some backlog of scuffed art to commemorate our dear overlord’s return \o/

Partnering With You

Title: Partnering With You

Pairing: Costumer!Sam x Ballerina!Reader

Word Count: 7.5k

Warnings: Fluff

Square Filled: Ballet AU

Summary: Y/N and Sam are the dream team of the Kansas City Ballet, but only one of them has dreams to take their partnership even farther.

A/N: This is a submission for the 2021-2022 SPN AU Bingo (@spnaubingo​)! While this story is about ballet, it is entirely fictional and is not meant to be an accurate depiction of the ballet world. As always, thank you for reading and supporting me. I hope you enjoy! Dividers are by @firefly-graphics​

Sam’s studio is one of your most favorite places in the entire world. It’s where you’d gotten the call from the ballet asking you to become part of their corps, and it was there you’d gotten the call to become a soloist. You and Sam have dreamed up some of your best costumes on the cozy gray couch near the windows. Some of those costumes have yet to come to fruition, but you enjoy watching him sketch, sew, and piece them together during your free time.

Today is your busiest day of the week, which leaves you with very little time to visit your childhood friend. Sam welcomes you with open arms whenever you’re able to come see him, and the smile he sends your way as he paces the length of the studio is a welcome sight. His phone is pressed between his ear and his shoulder in a position that looks entirely uncomfortable and you make a face before dumping your bag and roller on the floor beside the elevator doors. He’s got his sketchbook in hand and he’s scribbling notes and sketching long lines across the paper as he listens to whoever is on the other end of the call.

“Who’s on the phone?” you ask, mouthing the words the next time Sam looks your way. His eye roll is enough to tell you that it’s a higher-up at the company and you grin before digging out your lunch. Sam’s probably already eaten, so you plop down on the couch and open up the plastic container without offering to share. 

Finally, Sam ends the call and sighs. He dumps the phone and his sketchbook on his desk and heads in your direction, giving you just enough warning to pull your feet out of the way before he collapses onto the opposite side of the couch from you.

“Long morning?” you ask in between bites.

He nods and pulls your feet back onto his lap. He doesn’t mind your shoes on his jeans, which you appreciate. Your other friends, the ones you spend much less time with, always insist you take your shoes off in their spaces. You oblige, but you’d much rather keep your feet hidden outside the comfort of your own home. The beauty of your feet is one of the prices you pay to keep doing what you love. 

“Brenda wants all the costumes redone with sequins instead of beads,” he sighs, and you groan around another bite of food.

“Brenda! You’re killing us!”

Sam laughs at your dramatics, his hand resting on your calves, and you grin at him after swallowing. You tuck the fork back into the container and click it shut, then tuck it back into your lunchbag.

“I’ve got another class today, and then we’ve got a dress rehearsal,” you tell him.

His eyebrows shoot up. “Another one?”

“Another one,” you confirm. “Apparently some of the corps learned different choreo, though I’m not sure how. We think it’s because Rowena broke her contract and left midseason for Romania.”

“You think she taught them the wrong routines on purpose?” Sam asks.

You shrug and crack open the lid on your shake, sniffing it and scrunching your nose. The vegetable shakes weren’t something you’d opted for voluntarily, but your doctor had insisted on changing some things in your diet now that you’re working harder and trying for principal next season. Sam is drinking the shakes in solidarity, but you know he likes them more than you did.

“You wanna see my new designs?”

That’s enough to perk you up, and you quickly nod, sitting up against the back of the couch. Sam grins and gets up to grab his tablet from its charging dock. He takes a second to open the file he wants, then hands it over.

You take your time on each design, carefully looking them over as you sip your shake. Sam is a master at the details, which is why you had insisted that the company hire him shortly after you’d first joined. After seeing his work, they’d agreed with you wholeheartedly and hired him on the spot. Now they keep him so busy he doesn’t have time to do any other designs, not that he minds.

“These are beautiful,” you finally say, looking up at him.

Sam sits quietly, taking in every part of your expression before giving you a small, relieved smile. “You like them?”

You nod and hand back the tablet, smiling back. “I think they’re your best yet. Is that for next season?”

He shrugs and locks the tablet again, then reaches over to set it on the small table off to the side of the couch. If Sam hadn’t been so dead set on going into costume design, you would’ve nagged him harder to train with you. His height is a bit above average for the men in your company, but he moves gracefully and controls his body with more ease than some of the most advanced dancers in the corps. You attribute it to genetics in addition to the few years of ballet training you’d had together as kids, but Sam always brushes you off. If you didn’t know him as well as you do, you would assume that he’d kept dancing, but you know that he only works with a personal trainer a few times a week.

“I’ve just been toying around with ideas for different shows. They haven’t contacted me about next season yet.”

“Don’t they normally give you the schedule around this time?” you ask. You pull your legs up close, wrapping your arms around them and resting your chin on your knees. He shrugs again and you frown. “Sam, is everything okay?”

“Everything’s fine.” He smiles, but you can tell it's forced.

Before you can push the issue any further, the timer on your phone goes off and you unfold yourself from the couch.

“Sorry, I’ve gotta go. Are we still on for dinner this weekend?” you ask as you collect your lunchbag and head over to the pile of stuff you’d left by the elevator.

Sam stands as well, but he doesn’t move away from the couch as he watches you get ready to leave. “As long as your rehearsal doesn’t go late. I’ve got an early morning on Sunday.”

“You’re going home for your mom’s birthday after training, right?” When you glance over at him, he nods, and you smile. “Tell Mary I said Happy Birthday?”

“I’ll do that,” he says, and you straighten up with your belongings piled against your chest. “Be safe in class.”

“I always am!”

You jab the elevator button with the only finger you can wiggle without dropping everything, and the doors open right away. Sam is still watching you when you turn around inside to press the ground floor button. His smile has faded into melancholy as he pulls one hand from his pockets to wave goodbye. Your heart sinks with the elevator and you make a mental note to text Dean to check up on him this weekend, knowing that whatever’s going on is obviously something he can’t talk to you about. He already would have if he could, which worries you more than you’d like to admit. There are very few things Sam can’t tell you, and that thought hangs over you like a black cloud for the rest of the day.

You’re sitting on the floor of your apartment sewing up a new pair of shoes when someone knocks. Frowning, you look up at the door and squint. You hadn’t invited anyone over, nor had you ordered food, and you’re really not in the mood for someone trying to sell you something. You’d hung a “no soliciting” placard on the door last week. So far it hasn't done you any good.

Whoever it is knocks again and you sigh, climbing to your feet and crossing the living room. You peek through the peephole and your frown gets deeper when you see a rain-soaked Sam standing in the hallway..

“Oh my gosh, Sam!” You usher him inside, taking the two hanging garment bags from his hands and setting them aside before hurrying off to get him a set of towels. He’s soaked to the bone and dripping onto the carpet but you could care less.

He shivers as he peels off his jacket and trades it for the towels. “I should’ve called before I left, sorry.”

You shake your head and carry his coat to hang over the shower curtain rod in the bathroom. “It’s okay,” you call through the open doorway. “Why didn’t you take an Uber? It’s pouring outside!”

“I left my phone at the studio,” he shouts back, immediately lowering his voice when you step back into the main part of your apartment. “Sorry. I left my phone at the studio, but I didn’t have time to grab it in between my meeting and coming here. Are you busy?”

Gathering up your sewing supplies and the shoes, you shake your head again. You start tucking everything back where it belongs inside your bag.

“Not really, just prepping for the week. What was your meeting about? Did you show them those designs?”

“It wasn’t with the company,” Sam says, and you pause with a pointe shoe in each hand. “Do you still have some of my clothes here?”

Sam had lived with you for a few weeks earlier in the year when his building was getting fumigated, and you’re still finding things he left behind. You nod and gesture down the short hallway towards your room. He tugs off his socks before heading to search for dry clothes, the towels still in hand.

“So who was your meeting with?” you ask when he comes back a few minutes later. He’s found a pair of sweatpants but no shirt and you’re careful not to stare. Sam’s a beautiful man and you’d be stupid not to realize it, but he’s extremely conscious of his appearance after spending so many years working with male dancers.

You can sense Sam’s hesitation when he answers, “It was with someone from New York.”

Heart sinking, you zip up your bag and grab your water bottle from where you’d left it on the floor. You take a sip, leaning against the awkward pillar in your living room as you wait to see if he will elaborate.

Your building is an old house that's been converted into a few apartments, which means for some oddities. The pillar in the living room, the strange closet in the kitchen no wider than an ironing board, and the square green window at the top of your bathroom ceiling are the most notable.

Sam leans against the other side of the pillar, peering down at you. “What?”

“I didn’t say anything.” You take another sip of your water bottle.

“Yeah, but you’re thinking it.”

You shrug and he raises an eyebrow. “Fine,” you huff. “Why are you meeting with other people now, Sam, and in New York of all places? That’s so far away! Aren’t you happy designing for the company? Are they not giving you enough work?”

He searches your face for a moment, his expression unreadable. Finally, Sam asks, “Where did you put those bags I had?”

Looking around, you spot them draped haphazardly over the arm of your couch. You push off the pillar to grab them, setting your water bottle aside so you can hold one in each hand. The rainwater rolls down the slick outer covers of the bags and drips onto the carpet. The leather of the couch where they’d been laying is covered with droplets and a thin sheen of water.

Sam takes one of the hangers and lifts it to hang on the hook you’d put high up on the pillar for this exact purpose. He’d brought over enough costumes for you to need it. Carefully, he unzips the bag to reveal the bodice of a costume you’d never seen before.

“Sam, what’s—”

“Just wait,” he says, cutting you off as he takes the other bag from you. He lays this one out on the floor and unzips it, then pulls out the matching tutu. It’s a romantic style, with crystals that pack together at the waist and gradually scatter as you get farther down the skirt. The bodice has the same crystals gathered around the deep neckline.

“What is this for? Is this for me?”

You can’t bear to tear your eyes away from the silky fabric, but you manage to look between him and the hanging garment bag all the same. Sam’s watching you with a wide smile on his face.

“Do you like it?” he asks.

The fabric is the same color as the pointe shoes you’d been looking at weeks ago during your monthly off-season movie night. You’d never be able to wear them as part of the company, they had strict restrictions for your appearance on stage, but you’d marveled at them and bookmarked the page all the same. Sam had noted that the color would look good on you and that had been the end of the conversation.

“I love it, but why? Sam, there’s no show for this!”

He simply smiles and gathers up the tutu, standing. “Try it on.”

“Sam, I—”

“Try it on,” he repeats. The tutu is shoved into your arms and the bodice is suddenly there too, and he’s pushing you towards your bedroom before you can argue. Sam shuts the door behind you and you stand there, too flabbergasted to even begin to strip out of your day clothes.

In the living room, your warm-up playlist begins over your bluetooth speaker and you blink, jolted back into reality by the familiar music. Most likely Sam knew it would get your brain working again. You’d joked once that you had a Pavlovian response to the first song.

You look down at the costume in your arms and then very gently lay it on the bed. It’s one of Sam’s most beautiful creations, even if it is a bit understated compared to some of the others. The knowledge that it’s meant only for you and not for a show is enough to make it the best. Tears prick at your eyes and you quickly wipe them away before they can spill over onto your cheeks.

Sam is waiting for you when you come out of the bedroom. He’s perched on the arm of the sofa, tapping the cracked leather with one hand while the other fidgets with the case on your phone. He stands as soon as he sees you standing on the edge of the living room.

You fold your hands in front of you and give him a nervous smile. The costume fits like a glove; Sam always has your most updated measurements on hand, and you know he keeps careful track of the small fixes he has to make for different shows and costumes. As the years have passed, there are very few things he has to fix in your costumes just because he knows you and what you need so well. You try hard not to smooth your hands over the tutu or play with the beautiful embellishments as you wait for him to speak up.

“Does it look okay?” you finally ask. The music is still playing through your speaker, but it fades away in your mind as you meet Sam’s gaze.

“Do you like it?”

“I already told you I love it! Does it look okay on me?”

“You’re stunning, Y/N, but I always think that, no matter what you’re wearing.” He slips your phone in his pocket, his shoulders relaxing as he crosses your tiny apartment to take your hands in his. “I have one more surprise for you, but it won’t be ready until tomorrow, okay?”

You shake your head at him. “Sam, this is too much. What’s all this even for? I don’t— Are you okay? Did something happen with the company? Does this have to do with the meeting you had today?”

Though you know he won’t answer any of the questions, you ask them anyway. Sam simply squeezes your hands in response and pulls your phone back out of the pocket of the sweatpants. He taps a few times on the screen, typing something out before locking it again.

“There’s a pickup code in the notes on here, so you should be able to get your package tomorrow after class. It’s at the normal locker location where you get your stuff. Come over as soon as you’re ready to dance in this, okay?”

“Package? What? Sam, I don’t understand…”

He smiles and leans in, pressing a chaste kiss on your cheek. “I promise everything will make sense tomorrow, okay? Do you trust me?”

“I always trust you,” you reply. You lean into his kiss, your heart skipping a beat at the contact. Sam may have been your best friend, but you’d always wished for a little more than he’d allowed you to have.

He seems satisfied with your answer because he moves away, handing your phone to you before heading into the bathroom to get his clothes. They’ve only had a chance to drip dry a little.

“Wait, Sam, at least let me call you an Uber!”

He’s dressed in his wet clothes again when he comes back out, and you scramble to order him a car. Sam doesn’t wait, though, and you have to chase him down the steps of your apartment in the costume.

You grab onto his arm before he can walk out into the rain. “What is going on with you?” Before he can pull away, you reach up and take his face in your hands. “Did you get hit on the head or something? Do I need to call Dean? Or Mary?”

The smile on his face doesn’t falter as he places his hands over yours for a moment, then gently pulls them from his cheeks. “I’m fine, Y/N. I promise. I just… I have a surprise for you and I’m excited. That’s all, I swear.”

Sam’s voice is warm and his words are steady, but you only feel slightly reassured. It’s so unlike him to surprise you with such a grand gesture, especially for no reason at all. The costume is more than enough to make you feel treasured, but after he threw in the package and then told you to come to his studio, you don’t know what to think.

Your phone chimes in your hand and you look away. The Uber you’d ordered is only a minute away. Sam sees it on the screen as well and he steps away, holding your hands for a moment longer before heading to the door. You stand there in the costume, your bare feet sticking to the dirty apartment tile as he steps back out into the rain, still smiling.

The next day, you’re distracted for the entirety of your warm-up, class, and rehearsal. It doesn’t go unnoticed by the ballet master and the scolding you get after the first break dampens your mood. The other dancers notice you're distracted as well, and it takes your partner pulling you aside to make sure you’re feeling okay to snap you back into your professional persona.

You get through the rest of your day with little trouble from the other dancers. By the time you’re able to go pick up the package Sam had ordered for you, you’re exhausted. The lockers are closer to your apartment than to his studio, but you trudge through the damp, semi-crowded streets and tug open the door to the grocery store that houses them as your heart skips every other beat, speeding up with the promise of surprise.

After punching in the code, a locker in the bottom row pops open and you bend down to pull out the box. It’s nothing special and just has Sam’s name and the locker address on the top. There’s nothing to tell you where or who it’s from, so you pull out your phone and give him a call.

“Do I get to open this box now or do I have to wait until I’m at the studio?” you ask as soon as he answers.

Sam laughs and through the usual background noise of his workspace, you hear other voices, and you frown. He preferred to keep guests out of the studio while he was working. It would only take one hand to count the number of times other people had been there the same time as you.

“Wait till you get here. Please?” 

The polite manners make you smile. Sam was a Kansas boy, born and raised, and his upbringing always found a way to shine through, even if he was being crafty. 

“Fine,” you groan. “I’ll be there in twenty.”

“I’ll be waiting,” he replies, and you end the call as you’re walking out the door of the shop.

You make it to Sam’s studio in seventeen minutes. You’d had to stop at your place and pick up the two garment bags containing the bodice and the tutu he’d left with you last night. Sam is waiting outside for the building when you arrive, and you slow as you near the front door.

“Hey, how was class?” he asks, more casually than you would have liked.

Giving him a nervous, but excited, smile, you shrug. “Fine. The pas de deux is coming along. Is this part of the surprise?” You pointedly flick your eyes up and down his body. Now that you’re closer, you can see he’s wearing sweatpants and a black t-shirt, a drastic change from his usual work attire. Sam is a firm believer in dressing professionally, even if that just means nice jeans and even if he’s the only one at the studio that day.

“You trust me, right?” he asks in response.

You narrow your eyes at him. “Sam…”

“Let’s go inside.” He turns and opens the front door for you, gesturing for you to enter first. You comply and head to the elevator, then jab your thumb against the call button. Sam stops beside you and holds out his hand for the garment bags, but you shake your head.

The two of you ride the elevator up to the top floor, and when the doors slide open to reveal the studio, it’s bustling with activity. There are more people in the space than there are permanent staff at the company and you stall in the doorway, heart pumping in your chest. It takes Sam’s gentle hand on the small of your back to spur your forward.

“Sam…”

He smiles down at you and takes the garment bags in one hand, then leads you over to the couch. A plump woman with a kind smile pats the seat beside her.

“You must be Miss Y/L/N. We’ve heard a lot about you,” she says, and you give her a wavering, confused smile.

“I… can’t say I’ve heard a lot about you, unfortunately.” You cast a slightly pointed glance in Sam’s direction, but he’s busied himself with hanging the bags in the changing area of the studio. “You are?”

“My name is Eloise Vernon. I’m with the American Ballet Theatre.” She holds out her hands to shake and your stomach drops as you force a more confident, polite smile on your face. 

Reaching out a hand, you shake hers and set the package on the couch. “It’s so nice to meet you. Please, forgive me for being so rude, I—”

“No apology necessary.” Eloise waves one hand dismissively. Her smile is knowing as she continues, “Mr. Winchester explained that our presence here would be a surprise to you. I expected a bit of confusion on your part, though maybe not this much.”

You glance over at Sam. He’s gathered with a group of men in the corner of the studio. The dance space there is normally used for dancers—mainly you, since you’re always Sam’s first guinea pig—to try out their costumes while moving. Now, however, there are women arranging various costumes on a rack nearby. A white photo backdrop has been set up along the edge of the dance floor. Another man, probably younger than Sam, is standing behind a camera. He peers into the lens and adjusts the position of the tripod, pointing it towards the backdrop.

“May I ask why you’re here?” you finally reply, looking back at Eloise.

“To see you, Miss Y/L/N.”

You blink at her, shocked. You’ve never reached out to the theatre, and the ABT is so prestigious that you have to be invited to audition for their company.  “I’m sorry, what?”

“Like I said earlier, we’ve heard a lot about you. It was Mr. Winchester who initially pointed us in your direction, but since then we’ve seen videos and live performances. You’re an excellent dancer, and we decided it was time to connect face-to-face with you. These circumstances are a bit unusual, of course. We don’t normally recruit dancers with so much fanfare.” She gestures around the studio that’s teeming with energy despite the setting sun.

Sam’s suddenly at your side, a hand on your shoulder, and you look up at him from your spot on the couch. He reaches down with his free hand to move the box into your lap.

“Open it,” he urges.

Eloise rises and gives you another kind smile before moving off towards the other people that you can only assume are part of the ABT as well. You’re distracted by the ongoing commotion in the room, and after a second, Sam crouches down to block your view of them. 

“Hey,” he says, and you blink to try and focus on him. “You okay?”

“It’s just… This is a lot, Sam. ABT? How did you get in contact with them? Why did you get in contact with them, and why are they here now? Is this an audition? I’m not prepared for an audition, and if I’d known, then I’d—”

“Y/N. Just open the box, will you?”

You inhale sharply, a bit irritated that Sam’s avoiding your questions, but he’s never steered you in the wrong direction. His calm reassurance is enough to soothe your nerves just a little bit. You trust him, and you love him, and you’d follow him anywhere. So, you open the box.

Inside is another box, and this time it’s a familiar sight. The brand of shoe you wear is emblazoned across the top and you swallow thickly.

“Sam, these are expensive!” you hiss, leaning to the side to peek at Eloise. She’s still talking with the others on the far side of the studio. “You didn’t have to buy me another pair of pointe shoes, the company helps pay for them.”

He smiles. “Open it.”

You glance at him and then obey, prying open the shoebox. The shoes inside are pointe shoes, but they’re not your usual. They’re the shoes you’d seen online, the ones that match the costume Sam has made for you, and you gasp. Instantly, you’re blinking away tears at the gesture.

“I—”

“I know that you haven’t prepped them, but they should be the exact kind you get, just a different color. You can get them ready in what, twenty minutes?” he asks, and you nod dumbly at him. “Change into the costume when you’re done, okay?”

You swallow thickly, staring at him with teary eyes for a long moment, and then you’re throwing your arms around Sam’s neck to pull him into a tight hug.

“Thank you,” you whisper into his ear. “I love them. I love you so much, Sam.”

He hugs you back. When the two of you separate, you sniffle and wipe at your eyes to try and compose yourself. The little bit of makeup you’d put on that morning won’t budge with a few tears, but you don’t want to be a mess in front of Eloise and the others. You still have no idea why they’re there, which means leaving them with a good impression of you is more important than most things.

