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hrts4wonu · 5 months

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minghaos who takes his time when drawing any portrait of you, making sure to get every detail of your beauty

a/n: oh my god jasmine??? i just started reading your fanfics last night and let me tell you, i was so damn obsessed; i'm not sure if this is a hard thought or anything but i did try to make it smut (with a little bit of fluff and comfort)

wc: 1.7k

today was like any other day. well, not technically. today was your boyfriend's project's due date. he was supposed to draw a portrait of the person that means a lot to him; though he first thought of his very own mother, he remembered the first few words you said when you met him.

(flashback)

those few sweet words that came out of your mouth like it was nothing; "i love your artstyle, maybe you should draw your future girlfriend, yeah?" you chuckle as he turned to look at you. "pardon?" he says, a little confused.

"i'm talking about me, hao." he laughs at your straightforwardness and displays a warm smile at you while he remains seated.

you laugh along comfortably, sitting next to him while staring at the canvas that was filled with colorful strokes of red, orange, yellow, blue and pink. "you assume too much, don't y'think?" he teased as he cups your cheeks, tucking your hair behind your ear. "well, you never know, do you?" both of you chuckle together before he picks up his paintbrush and finishes his artwork.

(end of flashback)

that was long ago, yet, the memory itself never fails to melt his heart. though, he couldn't deny; he has drew you before. a couple of times actually.

the problem was, all of them just seemed bad to him. he doodled and sketched your face everyday in class; thinking that everytime he drew you with a different pen or pencil, his sketches get more terrible each day. (and yet he still managed to get good grades even though he doesn't pay attention in class because he's always drawing you)

and so, he never showed you, until you found his sketchbook in his room on your 5th monthsary. he was pretty embarrassed about it, but your praises on his drawings were enough to boost his ego and confidence.

while he quietly sits down on his chair, staring into his computer, he slowly turns to look at you with a nervous smile on his face.

"darling," he starts off, standing up and approaching you on the bed. you hum in response, dropping your phone and looking back at him. "do you want to become my reference? it's for an art project."

you nod, changing your position on the bed. "what do you need me to wear? a dress, or--"

"need you nude, baby." the temptation from his voice was enough to electrify something inside of you; feeling a bit flustered from what he said. "..if you're comfortable with it, of course. i wouldn't want to make myself look like i'm into creepy things like this, yeah?" he adds. "if you really don't wanna, it's fi--"

"mm." you shook your head no. "it's fine," though it seemed aberrant to minghao (because of how much of a gentleman he is), the longing ache in you was basically killing you.

a few minutes later, you slowly got out of the bathroom with a robe on. you were nervous of him judging you, the way your body was built, your skin tone, or maybe that was just your neediness that's getting to you.

he puts on a smile and gives you a warm hug, "take it off when you're ready, hm?" minghao whispers in your ear, leaving a small kiss.

you nod, "yeah."

minghao slowly lets go and stands behind his canvas; squeezing out all the paint onto his palette. he quickly grabs his paintbrush and starts speaking up once more, "hey," he sat down on the tiny chair. "there's still time to back out if you're really not into thi--"

"minghao? is there something wrong?" you throw your robe to the side, crossing your arms which squished your tits from below a bit.

he shook his head, "no, not at all." he looks away and focuses back on his canvas.

minghao couldn't help but stare at you for a bit longer, he didn't know what to say or do at all. it's not like there is a problem- it's that you're there, with no clothes on, and you're on full display.

but besides that, you're gorgeous.

absolutely admirable and so, so, so, so, so beautiful. to him and only him. maybe even to the whole world.

countless hours pass by and minghao was finally done with his work, "baby?" he stands up and dusts his hands off.

"did you fall aslee- oh." you quietly let out muffled moans as you try fingering yourself on the sofa; if only you could see the greed and devotion in his eyes while he painted your figure, he would've dropped his paintbrushes to the floor and take care of you already.

the sweet smile on his face disappears and instead turns into a wicked yet sinister smirk.

minghao cups your cheeks. "let me help you baby, yeah?" he coos, crouching down to give you a soft kiss on the lips before falling onto his knees.

"p-please.." you beg, withdrawing your hand from your pussy but before you could wipe it on the couch, minghao grabs it and slides it in his mouth, licking your small digits that were unlike his long, veiny hands. "hao.." you whine at the sight.

"what is it, pretty girl?" he places his hands on both of your thighs, spreading them apart. "need me?"

you nod. "i've been longing, hao."

he starts kissing your inner thighs; wet lips enough to get you even wetter than you were 10 seconds ago. though your legs were now resting on his shoulder, he still had a firm grasp on them. his nails dug onto your skin, leaving temporary crescent-shaped nail marks onto them.

"so have i, darling." he replies, leaning in towards your pussy, his nose bumping with your clit.

you whine when you feel the pleasure; it's overwhelming, yes, but it feels so good that you can't even utter a single word. not even a single one, the only thing you can let out is a moan.

he licks your pussy's lips and starts eating you out, the sweet taste not leaving his tongue. "f..fuck, hao,"

"mind your language or i'm gonna leave you aching on this sofa, y/n." he threatens and you slightly look away in embarrassment when you saw his bloodthirsty eyes darken in lust. "you wouldn't want that, would you?" he leans back, away from you as the wind's cold breeze comes in contact with your skin.

you shook your head no gently, replying to his question. "well, it's not like you could ever leave me hanging like that, hao." you tease.

he scoffs; "there's always a first time for everything, sweetheart. you should know that." he stood up and quickly switches your position in missionary, pinning you down on the sofa and pressing your legs against your chest and his.

"but, hey." you look at him in confusion as he unzips his pants and pulls his cock out. it was long and veiny, t'was so outstanding and beautiful. something so out of this world. "contrary to what mingyu said before," he breathes, fixing his position on top of you as he leans close enough to your ear. "most of the greatest works of art don't know how great they are not because they're unreal, instead, it's because they don't see the talent in the artist's eyes that were enough to make the painting as appealing as it already is." his hot breath against your ear makes you tremble, "you're just like an artwork, you know?" he teases.

