot of things about falling. I usually fall on my knees for pretty boys like you. Do you really dress like a cute little sailor?”

Shit. He forgot to change his profile picture! It’s an old one for a Halloween party where he dressed in the Schoop Ahoy Uniform he wore at work during his first year of college.

“Well, that was a Halloween party. I usually dress more casually.”

“So no feathers for me?”

Steve snorts “Are you into feathers?”

“I’m into you, big boy. Your profile says that you are in Chicago. I’m here too for a few days and my job is beating my ass. Would you like to meet for a drink?”

He hasn’t had a date in years! He doesn’t know if he is ready for that.

He calls Robin right away, even if he knows she is still working at the pub.

“What’s the emergency? Did the house catch on fire? We have insurance somewhere.” she replies immediately.

“Not that kind of emergency Rob. The kind that someone is asking me out on that stupid app and I don’t know what to say.”

“Is he handsome?”

“I can’t really tell. He is playing in his picture and all I can see it’s the guitar and the hands. He has a lot of rings!”

“Mmmh… Do you feel ready?”

“I don’t know.”

“You know what? Ask him to come to the pub. I’ll be here and if anything goes wrong I’ll save you. No questions asked.”

“You are the best.”

“I know I am, but I’m still on the clock. Talk to you when I get back home! Love you dingus!”

“Love you too!”

“Sorry, a friend of mine called. Would you like to go grab a drink at the Upside Down?”

“Upside Down?”

“It’s a little pub I usually go to. But if you have any other ideas…”

“No, it’s fine, I’m not from here so everywhere is fine for me. Just text me the address and I’ll be there.”

“Ok. How we will recognize one another?”

“Don’t worry about that. I’m sure we will find each other.”

***

Steve is sitting at the bar counter, sipping his second beer and there is no sight of MetalDemon.

He sighs. He shouldn’t be disappointed. He just texted a man he doesn’t know and he didn’t show up. It happens all the time. Still, it hurts.

“One more?” Robin asks, getting closer to him.

Steve looks at the clock, he has been waiting for almost two hours. He should go back home. Tomorrow he has to work.

“No, thanks, I’m fine. Thank you for keeping me company, I’ll see you at home.” Steve leaves some bills near his glass and goes toward the door, only to find himself hitting the floor hard.

“What the fuck!” he complains, holding his elbow.

“I’m so sorry! I was in a rush.” a dark-haired boy says, trying to help him lift from the ground.

He has slender fingers and many rings.

“MetalDemon?” he asks, confused.

“Oh god. It’s you. I’m sorry. I’m so fucking sorry…” but the boy doesn’t have the time to finish his apologies that Robin is between the two of them.

“You let my friend wait for you for two hours! You could have at least texted!”

“I know! I’m so sorry! But it wasn’t my fault. I mean. It was but it wasn’t! I just broke up with my boyfriend and one of my friends decided to set me up with some random guy and when he told me I got angry and I didn't really want to come. But then he told me I was being stupid and selfish, that at least I could have gone and grabbed a beer and I felt bad, and I wanted to come sooner but that stupid groupies will not let me go and…”

“Groupies? What?”

“Oh. I’m the lead singer of the Corroded Coffin. Didn’t Gar tell you that?”

Steve shakes his head, but he knows perfectly well the Corroded Coffin.

“Oh my god. You were at Hawkins High School! You won the battle band and got a contract with a major label.”

“How the fuck do you know?” The black-haired man looks at him confused, and then something clicks “Harrington? Is that you?!”

He nods.

“Oh my god. I’m going to kill Gar. I will. I swear! You are not some fucking random guy!”

Robin stares at them confused, and then she decides “Take a seat, I’ll give you the menu and you will explain to us what the hell is going on.”

Long story short, Eddie confesses that he had a crush on Steve since high school but when he finally resolved to confess his feelings to Steve, Billy beat him and he never got another opportunity.

“I found your profile on that app years ago, but I never dared to text you and then you disappeared again.”

Steve nods, he tried to use the app when he and Billy were having a crisis a few years ago but he never really chatted with anyone.

“Gar was playing with my phone, I suppose he saw you were online and he texted you. I’m so fucking sorry. I will understand if you don’t want to have anything to do with me anymore.”

Steve sighs.

His nickname is not random. Robin chose it because it represented Steve. A good guy destined to fail.

He should not be surprised that his first date ended up like this.

“You know what? I think you could be a good influence on our sad little angel. What do you say if you continue this conversation at home? We are closing and I’m dead on my feet.”

“Would you like that?” Eddie asks, shyly, and Steve finds out that he does.

He doesn’t care if this will turn into a relationship or not. Eddie is funny and has so many anecdotes to tell that the times fly and they end up talking till dawn.

When Eddie leaves Steve’s apartment he gives him his personal mobile phone.

“I’ll be back in Chicago in a couple of months. Would you like to go on a date with me? A real one?”

Steve nods, smiling, maybe this FallenAngel was always doomed to fall into a MetalDemon’s arms.

#tumblr fic #myfanfic #steddie #au gust 2023 #fallen angel #stranger things #eddie munson #steve harrington #stranger things fanfic #writing challenge #medusapelagia fanfic #medusapelagia #my fanfic

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