It takes you exactly twenty minutes to prep the shoes. Just like Sam had said, the specifications were the exact same as the others you wear, which means that he either snuck a peek at the boxes and your receipts or he knew you better than you thought he did. Sure, you were best friends, but knowing shoe specs wasn’t even part of his job as the company costumer.

Eloise and Sam are standing at his design table, pouring over stacks of papers, sketchbooks, and his tablet. You slip into the changing area while they’re still busy, and by the time you’re dressed in the costume and finished tying up your shoes, they’re waiting for you on the edge of the dancefloor.

Sam smiles wide as soon as he sees you, and you shy away from his intent gaze.

“What do you want me to do now?” you ask, unsure if you should be asking him or Eloise.

“Do you know the Act II pas de deux from Swan Lake, Miss Y/L/N?” Eloise asks, and you nod. She gestures towards a small group that has gathered on the far side of the dancefloor, and a man only slightly older than you steps out. He’s dressed in a costume similar to yours and he smiles warmly.

“You want me to dance for you?” you ask, though the question feels like a stupid one as soon as you ask.

Eloise only smiles, and Sam grins beside her. “Yes. We realize that your shoes are new, but we’ve seen you perform before. This is more of a formality than anything. Do you need some time to warm up?”

Her words are spinning in your brain and your breath catches in your throat. You want to ask if she means what you think she does—that you’ll be invited to be a part of the ABT—but you can’t bear to ask the question in case you’re wrong. 

Slowly, you shake your head and step onto the floor. The man introduces himself in a soft voice as soon as you’re close enough to hear and you take a deep breath, smiling and doing the same. Once the pleasantries are out of the way, you take your positions and silently try to calm the swell of anxiety. Your heart is beating much quicker than you would like and you take another deep breath. The music starts on your exhale and you begin.

It’s easy to lose yourself in the dance. The pas de deux is one you’ve danced many times before, mainly last season, and though it’s been awhile since you’ve partnered with someone new, the man makes it easy. Sam, Eloise, and the others fade from your view as you dance. Your nerves are no longer at the forefront of your mind and all you can focus on is what comes next. Finally, you realize that the music has ended, and you carefully move back to a neutral position.

Sam watches you with utter awe on his face, while Eloise is simply smiling. Your partner shakes your hand with a smile of his own and you watch from the center of the floor as he retreats to his spot along the edge.

“That was lovely, Miss Y/L/N, thank you,” Eloise says. You bow accordingly, and she gestures to the photo backdrop when you rise. “We’d like some photos of you in this costume, if that’s alright with you?”

You nod and let her guide you over. Sam trails behind and stands at the edge of the group as you’re asked to pose, leap, pirouette, and move in front of the camera. You’re sweating by the time the photographer says he’s satisfied, and you finally relax as Eloise stands with him and looks through the photos on a nearby laptop.

“You doing okay?” Sam’s snuck up behind you with a water bottle and you jump. He laughs as you take the bottle and drink half of it in one go.

“This is crazy,” you hiss at him, turning your back on Eloise and the photographer. You’re smiling, though, and you know that Sam can tell you’ve been enjoying yourself. “The pas de deux? A photoshoot? Is this really what I think it is, Sam?”

He smiles, shrugging a little. “The world needs to see you dance, Y/N. You’re good enough to go all the way to the top, if that’s what you want.”

“What if… that’s not what I want?”

You hesitate to ask knowing how hard Sam must have worked to get the people from ABT here and to keep it a secret from you, but it’s important. Years ago, you would have done anything for a spot in their company. Now you love your life. Yes, you’d still love to move to New York and dance for them, but it wouldn’t be the same, not without Sam.

“What?” His face falls and he glances back at Eloise, then takes your arm to guide you to the corner of the backdrop where there are no people within earshot. “Y/N, what are you talking about? You’re always watching their videos and talking about how fun it would be to dance with them! Is this seriously not what you want?”

You search his face, then set the bottle down on the floor. Taking Sam’s hands, you tell him, “Dancing with the American Ballet Theatre would be a dream come true, Sam, but it’s not the only dream I have. I love living here and dancing with the company. I love getting to spend my free time with you and wearing your costumes every season. I love our movie nights and our day trips to see your family. I don’t want to give up those things. I don’t… I don’t want to chase something that’s only been a pipedream for so long and give up a really good thing that I already have.”

Sam’s arms are suddenly around you, crushing the tutu against your legs as he holds you tight. You cough out a laugh in surprise but quickly wrap your arms around his waist and close your eyes. He kisses the top of your head and you breathe in deep, pulling away just enough to look up at him.

“They offered me a job, Y/N,” he says, his voice soft under all the noise in the studio. “If you go, I go.”

Tears flood your eyes for the second time that day and you have to take another deep breath to steady yourself. “What?”

He nods, smiling wide. “They offered me a position in their costume shop as a designer. I told them I’d take it if they were willing to consider you, and…”

You laugh and hug him hard again. “Sam, that’s amazing!”

Sam laughs and you have to pull away to wipe your nose on the back of your hand as it runs. Some of the tears have escaped down your cheeks and you wipe them away as Sam turns to dry his own tears.

“Is that why you’ve been acting so weird?” you ask, and he laughs, nodding in response.

“Well, that and—”

Eloise’s voice makes you step further away from Sam and look in her direction. “Miss Y/L/N, are you up for one more thing?” she asks.

You nod, smiling politely and trying to contain the excitement as Sam’s job offer before it bubbles over into unprofessionalism. “Yes, ma’am. Where would you like me?”

Gesturing to the couch where you’d first sat together, Eloise starts walking. You trail behind. She sits in her spot from before with her phone in hand, and you note the voice memo app open on the screen as you sit.

“We just have a few questions for you before we make a final decision. You are aware that this is considered an official interview for a spot in the American Ballet Theatre, correct?” she asks. You nod. “Good. And that is something you’d be interested in?”

You glance at Sam, who’s smiling as he glances in between a man in a suit and the tablet in his hands, then nod again. “Yes. I would be very interested in dancing with ABT.”

Eloise smiles. “Very well. I’m going to be recording this, but only a few people will be privy to the recording. Is that alright?”

After you give your consent, Eloise starts recording and begins to ask you questions. She has them memorized, and you think to yourself that she must have asked them dozens of times to know them all by heart, just as you know your dances. She asks about your training, your performances, and your qualifications. She asks about injuries and preferences, hobbies, and likes and dislikes. She asks you about things that don’t even seem relevant to a job with the company, though you know better. When you dance with a company as big as ABT, anything and everything can impact your spot and your job. It’s part of why you’ve been so hesitant to even consider pursuing New York. Sam’s confidence in you is the only thing getting you through those doubts as you answered Eloise’s unending questions.

Finally, she stops the recording with a smile. “I have to say that I’m very impressed with you, Miss Y/L/N.”

“Thank you,” you say, smiling with relief. The nerves have all gone now. Whatever happens will happen.

“I cannot speak for the others involved with the invitation process,” Eloise continues, “but I think it’s safe to say that you should expect an invitation soon. You’re clearly a very talented, diligent dancer, and I think that you would be a great asset to the ABT.”

Your heart swells. You smile even wider at her, then find Sam’s eyes across the room. His expression no doubt mirrors your own.

“Thank you, Ms. Vernon. That’s really great news.”

You and Eloise finish your conversation, and then her and her crew begin to clear out. It’s easiest for you and Sam to stay out of the way, so you sit together on the couch, watching as they pack up equipment and costumes that you never changed into. They pack into the elevator in groups, filling every square inch and otherwise disregarding the weight limit. If you hadn’t been so stunned, you’d probably warn them that the building was old and that some of them should wait. The photographer is the last one out, and he waves as he steps into the otherwise empty elevator with his gear.

You heave a heavy sigh as soon as the doors close. Sam looks over at you, smiling a little, and he leans back against the couch.

“You okay?” he asks, his fingers intertwined with yours.

“I think so,” you reply with a nod. “I’m still processing, I think.”

“An offer to dance with the ABT is a big deal.”

“A potential offer,” you correct.

Sam only shrugs. When you stand to change out of your shoes and costume, however, he doesn’t let go of your hand. You look down at him, raising an eyebrow.

“You gonna let me change so I can go home? I’m starving, you know. I’d rather not make any innocent bystanders on the street have to deal with hangry Y/N.”

“Will you dance again for me before you change?” he asks.

You nod without giving it a second thought. It’s common for Sam to watch and take notes while you dance in a new costume. You’ve already danced once today, but you didn’t remember him with his notebook, so you assume that he wants to make some notes on the fit and style.

“Is there something specific you want?”

He stands. “The pas de deux would be fine.”

Frowning, you turn your back on him and head to the dance floor, then start to stretch a little, knowing that your muscles would be aching soon if you didn’t. “I guess I can do parts of it, but that requires a partner, Sam. You know that, or did that rain last night wash away all your knowledge of ballet?” you tease.

“I could partner.”

“What?”

He starts to stretch beside you and you automatically track his movements without truly looking at him, noticing that he’s doing all the same stretches the male dancers in the company do. Sam doesn’t even bat an eye at the ones that would be challenging or painful for people who aren’t used to them. 

Finally, you stop what you’re doing, stand, and put your hands on your hips. “Sam Winchester, you’ve been hiding something from me, haven’t you?”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” he replies, but he’s staring up at you from the floor with such a wide grin on his face that you can’t even try to believe him.

“What are you not telling me?” you huff. He doesn’t respond and you narrow your eyes as he twists and grabs one of the foam rollers from beside the mirrors to roll out his muscles. He’s too comfortable with the action for someone who doesn’t do it often, and it’s then that you realize he’s taken off his sweats to reveal a pair of black ballet tights and slippers. “Sam, have you been dancing?”

Sam laughs. “I told you I’d been training, why is this such a surprise?”

You blink, a bit taken aback. You’d thrown the idea out there thinking he’d shoot you down and say that he’d just gotten into yoga or something, not actually confirm your suspicions.

“This is insane. You realize that this is actually insane, right? First the costume, then the shoes and ABT, and now you tell me that you’ve been dancing and I never even noticed?” You scoff and rest your hands on top of your head, turning to look around the studio for cameras just in case you’re being punked by some of the other dancers in your company. Sure, you play tricks on each other, but never anything this involved.

He stands and touches your waist, just above the tutu and just enough to get your attention. You turn back to him, swallowing hard at the tender expression on his face.

“I missed dancing with you,” Sam explains. “And I… I was a little self-conscious about it at first. I didn’t want you to ask why I’d suddenly gotten back into dancing after all this time.”

“Why did you?” you ask.

“Isn’t it obvious?” When it’s clear that you still haven’t caught on to whatever he’s trying to say, Sam steps closer and continues, “It’s because of you, Y/N. You’re my best friend, and I love you, and dance is something that you love. I want to be able to dance with you, and even though I can’t even remotely match your skills, I want to be a good partner on and off the floor.”

You stare at him for a second, and then you’re smiling. “Really?”

He nods. Sam still seems uncertain despite your wide smile, and you look down to grip his hands in yours. You lead them to your waist, and then you push up onto your toes. Immediately, Sam is supporting you just like any good partner should.

“You’ve really been training just to dance with me?” you ask, meeting his eyes. It’s easier now that you’re up on pointe and he chuckles. 

“I have.”

“For how long?”

“Since we moved here,” he admits. “I learned a bunch of partner dances, including the pas de deux, just in case it ever came up. I convinced Eloise to have you dance the Swan Lake one today.”

You snort. “You convinced an ABT staff member to have me dance that specific pas de deux just so you could flirt with me later?”

Sam’s face and neck flush pink and you can’t help but laugh. You wobble a little and you adjust your stance, but Sam continues to help you keep your balance in his arms like he’s been your partner for years. You suppose, in a way, he has been.

“I can’t believe you hid it this long from me.”

“You got really close to finding out a few times. I’ll have to tell you about them tomorrow.”

Slowly, you lower yourself back down to the floor. Sam keeps his hands on your waist. “Why not now?”

He smiles wide. “Because right now I want to dance with you, Y/N. I’ve waited a long time for this and I don’t think I can wait another day.”

It’s your turn to shy away from his gaze, but Sam squeezes your waist and then lets go, moving to where he should be for the beginning of the dance. You watch him move, then carefully shift to where you should be as well. You close your eyes, take a deep breath, and then when the music starts, you dance.

Thank you for reading! <3

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20 OBJECTS WRITING CUT DOWN EVEN MORE (VER. 3)

Seraph of the End Manga

I watched the Seraph of the End anime for the first time when I was around 13 and ironically, I nearly didn’t finish it, but I’m really glad I stuck with it because now it’s one of my favourite pieces of media of all time.

Burts bees

I used to not take good care of my body at all and Lip balm is just a representation of the changes and routine I made to try and get better when I was depressed. I use lip balm all the time and it’s a simple self care thing that makes me feel better.

Washi tape

Washi tape is a staple at a lot of stationary shops and I can't handle the temptation and usually leave a stationary shop with something. I just like the aesthetics and patterns of washi tape that inspire some of my brightly coloured art, and sometimes I even digitally draw washi tape to emulate physical craft style.

Miffy wallet

Miffy is a rabbit character from the Netherlands and another character I enjoy collecting items from. This Miffy wallet is also a gift from my sister, as she’s always looking out for me and things I might enjoy, as she knows I’m a bit of a collector. Rabbits or rabbit features show up in my work a lot, almost as a representation of myself.

Tamagotchi

This is a Sanrio edition tamagotchi, which only ever came out in Japanese. My sister and I both had tamagotchis around 2010. I watch videos about the timeline and all about the different versions of tamagotchis that were made. It's a nostalgia thing and reminds me to put a childish 2000s flair into my work.

Stickers

I’m a collector, and my stack of sticker sheets is further proof. I get really nervous about using them. I want to keep all of them nice forever. A lot of the stickers are made by artists and often they’re made as merchandise for a show or cartoon I watch. It's been my dream to sell things like stickers myself.

Water cup

I have a love for water and hydrating, like all normal living things do. I genuinely believe drinking a lot more water and staying hydrated throughout the day has made me a happier, healthier person. Everything also just tastes better when drunk with a straw.

Converse

I wore fake Kmart Converse hundreds of times before finally investing in a pair of real Converse. I got them at my mum's insistence since she was sick of me getting blisters with the ill-fitting dupe. Shoes are extremely important to see the world in and to take inspiration from the world around me for my creative practice.

Pokémon cards

I have spent a crazy amount of money on my Pokémon card collection. But for me, it isn’t about pulling the crazy rare and expensive cards, it’s all about collecting the pretty cards or cards I find visually appealing. I collect these to appease my childhood self who wasn't allowed to buy Pokémon cards.

Ticket stubs

Here are some of the ticket stubs or receipts I’ve collected from going to shows. I keep these to preserve the memory of going out with friends or family to watch something. I really enjoy taking in the art and beauty of animated movie as inspiration for my own bright and bold creative style.

Keroppi figure

Keroppi is a frog from Sanrio, and I got this specific figure from a blind box, which means you’re not sure which design or character you’re going to get when you buy the box. I thought it was really cute that I got the one that is shown to be drawing just like a representation of me.

Sonny Angel

At first, I used to think Sonny Angels were creepy but the more I learned about them, the more I was swayed. Of course, they are also just a piece of expensive plastic that we buy and collect, but sometimes it’s about the simple pleasures in life.

Wacom

I got my first Wacom tablet when I was around 12 after borrowing my sister's far too much. I’m actually a horrible physical artist compared to my digital skills which you would think would crossover. This was the first step in taking me down the path of graphic design and helped me realise what I wanted to do for work later in life.

Testosterone

This is my medical prescription for testosterone. I go in every 3 weeks for an injection of this stuff. It took a lot of time to get to this point in my life, but I can confidently say it has made me a happier, more confident person to finally feel like I’m comfortable in my own skin. Cis or not. It’s important for us as people to express ourselves authentically.

Fuggler Box

This box once housed a fuggler, a funny, ugly creature. These toys are meant to be, well, ugly to an extent. They have interestingly shaped bodies, small beady eyeballs, and visible, semi-realistic-looking teeth! Despite the intent of them being made ugly, I find them quite endearing. I like this idea of finding the beautiful behind the ugly.

Grape Fanta

My love for artificial grape flavouring knows no bounds. I don’t even like real grapes! Fizzy drinks, soda, pop, whatever you want to call it, is one of my favourite things to drink as a treat. When I’m feeling down or I’m losing motivation, I treat myself to full strength, full sugar, definitely bad for me, soda.

He/Him Badge

I got this badge just before starting my transition. It was really hard to know inside that I was a man, but people around me didn’t know, which makes sense because I definitely don’t look like a typical man. To be honest, I don’t wear it very much anyway, as I became more confident in myself, and as long as I and the people close to me understood my identity, that’s what mattered most.

Splatoon Amiibo

Splatoon is a video game where you play as a 'squid kid’ (a kid who can also turn into a squid) and hang out in Inkopolis Square, shop for colourful streetwear fashion with unique abilities, and play games of turf war where yo try to paint the majority of the map in your team colour.

Dsi

The DSi was my first ever gaming console. I got it for Christmas one year from my nana when I was 7. This began my love for Nintendo and video games. I played a lot with my sister and they are fond memories. Video games go hand in hand with graphic design as they communicate a story visually and through a creative style.

Tote bag

I started buying tote bags for university thinking they would be cool and convenient. In actuality, they were inconvenient. I still have a considerable collection of them because I think they add to an outfit and you’ll typically see a tote bag as a creatives bag of choice, so I guess I’m just doing my duty as a designer.

Batsis & Green Lantern, Sittin’ In A Tree. K-I-S-S-I-N–Wait, Is That Our Sister? PT. 2

Kyle Rayner x Batsis One-Shot

Word Count: 3.3K Warnings: NSFW (Slightly), Explicit Language Tags: @starflyer-104

Author's Note: Hi I finished this! Enjoy! -Thorne

**********************************************************************

Oddly enough, she didn’t make Kyle do anything other than design the first month he was at Wayne Manor. And she was true to her word. He had an entire room to himself, and the room was as big as his whole apartment, bigger if he was honest; and that wasn’t all—he had every instrument an artist could ever want, even some of the newest drawing tablets and pens that hadn’t even come out yet. Limited edition first pick that only someone like her could get her hands on by merely flashing that pretty smile and her last name of “Wayne”. It was a graphic artists dream come alive, and Kyle was afraid that he was going to wake up from it that he never once tried to pinch himself to see if it was a dream or not.

Surprisingly enough though, (Y/N) was being awfully nice to him too. She’d taken him shopping a bunch of times, a whole new wardrobe and even thrown in a new phone and laptop. Of course, Kyle wasn’t a fool and immediately confronted her about using her purchases to hold it over him. That was the one instance in which she wasn’t awfully nice because she sucker-punched him and told him to never call her a manipulator ever again. That she had never once used a purchase to force someone into something—she was a bitch but she wasn’t that kind of bitch.

He even questioned Jason about it once they got back to the manor and his friend cackled at the nice shiner he’d received. (Y/N) doesn’t buy things for people to make them do what she wants. She buys things for people because that’s how she shows she’s fond of them. Honestly, if she buys you what you want, especially if you ask for it, that’s how you know she thinks you’re a friend of hers. Just let her spoil you for a while, Rayner. You’ll miss it when you have to go back to NYC.

Kyle relented then, instead of fighting her on paying for everything, he watched her. Watched her when he asked for something. Just for a split second she’d get a look of honest surprise in her eyes before that smirk crossed her lips and she’d toss it in the basket before picking up her own needs. He found it almost endearing, the way she acted, like she wasn’t expecting him to ask for anything. And Kyle especially liked that look in her eyes. It made his heart beat a little faster when she gazed at him with those big eyes.

And while he did love that look, it only lasted for one month. Hell had come to the manor, and Kyle was smack in the middle of it.

***

“Good morning family!” she greeted cheerfully, placing her hands on Kyle’s shoulders. She received various replies, some happy, some tired, and Kyle gave his own.

“Morning, (Y/N). You seem happy.” He cut into the buttery waffle and started bringing the fork to his mouth when she grabbed his hand and gently but firmly, took the utensil into her mouth. Kyle couldn’t help but go slack jawed as she chewed and swallowed, offering him a smirk.

“I’m sorry,” she purred. “Did you want that?” His mouth opened and closed, and she pushed the plate forward, replacing it with a tall smoothie shaker that was a bright, sickly green.

“Uh…” he started, looking between the shaker and her. “What’s that?”

(Y/N) nodded at it. “That’s your breakfast for this morning.” She flipped the cap open. “It’s got spinach, kale, bananas, vanilla flavored protein powder, pineapple, mint leaves and spirulina.” She grinned. “It’s got all the protein and greens you need for the start of this wonderful day.”

“I don’t even know what spirulina is.” Kyle remarked.

“Blue-green algae super-food.” (Y/N) nodded at it. “From now on you’re going to drink smoothies every morning and then we’re going to weight train and run every Monday, Wednesday, and Friday.”

Her family started snickering around the table and Kyle swallowed thickly daring to ask, “And Tuesdays and Thursdays?”

She grinned wickedly at him. “Combat, Rayner.” Handing him the shake, she quipped, “Drink up me hearties.”

“Yo ho.” Kyle whimpered when he sniffed it and gagged.

***

“C’mon weakling,” she nagged. “You’ve barely gotten through the second set. Don’t tell me you’re already tired.”