"really?" he nods. "you think so?" your cute puppy eyes, begging and pleading for his angry, red tip was enough to send him to the edge but as punishment, he will make you wait longer.

after a few more minutes of teasing, he finally gives in and thrusts inside of you.

you moan loudly, holding onto his body, yet it seemed so unfair because you were basically naked and he still had his shirt on. "mm.." he looks at you, stopping his thrusting as he felt a little confused.

"what is it, hm?" you slowly tug at his shirt and he finally gets it. "ah, i see." he smirks and takes his shirt off.

he goes back to thrusting inside of you and you let out another moan, "m-mmh!"; he grunts as he thrusts even harder, not stopping for even a breath.

you squirm, putting your hand over your mouth to keep your mouth shut yet you can't help yourself but moan even louder. he notices this and he stops for a moment, leaving you hanging which made you ache for more (though it's not like he could pull out because your pussy was basically sucking him back in), grabbing your hand pinning them over your head as he fucks into you.

"h..hao!" you moan loudly as you felt him hitting that 'sweet spot' inside of you. "hao.." you breathe, starting to pant as your legs start trembling. "i-.. i'm so close.." you whine continuously as his hand lets go of your wrists, traveling down to your nipples.

he rubs them gently, leaning in and licking them clean. minghao does the same for the other breast making you moan and yearn for more;

"i..i'm gonna cum, please.." you beg.

"please what, baby?" he smirks, pulling his lips away from your lips and staring into your doe eyes. "tell me," he starts. "tell me what you need, i'll give you everything. every single thing just for you, my lovely, pretty girl."

you look at him with desire and thirst. "need to cum, please.."

everything was testing him; no, no, no.. that's not the right word, is it? let's try that again-- everything was arousing him. it felt like you were tormenting eachother using their own bodies. everything was so tempting to him, he couldn't help but give in; "cum for me, princess," he says with a smirk on his face. "do it, make me proud, okay?"

it wasn't that long until you reach your climax and you came on his cock. he helps you ride your orgasm until he reaches his, planting his seed inside of you.

the both of you catch your breathes together before he pulls out of you and places a warm, loving kiss on your temple; "come on, let's clean you up, hm?" despite being exhausted, you shot him a smile and he stood up, carrying you to the bathroom to clean you up. "mhm.." you manage to say, still trying to catch your breath from what had just happened.

"hao, i love you." you say, with a smile on your face as you return his kiss back, instead, this time it was on his lips. "i love you too, baby."

a/n 2: sorry this took so long,, i had work and i was slightly busy.. but anyways, i'm FINALLY done! it didn't turn out how i expected it to be yet i still think it's a little better than what i usually write. besides that, i'm really, really glad to make a minghao fanfic so please ask / request for more <3

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frobin · 3 years

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Okey serious question here. How much do you actually believe that Oda ships Frobin? Like do you think he actually have like doodles/sketchs of them in a pairing kind of way? like for the strong world film riding the motorbug? (Personally i would love it to be true but he has stated one piece isn't about romance in that way)

Hey there anon! Thank you so much for your question and I hope I can answer it seriously enough. Also once more sorry for the late response. I felt like a question like that needs some research and that is what I did these last few days.

So... I think I'll start with the tl;dr because that way people can read that and ignore the rest.

So, long answer short: I 100% believe that Oda has one or more sketchbooks with drawings of his characters that are absolutely self-indulgent. I am 98% sure that he has drawn Franky and Robin in a romantic way at least once (and supported the ship). I am 80% sure he still is shipping FRobin.

Little disclaimer: I actually have no idea if any of this is true. I pull everything in my arguments out of my own experiences and knowledge and since I'm not a 46 year old Japanese Mangaka my perspective might be WAY OFF.

argument - reason- example - conclusion... behind the cut (or in the google doc)

So, why do I think that Oda has a secret sketchbook?

Simple answer is that he is an artist. He is drawing a lot and no artist will publish everything. That can have multiple reasons like imposter syndrome or because the artist thinks it’s not good or interesting enough or they just forget. There are even more reasons I forget and every person has their own.

For Oda I can imagine two big reasons as to why he would keep secret sketchbooks.

First: He is a horndog. You can skip this part if you don’t want to read about it, to the second reason.

Anyway, we know thanks to answers in the SBS, the way he likes to draw big-breasted women and how some of his characters are classified as perverts that he can be considered one too.

Let me show you a few of a few lewd SBS questions he likes to answer in a funny way:

Chapter 228, Page 46

D: How are ya, Odacchi? I know how much you like getting butt-naked, so this must be a favourite season for you. <3

O: Yes, yes. I just LOVE getting completely naked. In the summertime, after I take a bath I just run STRAIGHT OUTSIDE!! And when the girls' softball team running on the sidewalk looks over at me, they say, "Yup, it's really summer now!!" ... AS IF!! I'D GET ARRESTED!!!

(x)

Chapter 433, Page 68

D: If Lady Robin can use her Hana Hana Powers to make any part of her body sprout somewhere else, does that mean she can do it with her ample bosom as well? "Nyurin-zaki" (Breast Sprout) Boy, I'd like to take a hit from that sometime... P.N. Ero Ero no Mi Devil Fruit User.

O: "Ichirin-zaki" (Single Sprout) "Nirin-zaki" (Double Sprout) "Nyurin-zaki" (Breast Sprout) Very clever!! NO IT'S NOT!! STOP THAT!! I'm sure she CAN do it though ♡

(x)

Chapter 798, Page 64

D: Oddachi, I'll give you a pornographic book, so please answer my question. Sanji won't allow anyone to waste food, but what will he do if a woman does so? P.N. Smoker's Cigar

O: I think he would grab the plate and eat it up. Now please give me the pornographic book.

(x)

Nowadays I’m sure there is a focus on those lewder questions compared to the beginning because that is what 13 year old boys laugh about and we all know that is Oda's main demographic (of course).

I think a very good picture of that is given by Tekking101 in his breakdown video of SBS Volume 100.

youtube

“Let’s get diving into these questions (...) now, this is a huge moment. I mean, not many Manga manage to reach 100 Volumes, Okay? Now I know Oda usually starts these off with questions relating to boobs and things that don’t really… you know, aren’t really relevant but you know, this is a big celebration so we’re gonna dive right into it. I bet the most important things that we need to know about the One Piece Story are right here in these pages, okay? I printed them out. That is how important this is. So let’s start off, shall we? Epic voice, Barry!