Kyle groaned as he pushed the weighted bar up, holding it for a second before letting it fall. “I told you I can bench press one-hundred. You put one-twenty on this bar,” he griped through gritted teeth.

(Y/N) smirked. “Feel that pain though? It’s weakness leaving your body.” She grabbed the bar with one hand, pulling it up and onto the hold; she grinned as Kyle panted, chest heaving up and down with every sharp intake of breath.

“I—don’t know—how you do this—everyday.” He gasped and she snorted.

“No pain, no gain, Rayner.” She walked around him, and Kyle was too weak to keep his eyes off her as she did. “Oh, I can’t wait for tomorrow,” she cooed, throwing a leg over his hips, lowering onto his thighs.

Kyle’s throat tightened and he gazed at her as she leaned forward, propping her elbows on his chest, staring into his eyes. “Pretty close there,” he panted and (Y/N) smiled.

“Closer the better in my opinion.” Her eyes narrowed bemusedly. “From here I can get a good view of your form.” She pulled away. “You’re using your lower back to push strength into your arms. This time, use your chest and shoulders. Deep breath when you push up, breathe out when you lower, okay?”

He nodded, grabbing the bar again. “What set now?”

“Three. Five reps.” (Y/N) pressed a hand to his abdomen. “Core muscles tight. Glutes tight. Keep the stability and use your upper body muscles alright?”

“Got it.” He said, pulling the bar off and she felt his pelvis start to push upwards and she splayed her fingers.

“Chest, Kyle. Not your hips.” He grunted, trying harder, and she put all her weight onto his hips, keeping them pressed down to the bench. It showed in his form as he improved almost instantaneously. “Nice job,” she murmured. “Keep going.”

He got to the fifth rep, starting to go up, when she purred, “Your arms are very strong, Kyle. I wonder just how strong.”

Something in her voice made his heart stutter and he forgot momentarily what he was doing. The bar shifted downwards, and he gasped as it came down at him; (Y/N) reached out, quick as lightning and grabbed it with both hands, standing from his legs to put the bar back.

She looked down at him, concern in her eyes. “Are you alright?”

“Yeah,” he breathed. “Sorry…lost my grip.” (Y/N) nodded and shimmied away, holding out a hand to him. “Thanks,” he said, letting her pull him up.

“Take five and go get some water, alright?”

He wanted to shake his head, tell her no, that he could keep going, but he thought against it and started for the water fountain in the corner. As he bent over, he happened to look back at her, seeing her bent over, stretching her legs. Heat pooled low in his gut, and he groaned, turning his eyes away.

“Jesus Christ,” he hissed. “Get a grip.”

“Let’s go, Rayner!” she called out behind him. “We’ve got two miles to run!”

Kyle let his head hand and he groaned again.

***

Compared to the day before, getting his ass kicked wasn’t as bad as it had seemed. That being said, (Y/N) wasn’t pulling her punches with him and he hadn’t managed to lay a single hit on her an hour in.

He gasped as she dropped him onto his back and he laid flat, gazing at the ceiling before him; she leaned over him, a cocky smirk on her face. “Need a break?”

“I’m not a novice in hand to hand. I trained with J’onn J’onnz for a while.” He countered with a glare and surprisingly, she nodded, rather impressed.

“I can tell in your form. You counter like he does.” (Y/N) bent down and gently swept away the sweaty hair from his forehead. “You’re learning pretty quick though, if I do say so myself.”

Kyle’s face lit up. “Really? You think—”

“But I can see that it takes you getting your ass handed to you over and over again before the lesson sinks in.”

His face pinched and he griped, “I should’ve seen that coming.”

(Y/N) snorted and patted his head, mocking, “You’re learning.” She smiled. “Now get up. You’ve rested long enough.”

“UGHHH!” he groaned, climbing to his feet.

***

On the third month and final month of the project, Kyle noticed a major improvement in himself. Not only had he lost a few of those extra pounds from snacking, toning all over his body, he’d also managed to expand his stamina a great deal. (Y/N) had congratulated him when he managed to run the various miles without even breaking a sweat.

The designs had come in well too, and Kyle honestly had more money than he knew what to do with. Well, rent and utilities were his most prominent factor, but even then, the money he’d have left over would last him a long time. He almost felt sad when they got to the final week of the project, no longer needing drawings, he was mostly there to make sure the designs were made correctly and with good materials.

(Y/N)’d even given him one of the first sets they produced and even if he was used to seeing his drawings published, it was another thing to see his name on the tag with it. It made him giddy, and he didn’t know how to rope that in with the continued nagging in the back of his brain. That it was all ending in a week. No more breakfast being made, no more laundry done, no more seeing his friends all the time and patrolling with them…and no more (Y/N) constantly.

When he thought about that, Kyle’s chest started to tighten, heart starting to hurt a lot more than he wanted to admit. And he knew why—somewhere along the lines of (Y/N)’s continual ass-kicking and training, he’d fallen in love with her. With her crude attitude and cocky smirks, her proud demeanor and skill, her beauty and the occasional kindness she showed to people, but most importantly, the love she showed for her family.

Most people saw an arrogant bitch who could school people six ways from Sunday both verbally and physically, but what they didn’t see, was the care she paid to those she loved most. To Dick’s anger issues, to Jason’s frequent regrets, to Tim’s consistent depression, to Cassandra’s ever-evolving education, to Damian’s rapid growth, to her father’s hurting soul—she cared so deeply for them, would give anything for them, even her life if it meant. And that made Kyle want to fall at her feet and worship her.

That this beautiful woman who allowed people to talk about her and never cared to correct, was the greatest woman alive, the most loving, the most caring. And she was hard, she was, but her love was tough and those that received it, her siblings and her closest friends, they knew she loved them completely. Kyle knew she cared for him. He only hoped that she wanted more.

***

The production party had been held in France and Kyle had never seen so many elites in one spot that he wasn’t sure how to even drink from his champagne chute correctly. Luckily, (Y/N) had stayed with him all night, tucking herself in his side and covering when he faltered in front of someone who didn’t speak English. And God, there was something very sexy about the way her lips moved when she spoke fluent French.

The party lasted well into the night and by the time they got back to the penthouse, he was dead on his feet. The siblings had dispersed to their rooms and (Y/N) stayed up a bit to speak with Alfred and Bruce over the phone. Kyle lingered around the kitchen with her and when she hung up, she sighed heavily, pulling out the dangling golden earrings and removing the chunky diamond necklace that probably costed more than Kyle did.

Her eyes met his and she smiled tiredly. “Did you have fun tonight?”

“I did,” he said happily. “It was…interesting to see what your life is like.” He chuckled. “Well, your day life that is.”

(Y/N) huffed a laugh and he wandered around the island, daring enough to reach up and grab her shoulders, digging his thumbs into her muscles. She groaned and hung her head a bit.

“Feel good?” he questioned, and she nodded.

“I don’t typically wear heels unless it’s for a party and I remember why.” Sighing, she pulled away from his arms and he just barely managed to keep the sadness from crossing his face as she turned. “What about you? Are you okay?”

Kyle shrugged. “Feel like I could sleep for a few days straight, but isn’t that how we all work?”

(Y/N) snorted, then sighed wistfully. “I almost don’t want this night to end.”

“How come?” he asked, and she met his gaze.

“I like seeing you flounder like a fish in front of socialites.” He rolled his eyes and she laughed, shoving him lightly. “I’m joking.” She rested her hand on his shoulder. “It’s been fun having around the manor. I know Dick and Jason have enjoyed hanging out with you.” She smiled and pulled away. “You should come back around after tomorrow.”

(Y/N) bypassed him and started towards her room when he spun and called her. “(Y/N).” she stopped and looked at him, waiting, expecting, and Kyle decided to lay his cards to her, letting her decide. “Spend the night with me.”

For a moment, she was surprised, honest to God surprised, then she smiled sweetly, something he wasn’t really used to, and she murmured, “Come with me.”

And Kyle barely managed to keep himself from tripping over his own feet as he hurried after her.

***

“Shut the door behind you,” she said, and he knew that just from the tone of her voice that she was the one who held the power—not that he cared, all he wanted was her. He felt his heart lurch as the door closed and she motioned him to come behind her. “Mind unzipping me?”

Kyle swallowed thickly as he reached up and grasped the gold zipper, gently tugging it down to where it stopped just above her rear. He also happened to notice that she wasn’t wearing any undergarments and he cursed under his breath. “Fuck, (Y/N).”

She grinned and with one hand undid the buttons behind her neck, then reached back, pulling his hands until his palms were pressed to her bare skin. “Be a dear and slip my dress off for me, hmm?” she leaned back into his hands. “Shouldn’t be too hard now.”

Before Kyle knew what he was doing, his hands were moving underneath the fabric of her dress, around her waist and up her chest, gently grabbing at the flesh of her breasts. (Y/N) gasped, a sound so saccharine in his ears, and leaned her head back on his shoulder.

“Kyle,” she whispered and with his pointer fingers, circled her nipples. Another gasp escaped her as she arched into his touch and she turned her head to the underside of his jaw, sucking the skin at his neck.

“(Y/N),” he groaned, rubbing up against her rear. “Baby...”

She was pushing away from him then, much to his dismay and she spun around, grasping at his suit. “Take your clothes off. All of them. Now.”

All that commanding she was doing was shooting straight to his cock and he obeyed immediately, not even caring about the dress shirt as he ripped it open, the buttons scattering across the carpet. He’d just gotten to his belt when he saw (Y/N) pull down her dress and he almost collapsed on his weak knees when her body came into full view.

For three whole months he’d been slowly driven insane by her tight clothes, guiltily imagining what she looked like underneath during the night, more often than not, relieving the urge.

She smirked and walked up to him, digging her fingers into the top of his pants and turned, pulling him along. They reached the beg and she yanked, sending him backwards onto the bed with a grunt, and then she was climbing atop him.

“I thought you wanted—” he gasped when she grabbed him through his pants. “I thought you wanted me to be naked.”

(Y/N) winked and squeezed him. “I changed my mind.” Leaning close, she let her lips hover above his. “I wanna see how needy I can get you.”

Kyle glared at her and surged forward, sealing her lips in a kiss before he wrapped an arm around her waist, tipping them over. She groaned into their kiss and wrapped her legs around waist. He let his free hand roam her body, caressing her side, squeezing her hip, slipping beneath her leg to grab at the flesh of her thigh. Each grasp, each pinch, each touch had her gasping and Kyle rocked against her, moaning under his breath.

Her fingers busied themselves with his belt and when she got it open, she unbuttoned his pants, and pushed them down a bit. Kyle pulled back to help but the second his hands left her body, he knew he made a mistake because she locked her ankles and placed her hands on his shoulders, shoving back. His back hit the bed and she was on top of him again, this time pinning his hands beside his head.

“Bad boy,” she admonished. “You weren’t supposed to move.”

“Sorry,” he retorted, but he wasn’t. Not in the slightest. “Couldn’t help myself.” He accentuated his point with a deep roll of his hips, and she grip briefly weakened as she ground herself down on him.

“You’re going to help yourself.” She warned, eyes devouring him where he lay. “Every movement is fifteen minutes added to how long I’m going to tease you.”

Kyle grinned. “Yes ma’am.”

(Y/N) matched his grin and before he could even see her move, she had a pillow from the top of the bed placed on his chest, long side up, enough to cover her from sight.

“What are you—” The door opened, and he tipped his head back on the mattress, seeing Dick and Jason gaping at them from the doorway.

For a solid moment, they all stared at one another, too shocked to say a word, then Dick and Jason were letting out the girliest screams Kyle had ever heard them make and they slammed the door shut.

(Y/N) sighed heavily and pressed her face into the pillow. “Lovely. Now we’re going to be all over the group chats.”

Kyle blinked, looking up at her. “You think so?”

“I know so.” She looked at him. “I knew I should’ve booked a penthouse across from this one.” (Y/N) started crawling off him when he reached out and grabbed her hips, keeping her in place; she cocked a brow. “Really? Your mood’s not killed?”

A flash of green appeared in her vision, then the door locked, and he smirked at her. “Nothing can kill my mood for you.” He squeezed her tightly. “Is yours?”

“Not in the slightest.” She reached down and traced the smirk on his lips. “Do me a favor though.”

“Anything,” Kyle agreed, and she grinned wickedly.

“Call me ma’am again.”

Hey, it’s me, the one who request the moth headcanon, sorry about the trouble and if it’s okay, instead I would like to see an MC who’s major is digital arts and animation. If not, it’s fine, just have a great day.

RFA + Minor Trio with a Mc who's major is digital arts and animations

Hey! It was no trouble at all! I hope that it’s okay for you tho, I am happy that you could request something different! I hope you enjoy this one too! Have a nice day!

Jumin

Your husband observed you. Ever since he installed a room for you alone in his penthouse, you could finally work from home a bit more.

He hadn’t realized that even before you came into the RFA, he had already worked with you.

Your major, digital arts and animation, was often used for his advertising or other programs.

You often wanted to meet the CEO, but since he always thought that you would be just a gold digger, he always rejected you, just making Jaehee send emails with the things he wanted to have inserted.

Well, today he regretted his choice back then.

Instead, he observed you.

You were working on a new project.

,,How many years did you have to study? I mean, you have so many majors… Design Director, Storyboard Director, I didn’t know, you were multitalented, my love,’’ he praised you.

You even worked a lot with the audio.

You looked up and smiled at your husband.

,,Thank you, my love. I’m trying to make your latest project work. Wanna see?’’ you asked him.

However he knew that your work would be amazing and wanted to have it be a surprise rather than get spoiled.

Zen

Your boyfriend never understood how you could be such a good multitasker.

You could cook, set the table, chat with Jaehee, and even post something on your blog.

But once he saw you at work, he understood.

It had something to do with your job.

You had to work in different kinds of media at the same time.

,,This isn’t just one,’’ you told him and scrolled through your phone.

Your long hair was in your way so you put it away with one hand.

,,I have to work with the sound, video, and stop-motion graphics at the same time. I do this and much more, but I don’t want to annoy you,’’ you laughed as you looked up.

,,You don’t annoy me, Mrs. Director,’’ he laughed and kissed you.

You were even the director of a whole section and helped new students get into the job.

,,Okay, so, see this video?’’ you showed him an animated movie you just got via email.

,,This was made by my students, but she used the wrong program because the audio is slightly separated from the video itself,’’ you told him.

He hadn’t noticed anything at first, but after you told him, he saw it too.

,,And you noticed after a few seconds? You’re amazing!’’ he smiled and looked over your shoulders. You were still cooking.

Yoosung

Your husband wondered why he never saw you or met you since your college wasn’t that far away from his building.

But thank God both of you finally met thanks to the RFA.

He was also amazed by you because you were pretty famous among students.

You even had your own blog and of course you programmed everything yourself.

It looked amazing.

You had every single section working in there, but your point was the digital arts and animation.

,,Did you really have to submit a portfolio to be admitted?’’ he asked you when he read your latest blog.

You nodded at him as you typed something on your keyboard.

,,Mhm, especially to bachelor of fine arts,’’ you told him.

He didn’t quite understand, but he still nodded.

,,I didn’t have to,’’ he mumbled.

,,That’s why it’s written on there. The little word ,,may’’ says that you possibly have to, but not always,’’ you told him, making him sulk.

,,I know what ,,may’’ means… ah, and tell me. What are the admission requirements?’’ he asked you.

You turned your head and looked at him.

,,Can you maybe read the whole post instead of just the keywords? You need to check on the page itself for the requirements. Every university does it differently,’’ you told him and closed the page.

,,Ah. I just wanted to test you,’’ he smiled and looked at you.

He looked so up to you. You always knew what the latest LOLOL update changed in the game. You were amazing...

Jaehee

,,What? You went to Harvard University?’’ Zen asked you. He didn’t know that he was in a group with such an intelligent person and you were even Jaehee’s girlfriend.

You nodded.

,,She’s also very creative. Did you see our advertisement? She did it herself. Pretty amazing, right?!’’ Jaehee said proudly, no one had ever seen her that excited.

You changed her.

You and Jaehee also often went to different festivals to check the latest innovations. It was something even Jaehee was interested in.

And thanks to you, she even understood a few things since you were very good at explaining things.

,,Should we buy this new keyboard? It fits much better than the one you have now in your studio,’’ she told you and admired the keyboard in front of you.

She looked up to you since you were such a hard worker as a owner of a coffee shop and even a designer of word advertisements and 2d animation.

Saeyoung

,,You make pretty good money, huh?’’ he asked you as he looked around.

Your studio just looked so aesthetically pleasing in the middle of Seoul.

You shrugged your shoulders as you kept typing something.

Then you took your pen between your fingers and began to draw something.

You were a storyboard artist.

Saeyoung, your finacé, loved to watch you.

He sometimes even helped you when a program stopped working.

,,Look, which one do you like more?’’ you asked him as you turned your screen towards him to show him a park.

,,Mh, I don’t know. What’s the story? LIke, this one looks cute as if you’re in a fairy tale, but this one looks more realistic,’’ he answered, making you turn the display again.

You nodded and stood up, taking your jacket and facing your fiancé. ,,We are going to the park now,’’ you said and pulled him by the hand.

That’s what he loved about you.

He, too, was someone who would simply do his work, but you wanted to give your best, even at  that moment.

At the end of the day, you however, knew which one you would decide on and you were happy that Saeyoung opened your eyes.

Saeran

,,Mc! It’s so nice to see you here!’’ someone said and hugged you.

Saeran observed the person who was so happy to see you.

Both of you were in a foreign country and people still knew you?

You hugged the person who was apparently named Mira.

,,Saeran, this was my teacher, Mira,’’ you said and told Mira about your boyfriend.

She was so happy to see that you got a boyfriend.

,,Have fun here and go visit Josef! He will be happy to see you!’’ she said, meaning your other teacher.

You took Saeran and with him you walked through every department.

,,They try to motivate you to be creative, get started, start your own company, make your own shows, produce medical videos or animations, and they want you to learn things by doing,’’ you explained.

At some point, you arrived at a place that was lit by lights. Students had pencils in their hands and they began to draw something on their papers. This was something that amazed Saeran.

,,I thought it’s digital art,’’ he whispered.

You nodded. ,,They first try to make you get used to it. When you’re ready, you can move to the digital version,’’ you told him and observed the students.

It was a pretty good day and Saeran also enjoyed seeing you presentate something on a stage about your own work in South Korea.

He was proud of you.

Jihyun

Hand in hand, both of you walked into an institute to talk about digital art.

Jihyun also liked art a lot. However, he was a painter.

But your art was also something beautiful in his eyes.

He once tried it, but failed.

,,I remember back then, I also was unsure if digital art was real art, but after I saw it myself… I’m sorry I was like that back then… so don’t give up if people are the same here as in this art institute,’’ he told you.

You nodded.

Your goal was it to teach digital art in that institute and they first invited you to talk about it.

They first invited you in and then they were ready to listen to you.

,,Thank you for your words,’’ the older man said and nodded.

,,However, digital art is, itself, placed under the larger umbrella term new media art that doesn’t require any effort, Mrs. Kim. Digital art is not considered real art,’’ he said and closed his book with the notes.

,,Why did you invite my wife then?’’ Jihyun asked as you watched your dreams get crushed in front of your eyes.

No one dared to say anything. Were you just the laugh stock? Why did you even make the effort? You were ready to give up when Jihyun began to say something again. ,,I can understand you. At first we thought that digital art was easy. Why should we ask a teacher to teach us? I’m an artist myself and I thought like that too, but here too, just like the art with real pens and colors, you need to start with it gradually. I experienced it myself and I was surprised by how difficult it was. I beg you, try at least once to draw a forest in digital art,’’ Jihyun said, begging the person in front of him.

,,Very well, I have been an artist since my twenties and I am now sixty years old,’’ he laughed and took your tablet, ready to draw.

While he was drawing, you did the same on the second tablet and a bit later you all noticed the difference, making them all apologize to you.

,,I can’t thank you enough,’’ you sobbed as both of you walked out of the room, you overjoyed about the good news.

,,I told you not to give up on them. They were just like me,’’ he laughed and kissed your hand before you could both go and pick up Lucy at Jumin’s penthouse.

Vanderwood

When he first saw your room, not Rika’s, but your own home, he was kind of shocked to know that you were almost like Agent 707.

He quickly noticed that just like him, you loved your profession.

It was something that satisfied you immediately ever since you first learned how things worked.

Indeed, animation was attracting more and more people and you were one of them.

,,Back then, when we lived in Japan, we somehow won a sightseeing trip and I got to see the Ghibli studio. I think that that was the moment I fell in love with it,’’ you told him as he looked around.

,,And then? I mean, Japan is one of the best countries to study animation, right?’’ he asked you. Vanderwood was truly interested in it.

He wanted to know everything about you.

The brown haired man wanted to know what made your eyes shine so brightly and why you were so in love with your job.

,,Uhm, yeah. Spain is the best country to study animation, but I also expected it to be Japan. Back then and still today, living there was too expensive. My parents wanted to move back to Korea and so I went to Spain to study my dream,’’ you laughed.

,,I’m amazed. I expected you to go with your parents,’’ he laughed and observed you.

,,I was amazed by myself too, you know? It was a hard decision, but I never regretted what I did. I could fulfil my dream and it’s my life after all.

And knowing more languages is even better because there are so many more opportunities,’’ you laughed.

,,Please never lock the door in other languages like Agent 707,’’

You laughed at his comment. ,,I won’t… but maybe something animated?’’ you teased him.

MASTERLIST 1

MASTERLIST 2

MASTERLIST 3

17.04.2021// 00:18 MEST

selfie | jjk | 2

pairing(s): jungkook x reader

summary: Is this a rom-com, slice-of-life drama with unsolicited social commentary about gender stereotypes, idol music, and the meaningless meaning of the word, “adult”? Yes. But also, Jeon Jungkook shouldn’t be in love with his hyung’s little sister and he is. Shit.

warnings: rated M (18+) for language; mentions of depression, anxiety, loneliness; fluff, but also frustrating because flirt already, sheesh; loons-to-lovers; non-idol!AU - oppa’s bestfriend!Jungkook x SHINee fangirl!reader

happy lunar new year!! year of the ox - jk’s lucky year <3

–

previous episode.

2. in which the two loons getting somewhere, only for more misunderstandings to happen.

Is this too much?

You stared at the picture and the message. Jeon Jungkook once again. Sending a picture of himself at the gym. It was a while since the last one, so his hair was slightly longer now. Was he growing it out? Oh well, none of your business. You sent your usual reply.

?

You sighed and went back to your journal, only to have your phone aggressively sing ‘3 PM’ from the Animal Crossing New Leaf OST. Directly asking for a video call this time. You thinned your mouth into a line and closed your journal, sliding it out of frame before accepting the call.

Jungkook’s big brown eye filled up the screen, directly on the camera.

“Why don’t you respond like a normal person?”

“Why don’t you start conversations off like a normal person?” you shot back, placing a hand on your cheek and leaning against it. There was stationery scattered all around you, but your journal was behind the charging stand.

Jungkook withdrew his eyeball, frowning. You could see his entire face now, his long black hair tied up into a silly sprout on top of his head. He was still wearing the dark gray sweatshirt from the photo, but he seemed to be in his apartment. All you could see was the wall.

“What about the pic though? Is it too much?”

“Too much what?” you responded irritably.

He waved his hand, shaking the phone with his movement. “You know… Too, ‘Hey I work out and am attractive, pay attention to me’ much?”

You raised an eyebrow. “You’re not even looking at the camera. Or wearing a sleeveless shirt.”

He blinked at you. “Should I?”

You rolled your eyes. “No, those are things not to do. Picture is fine,” you added, shifting some pens away so you could rest your head on your forearms.

“Oh.”

He looked uneasy for a second before the camera jostled around as he scurried to a different part of the room. You puffed your cheeks and closed your eyes, not wanting to get motion sick.

“I’ve been playing Persona 5!” Jungkook said cheerfully, making you open your eyes to see him directing the camera at his television where the Persona music was merrily playing. “Just finished Sakura Futaba’s Palace.” He switched the camera back as you smiled and gave him a thumbs up.

“Nice.”

Jungkook seemed to spy your deflated form on your desk.

“What’s wrong?”

You breathed out. “Nothing.”

He frowned. “Doesn’t seem like nothing.”

You shrugged. “Just thinking.” Your eyes flickered to him, smirking a little. “You wouldn’t know about that, I suspect.”

Jungkook rolled his eyes. Other than that, he didn’t react to your remark.

“Thinking about what?” he asked, leaning back into his gray couch. His long hair flared out, sprout blooming against the cushions.

Your eyes shifted to the pens all over your desk. To your tablet, where you had been practicing digital drawing for a little while now. Just little drawings of cute animals, no people yet. To your journal, where you had been writing your diary entry.

“Lonely.”

You said the word without thinking. It was the title of your diary entry. You hadn’t meant to say it, but it was the only thing on your mind right now. Your eyes flickered back to Jungkook, who was watching you carefully. You sighed, feeling the need to explain yourself.

“All my friends are busy with school and their jobs. Oppa is always at work or with his girlfriend. Parents are always working.”

You could feel the distance between you and your high school friends. They were chasing your dreams and you were chasing nothing at all. You weren’t distant from your brother, but you were respectful of how much time he wanted to spend with his girlfriend. She might become his future wife someday, after all. Would you have a future husband one day? You wondered what he would be like.

You shook your head and shrugged. “But I did it to myself by taking a gap year, so it can’t be helped.”

“It’s okay to feel lonely.”

Slowly, your gaze shifted back to Jungkook. He was getting up from the couch, holding the phone up as he walked to what looked like the kitchen.

“I mean, you can’t help what you feel, right?” he said as he set the phone in a cupboard and went to the fridge. “Feeling lonely isn’t some kind of crime, so you don’t need to lock it away or anything.”

Jungkook picked up a take-out container and opened it, stiffing the contents. He seemed to be debating if it was edible or not. How long had that been there? You wanted to ask but then again, you didn’t want to know. Jungkook shrugged and dumped the mysterious contents into a bowl.

“I’ll talk to you whenever you want.”

You scoffed. “Why would you do that?”

Jungkook placed the bowl in the microwave and set the timer. The machine hummed as he turned around.

“To prevent you from feeling lonely.”

A butterfly danced in your chest.

You chuckled. “Why would I want to feel annoyed instead of lonely?”

Jungkook shrugged, taking out some chopsticks. “At least you have someone to be annoyed at instead of being alone?”

Two butterflies danced in your chest.

You huffed and rested your cheek on your forearms.

“Have you been talking to your Confidants?”

“What?”

“In Persona 5.”

“Who?”

You slapped your forehead. “Listen up, you monkey…”

“I’m an ox in the zodiac.”

“I mean your monkey gameplay…”

You began to explain the importance of Confidants in Persona to Jungkook.

-

That’s how you ended up in video calls with Jeon Jungkook several times a week.

He would usually start the call by sending a selfie, to which you would respond with your usual question mark. He was going to university for graphic design and worked at an electronics store part time. You, on the hand, were doing nothing. Well, not nothing, because you were clumsily learning digital art, but unless you were showering, you were always by your phone. Checking idol social media, especially SHINee. Sometimes your brother and his girlfriend asked you to accompany them to dinner, but you always declined, because being the third wheel was weird.

Also, watching your brother in love was weird.

Bleh.

“They always make out in front of me,” you were telling Jungkook as he asked why you weren’t at dinner earlier with your brother and his friends. Your brother had taken his girlfriend, of course. “It’s weird.”

Jungkook winced. “Yeah, I get what you mean. But I was there.”

“So what?”

Jungkook raised his hands. He was in his bed, rolling around in gray sheets. “Maybe you care?”

“I’d like to be spared watching oppa’s PDA, thanks.”

As usual, you were at your desk. This time your tablet was in front of you. You pushed the pen around, indecisively drawing lines and undoing your last action, twisting your mouth to one side, not really looking at Jungkook. He wasn’t doing anything of note, anyway.

“You don’t like PDA?”

You shrugged. “It’s whatever. I don’t really care.”

“What are you drawing?”

“Nothing good,” you sighed, putting down the tablet pen. The little cat character looked back at you, its expression the same bored and dispassionate face you usually had. You hadn’t really decided on a color for it yet. Maybe gray. That’s how you usually felt, anyway. You knew the collar color was going to be aqua though. A nod to your SHINee obsession.

“Show me.”

“No.”

“Come on.”

You looked up to Jungkook’s smile. There was a radiance about it. You felt the two butterflies dancing in your ribcage once again, fluttering, fluttering. His two front teeth where just ever so slightly too large for his mouth. It was endearing, like seeing a bunny. You looked back down at the little cat you created. Maybe you would make a bunny for Jungkook.

Pfft.

Why would you do that?

You laughed, confusing Jungkook as you placed your hand over your mouth, eyes squinting as you chortled to yourself, trying to imagine Jungkook as a silly little bunny. Probably one that worked out too much and drank banana milk every day. Probably loved to take selfies too. A cool bunny who wrote sunglasses sometimes and was probably altruistic and interesting.

Not like you.

Your laughter died down, eyes on the cat. You picked a cat to represent you because it was lazy and didn’t do much. Spent all day sleeping and staring outside, but never actually trying. Curious about things, but never committing.

“What’s so funny?” Jungkook asked, lifting the camera and holding it above him. You saw his long black hair flare out around his head. He was casually handsome, the kind of attractive that didn’t need much to be that way.

That’s weird. Why would you think something like that?

“Your face,” you replied, missing the usual bite you usually had behind your words. “You need a trim.”

He raised his eyebrow, pursing his lips. “You don’t like long hair?”

You pointed at the phone even though he probably couldn’t tell what you were pointing at. “The ends of your hair are splitting. It’s not going to grow well at this rate.”

“Are you a secret barber or something?”

“I’m a human being who cuts her own hair,” you replied impassively, sitting back in your chair.

Jungkook looked surprised. “Really? Since when?”

“Since the last time oppa attempted to cut my hair in high school.” You cringed at the memory.

Jungkook looked apologetic and ready to burst out laughing at the same time. “He tried his best.”

“He did not,” you retorted, remembering the botched bangs and blunt shoulder length cut. It was horrible. You went to the salon afterward and had it trimmed into a short pixie cut, because you would rather be bald than look like an overgrown coconut.

“The pixie cut was cool though.”

“Eh.” You shrugged. “Too hard to cut it by myself. Need some length to hide my mistakes.”

“Your hair always looks nice though. A little messy.”

You touched the top of your head self-consciously. Maybe you should start brushing it before accepting his calls. You didn’t really brush it that often because, well, who was going to see you? You basically only brushed it when you noticed a tangle.

Jungkook was smiling at you. His dark brown eyes seemed sparkly because of the overhead lights in his bedroom. The butterflies in your ribcage circled each other, looping round and round. You made a disgruntled face, reaching up read the current time at the top of your phone.

“Don’t you have class early tomorrow? Go to sleep.”

And then you pressed the end call button.

For some reason, relief and disappointment washed over you. Relief because there was a palpitating anxiousness you felt when you looked too directly into Jungkook’s eyes. Disappointment because maybe you shouldn’t have hung up so abruptly. That was a little rude.

You noticed you had a text. From Jeon Jungkook.

Good night.

-

Jungkook placed his phone beside him after he sent the text. He thought about sending a selfie too, but maybe that was too much. She had just seen him seconds before, anyway.

Why had she hung up like that?

He smiled as he remembered her laugh. He liked her laugh a lot. She hid it behind her hands and her eyes always squinted when she did so, nearly making them disappear. It looked a little bit like a cat when it was purring in satisfaction. Jungkook wondered what made her laugh like that. It must have been a thought, because he could see her face changing as she observed him. When she stopped laughing, her face was different too, becoming introspective.

She looked pretty today too.

Her hair a little messy, combed through with her fingers. That’s how it looked best, he thought. She had a natural prettiness, the kind that needed no help to be that way. Every action she did seemed cute, from the way she held her pen, to the way she twisted her mouth to one side when she was working on something, to the way she touched the top of her head, lips parting in thought.

If she wanted to be a model, she probably could.

At least, Jungkook wanted to take her picture.

He frowned a little. He’d been consistently sending her selfies before calling her and she always responded with a question mark. Maybe she wasn’t used to taking selfies? Or maybe, and what was more likely, she probably didn’t even care about them.

Jungkook exhaled, flopping to his side. Should he give up? But then he remembered her face right before she looked at the time. It was like she was staring at the screen, at his face. And for a split second, he swore he saw her upper lip upturn a bit, shyness in her gaze, a bit of pink flushing her cheeks. Was it just the lightning or something? His mind playing tricks on him?

“Bleh.”

Jungkook made a weird noise and plopped his face into his pillow.

-

Jungkook stopped calling you.

You wondered why. You had been kind of rude to him last time. Maybe he was mad at you? Maybe he wanted an apology? But you weren’t really sure what to apologize for. And it was weird to call without a purpose, right? And besides.

You didn’t really need to apologize to Jeon Jungkook.

He wasn’t even really your friend. He was your older brother’s friend.

You chewed on your lip, staring at the last picture he sent you. He wasn’t your friend. He was… well, what was he trying to do? Why was he talking to you? Maybe he was bored. Maybe he was nosy. You did say you followed his art Instagram, so maybe he was enthralled with the idea of knowing he had a fan or something?

But you weren’t a fan, per se.

Well, a little bit. He was really talented.

But not that much!

Because Jeon Jungkook was kind of annoying. He still hadn’t returned Persona 5 to your brother. Not that your older brother noticed, at all. He never finished Persona 5 and it was mostly your game now, with how many hours you had sunk into it. Jungkook hadn’t even known about Confidants until you told him. Hmph. Didn’t he look up game guides? Well, he should. Confidants were really important to the game. They helped you with useful abilities during boss fights by developing relationships with the other characters.

You stared at the last selfie Jungkook had sent you.

You kind of wished he was looking at the camera.

Maybe you needed a Confidant. You certainly didn’t really know how to develop relationships with anyone, except maybe your older brother. But that was because he was your brother and familial responsibility. Well. Not true. Your brother was really nice to you.

That’s why you folded his underwear for him, even to this day.

Sigh.

Jungkook did like SHINee though.

At least that was one thing in common, right?

-

next episode: 3. in which only a major event can bring these two loons back together – SHINee is back!

--

masterpost

[Fanfic] Always You (Victor)

On Monday, it’ll be a month since I started my self-isolation (a day before the State of Alarm was declared in my country) so, after very stressing weeks teleworking and learning how to do and master things against the clock, I had an idea for a short fluffy thing to indulge myself. I ended up, as I said in my previous post, writing a long angst-filled story (romantic, yes, but angsty). But, I’m not going to argue with my Muse. Maybe next time...

Title: Always You

Genre: Angsty Romance

Words: 2249

Notes: I’m still on Episode 12 of the game, so I’m not sure if what I described can be canon or not, but please, be lenient with me ^^U Also, it might be SPOILERISH? regarding MC and the plot (I don’t really know, but I prefer to say it beforehand). And, since English is not my mother tongue, if you spot any mistakes, please, tell me.

I hope you like it :) And I really wish that you and your loved ones are safe and sound during this difficult time.

.

ALWAYS YOU

Her body was light as she floated in a timeless world of blues and misty whites, the breeze caressing her cheeks and playing with her hair. The hem of her long dress danced around her ankles as she moved her legs, one in front of the other, jumping around like a curious little fawn discovering the forest for the first time. Everything around her was placid and silent, and for a moment, she felt like she could stay there forever, her mind and soul at peace. However, there was something missing in her heart, an empty ache replacing whatever warmth should be there. And, closing her eyes, she wished she could fill it.

The fluffy clouds felt amazing beneath her feet when she landed on them, like walking on a sea of feathers. She was surrounded by cotton-like mountains of all shapes and heights, and she watched in awe as they shifted and changed with the slightest gust of wind. It was stronger there and she had to grab her skirt to avoid it coiling around her knees a few times.

The young woman inhaled deeply, the fresh smell of rain filling her lungs and making her feeling more alive than ever. She moved about the figures, looking around and behind them, observing their colours, in all shades of grey and white until she realised that the wind was pushing the clouds towards a city in the distance, its skyline so familiar that it brought a warm sensation to her chest. It was home. She kept on walking, brushing the mist with her fingers and feeling the water particles leave their dampness on her skin. It was a pleasant sensation, relaxing and also, exciting, as her skin tingled with delight. She did not feel cold despite wearing light clothes and being barefoot, but she barely paid attention to it.  It had been long since she had stopped wondering about her dreams, and had learnt to enjoy the pleasant ones and pay attention to the most enigmatic.

The rumble of thunder was heard and she looked down curiously, feeling the vibration on the soles of her feet. Below her, she could see the ocean of buildings that made Loveland City, some so high that their top tore the clouds, appearing and disappearing as the fog healed the wound a moment later. The spire of a skyscraper emerged just a few centimetres from her and she jumped back, startled. Bringing a hand to her chest, sighing in relief, she decided to find another place to rest for a while, far from the most modern part of the city. After wandering for a while, she finally stopped when she arrived at a specially thick part of the cloudy landscape that surrounded her. She sat down, experiencing a sensation similar to when she rested on the soft carpet of the living room, and looked ahead. In the space between two clouds that were shaped akin to whipped cream decorations on a dish, she could see the green extension of Brocade Park, the largest green area in the place where she lived. She watched the luscious verdant extension as the clouds lazily glided over it. The park was deserted, being the rain its only visitor, and she lied down on her stomach, feeling her whole body relax while watching her favourite place in the city, her spirit regaining some of its calmness.

As her lids started to drop, some movement and a flash of colour picked up her interest. A lonely black umbrella moved slowly along the white wooden bridge on the lake that led to a small pavilion, and she wondered why its hidden owner had decided to venture out in such unpleasant weather. The person under the umbrella stopped, looking at the water, and then, lifted their head. Even though she could not see their face clearly from her high position, she felt her heart skip a beat as if that glance had pierced her soul, and she felt compelled to them. As if answering her wishes, the clouds opened slowly under her and she descended until her feet touched the floor just behind the figure. It was a man, tall and well-dressed, and a small smile spread across her lips as she recognised his unmistakable silhouette. She extended her hand and touched his arm, her mouth already forming his name.

Instead of the slightly rough texture of the cloth of the coat, made of the finest wool, she had expected, her fingers curled around the soft silk the bed sheets were made of. With a barely audible sigh, the young woman opened her eyes slowly, the fog of dreams that still clouded her mind beginning to fade. She was on her side, nestled warmly under the eiderdown duvet which covered the bed, one hand under her chin, the other under the pillow, pinching the case with her index and thumb, bringing her loose fragments of a pleasant dream that, however, had left her troubled inside.

She closed her lids once more trying to picture the man of her dream. She knew him, she was sure of it, but no matter how much she tried, his features were unclear. And that fact unnerved her. She had been deceived more than once and that uneasiness in her chest was planting the seed of doubt in her mind. What if that was not who she thought, and her dream was a warning... She would need to take her time to reflect and decipher it.

She opened her eyes again, this time wider, only to realise that the lamp on the bedside table opposite her was turned on. She lifted her head a bit and her eyes set on the figure next to her. Her husband was sitting on the bed, his back leaning on his pillow against the headboard, covered by the duvet up to his chest. He was wearing his glasses and his eyes stared at the graphics on his tablet, making notes on a few papers on his lap with his fountain pen from time to time. His hair was a little dishevelled, falling over his forehead.

She liked to watch him secretly in those intimate moments at home because they allowed her to glimpse at a hidden side of Victor that he only let out when his guard was low, like when he sang French love songs under his breath when he was cooking, the little smile that adorned his face as he enjoyed his cup of coffee while reading a book, sitting on his favourite armchair, or when he slept peacefully beside her, his skin always brushing even the smallest part of hers, needing the reassurance of her presence next to him. As if he was afraid of losing her if he did not touch her the slightest. Probably, he was not aware of those little things, and that was what made them all the more precious for her.

He side glanced at her briefly and found her eyes on him.

“Did I wake you up?” he murmured.

His wife shook her head slightly, a small smile appearing on her lips.

“You should go back to sleep, then. It's still dark outside.”

A small shiver ran down her back, remembering her dream. There was a chance that she would be able to find the identity of the mysterious man if she closed her eyes again, but something inside her told her not to do it. From what she recalled, her instinct told her she knew and trusted that man but her heart was still hammering in her chest uncomfortably as if a part of her doubted it.

“What are you doing? Working?” she answered him with a question of her own, lifting herself on one elbow and sliding over to him. Victor frowned a bit but did not say anything about her behaviour.

“Yes. I need some data for a meeting on Monday afternoon.”

She hummed her answer and leant closer to him, feeling his warmth starting to comfort her. How typical of her husband, wanting to have everything under control way before any event... The weekend had just started.

“Can I stay with you?”

Victor observed his wife with a slight frown. If there was something she loved as much as food and him, that was her sleep. Also, the fact that she avoided looking at him in the eye, told him that something was wrong with her.

“Did something happen?”

She startled a bit and then, shook her head, her sight still fixed on his handwriting.

“No, why?”

He left the tablet beside him on the duvet and turned his full attention to her.

“Because I know you.”

The young woman ducked her head a bit, biting her lower lip slightly in an unconscious nervous gesture. Victor sighed softly and put the cap on his fountain pen, leaving it, the device and the papers on the bedside table. He, then, lifted his arm and held her by the shoulders, coaxing her gently to lean into him. She made herself comfortable, resting her head on his shoulder.

“Did you dream something unsettling?”

“Not really…” she replied after a short pause, playing with the lapel of his jacket.

“Are you sure...?” her fingers stilled on his chest and after a few more seconds of silence, he continued. “Can I do something?”

She shook her head once again.

“No, it's just... I think my imagination is playing with me” she brushed her cheek against the fabric of his pyjamas. “It was a pleasant dream but upon waking up I felt... troubled...”

“Do you want to tell me about it?”

She lifted her head to look at him. He was completely focused on her, his mauve pupils full of concern and, though she had decided to keep it to herself and take her time pondering over it, she nodded and began to speak. He listened to every word carefully, taking in her expression and each single of her gestures.

“I know deep inside that…” she stopped and started again. “I was convinced that it was you, but...”

He waited patiently for her to continue, but she did not.

“But? Is there something else?” he asked sensing her restlessness in her silence.

“Nothing, really, it ended there… Yet, what if it's a warning?” a delicate frown marred her features and she clenched her jaw. “ What if someone tries to get to us again? What if you...”