‘Mister Oda, there is a UFO over there with huge big-breasted beauties on it. That memorable 100 Volume of the SBS is about to begin.’

[pause] Yeah, like the first five of these are all related to boobs in some way. You know what Oda? Sticking true to your guns! Godspeed, Sir Oda. Godspeed.”

(end at around 2:30)

So, Oda is a man who likes beautiful women and who draws.

Coming to the conclusion that he will draw his own characters in suggestive poses, naked and even doing adult stuff is not hard.

Obviously he would not show these sketches just around. He would probably keep them in a secret sketchbook that he keeps at a safe location. Maybe his wife and some close friends know about it? Maybe it is his and only his little secret.

I don’t think it would be unlikely to learn about this years into the future, maybe the next generation of Anime Fans will hear about this.

And it would not be the first time that something like this happened.

Not that long ago the daughter of Osamu Tezuka - groundbreaking Mangaka, known for his works of “Astro Boy”, “Kimba the white lion” and many more - found his adult Furry art. Source; Japanese article;

It’s a fact that many Mangaka did indeed start their career with art of the more risque kind and/or as doujinshi artists.

So again, I have no doubt that Oda, a known pervert, has one or more secret sketchbooks with „the p0rnography“ in it. Is there only hot stuff in there? Not necessarily.

The second reason to keep a secret sketchbook would be to collect information in there, that could be considered canon but he is not willing to use it in the Manga. Maybe they are not important enough or will be used later.

What am I imagining here? Anything that could be considered too weird for the normal sketchbook but isn‘t too risque. Funny things that might still not be „appropriate.“

Like a sketch of the male Strawhat ding-dongs with the sizes beside it. All the lewd jokes the fans did about Luffy's stretching qualities? I’m sure Oda thought about them too and drew that in the past if he had the time and it made him laugh enough.

But also maybe there are scenes in there that never made it in the Manga. The Strawhats interacting with each other in their daily lives, ideas for colorspreads and maybe chapter-titles. Oda probably has noted/sketched down a lot of unofficial stuff somewhere.

Another example, even an artist like Oda himself would have needed to exercise drawing two people kissing. Why not use Characters he thinks that might work out together?

Why not Franky and Robin? I would imagine he sketched up a few panels of Franky and Robin having a romantic date, going shopping together in Dressrosa, having a conversation that we never got to see because it was too on the nose.

Which brings us to the second point of me being very sure that Oda had drawn FrankyXRobin at one point.

I’m sure in those sketchbooks there is at least one drawing of them doing anything couple-related together. Again it does not have to be downright nasty but it could be them holding hands, kissing or even just Robin leaning onto Franky while reading, like all those fanarts that exist out there.

It’s not hard to imagine. Even for other Characters I think that is possible

And there might even be proof for that idea. The sketch of the Strong World movie you also mentioned, anon. The one movie that can be considered canon is Strong World. It was basically written/directed by Oda. Shiki the antagonist had an appearance in the Manga.

This sketch is drawn by Oda. Robin is holding onto Franky.

Can it be read as romantic? Yes. Can it be read as Robin holding onto Franky because there is nothing else to hold onto? Also Yes. But couldn't she just have used her power to keep herself secured on the bike without holding onto Franky? WELL YES. Could Oda never have thought in these circles like I do right now? I hope he did not because I hate it and I don’t wish it upon him.

In the movie Robin is NOT holding onto Franky. Now the really interesting thing - that is neither proof pro nor anti FRobin - is that we can see the sketch provided by Oda as a “between the scenes”.

In the movie Strong World the old trio is collecting information at the Pirate assembly. The next time we see them they use the Batta GT-7000 to slowly approach the destroyed village, which had been ravaged by the animals, and start to look for their friends. No need to hold onto Franky and no need for Brook to lean back. They are looking around.

The sketch is clearly not the same scene as the one we see in the movie.

In conclusion the drawing is indeed a between the scenes drawing. And yes if there exists one, who is to say there aren’t more?

Talking about Animal-Bikes...

Is there any meaning about the fact that in the opening scene (that is part of the talked intro after the opening ‘We Go’ - a huge thanks to antiherofangirl, ccb0nnet, JFL_Estudios and Maems, over at twitter!) Franky and Robin build another grasshopper-based vehicle? Maybe not but I still feel like it’s quite a callback.

Where did the idea to put this in the beginning come from? a) an editor had the idea inspired by Strong World; b) maybe it’s another sketch that Oda provided.

Neither seems very far-fetched in my opinion.

So yes, I am very sure that Oda has drawn things that we would consider FRobin.

Now to the last point (the first being Oda having a secret sketchbook, the second me arguing that Oda might have drawn FRobin).

As I said in the beginning I’m very sure that at one point Oda did and kinda that he still does ship Franky and Robin. Because even though every Interaction of two characters can be depicted as romantic or platonic, Oda used ROMANTIC TROPES with Franky and Robin.

They have never kissed on screen but we had

finishing each other's sentences

coordinated clothes

one using the others lap as pillow

hand on cheek caressing

and we can’t forget that Robin had answered Franky's invitation to ride on another animal-themed bike with a heart.

Edit: I didn‘t say anything about „no romance in OP“ so ask again if you want me to talk a bit about that. Sorry!

Those are things an author of Oda's level would not write or draw without being aware about how teasing this is. He has to be aware that every single line he draws will be analyzed to the end of the universe and back. People earn money by saying their opinion and interpretations about the Manga on Youtube.

These interactions are not something outlandish like “There was once an Anime Scene in which Robin was wearing something blue and exactly 28 episodes later Franky was wearing something violet and then 39 episodes later they both stood beside each other for exactly 69 seconds.”

Whenever I think about these facts, things that are not about interpreting but are factual, black ink on white paper but also about the little things, about how Frank and Robin help each other to become better, how they support each other… I want to say YES! ODA IS 100% on board! While in reality I’m 80% sure and 20% of me is wondering if I’m not actually analyzing too much into it. If maybe he really is abandoning ship. Maybe I will become the person who will curse his name and throw my Mangas and fanfictions in an active volcano?

I don’t know and it’s impossible to say what is going to happen.