He cupped her cheek with his other hand and kissed her forehead, trying to reassure her.

“Nothing will happen…” he whispered, caressing her skin with his thumb.

“But-”

He brushed her lips with his softly, cutting off her words, pressing more firmly when she whispered his name in protest until he felt her response. He kissed her slowly, gently, to let her know that he was there and that there was nothing to be scared of. Little by little, she relaxed in his arms, her fingers circling his waist to bring him closer to her, seeking not only his physical warmth but also, the comfort that his nearness gave her in those vulnerable moments.

Victor deepened the kiss when she opened her mouth under his, holding her firmly until he felt her pressed tightly against him, her grasp on his back as desperate as his. Many times he had had the same fears as her, that after so many difficulties and so much suffering, the nightmare returned, she vanished from his side and he could never find her, even searching until his last breath. Sometimes, he woke up in the middle of the night and his only comfort was finding her curled up next to him. He, then, brushed the back of her hand with a fingertip, or his toes against her foot, with great care of not disturbing her, to calm his thundering heart and being able to rest again. And even though they had promised once not to have secrets between them, that was something he could not tell her. It would only make her upset and increase her worry, and he could not allow that to happen. Way before that vow, he had made one to himself to protect her happiness at all costs, and that had been his top priority since life had reunited them again.

Gradually, the anxiety hidden in their kisses, in their embrace, disappeared, giving way to loving touches and wandering lips brushing her closed lids, her temple, his slightly rough jaw with just the faintest shade of stubble, his brow.

“Everything’s going to be fine” he murmured leaving another gentle kiss on his wife’s lips.

With her cheeks still red as apples, she cupped his face, gazing deeply into his eyes.

“I don't want to lose you.”

“You'll never lose me” his voice was firm as he returned her glance, full of determination. “In your dream, I'm sure that you found me, waiting for you to come back.

Her features softened and she smiled lightly, He, then, kissed the top of her head and embraced her tightly, sliding both of them down further under the covers.

“It's still early. Go back to sleep. I'll guard your dreams and keep you safe.”

“But...” she seemed hesitant as she looked at him. “What about your work?”

He chuckled softly, his eyes, filled with affection, finding hers, as his hand turned the switch of his lamp off, leaving the room in total darkness.

“It can wait until later.”

THE END

Grindin

A/N: EEEPP. This is my first attempt at a reader insert. Reader is always gonna be black. I missed a many of days. Here is the day 3 prompt because I liked this idea! Kind of based off my favorite coffee shop. Maybe I’ll do more for this lil story? 💁🏿 The chime for the door is literally from this song here. 

Summary: Reader goes back home to open a coffee shop and meets a man that stirs some things in her. 

“I love the concept,” you commented, “ I know we were only interested in black and blue originally. But can you do a mock up with gold lettering as well?”

“YAS! THAT! I like THAT! exclaimed Ray

“Already done,” Lulu noted and pulled out a secondary growler mock up from behind the print that you were assessing.

“You know me so well,” you smiled.

“Yeah, your ass is kinda predictable” she smiled back which earned her a tongue out.

This was your first meeting of the month and so far everything was going great. You loved that you could live out your dreams with the two people you trusted more than anyone in the world. Lulu had been by your side since you both realized you were the only two Spelman freshmen who were both from Cali in your class.  By your second semester y’all were so inseparable that everyone thought you were sisters. And by year 2 you were already living together. Thank God y’all had separate interests which kept your friendship and now your business in a healthy and ever growing state. You were engrossed in the world of science. You had been a bio major who often volunteered at the local greenhouse. That helped you establish your small but busy coffee shop a year and a half ago. Lulu was a graphic artist whom also was in charge of all Grindin social media and the unofficial pastry taste tester. Ray had come along when the ladies were rooming together off campus. He was a community college to 4- year transplant at Clark Atlanta but the boy was born and raised in Macon, Georgia and he’d never let you forget it. It was evident that once he met the girls at a mixer in his first week, the friendship was a wrap. That spawned regular visits back to his parents’ homes on the weekends and even some holidays spent in the south. After graduation, the bond never broke. You and Lulu returned to Cali with Ray in tow so that he could use his business degree to help birth Grindin.

You glanced over to Sherell. The Brewista Lead for the morning shift. You knew that Sherell had been strugglin to keep up a healthy sleeping schedule with finals right around the corner and the nerves of her impending graduation from Lincoln. She was a sweet girl and you couldn’t stand to see her bare any more stress. You were so caught up in your thoughts about Sherell that you had missed the very clear topic change amongst your friends.

“Okay, but that nigga’s arms? They biggg. You know what that mean!” sad Ray pointedly at Lulu

“HA” she cackled, “ that don’t mean nothin’. My guy has really soft eyes and you know Y/N loves a guy who is easy on the eyes,” Lu quips

“Bitch, you see the caterpillar above those eyes? We don’t nee her birthin the next Helga Pataki in these streets”

“Ugh” you groaned as you rubbed your temple. “I don’t know how many times we have to have to do this but I do not under any circumstances want you two meddling in my love life,”

“But” they chorused.

“BUT NOTHING! Every human with an assumed penis and who looks like they got more than $150 in the bank becomes a contestant for your little game of ‘Win a Date with Y/N’! I run a coffee shop! Not a dating service. I’m done explaining shit to y’all. Stop harassing my customers and let my ass worry about who I am with! I mean that shit.”

“I told you we should have started addin females to the list,” whispers Ray as you walk over to the counter.

“Raymond Johnson the IV and Eyeluta Nicole Hathaway, if I hear one more word from either of y’all you both gone be banned from any pastries for the rest  of the month” you spat feeling like the unofficial mother of your group yet again. You took a deep breath and continued toward the counter. 

“Sherell, how’s it going?” you asked a you approached the register.

She sighed heavily.

“You know what? You need a break. Go in the back and relax your eyes a bit. I’ll man the front”

“Oh no. It’s really-“

You cut her off. “Get back there and relax a little. I think I know how to run a register,” you winked.

You were on the register and Antwon was pouring at the bar. You two were in a good rhythm. It was either bustling or there was one customer to tend to today. There didn’t seem to be any in between this morning. 

GRINDIN rang out as the next patron entered.

“Welcome!” Antwon called out as you were assessing the stock supply up in the floor.

When you turned around you were met with... Well, you weren’t quite sure how to describe him. Fine was an understatement. Standing six feet tall was a milk chocolate wonder with a physique that his dark turtleneck and three piece suit couldn’t hide.

Keep it professional y/n

Before you could even get a breath out he growled “Y’all really got Clipse playin every time the damn door open?” He said this with his eyes glued to his screen as if looking up was such a difficult feat to conquer at 7:32 a.m.

“Yeah. It’s a signature touch,” you responded to the stranger. At your voice, he looked up and offered a smirk that probably made most women collapse at first sight. You still hadn’t made up your mind though.

“I’m feelin it.”

“Is this your first time here? I’m more than welcome to answer any questions you have about the menu or the store in general” you offered.

“Nah. I’ve been in a time or two before. Never seen you before,” he very openly eyed you up and down, “I normally let my assistant handle this shit though, you know Miss… “

“Y/N. Well, since you’ve been here before then you’re familiar with our unique take on the menu.” you supplied.

“Yeah, y’all rotate teas and coffees quarterly. You seem to keep a few staples- which I ‘preciate and y’all got some corny ass names for these drinks too.”

You bristled a bit at that last part. “There’s nothing wrong with a little creativity.”

“Never said there was, Y/N” At this point you couldn’t tell if you wanted to serve this man or show him the door. You chose the professional route.

“So, what does your assistant normally bring you Mr…?” you trailed off

“Just Erik is fine. My favorite is the single origin. Black.  It’s always the best way to start my day.”

“Mine too.” you smiled. Maybe he isn’t so bad after all

“If you’re into the single origin and you love that bold, black, taste something similar with just a little more sweetness is Brew Thang.”

He chuckled. “See what I be saying about these names? How you expect a grown ass man to order a drink called ‘Brew Thang’?”

“It’s good. Once you have a taste, you won’t have a hard time getting it to roll of your tongue.” you sassed.

Oh fuck . I didn’t mean it like that. I gotta keep this professional. I don’t need a bad review from this guy.

He raised an eyebrow at you. “Oh really? Then lemme get a taste,” he said licking his lips. Your eyes widened slightly but he caught it. 

“Size?” you asked looking down at the tablet screen. 

“Large” he said with a bld and dark stare, “How much I owe you?”

“This one will be on the house. I want to make sure you’re satisfied.”

OH MY GAWD GIRL? WHO ARE YOU? WHAT IS COMING OUT OF YOUR MOUTH. PLEASE LEAD WITH YOUR HEAD AND LESS OF THE PUSSY

“Antwon, let’s switch. I’ll take the bar. You take the register!” You yelled out and quckly you two transitioned so that he could help the growing line of customer and you could bang out the drinks. Erik followed as you moved to the bar where he watched you work your magic. Once you were done pouring his drink you gave it to him. You got started not the next orders not the board but made sure to keep an eye on him as he took the first sip.  

“Fuck ma. This shit good” It was your turn to smirk. 

“That’s what I was trying to tell you. So now you’re hooked on the Brew Thang?”

“Oh yeah, I’m definitely satisfied.” You failed to hide your giggle as you called out that Ricky’s order was ready. Erik stuck around for a little after that inquiring about other menu items that you told him not be too quick to judge based on their names. The initial tension had dissolved and you two were in a comfortable rhythm of commenting on both the menu and the changes you’d seen in Oakland during the last few years. Thankfully there wasn’t a rush at the moment and it was fine for your to be off to the side of the bar answering any questions he could put forth. He was attentive to your passion regarding the menu and all that went into the shop as a whole.

“Hol up. You ain’t a barista. This is yo shit?”

“I prefer Brewista and yes. I do co-own this shop with my best friend Ray and we have a great Graphic Artist, Lulu, on deck too” The more he learned about you. The more he wanted to know.

“Okay Miss Entrepreneur. I see you. Damn, does that mean that you tha one that come up with these corny ass names then?”

You scowled playfully. “You keep talkin on my name and you gone catch these hands. I’m a professional. But I grew up on these streets. I can throw blows Erik,”

“My bad baby girl. I respect your grind.”

“Okay. So who really is the corny one here?”

“Whatever,” he smiled. A genuine smile with teeth and this made you want to melt right there. “Anyways, speaking of Brew Thangs, you got  a ni-“

His phone rang and he glanced down cursing. He put up his index finger and gestured that he just need one moment. You nodded your consent.

“What up T?”

In that time that he took his call, you looked up and saw that you had a line out the door. Sherrell came back out to the floor and your two were in a great rhythm getting through the 16 drink orders that had come up. When you looked up again, Erik was no where to be found. Now that the shop was stable you let Sherell do her thang and went into the back to re-convene with Lu & Ray.

“Y/N we need to get you an award for best employer. You really be out here goin the extra mile for your staff,” Lu said. You lifted the corner of your mouth in a weak attempt at a smile.

“Uh uh. Hoe what’s wrong?” Ray said noting your dejected spirt.

“Now? Now you listen to me?!” you yelled. “ALLL the time, I tell yo asses not to intervene in my love life and the one time it may have actually been beneficial y’all were no where to be seen!”

“I know she didn’t” Ray said.

“Yeah. She did” Lu, retorted. “I’m gonna ignore your funky attitude because I can see you’re going through something sis. What’s the deal?”

“I was talking to this guy. This man. And y’all he was so charming and sexy as hell and he wasn’t afraid to talk about shit that matters and I just turned away to make some drinks and he disappeared! I really thought he was gonna make a move. Or at the very least that you two would move in on him and make me sit through another awkward date. But nooooooo, you two finally decided to respect my wishes for once and now Imma die alone!” you monologued.

“You done?” Lu asked.

“Yes” you pouted.

“Aww come here baby,” Ray said with his arms outstretched, “I’m sure he’ll be back.” He hugged your frame tightly and rubbed some circles into your back. “Especially if you turned around when you were in front of him, cuz BABY GOT BACK!!” He yelled.

You and Lu laughed as he started smackin your ass and shakin his own. Soon enough you were all in the back twerkin like it was the first night y’all meet all over again. Hopefully he’d be back.

I’m sorry I forgot who to tag! Soooo if you got tagged and didn’t wanna be I’m sorry. The inverse is the same 😁

@twistedcharismaaa @raysunshine78

@ghostfacekill-monger @yoursoulstea 

@shewrites02 @sarcastic-sunshines

@thadelightfulone

Star Spangled Bingo 2020 masterpost

The @star-spangled-bingo​ for 2020 is complete! 

I was hoping to get a blackout, but a combination of being side-tracked by ATLA fandom and misreading the closing date made me just miss it - I’ll just have to ssav those ideas for the next round!. But I’m still impressed by the number of Cap fills I managed (although none Sam-centric this time).

Fill details and links are below the cut (all fills are gen/teen).

Sleeping Bucky Prompt: Rescue Mission Fill type: moodboard and drabble  Characters: Steve Rogers / Bucky Barnes  Tags: fairytale au, cryofreeze, amnesia  Summary: They say that true love’s kiss can break a curse. But love is too vast and complex an emotion to be encompassed by a single kiss.

Armed and Ready (Winter Soldier braid]  Prompt: Losing Control of Powers Fill type: fancraft and drabble Characters: Bucky Barnes Tags: tablet weaving, Bucky Barnes’ metal arm, Infinity War Summary: He looks at the open case; at the dark limb with its bright tracery. He should have known this was coming. He had known. 

Conduction Prompt: Cuddling Fill type: fanfic (970 words) Characters:  Bucky Barnes & Tony Stark Tags: touch-starved, Bucky Barnes needs a hug Summary: Conduction n, the transfer of heat energy via contact. It is a small thing that makes him notice. A simple clap on the shoulder, emphasis for whatever point he is making. But when he moves to take his hand away, Bucky follows, just for a moment, prolonging the contact.

Wounds Unhealing Prompt: Home Alone Fill type: poem (440 words) Characters: Steve Rogers Tags: canonical character death, grief/mourning, Steve Rogers has PTSD, Endgame Summary:  They say time heals all wounds. But how can he heal when every memory tears away the slow-forming scab?

How Many Times? Prompt: “Where’s the fight?” Fill type: moodboard and poem (160 words) Characters: Steve Rogers Tags: grief/mourning, Steve Rogers has PTSD, Captain America as a role, suicidal ideation - potential interpretation Summary: When Steve agreed to become Captain America, he pledged his life in service to his country. And he gave his life, crashing a plane full of bombs into icy water. But then he wakes. He wakes, and they ask for Captain America once more. Again and again... He never thought about what it might mean that his contract had no end date.

Fri on the Wall Prompt: Friday Fill type: Drabble sequence (600 word) Characters:  Friday, Bucky Barnes / Tony Stark Tags: mutual pining, supportive Friday, 5+1 things, dialogue-only Summary: Friday watches her idiot, pining boys. Or, five times Friday tried to support their relationship, and one time she decided to take more drastic measures.

Ice Bound - pt 1 Prompt: Soulmate AU Fill type: fanfic (620 words) Characters:  Steve Rogers / Bucky Barnes Tags: assumed character death, soulmate AU, cryofreeze, CA:TFA Summary: Steve and Bucky are Bonded. From the day they first meet they are inseparable – best friends and brothers – hardly a day goes past without the other’s company. People say they are lucky, finding each other so young, so close, never having to search and wonder; they say that it is a sign of the strength of their bond. They will need that strength

Workout Prompt: “I need a new set of lungs” Fill type: moodboard Characters: Tony Stark, Steve Rogers, Bucky Barnes Tags: animal AU, dog!Steve Rogers and dog!Bucky Barnes, human!Tony Stark Summary: If there were such a thing as supersoldiers in dog form, Bucky and Steve would be it. Tony loves them, but their energy will be the death of him someday.  

Trauma Bingo Prompt: PTSD Fill type: fanfic (1120 words) Characters:  Bucky Barnes & Avengers Team Tags: PTSD, therapy, crack, many traumatic topics touched on briefly and non-graphically - full list in AO3 tags Summary:  SHIELD remembers that trauma therapy exists, and their sights are set on the Avengers. Aka. How many issues can you fit in one team, and can you also get them all in the same person. Succeeding at trauma bingo is not actually winning…

Decorating Bucky’s Arm Prompt: Avengers Tower Fill type: moodboard/graphic Characters:  Bucky Barnes & Avengers Team Tags: Bucky Barnes’ metal arm, Avengers family, joke gifts Summary: “I’m noticing a trend with these gifts…”

Captain America braid Prompt: Free Space Fill type: fancraft Characters:  na Tags: tablet weaving, Captain America’s shield Summary: na

Visions of Xmas Past, Present, Future Prompt: Time Travel Fill type: moodboard and drabble Characters:  Bucky Barnes / Sam Wilson Tags: A Christmas Carol remix, blood, future relationship Summary: Christmas Eve in his shity little apartment in in Bucharest, a recovering Bucky Barnes is granted a gift: a reminder of how far he has come, and how much more he still has to gain.

Subject SS2 Prompt: Crying Themself to Sleep Fill type: fanfic (540 words) Characters: Steve Rogers Tags: Hydra, imprisonment, implied torture, implied medical experimentation, supersoldier serum, hurt no comfort Summary: Hydra has finally managed to achieve something they have been dreaming of since WWII: the capture of Captain America. But what to do with him? The science division calls dibs. After all, there's only so much you can learn from a historical sample size of one.

Cleaning up the Evidence Prompt: Giving the Kids a Bath Fill type: moodboard and drabble Characters:  Bucky Barnes / Tony Stark, Steve Rogers Tags: deaged!Steve Rogers, fluff, dialogue-only Summary: Tony discovers the unexpected pitfalls of an artistic toddler

Hunters and Haunted Prompt: Chance Encounter Fill type: moodboard (and pre-published drabble) Characters:  Bucky Barnes & Natasha Romanoff Tags: nightmares, blood, guns Summary: Not all monsters can be fought with guns and steel. But a friend to guard your back is always invaluable.

Preventative Measures Prompt: Losing a sense Fill type: moodboard/graphic Characters:  Bucky Barnes Tags: self-mutilation, ear trauma, blood, Winter Soldier trigger words, CA:CW Summary:  ‘Sticks and stones may break my bones...’ but words turn me into a mindless killing machine. So Bucky takes matters into his own hands.

Heat-sensitive SHIELDRA Mug - Buy Now! Prompt: Mistaken Identity Fill type: graphic Characters:  na Tags: Hydra, crack, merchandise Summary: Do you want to show off your loyalty to your organisation? Frustrated that undercover operation cramps your style? Worry no more!

BUCK-E’s Problem Prompt: No-One Believes Them Fill type: fanart and drabble Characters:  Bucky Barnes & Tony Stark Tags: DUM-E’s Drawings, Bucky Barnes’ metal arm, cats, mechanical repairs Summary: Hanging out in TON-E’s workshop, DUM-E collects the best stories. BUCK-E is not amused.

A Dead Man’s Face Prompt: “I thought you were smaller.” Fill type: fanfic (530 words) Characters:  Bucky Barnes & Steve Rogers Tags: Winter Soldier Bucky Barnes, partial amnesia, brainwashing, CA:TWS Summary: The Winter Soldier knows that he was once called Bucky Barnes, and had a childhood friend called Steve Rogers. The Winter Soldier knows that Captain America is his enemy and the enemy of everything Hydra stands for. The Winter Soldier now knows that Captain America is the type of man - monster - who would use the face of Bucky’s dead friend as a weapon against him. But he will not falter; he has a mission.

Collage Prompt: Mental Illness Fill type: fanfic (400 words) Characters:  Bucky Barnes & Steve Rogers Tags: PTSD, therapy, self-identity, Steve Rogers has issues, Bucky Barnes has issues but is dealing with them Summary: “You really think you don’t have anything you need to talk about? Because my therapist doesn’t just help with the Winter Soldier shit, y’know. I’m learning how to be a person again, and that means dealing with everything that makes me who I am. “In your case, there’s Captain-America-who-fights-aliens, Captain-Rogers-who-fights-Nazis, Steve-from-the-40s-who-fights-bullies, and Stevie-who-became-a-big-buff-supersoldier-to-hopefully-win-some-of-said-fights. And that’s just the obvious. No wonder you’re a mess.”

Art Resources

Check out this plethora of art-related resources archived from Comic Tea Party’s Art Resources Channel!