And with that I've concluded this answer, and it only took me around 2k words and four days.

#FRobin #One Piece #One Piece Meta #Odas secret sketchbook #One Piece analysis #Adult themes #Notreally Frobin #long post #2k words #ask #modpost #kon #boy this was something #sorry about any mistakes

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frecklystars · 3 years

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Do you have any advice for convincing yourself that a comfort character would like you? I know its fiction and I can do whatever I want and have fun, but there is still a part of me that doubts that my comfort character would like me. Especially since they are a villain.

Ohh, villains are my specialty, babe! ( •̀ ω •́ )✧ I gotchu!!

Almost all of my main F/Os are villains, and I do have my doubts sometimes that they'd like me, too! It's a normal feeling, don't worry - I'm pretty sure most of the community has this same type of insecurity/anxiety, as well. You're not alone!

Here's what helps me the most:

💘 Making content! I do a lot of digital art, and if I'm feeling insecure abt a specific F/O, I'll draw them kissing me, holding my hand, giving me validation, whatever! It doesn't have to be big or grand, you can also just take a little post-it note and draw your F/O giving you a kiss on the forehead, or even just saying "I love you!" Make a bunch of tiny little half-assed scribbles on a sketchbook page. Don't even worry about the lines coming out perfect, or colors or shading or anything, just... let your heart have some fun! Time yourself, draw as many different cheesy things as you can in under five minutes. I actually bought a little tiny sketchbook no bigger than the palm of my hand for occasions like this!

On the topic of drawing, you can also take a screenshot of your F/O (if your F/O is from a movie/TV show, that is) and doodle yourself next to them, in your favorite scene!

🧡 If you don't like to draw, however, you can also try writing! Writing little drabbles, even if it's just like, three sentences in the Notes app on your phone. I write little oneshots all the time, some of them barely even five paragraphs!

💛 Write your own "imagine your F/O" posts, but just for yourself! You don't have to post them necessarily, but just make a bullet-point list of scenarios/daydreams you have with your F/O! :D For example, I have over five hundreddd daydream scenarios written down in my phone, in case if I ever want to draw them. I don't HAVE to draw them, but I sure do love reading them. It makes me feel love for my F/O, and makes me feel loved by my F/O in return! They don't even have to be complicated, it can just be like "F/O and S/I are stuck in the rain. F/O shares their umbrella with S/I" or "F/O and S/I hold hands in a crowd so they don't get lost"!

💚 Looking at the content you create can remind you of how good you feel when you think about your comfort character, and then you think to yourself that the love/safety that you feel in that moment, is the same feeling your F/O has about you!! I'll often look at older drawings of me and Plankton and think "oh I was in a good mood when I drew this, all that time ago, I really felt like he loved me, here" and then I am reminded of that Good Feeling and I'm like "hell yea, Plankton loves me so much!!"

💙 One thing that helps me the most, especially on REALLY rough nights: PLAYLISTS!!! Listen to songs that remind you of your F/O!!! Listen to a song that you think they'd sing to you. When I have my doubts that Starscream would love me, I just listen to "Temporary Love" or "Imagine" by Ben Platt (since those are the StarKeri theme songs), or I turn on my Saving Starlight playlist, and I am right back on track! It might take a few songs, especially on a bad day when you're convinced your F/O can't love you. At least once or twice a week, I get in my car around midnight, and I drive down the highway for a couple of hours, and I listen to my TFP playlist, full of all the songs that I think my TFP F/Os would associate with me. It's about two hours long and it always makes me feel better. Hell, there are even times when I'll be driving and I'll listen to my Starscream playlist and actually get misty-eyed because I feel so loved, in those moments.

💜 You can also make a list of things about yourself that you think your F/Os would love about you! It might be hard to sit and list "here are things I like about myself," but it's easier to imagine "oh, well, I think F/O would love my personality, or [insert talent/skill], and also [insert physical feature], or even [insert habit/mannerism]". Your F/Os adore everything about you, it's unconditional, no matter how big or small!!

💝 Watching their episodes!! There's always, ALWAYS, a way to write a character doing something, react a certain way, dynamics w/ different characters... you can make ANYTHING "in character", yes, even for villains! Starscream, for example, is such a... terrible, terrible person, no altruism in this mech at all, he has ZERO positive relationships w/ people, and he's bitter and wouldn't hesitate to betray anyone if it means he can climb to the top. He also, um, hates humans. Does that stop me from self shipping w/ him? Hell no, man!! If anything, my human s/i is the one exception! Your villain F/O could be like "I hate everyone, I hate everything, I have no love in my soul" and they'd take one look at you and say "EXCEPT for this person. I LOVE this person, this is MY person, NOBODY ELSE EVEN LOOK AT THIS PERSON, THEY ARE MINE."

💖 I once read a post saying "your F/O's canon source material is just their universe, without you in it." If your self insert was in their universe, everything would change. Relationships, dynamics, decisions, even life-or-death situations, would ALL change. It's not "out of character" for your F/O to love you, because there is ALWAYS an in-character way to squeeze anything you want in there. Yes, it's fiction, and you can do whatever you want and have fun, but I agree with what you said, how it's a bit easier to believe if it's more "in character", and I totally get that. I try to make Starscream as in character as possible, with my ship. Megatron, on the other hand, I just make the guy drop to his knees and beg for my attention lmao. Is it in character? Absolutely not. He's the last character to do that. Do I make him do it anyway? Yes. Have I written it enough times that I actually believe he'd do it? Hell yeah.

Of course, these things might not work overnight, but they could really help!!! Self shipping is quite literally all up to you; you have full control over the aspects of your relationship and how you're treated. I know it also feels important to some people (myself included!) to keep them, (especially a villain F/O!!), as "in character" as possible so it feels more authentic -- but the more you familiarize yourself with a character and the idea of them loving you, the more you come to believe it!

Persistence is key!! You just gotta keep telling yourself that they love you -- self shipping is self love, after all! It's hard to believe your comfort character could love you, if you don't love yourself. I struggle with this, too, so I totally understand. And hey! Look at you, already trying your best and reaching out to me about it! Your F/O would be so proud of that, wouldn't they? They'd feel so special that you care so much!! Your comfort character, really, REALLY loves you - all you gotta do now is love yourself!!

I hope any of these helped, I'm sorry this list got so long and my brain kind of jumps everywhere. I hope this made sense, please feel free to reach out to me again if you want me to explain anything in a different way, or if you just want further reassurance! (o゜▽゜)o☆

#anonymous #asks #self insert asks #im so happy you reached out to me btw thank you!#im so honored any time someone asks for my advice #bc i dont think im super great at giving it or at least delivering My Thoughts #I have the advice it's here in my brain. but I don't know how to Word It sometimes #I rly rly hope this helps!!!#your villain comfort character loves you SO MUCH I promise!! :D #if Starscream can have feelings for me then your villain can DEFINITELY have feelings for YOU!!#just because you don't think they'd love you doesn't mean that it's true!#they love you whether you feel it or not. it's there!! all the love and adoration for u!!

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foreveralwaysanauthor · 3 years

Text

I Could Be Every Color You Like

October 3, 2021

Prompt - Full of Colors

Characters - Bentley and various others

Notes - This gave me so many ideas for one-shots.

“Why does that kid like art so much?”

He'd heard that question a lot over the years. It was a simple question and, to be frank, not many knew the answer. The youngest of the Murphy brothers was a chatty fourteen-year-old who was usually seen holding a pen or marker to something. It was only natural that people asked questions, he supposed. It wasn’t normal for people to walk around, drawing everything in sight, but that’s just the way Bentley was.

Bentley was an enthusiastic artist and had been for as long as he could remember. Of course, he usually did so for fun, coloring on napkins and such, but his art was always meticulously done. He’d learned to draw from his mom when he was really little. Miles recalled once that Bentley had drawn all over one of their bedroom walls when he was three, but his mom was so happy with how it looked that she refused to wash it off or paint over it. Bentley was just an artist through and through - it was what he was good at.

In school, the teachers that knew Miles and Royce expected Bentley to be just like one or both of them. First was the oldest - Miles, the hardworking, above-average student who had excellent manners and was part of both the automotive department and the school newspaper before graduating early. Then came Royce, the kid with straight A’s since kindergarten who spent most of his free time studying in the library or writing in a journal. But, when Bentley came along, their expectations went out the window.

Bentley was far more artistic than his brothers, doodling in the margins of his paperwork and turning it in, only to receive a note from the teachers, telling him to please stop. While he kept his grades up, even after Miles left for Florida, he could never seem to meet the precedent set forth by his brothers. His teachers tried to talk with his father about his attention problems and constant drawing, but the man never answered the phone. When he did, he’d answer in the same manner every time before hanging up - “Did he kill someone? No? Then leave me the hell alone.” After a while, the teachers stopped caring as much and left him alone, which was nice.

The only teacher he’d liked was Mr. Samuel Hatfield, his art teacher in middle school. The man was a giant at six foot seven but had the biggest heart in the building. He took his time with each of his students, making sure they understood what concepts he was teaching them and could handle their own. For once, Bentley could claim the position of teacher’s pet with pride. The teacher took pride in Bentley’s artwork, using them as examples for other classes and, occasionally, the upperclassmen who needed encouragement.

It felt good to be appreciated.

So, when Royce whispered to him one night in the confines of their bedroom that they’d set aside enough money to move in with their older brother, he felt torn. He desperately wanted to move in with Miles, far away from their father, but he also wanted to stay so he could continue feeling special for his art. It was all he felt he was good at and he loved feeling important, but his love for his brother outweighed that a million times over so his decision was nearly instantaneous.

The next day, after working his busboy job at the diner on the edge of Main Street, he took off on his bicycle for the art shop next to the library, using his collective tip money for the day - a whopping seven dollars and fifty-four cents, nearly triple what he usually got - to buy a small sketchbook and a discounted paint set. The rest of his money, he planned on pocketing. He and Royce would be leaving soon anyway, what did it matter what he spent the extra cash on now?”

The cashier frowned at Bentley as he counted his money, coming up just a couple of quarters short. He sighed, debating on which item he wanted to buy more. Just then, the door jingled next to him and he instinctively looked up, meeting gazes with his art teacher.

“Hi, Mr. Hatfield,” Bentley greeted quickly before turning back to his purchase.

“Well if it isn’t Bentley Murphy,” the art teacher greeted. “Why am I not surprised to see you here. Buying anything good, kiddo?”

“A goodbye gift,” Bentley claimed with a grin. “My brother and I are leaving town to be with our big brother.”

“Ah,” Mr. Hatfield exhaled. “Is this a gift for your dad or your older brother?”

“Nope,” Bentley exclaimed. “This is for me. Something to remember Myrtle Beach, I guess.”

The teacher nodded slowly, taking in the information as Bentley spoke. “So, where does your older brother live again?”

‘Uh oh. Too much info,’ Bentley thought to himself. ‘Don’t get caught. They’ll call the cops if they know where we’re really going. Be smart like RJ. Think, think, think.’

“California,” he lied in feigned excitement, sending his teacher a brilliant smile. “He moved there a couple years ago to be with a girl he liked who moved to Los Angeles.”

The teacher nodded again and smiled. “Well, since this is a parting gift, I’ll cover it, kid.” The man reached into his pocket and pulled out a wallet.

“Actually,” Bentley began, “I think I’ll put the paint back-”

“Leave it, Mr. Murphy,” Mr. Hatfield stated firmly, setting down some money. “It's just some paint. I have no problem helping you to further your talents. Save your cash for spending time with your brother.”

The cashier took the money from Mr. Hatfield and bagged Bentley’s items before handing them to the fourteen-year-old. Bentley and the man said their goodbyes before Bentley went outside and hopped on his bike, riding quickly toward home. When he arrived home and found only Royce there, the two boys packed their bags and left not long after, leaving only a simple note in their place. The next fifteen or so hours were spent biking to their Uncle Tommy’s house - a man who had despised his sister’s husband since he’d met the man and had been encouraging the boys to leave. Once they arrived, they took the man’s car - with his permission and knowledge, of course - and took off for Florida. Ten hours later, they arrived pulled into the town, a sign with bold letters saying “Welcome to St. Pete Beach” being their only welcoming committee.