RebelVampire

starting this channel off with @Kabocha 's site http://www.shooting-stars.org/ lots of fantastic brushes and materials to use for both photoshop and clip studio(edited)

https://inkarnate.com/ - a nifty site for creating maps. while there is a pro version, the free version still has a lot of features if you just need a map for personal use to reference for your stories.(edited)

https://bodykunposeoftheday.tumblr.com/ - lots of pose photos of the SH Figuarts Body-Kun figures. really great if you want to get some anatomy and pose practice in!(edited)

http://blog.studiominiboss.com/pixelart - if you're a fan of pixel art, this is a hugely great collection of tutorials by Pedro Medeiros. it's got everything from process explanations, animation tips, shading, and more.(edited)

http://terawell.net/terawell/ - Design Doll, a great 3d program solely focused on doll posing. learning to pose the dolls can be a bit of a learning curve, but it can be fantastic if you really need a specific pose reference.(edited)

http://www.yeoldemapmaker.com/ - another map making website. this one is a lot better for interiors, especially if what you want is to just understand the base layout of a room for reference.(edited)

https://www.textures.com/ - a good site for textures. you have to make an account to download them, unfortunately. however, theres tons upon tons of them. for comics they should be safe, but would recommend checking terms for other things.(edited)

Kabocha

Free Software: I have not personally tested all of these programs. Download at your own risk. indicates that I have used it. Pixia: http://www.ne.jp/asahi/mighty/knight/index.html Artweaver: https://www.artweaver.de/en (has paid version) Medibang Paint: https://medibangpaint.com/en/ Krita: https://krita.org/en/ MyPaint: http://mypaint.org/ (Pressure does not work properly on Surface devices newer than the Surface 3) SmoothDraw: http://www.smoothdraw.com/sd Paint.Net: https://www.getpaint.net/ GIMP: https://www.gimp.org/ Pinta: https://pinta-project.com/pintaproject/pinta/ Inkscape: https://inkscape.org/en/

RebelVampire

https://nattosoup.blogspot.com/ - If you aren't familiar with Becca's blog yet, it's really great. while there is an emphasis on watercolor and traditional art supplies, theres honestly just great information all around. processes, supply reviews, and so on!

Erin Ptah (BICP | Leif & Thorn)

http://leifandthorn.com/2018/07/resources-for-making-webcomics/ - resources I've collected over the years. Mostly art stuff (fonts, color harmony, body types, etc), plus some help with website accessibility and some general webcomic podcasts.

Desnik

This is not a free resource so I hope it's okay, but in just a couple of days poring over the first two pages of this book, I'm really feeling a difference in the elasticity of my character's poses. It doesn't get bogged down by medical terminology and sorts parts of the body by 'landmark' instead: https://www.goodreads.com/book/show/23580472-anatomy-for-sculptors-understanding-the-human-figure

this is speaking as someone who has multiple years of figure drawing practice from life...I wish this book had been out much earlier, it's just amazing

JaSketch

https://www.calligraphr.com/en/ Here’s a free to use website that turns your handwriting into a legit text font, and it works too!

keltyzoid!

speaking of fonts i've actually made a few that are free to use. there's a couple of webcomics i know of that use them. should can i post them?

https://www.dropbox.com/sh/r8wmj4kp2566jbn/AACCrP70zPVLr8h2f5F4d6BIa?dl=0

they're free, no license or credit necessary

kayotics

this is a pretty basic level "how I do comics" but i like to reference these how-to's from Mad Rupert sometimes as a refresh on comics: http://mynameismad.tumblr.com/post/163801383099/hello-in-case-you-havent-heard-the-sakana

lonelytuatara

for any fellow photoshop users who wanna get better at perspective, this video's been really helpful for me! https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=upxBGNcryRs

Delphina

Really helpful Twitter thread about effective paneling! https://twitter.com/h0lysarthole/status/1117464886123089921

Erin Ptah (BICP | Leif & Thorn)

Install old versions of Adobe products for free: https://helpx.adobe.com/creative-suite/kb/cs2-product-downloads.html?promoid=19SCDRQK There are terms & conditions, but the programs don't actually check if you fulfill them. It's up to you to know how much money you've given them, and what you're ethically clear to download in return.

Kabocha

If we're talking about Image Editors, a not-free alternative is Affinity Photo, which is reasonably priced. (I'd look for it to go on sale, but $50 for a perpetual license isn't bad at all!) https://affinity.serif.com/en-us/photo/ Their indesign competitor is in free Beta right now, too: https://affinity.serif.com/en-us/publisher/

Paint.net also still exists: https://www.getpaint.net/

https://www.patreon.com/posts/26834357 In the meantime, here's a post for alternatives to adobe.

https://twitter.com/robochai/status/1124044195092672515

JUNK

https://blog.reimenayee.com/graphic-novel-outline-onion-method/ neat

Hey, I'm sure everyone already knows, but clip studio is on sale for $25 right now! It is (imo) one of the best programs out there for making comics! https://twitter.com/clipstudiopaint/status/1169159411304210432?s=19

MJ Massey

if you're looking for a new display tablet, I found this useful site with tons of tablet reviews! They're organized by size and look at several different brands http://brad.site/reviews/wacom-cintiq-alternatives.html

Attila Polyák

How to draw good looking lightning/electricity! https://www.facebook.com/leesartandmore/photos/a.1370091679712083/2411389295582311/?type=3&theater

seetherabbit

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=0pDE4VX_9Kk

DaeofthePast

Free to use comic font http://purastik.net/ames/e.html

MJ Massey

If you haven't watched Jake Parker's videos, I highly recommend them. They are very informative AND relaxing and encouraging https://www.youtube.com/user/jakeparker44

MJ Massey

GESTURE DRAWINGS! They're important for art practice, especially if you are looking to improve your forms! https://www.quickposes.com/en is my favorite. It has a feature where you can set it to show you different photos every 30-300 seconds to practice gesture drawing!

mariah (rainy day dreams)

Just saw this on Twitter. Haven't actually gotten a chance to look at it closely, but I thought other people might also want to take a look https://twitter.com/Worstwizard/status/1183475129084329984?s=09

Holmeaa - working on WAYFINDERS

https://twitter.com/noahbradley/status/1185286707819827201?s=09

Attila Polyák

Loads of useful facebbok stuff I meant to post a long time ago, but never got around doing it: https://www.facebook.com/AikaLockheart/photos/a.413147142066258/2235198713194416/?type=3&theater https://www.facebook.com/photo.php?fbid=472362883489284&set=a.130547804337462&type=3&theater https://www.facebook.com/geektower/photos/pcb.1089341477902964/1089341267902985/?type=3&theater

MJ Massey

picking pens! From Jake Parker himself https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=bNgYvTI09XE

MJ Massey

for anyone who likes podcasts, I enjoy 3 Point Perspective, particularly their most recent episode on building an online store and making sales https://open.spotify.com/episode/2twCBBjRWZlmzbvWkRoARG?si=N7PiY3UoTJCzq0zZovXsdg

Cronaj ~{Whispers of the Past}~

Here's a good reference generator: https://line-of-action.com/

SAWHAND

Hope this counts as a resource, here's a list of Best Comic Covers in a given month by Paste magazine, it goes up to June 2019. It was really helping me get ideas for covers! https://www.pastemagazine.com/search?t=Best+Comic+Book+Covers&m=Galleries

Cronaj ~{Whispers of the Past}~

This is great!

Erin Ptah (BICP | Leif & Thorn)

Ooh, yeah, those are great.

I did a redraw where I added another 7, for shots that aren't in the original that I also get a ton of use out of: https://www.deviantart.com/erinptah/art/29-Panels-That-Always-Work-748887838

carcarchu

ooooh https://twitter.com/cathygjohn/status/1216093817734139904?s=20

carcarchu

https://twitter.com/ClipStudioTips/status/1217058241613651969

renieplayerone

This may have been shared before but i am a HUGE fan of SenshiStock. Their references are so good and ive used their stock photos for a ton of studies and practice too https://twitter.com/SenshiStock

carcarchu

https://twitter.com/celesse/status/1219674655663042561

carcarchu

https://twitter.com/dankelby/status/1220254171049418752

mariah (rainy day dreams)

https://kingofooo.tumblr.com/post/161105648449/by-storyboard-supervisor-erik-fountain-a-few

Krispy §[Ghost Junk Sickness]§

https://twitter.com/ImRachelBradley/status/1216042005698174977?s=19

carcarchu

https://twitter.com/cyanparade/status/1229450046480867328

Cronaj ~{Whispers of the Past}~

@Feather J. Fern This is the video: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=NEvMHRgPdyk

Cronaj ~{Whispers of the Past}~

@Javi An oldie I still find useful for learning how to draw people: https://archive.org/details/andrew-loomis-drawing-the-head-hands/mode/2up

Nutty (Court of Roses)

https://twitter.com/Lowtwait/status/1232479451721502725

Artem Ficta (Ring Spell)

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=zlh4PO-ISCA

video that looks into this current humble bundle pack

looks kind of interesting

doomedfrgarden

I'm not sure if Borodante's Over-Paint series has been posted here (I didn't see it, but I don't have my glasses so I can't promise a thorough search), but his digital painting tips have been incredibly helpful and inspiring to me, so I hope it helps someone else here. https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=yDKgohjbwY8&list=PL26-CxnLWOfD_h42yjpO44dPAo3-pijgb&index=23

Feather J. Fern

Found something that explains Bleed for comics. https://makingcomics.spiltink.org/pgtemplates/

Cronaj ~{Whispers of the Past}~

A soft-shading demo I made for@Feather J. Fern & @Artem Ficta (Ring Spell) Sorry this took so long to complete! https://youtu.be/Cyc9EVissw0

carcarchu

https://twitter.com/hanari0716/status/931463182354227201

Mei

For people like me who mess up their bleeds and have to fix them in post, I had this lying in my bookmarks! https://twitter.com/TheDamnThinGuy/status/1190321427314032646?s=20

keii’ii (Heart of Keol)

There are lots of guides to tangents, and here is one I like a lot! http://curiousoldlibrary.blogspot.com/2011/10/schweizer-guide-to-spotting-tangents.html

carcarchu

https://twitter.com/Sasquatchiix/status/1236987090874667008 This is a visual novel zine but section 2 on resources actually has a lot of cross-over in terms of usability for comic creators, check it out if you feel like testing out some new tools! Update - I read through the articles now and I actually really recommend checking them out too for advice when it comes to story-writing and how to lay it all out(edited)

Holmeaa - working on WAYFINDERS

Want to share this with you all! https://creatureartteacher.com/product/fundamentals-of-animation/?fbclid=IwAR0ahSOtdTBPmi0cHQlBpyMK7RveLZXptqcLrFX559KQMOkp-oLjGG9JA_0 Fundamentals of Animation Course Aron Blaise a big disney animator, has an animation Course that take you through the princibles of animation. This course is free for a limited time if you want to learn about animation!

Cronaj ~{Whispers of the Past}~

Really cool video I found about pricing your commissions: https://youtu.be/pN4P82Y_3k0

carcarchu

a handy tool for those who work in clip https://twitter.com/2TooToo2/status/1243101802435727360

mariah (rainy day dreams)

I'm not sure if this is the right channel, but I'm going around shouting about how Adobe users can get two months free because of the pandemic this morning. Here's an article about how to do it! https://www.creativebloq.com/news/adobe-payment-holiday?fbclid=IwAR108UH-2fQfvQzyc2STIHZh9H7LOzr1xvOoLPM_7pylHNoQ9isvMDT4wRw

I also made a tweet for easy sharing if you don't want to type your own. https://twitter.com/RainyDayMariah/status/1243573425697742848?s=20

Krispy §[Ghost Junk Sickness]§

https://twitter.com/metalsorcery/status/1247930202073829377?s=19 This is a survey to answer for webcomic creators to get their work featured in this newsletter! Open to every one!

Cronaj ~{Whispers of the Past}~

@Miranda (Into the Swell) This one's pretty good: https://www.deviantart.com/theinkyway/art/Manga-Studio-5-Clip-Studio-Paint-Brush-Pack-619455926

carcarchu

@Miranda (Into the Swell) this is my ultimate fave http://fav.me/d7s799d

carcarchu

this is handy reference image account that only posts pictures of suits and mundane things https://twitter.com/madarameBK

Joichi [Hybrid Dolls]

Follow Art of Webcomics (on Twitter) which help independent creators host a site and share your page updates: https://series.artofwebcomics.com/(edited)

carcarchu

https://assets.clip-studio.com/en-us/detail?id=1725189 a handy sfx brush for clip studio paint that can help save some time with your process (it's got various effects built in the brush itself so you don't have to have several stroke layers to achieve the effect) it costs 2 dollars

SaltySalmonella

I made an SFX (sound effect) booklet for comic artists who are having difficulty visualizing sounds for their comics. It's free to download on Gumroad! https://gumroad.com/SaltySalmonella#VOZQM

Elliot

https://twitter.com/nicparris/status/1253710231781036043

CoppertheCarutor

I'm not sure if this goes in writing or art resources because it's art based, but the focus is on using colors to aid the story, but I thought this was a pretty neat video. https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=aXgFcNUWqX0&feature=emb_logo

mariah (rainy day dreams)

I was looking up some moonlight tutorials for an illustration last night. Figured I'd share~ https://tips.clip-studio.com/en-us/articles/1684

https://www.deviantart.com/ryky/art/MOON-easy-tutorial-399161176

carcarchu

https://youtu.be/LokpJy7KHpE Shilin talks about her thought processes when laying out her comic panels

carcarchu

some free flower assets for clip https://assets.clip-studio.com/ko-kr/search?user=miyage3&order=new

carcarchu

Reimena Yee did an interesting thread on the visual language used in comics https://twitter.com/reimenayee/status/1263755464853995521(edited)

sierrabravo (Hans Vogel is Dead)

yess I was hoping someone would put that up here!!! such a good resource

that reminded me of the 22 panels that always work, something I've been trying to utilize more when I get stuck working: https://cloudfour.com/thinks/22-panels-that-always-work-wally-woods-legendary-productivity-hack/

Erin Ptah (BICP | Leif & Thorn)

It's so reliable, last year I was able to recreate the whole thing using only pre-existing panels from Leif & Thorn. (Then added another row because there were a few other shots I keep coming back to...) https://leifandthorn.com/comic/erin-ptahs-29-panels-that-always-work/

(Note, there's a horizontal scrollbar under the image, since I uploaded the big version.)

DaeofthePast

found this tutorial/tips on drawing scars that I found useful https://jetfeather.tumblr.com/post/163383759536/i-have-a-hard-time-drawing-scars-how-do-you-do

carcarchu

For those who suffer from pain while drawing: https://twitter.com/lost_paw/status/1271540123688210433

Evil_Chippy (My Hero!)

https://twitter.com/Darchala/status/1272257378881175552?s=20

Cronaj ~{Whispers of the Past}~

@Krispy §[Ghost Junk Sickness]§ Here's the brush pack. The one I used is called "Pensona": https://www.deviantart.com/theinkyway/art/Manga-Studio-5-Clip-Studio-Paint-Brush-Pack-619455926

carcarchu

How to draw a lot of books https://twitter.com/yoshida_seiji/status/1200432951671939073

carcarchu

Mentorship directory for this interested in that kind of thing https://docs.google.com/spreadsheets/d/1vfcr_F0utixw7D-rsbUoId1kwU2Ee_c_jXy2r5df-Jc/edit?usp=sharing

shadowhood {SunnyxRain}

https://www.lackadaisy.com/exhibit.php?exhibitid=333 A fun tutorial on drawing expressions

carcarchu

A really comprehensive look into the panel border tool in clip https://professorfaf.tumblr.com/post/178927411355/comic-paneling-tools-in-clip-studio-paint Great for beginners but even if you're already acquainted with them it's helpful for finding out things you may not have even realized

Krispy §[Ghost Junk Sickness]§

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=ED289uthfNQ&feature=share&fbclid=IwAR1ka0j6gwtFcj5aXS8wIj-zpgwaYiI2ncP-g4Tn6hL0h4VFa-rKn6MM_1Q this is my old illustration instructor who did a tutorial on watercolour if anyone was interested in the medium! her stuff is so vibrant and solid, and i was so happy to have her as my old prof!

CoppertheCarutor

Light bounce! https://twitter.com/KikiDoodleTweet/status/1276565894051753984?s=19

carcarchu

https://twitter.com/Ghadaaax/status/1277158331761807360 helpful tips!

cAPSLOCK (Tailslide)

Colorist K Michael Russell has been streaming nightly as he colors pages from comics he's working on, while giving tips and insight into his thought process: https://www.youtube.com/channel/UCps08eOJfFRm00TE5LStIIg

carcarchu

Advice on how to utilize speedlines https://youtu.be/Y_3Rbjn_0r0

Cronaj ~{Whispers of the Past}~

I just have to plug this amazing program here: https://affinity.serif.com/en-gb/publisher/ It's basically a replacement program for Adobe inDesign, but waaay cheaper. If you're like me and have sworn off Adobe, I highly recommend it. I've been messing with it all day to begin setting up my first volume for print, and I love it so far, especially after trying other budget publishing softwares. Can't recommend it enough.

Holmeaa - working on WAYFINDERS

hii! https://www.dropbox.com/sh/m8yv10gevqv2x5s/AACVoWTvK-B7qB1yRGUZadB5a?dl=0 Here is a little gallery of fat bodies!

carcarchu

world building tool thing https://www.worldanvil.com/artist i haven't tried it out yet but it looks interesting!

carcarchu

https://twitter.com/soteikat/status/1285036231592558592 takie made some free to use comic resources!

carcarchu

https://twitter.com/aeipathea/status/1285048061518061569

carcarchu

it is a website that shares dimensions for things. Helpful for referencing proportions https://www.dimensions.com/(edited)

Cronaj ~{Whispers of the Past}~

I don't necessarily agreed with everything they said, but it's still a good video, and I definitely agree with many of the points they brought up: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=GZQKeHnKK90

Especically the "stop drawing _" advice

I dealt with that a lot in school

I am an antivirus program (2020)

> CHAPTER 2 The new human type cannot be properly understood without an awareness of what he is continuously exposed to from the world - Theodor Adorno. Minima Moralia, 1951 We can not change the medium as the medium is predicated on the message (use my square space code for a 10% discount)- we are fixed in this web 2.0 and the control of knowledge will be met with the streamlining of UI and UX design. Design tools like the adobe programs will continue to increase their premium and their monopoly hold on the design space - to be a designer is to be implicated with this process, regardless if you pirate software or notThis is where I raise flags against the tepid conglomeration of blog sites and web in general, the astroturfing of the internet has only amplified the feedback of Graphic Design. You’d typically call this commercial design. Commercial design fits the criteria of an evolving media world, “It is important to note that this ultimate stage of pictorialization was a reversal of pattern. The world of body and mind...was not photographical at all, but anonvisual set of relations”1. Commercial Design started to drive an efficiency science behind it’s aesthetic - you make the access mode immediate and your engagement success is far higher, and you do this through the pictogram, and when photography came about, that too was made into a design appendage. “To understand the medium of the photograph is quite impossible, then, without grasping its relations to other media, both old and new. For media, as extensions of our physical and nervous systems, constitute a world of biochemical interactions that must ever seek new equilibrium as new extensions occur.”1 This is potentially a valuable understanding of media, and thus design, presented by media theorist Marshall Mcluhan, commercial design (and all art and design in a sense) are schizophrenic presentations of the world, they accumulate meanings outside the presented scope of an advertisement, or typography - they link the relational experience of the mass media consumer, as Mcluhan states. However, this is not all, he states an ‘equilibrium as new extensions occur’ - in my context now this weighs with a great importance, we know the new extensions already, something that Mcluhan unfortunately didn’t get to experience fully, and that’s the web, the modern computer, the pocket mobile device. These are in their own rights mediums, your OS (operating system) is a computer language medium that dictates other program mediums, the access mode to the rest of the systems of design, websites contain live feeds and streams to distant realities, it’s all so lucid but at the same time it feels like an astral projection. At times this can feel nauseating, that collapsing feeling of ‘space’ and ‘time’. This presents a wider problem with modern design, technology has embedded itself into the core of the practice since the dawn of paper and pen, stone and chisel etc. The problem being that while technology has stopped gapped connectivity, it refuses to go further - refuses to return the creativity of a design practice unless commandeered. This has led to the necessity for the designer to code, and script, to kit bend and utilise AI - once again “fragmenting” the work role. “Under conditions of electric circuitry, all the fragmented job patterns tend to blend once more into involving and demanding roles or forms of work that more and more resemble teaching, learning, and “human” service, in the older sense of dedicated loyalty.” Graphic design namely has done well to adapt and reshape, showing its versatility in the age of digital design. Not only that, it hybridizes aesthetic models much like a fashion season generates new styles, which keeps design itself fresh and alive, while sometimes slipping into the contrived and over-saturated. But is the “human” service really what Graphic Design is becoming? It certainly hints to this with the proactive design studio model. Interaction and Bureaucracy, it’s an efficiency tactic. All design requires hierarchy even if that hierarchy is to not have one. I see the office space, I remember the spider plant, I see the shore line, I see the whitecaps. The workers space is a micro-territorial space of capital politics and a grab for faux socialism in most cases, in some, it is an honest attempt to form comradery - the cafeteria is an effective grounds to reinforce or detourne this thinking. People like artist Olafur Eliasson effectively install a commons space for the studio team to interact and communicate, job roles are made equal in that space. “The studio, as much as we don’t like it, means working in your own little departments, compartmentalised. And there are hierarchies even though everyone’s a part of the democracy. The kitchen is a nice leveller.” It’s a universal ideology that falls into a majority of Eliasson’s work that provides an effective future-proof for how the operations of studio practice should be carried out (see the Auteur myth). My cynicism is only symptomatic of the consumerist prerequisite that allows design to exist in the first place - a degree in the topic definitely is met with a careerist sentiment, to be financially viable within a milieu of art and design subjects. Graphic Design should not try to divorce itself from this grouping, it stands stronger with the complex wovings and multitudes that allow it to bloom as an individual practice that arranges the practice of others. The efforts here are a concern with the design practice no less, and how ethics and politics are sequestered by a shifting responsibility of effects, how and why Graphic design mutated into the corporate virus that it is now. ”All media work us over completely.”8 This is Mcluhan’s sentiment from his writings in the 60’s, and It stands up true to this day, more so than ever. Algoration (the use of data algorithms to curate a web feed) are notorious and globally implemented into most ‘social media’, but outside social media, it’s used as predictive data. This is the “reversal pattern”, Graphic Design puts a face to this slippery coded underbelly. The automation of design media has become an efficient business strategy to overmine its user base data, and subsequently requires illustration. To be concise, the study of the Graphic Designer is in part the study of Media, the study of media is the lens of relational activities and connectivity. And this is the permitted virus. Adversely, the antivirus program is a research protocol invested in studying the autonomy available to a Graphic Designer, and an extended hand to all fragmented sectors that require a similar reclamation. Language dictates media – media manufactures consent, therefore language manufactures consent. A small quibble no less, that the Graphic Designer goes to bed with media every day. And in the morning they arise with vast spawns of editorials, emailing lists, content posts - lots of fucking content posts by content creatures. The homogeneous sprawl of media is a compounded expository of new design conditions. “Today, the mass audience can be used as a creative, participating force. It is, instead, merely given packages of passive entertainment.”8 The passive entertainment is reflexive of its audience, an audience that is content on not being challenged when engaging and consuming media, not being challenged when creating and releasing it - the language logic is a false preposition - things don’t have to occur in the forefront of our percepts, media can be a stealth operation for critical theory or a dog whistle for nazis. Even a glass of milk is steeped in meaning. “The photograph is just as useful for collective, as for individual, postures and gestures, whereas written and printed language is biased toward the private and individual(s) posture.”1 Mcluhan and designer Rapheal Roake seem to fit perfectly in collusion with one another here, “All design is a political act”, this fits Mcluhan’s collective principle for the photograph precisely, as this explicitly gives backing to the relational dynamics of media itself, it sits in the collective sphere - the global village. It all begins to feel like a fever dream, the spectres of Helvetica, Comic sans and Papyrus jumping on your chest as you’re paralysed in a waking dream. Blink and you’ll miss the horses head 144hz refresh rate. The grid settings of your life are closing in tighter and tighter as you cant kern in a moment for peace, please adobe I’m plugged in to your creative cloud let me use my kettle already, yes dear, they’re wacom tablet plates, we threw out the cutlery and replaced them for tote bags and ironic panel hats. The decoherence of the 21st century is here and it’s got anthropocene smeared all over its lips. Everyone wants to fuck their OLED displays, the screen is constantly flirting with me, it bulges and writhes along with it’s circuitry like an obscene Cronenburg slide show, and with a tilt of the hinge, it rips my hands straight off the bone. It’s simultaneously psychosexual and completely meaningless, but there doesn’t seem to be any Big Other alternative, can you see the demons wearing the guise of post-modernity, and where they emit a solar flare? Just tryna game the system can’t you see, if I shake it at just the right moment, at the right angle, I’ll get an additional diet coke. You don’t understand how fucking much I like diet coke. A man who finds himself among others drinking diet coke is irritated because he does not know why he is not one of the others drinking diet coke. I have graphic design Stockholm syndrome, what do you mean you don’t know who Gerrit Noordzij is? At this point going outside will trigger my flight or fight response, I’m afraid of being swooped by seagulls while I’m bound on a rock, I sleep in a bed with a faraday blanket, I’m absolutely glowing, washed in sunlight. “As for the anticipation of reality by images, the precession of images and media in relation to events, such that the connection between cause and effect becomes scrambled and it becomes impossible to tell which is the effect of the other” These collective postures translate into all modern media and are littered with effects. One is singular and rhizomatic in any given instance of engagement towards media and the invisible hand of the ‘designer’. And on the contrary the medium is an assemblage of arborescence and is later politicised in the factory line assembly - a by-product of ‘essential’ capital labor. The capital fiction is overwritten by the post-market mythos of a company and it’s figureheads, it’s in-house publishing team use individual members to feature in nice magazines. Effects, we are overcome by so many different effects daily, to the extent that we become desensitized to the potential the subsequent causes and effects, modern reality makes sure to compound these consequences of media to a sensory overload of hysteria, the neurotic ones take to pinterest to organise themselves. We like to order things, It gives clarity and comfort within the dysphoria and entropy of our lives, pinterest, tumblr, are.na, instagram are all negentropical solutions in an overstimulated digital environment. “Instant communication insures that all factors of the environment and of experience coexist in a state of active interplay.”8 To understand this I need to clarify that the medium, the message, the photograph and all subsets of visual and nonvisual information are communication - it goes without saying - but this establishes the politicised and astroturfed space of Graphic Design, a designer is expected to make commercially viable work to thrive, and usually this is achieved by co-opting styles to any degree appropriate to a brief. This results is the parody, the hyperstition and hyperobject - an overly ironic and self aware ventilation apparatus that keeps the gimmicks of Graphic Design alive. The overtures of a design piece can appear stark placid and regurgitated. It’s very much easy to default to a ctrl-c, ctrl-v automation process. Reinforced no less by an autodidact push of some educational institutions - more concerned with juggling design briefs than focusing their teachings on a core design system (despite their ever love for the Bauhaus - yes huni the library is open). Of course, with the new emphasis on a technology dominated world we are expected to rely and reinforce the techno-dependent designer (work smart not hard). And we are yet to catch up to this mutation in design, where design was once a phylogeny of different features that collected to assume a physical medium, centrered on type, constrained by fibres and ink and oil - these components have congealed onto the Macbook, the ergonomics of physical/digital unbound the Designer from the difficulties of a physical medium. So why do we remain in the realm of rehashing typefaces and conventional media, why are we tied down to the revolving doors of design trends - surely now than ever we have all the components, all the tools to produce new design movements, this can’t keep up “When the circuit learns your job, what are you going to do?”8

Silence in Atlas 18/?

Once more, this is a dark take on Volume 7 from a Bumbleby standpoint. It has scenes of graphic violence. If there are any specific trigger warnings I will specify it. 

SO YEAH HERE IT IS :D Took a bit longer than expected because it’s been very busy days. I broke my rule of not publishing the chapter until the next one is done so now I am writing and posting as I write. Two updates a week still seem managable though :D Thanks to all the people out there supporting SIA. Means a LOT y’all. And to the haters: thanks for the publicity jajaja. ONTO THE CHAPTER! 

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Doctor Yu arrived at the hospital shortly after he was called. He had been sound asleep next to his wife when his scroll woke him up. As soon as he heard the word “Blake” he stood up and began dressing himself. Yang was really glad he was so committed to her girlfriend’s case. She really didn’t want any other doctor to see her. When she learned he wasn’t at the hospital she worried there would be no other choice. Seeing the man coming through the door was a relief.

“Good day” Yu said with a smile. It was four in the morning but somehow he looked well rested.

“Hey” Yang said standing up from her bed to shake the doctor’s hand. “Thank you for coming so quickly” the blonde added with a gentle curve on her lips.

“Thank you for calling me” he walked towards the bed slowly, trying not to overwhelm his patient. He had treated her wounds so he knew what she had gone through. “Hello, Ms. Belladonna, I’m doctor Yu, your main doctor. It’s so good to see you awake”. Blake stared at him for a while. He looked kind and it was a sight she had forgotten. Still, she felt uneasy. “I brought this scroll tablet so we can communicate better” he said, holding the object in front of her. She grabbed it. “You just use it to write or draw or whatever you prefer” the faunus nodded in response. “Are you in any kind of pain?”

“Just my head” she wrote.

“Can you move your body comfortably?” she moved her head sideways.

“I feel weak”

Doctor Yu asked several more routine questions before moving on to the physical exam. When he approached Blake to check her eyes she flinched back with a terrified look on her face. Yang stepped in, kneeling next to the bed and holding her hand.

“Baby, it’s okay” she said. “Doctor Yu is the best. He just wants to help”. Blake looked her girlfriend in the eyes and her breathing came back to normal slowly. When she calmed down she turned to look at the doctor.

“I’m sorry” she mouthed, her ears flat on her head.

“Don’t apologize” he replied “Your reaction is perfectly understandable”

With Yang holding her hand and telling her everything was going to be okay Blake managed to get through the examination. When it was done the doctor was happy to tell them everything seemed to be going fantastically. Her aura was considerably stronger, not completely back but able to help with the injuries. Most of them had already started healing. Her vitals were pretty good as well and they disconnected her from all the machines. 

“I’d like to keep you here until the injury on your neck heals completely” Doctor Yu proposed. “I don’t want that burn to get infected so we need to clean it constantly until the skin grows back”. Blake looked at Yang and they both nodded lightly.

“Okay, doctor” the blonde replied. “We trust you”.

-----------------

Ruby hugged Blake the minute she walked into the room. Weiss waited behind her to do the same. Just like Doctor Yu, the team had rushed to the hospital as soon as they heard their friend was awake. They were both excited and worried about the challenges she would have to face during her recovery. On the way to the hospital, Nora had admitted she was was feeling uneasy about talking to Blake knowing that she couldn’t speak. The redhead didn’t want to react in any way that would make her friend uncomfortable but it was hard no to be upset or just cry at what had been done to the faunus. Ren told her to hold his hand firmly and smile. Blake needed their support.

“I’m so glad you are awake, kid” Qrow said, gently placing a hand on the girl’s shoulder. She wanted to move away from his touch but managed to control herself. It was Qrow. Nothing bad was going to happen.

“You’re looking better already” Jaune added, smiling. She smiled back. Blake remembered Jaune being in the airship when she was taken from Staub so he knew what he was talking about. She was glad she looked better.

“So, how long are you going to stay here?” Ren asked, holding Nora’s hand firmly in his. She didn’t say anything.

“Doctor Yu wants to keep her here until the wound in her neck is fully healed” Yang replied from her chair.

“Makes sense” Ruby said, sitting on the edge of the bed. “If there’s anything either of you need call us” she added looking at her sister. It was pretty self evident Yang wasn’t going to leave this hospital without her girlfriend.

“Thanks, sis” Yang smiled as she looked around the room. She was so glad to have her friends. Her family.

“It is a nice day to be awake” Maria said as she opened the curtains to let the the natural light inside. “The sun’s come out”.

Blake looked outside and she felt the wind hit her face. The sky was blue and cloudless. It was a beautiful sight. When she was captive she forgot how freedom even looked like. She took a deep breath. Her friends were with her and she was healing. The nightmare was over. She opened her mouth to say something, forgetting for a second they had stolen her voice. When no sound came out she remembered she’d never be free of what they had done to her. She looked down.

“Hey, everything okay?” Yang asked, noticing the change in the other girl’s demeanor. Blake nodded as she wrote on the scroll tablet.

“I’m just tired”.

“Well, maybe we should let you rest. It hasn’t even been three hours since you woke up” Weiss said. She was so glad that Blake was getting better. However, she couldn’t stop looking at the bandages on her wrists and neck. There was still a long way to go.

“We’ll get going then. We have a meeting with Ironwood in a couple of hours so we should get ready” Qrow added. The rest of the team seemed to agree with him and started saying their goodbyes. Blake was sad to seem them go but, at the same a time, a little relieved. She wasn’t feeling well enough to interact with so many people at once, even if they were her friends. When they started walking towards the door Jaune stopped to look at the ceiling.  

“Why are the lights on though?” he asked. Now that Maria had opened the window the room was pretty well lit so it seemed unnecessary.

“I’ll get them” Nora said walking towards the wall where the light switch was. Yang didn’t notice what was happening. She was sitting next to the bed staring at Blake as she looked through the window with sad amber eyes. Then they heard it.  

Click.

Blake tried to control herself. She knew it was the light switch. She knew she was no longer wearing the collar. She new she was safe. It didn’t matter. As soon as the click made its way to her ears it was done. Her body reacted on its own even though her mind knew it made no sense. Her blood burned.

“What happened?” Ruby asked, walking back into the room and kneeling besides her sister. Yang held Blake’s hand firmly.

“It’s okay, baby” she whispered in her ear. The girl shivered, an expression of horror captured in her face.

“Is she okay? What happened?” Weiss asked, visibly alarmed.

“She’s having a panic attack” Maria replied. “Everyone just shut up!”

Silence.  

“Breathe” Yang said in a calm tone, looking into Blake’s eyes. The faunus didn’t move. She was paralyzed by fear. The wound in her neck burned. “I’m here. It’s okay”. With those words Blake finally snapped out of it and looked back into lilac eyes. Her breathing started to normalize. Yang moved a hand to cup her cheek.

“What was the trigger?” the old woman asked. One didn’t get to live as much as her without learning a few things about trauma.

“The light switch” Yang said and Nora felt like shit. “They used a shock collar on her and the sound is very similar so it makes her body react”.

“I’m so sorry, Blake I didn’t know…” the redhead tried to apologize but she was interrupted by a calm voice.

“You had no way of knowing” Ren told her holding her hand. She looked at her feet, tears at the corners of her eyes.

“Let’s get going then” Qrow said, leading the team out the door. He didn’t want to make a big deal about what had happened. He felt it would only make the situation more uncomfortable for Blake. He looked at Yang and felt a tug in his heart. She was holding the faunus’ hand as she caressed her hair gently. They had a long way to go before things could be close to normal and he knew his niece was going to suffer. Love did that sort of thing.

“Are you feeling better?” the blonde asked once they were all gone. Blake moved her head sideways and picked up the scroll tablet the doctor had given her.

“I freaked them out” she wrote.

“You didn’t freak them out” Yang replied. “They’re just worried about you”. The faunus looked down. She knew her friends cared for her sincerely and that itself made her feel blessed. And yet the looks of horror in their faces as she came out of the panic attack had made her feel so broken. She used the scroll tablet once more.

“I want to get better”.

“And you will” the blonde said. She knew what dealing with trauma was. She had been chased by dreams of Adam ever since he had cut her arm in Beacon. She recalled how some noises would freak her out, how she would wake up from nightmares sweating and alone. She wasn’t going to let that happen to Blake. This time she was going to be there for her. This time they’d be there for each other.

“Blake” Yang called and the alluded one raised her eyes to look at her. She placed a hand on the back of the faunus’ head and pulled her in for a kiss. Blake closed her eyes and somehow the world was okay. Nothing else mattered but the feeling of lips moving against her own. Yang broke the kiss, moving back abruptly as if she suddenly remembered something. “Have I told you how much I love you?” she said with a look in her eyes that made the faunus’ heart race.

Blake blushed. She knew. A part of her had always known. Sometimes it scared her, knowing Yang cared so much about her. It had put her in danger. It had cost her an arm and yet she was here, saying that she loved her. Blake wanted to say it back. She was so in love. She thought of writing it in the scroll tablet but it felt so empty, so impersonal. How could she say those three words for the first time through a screen? This time it was her that pulled the other one in for a kiss. She promised herself the first thing she would do when she got her voice back was telling Yang she loved her.

Ruby and Weiss went back to the hospital after their meeting with Ironwood. They made their way towards Blake’s room but, once there, they couldn’t bring themselves to enter. The picture in front of them was both sad and heartwarming. Blake was asleep in her bed and there was something in her face that seemed peaceful. She looked considerably better than the first time they had seen her in that hospital room. Next to her was Yang, resting in an impossible position on the chair. In her hands she held a book. Ruby thought maybe she had been reading something to the faunus but at a closer look she realized what her sister’s intention actually was. It seemed Weiss noticed at the same time as her. They exchanged a bittersweet look and left, neither of them able to say anything.

The book on Yang’s hands was entitled “Sign language for beginners”.

89P13: Ch. 12

You have studied your entire life, sacrificed friendships, lovers, family for this-the message now on your tablet. Holding your breath, you tap the message and your heart jitters, you’ve been accepted. There it is plain as day. Accepted to The Halfworld Bioweaponry Laboratories. You start Tuesday.

My take on Rocket’s origins.

WARNING: Animal abuse, PTSD, Graphic descriptions of violence and gore

Subject 89P13’s incredulous face glares at you, it’s wet sniffing nose inches from your own.

“Don’t think about it, don’t even think about it,” it snarls murderously. “Get whatever sick thoughts you have out of your head, or I’ll blow them out the back of your skull.” It waits a moment, appraising you with those beady red eyes. With no pupils it is impossible to tell exactly where it is focusing. You squirm, your tongue trying to work its way around the device in your mouth. P13 smirks, you think it is a smirk. It is hard to tell. “Heard they let you out after everyone came back,” it reaches for device in your mouth and removes it. You cannot help but a shiver of fear. A grenade, or at least some version of one.

“Your….your vocabulary has improved,” you observe. P13 raises a brow, twirling the key to the explosive around its finger. It wears clothes now, a utilitarian looking jumpsuit, and it bares more fur then last you saw, silky and thick. Healthy. Though you can still see the two cybernetic implants on its collar bones. You try to move your arms, but the flora colossus holds you fast, your arms trembling with the effort.

“Say Groot, how do you think you make a humie into a monster?”

“I am Groot,” the creature rumbles. You can feel its deep voice vibrate through the bark that holds at you no matter how hard you try to wriggle free. P13 nods,

“That’s right,” it praises. “Go ahead.” Whatever the flora said is lost to you, but you sense its hesitation as P13 glares up at it.

“C’mon Groot, you said you’d help me out!” There is a moment of heavy silence. You cry out as white snapping pain shatters through your arms and legs. Your vision swims as you fall to the ground. Both your arms and legs broken with a simple tightening of vines. P13 grins, its pointed teeth reflecting in the light through the open window. “Don’t dry doc,” 13 mocks as your eyes fill with stinging tears, “I’m just trying to make you feel better.” It steps closer to you its claws out…out of every modification you made why didn’t you ever take the claws out? You wince as it climbs up on top of you, its weight pressed against your lower back. Your limbs twinge with burning agony the arms and vines of the flora colossus clamping down is the only reason you don’t topple over. “Tsch, tsh, tsch you humies are scrawny.” Its little claws puncture through your sides drawing blood where it crouches. “Your gonna need some enhancements.”

“S….st…stop…s” your words are lost to the sharp slicing of flesh as P13’s tears at your shoulder blades. You scream, and nearly fall to the floor but the wooden arms hold tight. You can feel your blood running down your sides, watching it glide down your arms. You hear the tear of flesh P13’s claws ripping at you.

“Now, now, now what do we say to people who are just trying to make you feel better?” You bite your tongue against the pain, and you let a shriek as something cold is wedged into your open back. P13 hops down and faces you again, those soulless eyes gleaming. “What do you say?” 13 demands and lifts its arm up, a shiver runs through your spine. A wristband, nearly identical to the one you once wore. You let out a low moan “use your words!” The moan rises to a cracking scream when you feel white hot branches of electricity fire through your tender swollen muscles, striking against your bones. Your vision blurs and your stomach revolts. “We’re gonna play a little game,” P13 continues as the electricity ebbs. It pulls yet another firearm from its belt. “Can you identify this weapon?” You stare at the gun in its paws, small, black and brown metal, you realize with a start that you have no idea. Your blood runs cold, face paling.  “What is it?” P13 asks again, examining the weapon with a chilling fondness. You muster a sniveling laugh,

“Your impressive P13,” you raise your exhausted head to look at it. “You’ve advanced far beyond anything I thought capable. I ought to congratulate myself.” A vicious hiss and you let out a wail as P13’s claws grab a fistful of your hair and wrenches your head up, neck cracking. You twist feebly but the Flora colossus still holds you hostage. 13 hisses something indistinguishable putting the gun under your chin.

“Why’d you do it?” It growls in your ear, holding your head up, the darkness twirls before you. “Why?!” 13 cries, you can feel its arms shaking the gun clinking lightly.

“Why did I create you?” You laugh a little, of course…it is only natural that such a thing would begin to inquire about its own existence.   “Why not?” You smile through the numb aching in your limbs, the crick in your neck. You manage to angle your head to the left, so that you can barely see P13’s red eyes in your periphery. “I wanted to see if it could be done,” you grin at your own youthful naïve dreams. “There was no purpose,” you force the words through your teeth, “no great plan or scheme for you or any of the other subjects.” The grip on your hair constricts, the gun pressed hard against your flesh. “You weren’t made for anything but my own amusement 89P13, and for the glory of scientific and technological advancement.” You suck air through your throat over the pain in your raw back, “what greater purpose could there possibly be?” P13 shudders beside you, tightening its paw around the grip of gun. “It wasn’t easy either,” you reflect. “Your heart stopped over twelve times during the procedures. I kept having to revive you. And that one time an intern snipped some nerve endings and you were brain dead for four days. You were no easy feat to create.”

Silence. Only your own breath, and its own breath, both wheezing.

“I died?” It wonders, “I should have died…” it thinks allowed. “I wanted to die.” You recall subject 89P16 who unbeknownst to it or not, succeeded in that endeavor when it clawed out its implants.

“Oh yes 89P13 by all accounts your brain and heart stopped functioning a total of seventeen times in the procedures or during conditioning.”

More silence.

“Can yah undo it?” It finally asks, that same small low tone you heard so many years ago. Timid and filled with a longing hope. Your body lists as the flora colossus grip loosens for a moment. You force yourself to turn looking at the wooden face. Those large watery eyes laced with hurt and sorrow, looking at 89P13 with unyielding empathy. “Can you undo it!” 13 begs, wrenching your hair so that your head bends to the side, neck strained. “Undo it! Undo all the shit you did to me! Turn me back!" Tears prick at the edge of its eyes. "Turn me back to whatever I was before…you fucked me up! Before…before…” and with that something seems to break inside of it lowers the gun, letting go of your hair. You rub the back of your neck though your arm protests with shoots of pain. A cool haunting breeze teases your hair through the open window, goosebumps puckering on your skin. P13 stands before you, tail lashing. You haul yourself to your knees.