Royce pulled Uncle Tommy’s car into what they believed was Miles’ address, if his letters were anything to go by. They got out of the car and knocked on the door a few times before anyone answered. It was just barely eight in the morning so it wasn’t unexpected, but the anticipation was killing them slowly. Bentley was mildly surprised to see his oldest brother - who looked like he was just woken up by them - whip open the door, wiping his eyes a few times before pulling them both into a tight hug. They were shown to their room, finding it decked out in just about anything Miles had found that he’d thought they would like. To Bentley’s surprise, a brand new art book and some canvases were laid out on his bed, accompanied by various types of paints, markers, and pencils.

Their brother’s friends became family to them and they were accepted fairly quickly. Lela set aside time every day just to paint with him on the beach. Mick would teach him and his brothers photography in her spare time. Butchy took him and Royce for walks to the park so Royce could write in peace while Bentley drew in his sketchbook. Tanner took him to an art gallery on the edge of town just for fun. It was like being an artist was something to be proud of. Like there wasn’t any competition to have better grades or better abilities. It was an air of tranquility that the fourteen-year-old hadn’t felt since his mom approved of his artwork as a kid.

Over time, he began noticing the colors of people he spent the most time with. Whether it was the color of their eyes or in the things they surrounded themselves with or their favorite colors, Bentley saw them each in a different light. If he said them out loud, it would make sense to absolutely no one, but that was fine by him. He made sure it came across in his artwork instead of in his words.

For instance, Miles gave off rays of baby blue with a hint of red - calmness, safety, and love - so those were the colors Bentley used to draw his oldest brother with most. Royce was a brilliant, sunset orange - smart, vibrant, and playful - and it suited the middle brother better than he ever cared to admit. Mick and Butchy together were green with dashes of lavender, a colorful combination of love, strength, and balance - a source of protection and love that was unending and reliable. Lela was pale pink, full of innocent love for those around her.

So, when asked why he loved art so much, Bentley had only one answer to give: the colors.

#foreveralwaysprompts #writing #writing prompt

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ravenwolfie97 · 3 years

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2020 Art Summary

Yep, it’s 2021 already. 2020 is finally over. It felt like it lasted forever, and it felt like the end would never come, but here we are. Crazy how the time flew by.

I felt like I didn’t get much art done this year because of Current World Event, but I made a lot more than I thought I did. Even some of my new favorite pieces came out of this year, so I think that’s worth celebrating and looking back upon!

I was insanely productive during the first month of 2020, and looking back I was surprised at all the stuff I did, but then I remembered that that winter season was actually one of the best times of my life! I started being more socially involved, and I think my newfound drive at the time translated into all the art I pumped out this month. This is just a small fraction of what I made in January, but I only have so much space. Quite a few complex pieces in both style exploration and polishing my own style.

Apparently February was a rather intimate month. Things began to slow down in terms of my own art here, with me spending more time in social settings and school work ramping up, I didn’t have as much time to coop up in my room to draw. I did wanna do something for a friend’s Valentine’s Day OC art challenge, so I drew my lovey-dovey couple from Dance of 1000 Words havin’ a dance. Nothing actually came of that challenge, but it was fun to do regardless.

One of the things I was most proud of in the winter season was making more friends, and one of the closest friends I made was completely coincidental. I met a person named Kiri on the bus one night I decided to volunteer somewhere by myself, and we ended up chatting and getting along. They quickly told me their tumblr username, and I shot them a message immediately after they left. A couple days later, we met up for brunch, and we started becoming really close friends and creative partners!

Not much else happened in March cuz that’s when Current World Event started becoming an issue, but Kiri and I still kept in close touch and we randomly started developing a concept for a Pokemon Mystery Dungeon: Galar Edition. These are a handful of characters we thought up, with Skipper the Scorbunny and Dross the Dreepy as the main characters, Morgrem as the main antagonist, and some shopkeepers such as those of the Greedent Bank and the Indeedee General Store. This was also my first time drawing all of these Galar Pokemon (except Scorbunny, but I also made Skipper a bit more unique than a regular Scorbunny).

Lots of events happened this month. First of all, Steven Universe Future ended, one of my favorite and most influential shows was no longer continuing. I had to do something as tribute, both as a send-off to one of the greatest cartoons in the world and as a cathartic release for my feelings towards it.

A while later, I got the opportunity to start playing an MMO in beta called Fer.al, by the same people who made Animal Jam, which coincidentally I had also beta tested for back in the day. I ended up getting really attached to my first character, a Senri I named Sasha, and though I’ve made more characters than them since, they’re still my absolute favorite. Though I haven’t touched the game in a few months, I was really engrossed for a long time and enjoyed playing through the beta and early access phases.

At the end of the month, some friends of mine invited to a roleplay group with some mutuals, and we all played characters in a crime syndicate. Just a bunch of ragtag thieves and criminals who ended up together in order to protect an artifact called the Crown of Thieves, which was essentially a flag to be taken by other groups to prove that they are the best thieves in the land. My character was based heavily on my sona (if it wasn’t obvious) and was also influenced by Cloud Strife, since the FFVII Remake had just come out and I was super into watching the cutscenes at the time. My character’s (code)name is Valkyrie, and they are a mercenary, going between multiple different employers to carry out whatever duties they need to do. They have a more complicated backstory, but presently they were recently hired by recommendation of their friend Shark (played by @shmoots-universe who is also My friend now ily maya) who works with a group called the Court Cards who are currently in possession of the Crown of Thieves. Valk never really had a place to call home, but staying with this group of people had to be the closest they could get to that feeling. They still sleep with a knife under their pillow because of trust issue but that’s okay.

Okay, so technically these examples started in April, but I continued making content with them in May, and the month was just pretty void of art in general, so here I am addressing them.

There were two main things I worked on this month: a Steven Universe AU of my own and the whole #sixfanarts thing that kicked off around then. Let’s start with the fanart bits. I did two and a half of them (six in April and nine in May), and it was so much fun to be able to draw stuff I don’t normally do! My personal favorites are shown here: Blake Belladonna from RWBY, Roll from Megaman, Yuki Konno from Sword Art Online, and Link from The Legend of Zelda: Twilight Princess. The other thing I’d been planning for a while was a Steven Universe AU, probably to cope with the show being over but also because I was inspired by a lot of those SU AU artists I started following at the time. I won’t share the details here because it’s gonna have its own blog at some point, but the example I’ve shown here is of a comic I made loosely in order to introduce a divergence in the plot of the story as well as introduce a character unique to my AU. It was a lot of fun figuring out how to draw the characters and get a feel for the style.