“You’d give up all you’ve learned?” You challenge, “you’d have all your strength and knowledge and abilities stripped of you to be a…a mute dumb animal groveling in the dirt?” 13’s eyes shift from its feet to your own gaze and you feel your spine twinge in fear. “Even if I could….” You smother your fright under your ego, “I would never forsake a lifetime of work to unmake you, a perfect weapon…a perfect little monster.” P13 flinches and the flora colossus rumbles. It lifts the gun once more, aiming squarely between your eyes. Though your mind and adrenaline compel you to run your body is too tired, to swollen and nauseated with agony. P13 glares at you, its stance firm but its body shakes, the gun rattling. Its feverish eyes burn with vitriol, every hair on end. You wait for it, expecting it, it is fitting really like all the tales. The creator destroyed by their own creation.  

You shake, your heart thundering, breath heaving. You think you break a rib from the effort, but you cannot feel it through the ocean of other agonies. You look at P13, its red glowing eyes boring into you and that is when you realize it with a blood curdling horror that this animal has created you as much as you have created it. 13 whispers something, and you watch the gun clatter to the floor. All is slow and silent then, your own uneven breaths in slow motion.

“I am Groot,” the flora rumbles with vitriol. Something sharp slices through your neck, splintering. You gag, hands going to your throat and feeling shards of bark slick with something sap like but too thin. Your vision wanes as your gurgle something red and liquid, tongue tasting something warm and metallic. Your vision tunnels, head in a fog, at the end of that tunnel is P13, it stares down at you as you fall. This pathetic little specimen, this pulverized beast, this freak of nature. All it knows is how to kill and reign destruction, its paws will never grace another’s hand. It will never know love or affection, there is nothing it can conceive but instruments of pain and death. It will never make anything beautiful. You have made it so. You think with smug satisfaction even as your eyes grow heavy and your breath light, blood slicking over your fingers. If 89P13 attempts to go against its nature and reach out to another, if it tries to form connection or feel compassion or empathy, it will only be because it is trying to rebel against its natural tendencies, and it will fail of course. Even its efforts to be something more than what it is will be because of you. Even if it tries to prove it is not a monster. It will always be a monster. There is not enough blood going to your brain. Your heart beats out of rhythm with the shock of losing so much of the vital substance so suddenly. You are chilled. You see those red eyes glowering down at you see them until you cannot see anything anymore. But you die knowing Subject 89P13 has made it through its development. You have succeeded.

Pixelmator Photo for iPad

This will take awhile to get to the point so if you’re interested, buckle in for a winding, drawn out reason about why I’m not switching to Pixelmator Photo as much as I want to.

I’m an avid Lightroom CC user. I have never used Photoshop, not because I don’t want to but because I’m too stupid.

In the past I was an Aperture user and it never clicked. The catalogue was too confusing to me. Again, stupid. When it was discontinued I switched to Lightroom and have done well with it since. Adobe later released Lightroom Mobile (now the cross-platform Lightroom CC) during the time I had adopted a heavy iPhone/iPad travel workflow and I grew up with the program. Lightroom was straightforward and essentially offers the simple tools that I used in the darkroom- dodging and burning, with digital exposure and color edits.  Plus a little more.

I have had a strange fascination with Pixelmator for years.  Many times since 2012 I’ve tried to use Pixelmator which is a layers based graphics editor. The price was right and they were an Apple only product that worked to make the most of the Apple hardware. They even released a mobile app with some of the core features.  But again it’s a layers based editor and if I couldn’t figure out Photoshop this wasn’t going to help me. I looked often for tutorials to learn the software but they weren’t available like they are for Adobe products.

When Pixelmator Pro for the Mac was being released last year I was fully ready to make an attempt at using it and abandoning Lightroom. 

Why would I leave Adobe? I don’t like that I’m boxed into one system. I pay 20 dollars a month for the photography Creative Cloud account with 2 TB of data. I have to be very careful with that catalogue as I go because 2TB isn’t a lot for a full and active catalogue over years, even with mindful archiving.  And I’m managing two different photography catalogues- Lightroom and Apple Photos.  Finally, the way you import photographs into Lightroom on the iPad or iPhone is plain silly, but that’s really on Apple and we’re not going to get into file management on iOS because that’s a dead horse for now (until some future iOS iteration).

But the big reason was: “minimalism”. 

Over 2018 I started doing a deep dive into my life again. A significant breakup, several moves, and a job change made me evaluate everything. I adopted minimalism around 2009 when I started paring down my belongings and moved into a small loft apartment. When I moved to Rhode Island in 2011 I sold almost everything I owned then put an add on Craigslist to come get the rest for free and people swooped in en masse. I kept things lightweight as possible but things creep back in. My digital files were a mess. Papers kept following me around the country. When I lived on the Rez it was like Little House On The Prairie and I bought enough supplies and things to fix anything and felt I needed a lot of comforts. “Things” piled up. Tools, paint, gardening tools, furniture, home gym equipment, entertainment. By late 2016 I was maintaining 3 addresses over 3 states with homes and ‘stuff’ in all of them, a lot of it duplicated. Then I had to pack up all of the places and put them into storage and nothing makes you realize how crazy your life is than rampant disorganization, poor sleep, and putting your hands on every single thing you own. I literally started having recurring dreams about boxes of papers.

While I was traveling I couldn’t manage my physical things but I could manage my finances and digital assets. I was shocked by how many apps and pieces of software I owned or had a subscription to. I made the spreadsheet that showed monthly recurring charges and a lot showed up and were pared down. And this drew my eye to the Adobe subscription. It has jumped up from 9.99 a month to 19.99. 240 dollars a year every year. I can afford it and I use it aggressively but did I need it at that price?

iOS has become my main platform for doing everything. The iPhone alone can do most things you need and when you need the luxury of a bigger screen go to an iPad. When I watch or read reviews of any iPad people talk about how it can’t replace a computer and it makes me nuts. What does anyone do on a computer besides browse the web, shop, message your friends, watch YouTube and Netflix, and check email, and write (in that order)? iOS is fine for 99.99 percent of people except working graphics and video professionals, engineers, architects, and  medical professionals (because medical software is the worst on earth and just can’t function on anything except a 12 year old Windows PC). I find working on an iPad is far more efficient than working on a Mac both digitally and physically. The ergonomics of touch with a Smart Keyboard are just better than keyboard and mouse (there is a reason the keyboard is so short- it’s so you can reach the screen easily). I edit photos with a pencil. I manipulate windows and screens like Minority Report. When I want to read something my ‘computer’ turns into a book/magazine/comic book/magical future tablet. I believe that my next Mac upgrade will likely be the last traditional computer I ever buy.

That aside over when I evaluated my tools, a lot of software like Word and Ulysesss, Byword, Simplenote, Evernote and OneNote, were abandoned for free, excellent software that came with my devices. Notes and Pages took over drafting, writing, and note collection. iCloud Drive replaced Dropbox, Music replaced Spotify. It kept everything neat, my data and privacy were secure and organized in one place, and I took the time to master the software. Where I had limped along on Excel for decades, I buckled down and did the full Lynda.com Numbers course and for the first time spreadsheets stopped being mysterious things nerds used to optimize their lives and instead became easily accessible tools that helped me solved real problems. A lot of this was also pushed by many of the privacy concerns arising in digital ecosystems (Facebook, Google, apps sending data out that users are unaware of, etc.).

But besides managing my day to day life and writing what do I use my tech for?

 Photography.

 Could I get rid of all of these photo editing apps? I adore shooting and editing on my iPhone and I seriously considered selling all of my cameras and becoming an iPhone only photographer. But different working opportunities continue to present themselves and so I kept using ‘real’ cameras and instead focused on addressing the software. Snapseed left. It’s a terrific app but I can do everything in Snapseed with Lightroom, but better. And I don’t trust Google anyway. All of the other silly one off apps disappeared too. They were niche cases and often all I needed was to dig into Lightroom to figure out how to replace them. But could I replace Lightroom with free Apple software?

Aperture was discontinued by Apple in 2015 (and it was definitely not free). The people who fully embraced it loved it, probably in the way people love Final Cut Pro. It was a different beast than their consumer product iPhoto which most people were familiar with and used without issue, mostly for collecting their images but also for doing basic editing.  Apple replaced iPhoto with Photos (minimalism) with the emphasis on the iCloud Photos library and cataloguing. But on MacOS they were sneaking some Aperture features in on later releases like curves. It seemed like they were beefing up the Photos app for greater things and these features seemed to be mirrored onto the iOS versions of the app. With the release of the iPad Pro and the Apple Pencil it seemed like any week Apple would release some brushes but they didn’t. Instead you were stuck with very basic global edits (and of course stupid filters) and didn’t even have access to the MacOS features like HSL.

But you could open photos in other apps. Like Pixelmator for iOS. And... it didn’t work. It was a garbage dream and ultimately nothing was able to replace the features I used all the time in Lightroom CC, specifically: editing metadata, the gradient and radial filters, and dehaze. Add to that geometric perspective correction and the fact that on the Mac Lightroom CC was adding in Photoshop/Lightroom Classic features like panoramic merge and more.

When Pixelmator announced they were releasing a photography (vs graphic design) focused app, and that it was for the iPad I was thrilled. I signed up for email updates and trolled the web periodically for information. When it arrived (at the phenomenal price of 4.99) I had already preordered it. I downloaded it and got to work straight away. I love that it uses either Photos or Files for the catalogue (easier to manage and takes out a step used in Lightroom). And that’s it for the good. It uses Machine Learning. They want you to know that. They’ve pushed the hardware in the iPad. I believe it. But their big focus is on automagic edits and cropping, filter presets, and global edits. Honestly I can get that from Photos.app.

There are no brushes, no focal dodging and burning, no radial or gradient filters. It’s 2019, the iPad has this amazing Pencil, and neither Apple nor Pixelmator are taking advantage of it. If I cannot dodge or burn specific areas of a photograph, I am doing worse than I was in the chemical darkroom in 1997.

Photos.app needs to also beef up for me to use Pixelmator, specifically adding brushes and filters and one or the other needs to add the ability to batch edit photos.

In addition they need to add an iPhone app because I often edit only on my phone.  

 We’ll see what Pixelmator adds in the future.  I’m sure I’ll still be paying attention for some reason. 

Originally, about 6 months ago, this article was going to be about how I was going to switch from the yearly subscription of Adobe to Pixelmator but every time I tried to move my workflow over with serious photography I stuck with Lightroom CC because the tools are so strong.  Without those tools I’m not going to use another photo editor. And I know there are others like Affinity Photo. For some reason I’m not interested.  I just had this weird obsession with Pixelmator.

So that leaves me with what this article is about. I started deleting the original version of Pixelmator off of my iOS devices and Mac because I just don’t use it. Pixelmator became the thing to remove. It became an exercise of giving up the goat and not worrying so much about digital minimalism as using a tool that works and I that lets me be an artist.  When I’m working professionally I can’t imagine not using Lightroom. And I use Lightroom CC which is considered ‘light’ anyway (but that’s foolish and something I should address later if people want me to). They’ve also recently added the features I wanted like stitching panoramas so for me it’s feature complete. It’s just the duplication of catalogues, online space, and the monthly fee that drive me crazy.

I’ve been making attempts of various strength since 2012 to use versions of Pixelmator and I’m not sure why it has seemed so important to me. I don’t need to use an app that makes global edits to a photo when I need to brighten eyes or increase the contrast in select areas of landscapes. I just need to use Lightroom.

ART SCHOOL | RACHEL KATSTALLER

Inspired by traveling, architecture, seasonal fashion, and Nature, Austrian Alps based artist Rachel Katstaller's illustrations center around strong female figures and playful bold colors. With upcoming various book projects, including her first children’s book, Rachel balances her work and life with skateboarding, travel, as well as volunteering at her local animal shelter. We find out more about Rachel’s artistic process, her art school tip, and about some of her upcoming projects in 2018 – including her first board graphic! 

Make the Leap! 

Photographs by Florian Trattner

Introduce yourself?   Hi there! My name is Rachel Katstaller, and I’m an illustrator from a teeny tiny country in the Central American tropics. Two years ago I moved to the Austrian Alps with my Salvadorian street cat Hemingway, who terribly misses the palm trees and warm tropical weather back home.

Tell us a little about your illustrations.  How would you describe your work to someone who is just coming across it? My work centers around strong female figures and playful color palettes. These are deeply inspired by the vivid color combinations you can find when traveling in the tropics.

When did you first get into drawing?  Who were some of your early artistic influences? What artists inspire you these days? Ever since I picked up a pencil as a kid I’ve never stopped drawing, but I honestly never expected to be able to turn it into a career. I graduated and worked as a designer for a while, but it never really fulfilled me. Four years ago I decided to take the leap and pursue my real dream of becoming an illustrator. It’s been quite a ride with lots of ups and very low downs, but I’d never turn back!

My very earliest influences where definitely my grandparents, both architects who loved to make beautiful sketches of cities or oil paintings of Salvadorian market days. Also the gorgeous use of space and color by Miró counts as one of my earliest inspirations. Nowadays I find myself always checking out work by other wonderful illustrators and artists such as Carson Ellis, Tuesday Bassen and Cleon Peterson to name a few.

Take us through your artistic process? What’s a typical day in the studio like? Inspiration strikes at very strange times sometimes, so whenever I have an idea for a new illustration, I start working it through in my head, imagining shapes and colors. Once I get to the studio I most of the times just lay out the colors I want for the piece, sketch it and then get to work on the final art. It all sounds super easy and fast, but sometimes these ideas shape themselves through several days in my head until I finally see them clearly enough to put them to paper. Sometimes it feels like it takes forever! I’m a creature of habit and that’s why I try to have very regular office hours during the week. I’m the most motivated and creative in the mornings, or in the late afternoon so those hours are mainly reserved to paint and draw and dedicate myself to being creative. Afternoons I spend writing e-mails and planning out ideas, working on my online shop and mapping out personal projects. Before leaving I always make sure my workspace is clean and organized so that I have a blank slate to begin with the next day!

What are your essential art tools and materials? I love jumping from one medium to the other, it all depends on the project and client, as well as what feeling I wish to convey through my pieces. Of late I have loved combining gouache with colored pencil textures, as well as graphite. But I also love working digitally in Photoshop with my Wacom tablet, since this allows for mistakes to be easily corrected.

It’s mentioned that you’re currently living in the Alps. How has this environment or that city influenced the work you create?  What’s your favorite thing about residing there? Yes, I’ve been here for a bit now and I absolutely love it! Back in Central America we only have two seasons (rainy and dry), so actually being able to have four different seasons has been quite the experience. I love how the colors change over the course of the year, not only in nature but also in how people dress, it definitely influences my work. I also draw inspiration from architecture, which is so very different in every place I’ve visited. It’s a constant source of ideas. But what I think has been my favorite thing about living here has to be having taken up skateboarding. I’m a terrible skateboarder, almost deeply embarrassing so, but I try to get as much practice as I can. It’s led me to a wonderfully supportive group of girl skaters with whom I enjoy spending time with. They not only inspire my art but also motivate me to keep practicing and keep challenging myself to become better!

What was your last adventure that showed up in one of your illustrations, thematically or just visually? Maybe not my last but my favorite adventure was last year, when I went to Tromsø, Norway for the first time to see the northern lights. The whole 10 days I was there the sky was cloudy plus the full moon didn’t allow us to see anything! I was super disappointed about leaving without really having seen them. On our very last night there, my friends went to a party but I decided to stay home and go to bed early. I took a walk outside of the house and saw the northern lights just above me. It was such a magical experience and one that I will definitely never forget!

What advice would you give someone who wants to follow in your footsteps and pursue art? It is hard to give advice to others as I pretty much still feel really small and insignificant in the art and illustration world! It is easy to feel lost and as if what you do doesn’t really matter. What I’ve found has helped me to keep moving forward is to stay as true as I can to myself and my own journey as an artist. The work we do is a reflection of our inner selves, so as we grow, so does our art. Try to not look at others and compare yourself to them. Even if it sounds impossible at times, believe in yourself!

What’s your best Art School tip that you want to share with folks? I will have to second Martin Ontiveros and say that copying is not always the proper way to praise another artist’s work. Finding your voice as an artist is a long process and there are no shortcuts to get there. It’s totally ok to get inspired by other artists, but you are unique and your work should be too.

What’s been your biggest challenge career wise and how have you overcome it or how do you continue to persevere against these challenges? My biggest challenge as an illustrator so far has been keeping constantly inspired and motivated to create new work. Last year, after working really hard on some big projects, I found myself feeling completely empty of any good new ideas. Instead of taking a break, I just continued to push myself harder and getting more and more frustrated at myself for not delivering. This brought me close to burnout and it ended up becoming a vicious cycle of sorts. I’m slowly learning to listen to myself and understand that it’s ok to need breaks from work. I’ve realized how important time off is, how traveling helps me find new ideas and refreshing ways to see the world.

What are your favorite style of VANS? Definitely the Old Skool Pro, they combine comfiness with great style!

How are you not just ONE thing?  Illustration is a very lonely job, I spend hours cooped up in the studio working and concentrating on my things. That’s why I’m extremely grateful for skateboarding. It’s as much a relieve from work as it is a downtime to connect with others. Nothing compares to hanging out with my friends and challenging myself to try out new things. I’ve also found purpose in what I do when I find that my art connects or resonates with others, even when they’re hundreds of miles away. Central America still is going through major issues regarding women’s rights and it’s something that I like voicing through my work, in the hopes it reaches the right hearts and minds. I recently collaborated with the “No Estamos Todas” project in Mexico, illustrating a victim of femicide. It’s a horrible side of our reality back home, but one that needs to be talked about and put at the center of our attention. I’m also a cat mother and do volunteer work for the shelter where my cat comes from. I try to help out as much as I can through my work and give back to the community.

What’s coming up for you the rest of 2018? I’m as much excited as I am anxious about this year to be honest. I have some big book projects coming up, one of them being the first children’s book I also do the writing for! I’m also launching some skate related merch mid year, which will include my very first board graphic (keep checking my Insta for updates! :)). I can’t even explain how excited I am!

In between projects I hope to have some time to dedicate to myself and develop my art practice further, working on personal projects and just enjoying the process of creating! Thank you so much for interviewing me!

Follow Rachel | Website | Instagram | Shop | Las Furias

The current plan to Win-Win-Win

Unlike most peers I had always known how I am going to win in life, I wanted to be a 3-D Animator. In 3rd grade, most children had dreams such as Fire-Fighter, Nurse, Zookeeper, and Astronaut. Not Me I was sure what I was going to be. I wanted to create the movies I had fallen in love with. I set my goals and I have been working on them and giving my all. I was determined to “win” and create this animation career. I specifically choose to go to a high school called Jackson High school in Massilion Ohio because of their art department titled Jackson School of the Arts. After a lengthy application process and interview, I had gotten in and took multiple art courses. In my sophomore year, I had then applied to what is called the “Graphic Design and Animation Career Tech”. It was a two-year-old program that lasted for 4 periods, half of my class time. I would also have to travel 25 minutes every day to take this class. Again I worked, and I was fortunate to be accepted. I was Winning again and so excited, but this is when I hit my first loss.

Covid 2019 struck my Junior year of high school when I was supposed to be learning the beginnings of animation. Classes were pushed online, and my instructor couldn't teach animation. Many students, including me, did not have access to technologies in our homes to be able to learn animation. My teacher did the best she could and taught us the history ad techniques of the industry, but she could only do so much. So, I took matters into my own hands and saved up money, and for my birthday bought myself an art tablet to prepare a portfolio for college. I was winning again when I got accepted into the School of the Art Institute of Chicago with a $72,000 Scholarship.

However, this is when I start losing. I had learned that multiple animation professors had left while I was applying and this animation program I had prepared for years was not going to be successful for me. The classes were not industry standard and I realized because of many changes in the program SAIC was not a viable option. I had spent so much money getting settled into a brand-new city and prepared for so many years only for it to be failing. I was unsure if I could find another college, let alone afford another college. So now we get to the point where I formed my winning plan.

I found out I had to transfer on March 5th. I was absolutely devastated and heartbroken. I had invested so much into this opportunity only for it to fail. Many deadlines had already passed and were coming up for Fall 2022. I had spent two weeks non-stop securing applications, summer housing, interviews, a brand-new job to raise money, meetings with multiple colleges and people, and applying to multiple scholarships. I was not going to let this one mess up make me lose my dream and my vision, especially when I was so close. I spent hours every day doing research and making connections. Went as far as meeting professors at colleges and department heads. I was telling my story and making connections hoping for any chance.

Then I started winning-winning-winning. I was accepted into my dream school with an amazing program and was granted a Dean Scholarship award and a Scholars Merit Scholarship. My connections and hard work had paid off, but not fully. Although I had received scholarships I still had some ways to go, and I am still working hard. Although I have won some, I am still not done winning, and I am going to continue to work hard to make my dream, my goal, a reality. Hopefully, this Scholarship will do just that.