As the year progressed, my amount of art I made per month began to dwindle, this time mostly because school was kicking my ass especially hard with finals. However, I took what time I had to get some backburner pieces finished, like the Tigerlily picture which I sketched out a couple months back, and the Gunvolt picture which I started working on SIX YEARS AGO. I don’t quite know why I got the urge to work on it again after so long, but it was nice to finally realize. The other drawing for DOTS was done in the dead of night but I was really happy with how it came out.

Despite only having two summer classes left of school, this month was really rough because they demanded a lot of my time and attention. I did not have the gumption to do anything digital, so I stuck to my sketchbook to get out what I felt like getting out.

My friends and I did a stream of the game Helltaker, and I really enjoyed the concept, so in following my friends I made my own Helltaker demon OC named Raksha the Ravenous Demon (it’s a pun but also got mythical insp). I also got super into Hazbin Hotel at this point, mostly because the Addict music video dropped and I couldn’t get enough of it, so I doodled Angel Dust cuz I felt like it. The other drawing I did was actually a free commission I gave a friend of mine as a prize for a trivia game show I ran back in June. He along with a couple other friends got some free drawings from me for getting the top three scores, and this one in particular was fun because of how interesting it was. He wanted me to draw a video game reviewer called the Irate Gamer from a specific moment, and I decided to go ham and just make it as dramatic as possible.

University classes finally wrapped up and right after that I was in the process of moving out of my apartment and getting adjusted to living with my parents again. I did a couple of agg.io drawing sessions with my friends from the Court Cards group as well as a new Dungeons and Dragons homebrew group I had joined. I drew some more of Valkyrie and came up with a design for my DND character Qakuqtuq (or Kai for short). He is monkey grandpa and I love him.

My main focus was on finishing a polished piece for my friend Cake, whose birthday was in the upcoming month. I wanted it to be as amazing as possible, so I put a lot of time into getting more detailed and making them look good. In addition to that, I did a few TOME doodles just for fun. The creature on the bottom was for this month’s art challenge on my Discord server where we made original TOMERPG monsters, and I created Hundylow, a Crystal-element monster based on the Grindylow from English folklore.

This month was a lot more productive than the past few had been. I tried to do a 31-day art challenge called Creatober but failed to get past the third prompt because I was still swamped with other work. I’m still happy with what little I did, including the piece with my characters Kyle and Guarudan from DSWD.

I don’t remember how, but I also suddenly rediscovered an old Flipnote Hatena series called Tales of LostClan, a Warriors fan series that I would say was the most obscure thing I’ve ever been super invested in. It was what got me into the actual Warriors books, and I liked it so much I redrew the animations into a comic... twice. Didn’t get nearly as far the second time but clearly my love for this little fanfiction had not waned after nearly a decade. I felt like drawing a book cover/movie poster for the series, just to get it out there and see how much I’ve improved over all that time.

Also I felt like making a vampiresona just before Halloween because I never dress up for Halloween in art (or real life anymore, for that matter), and I wanted to do something like that for once. It was short-lived but I really liked the design!

The focus of this month was definitely on Pokemon stuff. As per usual I contributed to the current Gotta Draw ‘Em All collab, and I was tasked to draw Regieleki. It was really fun to figure out how to make it stand out and look like it was made of electricity.

I also committed a lot of my spare time to my Fakemon Gym Leaders, as I had been working on bringing them to life in the past year or so now. As of this post, I’ve finished rendering their full body poses and gym badges, but I’m still working on completing all eight VS portraits, the first half of which are shown here.

I... didn’t draw anything this month, actually. What I’m showing here was worked on in the last few days but has actually been in progress for a couple of months, and I just finished it earlier today, in 2021. But I needed to show something off, and it’s also about time I mentioned it.

Back in October, I kept seeing people rave about this game called Genshin Impact, and I was interested but not so much as to start playing it... until my friends started playing and I was like “fuck it, let’s download it”. Since that day, I have been super immersed and in love with this game, to the point I came up with my own canon based on my gameplay experiences. This also included the creation of an original player character: Astra, the non-binary Traveller. And now, I’ve finally drawn them and brought them to life.

It has been one hell of a year. I had some of the highest highs and lowest lows in 2020, lots of changes, and I have now officially moved onto the next chapter of my life now that my time at university is finally over. I’m very excited for what 2021 has to offer, and I’m going to go forward with great ambition.

#my art stuff #art summary #this is always a joy to do every year and i'm glad to keep up the tradition for the sixth year in a row #this year was super good for this as well just to look back on what i was actually able to accomplish #long post #tome #hazbin hotel

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ahtohallan-calling · 4 years

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chapter 1 of the food of love is here!

{kristanna / t /modern au / humor and fluff / pride & prejudice inspired}

Legendary food critic Hayden West is known for their scathing reviews of restaurants and wickedly sharp wit. Restaurant owners tremble at the thought of the day the mysterious reviewer will walk through their doors-- never suspecting that Hayden West is, in fact, the redheaded woman with a sketchbook eating a quiet meal alone.

It's an easy enough job for Anna, and she's got her routine down pat, especially with the help of her assistant, Olaf.

And then comes the day she walks into Kristoff Bjorgman's restaurant-- and gets much, much more than she bargained for.

Pencil-- check.

Sketchbook-- check.

Phone, wallet, and keys-- check.

Anna took one last glance at herself in the mirror, smoothing down the navy skirt of her nondescript dress. Her hair, that couldn’t be helped; a wig would stand out even more than the fiery shade of auburn, but she’d pulled it up into a ponytail to keep it mostly out of sight. Simple makeup, plain unbranded shoes-- she appeared entirely unremarkable.

Perfect.

She hummed to herself a little as she locked her apartment and headed towards the stairs. This week’s assignment was easy enough; some new little bistro on the edge of an area that was trendy five years ago.

She liked the little, unfussy places. It was easier to hide when no one cared if she lingered with her sketchbook, easier to see what she was looking for at places where you could hear what was happening in the kitchen while still watching the manager wander around trying to figure out who Hayden West was.

The only clue they ever got was the day Hayden would be there; no photos existed of the mysterious restaurant critic, no matter how many times their scathing reviews went viral. “The Gordon Ramsay of newspaper critics,” that was what the Times had called Hayden after a withering review of a seafood place had garnered a hundred thousand retweets for its description of particularly horrible crab cakes that “deserved neither to be called crab nor cake but perhaps a vaguely saltwater scented cement patty that should be patented and marketed as an instantaneously effective weight loss supplement.”

Anna had been particularly proud of that one. It was a rare day when the food was actually bad enough to warrant such a review on its own; the fact that the manager had gotten into a screaming match that reduced a sixteen year old waitress to tears was simply motivation to hold absolutely nothing back.

She wondered, sometimes, what people would think if they knew the truth: that in fact Hayden had never existed at all and was in fact a twenty-four-year-old woman who’d unexpectedly been promoted into the gig after the man she’d been interning under was unceremoniously given the boot for drunkenly relieving himself on the editor’s lawn, where he had gotten caught by a ferocious Maltese.

The restaurant, thankfully, was only a few blocks away; her car was in desperate need of a replacement everything, but she didn’t have the heart to get rid of it, not when it’d seen her through thick and thin for nearly ten years, from her sixteenth birthday to her college move-ins to her hour long commute to the Tribune’s office for her barely-more-than-unpaid internship.

It came to a creaky halt in front of the restaurant at ten to noon; she’d have just enough time to get seated without having to wait, but she’d bear witness to the midday lunch rush and its aftermath. The place wasn’t much to look at, though she could tell by the small garden out front and the stenciled outlines on the white-painted brick wall that it wasn’t for lack of effort. It had opened only a month ago, the latest in a long line of valiant attempts to put something interesting on this block. If she remembered correctly, six months ago this space had been a design-your-own-lasagna place (wonderful idea, but impossible to execute efficiently); before that, there had been a sugar-free bakery that had been run out of business in two weeks when it was discovered that the only sugar-free thing it sold was bottled water; and even before that, it had been, like most places that were cursed with a constant “for lease” sign, a Jenny Craig.

And now it was just BB’s, a name that was so simple it made her worry that this venture would fail like all its predecessors, especially considering its lack of marketing and online presence; she’d had to send her intern to do some scouting for her to even get her hands on a menu in advance.

“This place is great, boss,” Olaf had said through a mouthful of food as he’d called her on his way back to the office. “They’ve even got cheesecake.”

“With--”

“Chocolate sauce, yeah, yeah, I know how you are. I got the menu for you and had the cute waiter circle all his recommendations, and that was top of the list. Well, not literally top, the desserts are all at the--”

“I knew what you meant, Olaf,” she’d said as she rolled her eyes, a fond smile tugging at the corner of her mouth. “And thanks.”

Now, Anna found herself hoping he had been right about this place when she pushed the door open, bells jingling overhead; it had been far too long since she’d gotten the chance to write an enthusiastic endorsement of a place that really deserved it. To her surprise, only one other table was taken by two men, one broad-shouldered and blond, the other dark-haired and sporting a wide smile the second he laid eyes on her.

“Hi!” he said brightly, leaping to his feet and wiping his hands on his apron. “Welcome to BB’s! Table for one?”

“Yes, please,” she said, returning his smile after a moment’s confusion; if the place was as good as Olaf had said, why was it this desolate on a Saturday at lunchtime?

“I’m Ryder, and I’ll be taking care of you today,” the waiter said, pulling a chair out for her at a table next to the window. “Let me grab you a menu, okay?”

“Thanks,” Anna said, her focus instead on the other man as he rose to his feet and ambled over to the door that led to the kitchen. He was even taller-- and broader, Jesus but those shoulders-- than she’d realized at first.

This place must have been an old-fashioned diner once upon a time, judging by the window to the kitchen through which she could still see him. He was handsome, she supposed, if you liked men with strong jaws and broad noses and floppy golden hair.

And brown eyes, she thought, her cheeks turning bright red as he looked up and caught her staring. She jerked her attention away just as Ryder said cheerfully “Here you go!” as he put a laminated menu on the table in front of her. “The soup of the day is minestrone. What would you like to drink?”

“Water, please, and a coffee,” she said, still trying to cover her embarrassment.

“I’ll brew some fresh for you and be right back,” he said, that broad grin still plastered to his face as he bustled back to the kitchen.

Anna fidgeted a little in her seat as she pulled out her sketchbook. The whole point of her job was going unnoticed, but if she was the only customer in the restaurant today-- shit, this could blow her whole cover, considering each restaurant knew in advance that Hayden was coming that day.

For now, though, she had to worry about her notes, and so she began to sketch the interior of the restaurant in the notepad. She was no great artist by any stretch of the imagination, but it was the best way she’d found to remember her thoughts and impressions of a restaurant without having to worry about prying eyes reading over her shoulder. With each detail she drew, she thought of something specific-- friendly waiter as she scribbled the outline of the door, not busy, why? for the back of a chair, clean, good health rating posted for the box of the kitchen window.

And the menu-- she glanced over it as she doodled it. Simple, Italian-American fare; judging by the names-- Cliff’s Favorite, a deep-dish pizza with meatballs, and Ronnie’s Ravioli-- these were family recipes. She couldn’t help but wonder about what the chef’s family was like as she dared to steal another peek at him. He was working on prepping something, his forehead furrowed in concentration, and if she noticed the way his shoulders strained against his white t-shirt as he did so...well, so long as he didn’t catch her looking again, what did it matter?

The bells over the door jingled, startling her, and she turned to see a chattering group of six friends come in. A feeling of relief washed over her; she hated to see places like this go under fast.

Ryder set her coffee down in front of her, winking as he dropped a couple of creamers beside it, before scurrying over to seat the newcomers. She took a sip as her phone buzzed with a text from Olaf.

how is it?

Good so far. Decent coffee. Not many people here, though, can you send some friends?

aye aye, captain. i’ll remind them to do a better job of pretending not to recognize you this time lol

God, it was hard to remember how she’d used to do this without him. When Hans had first been fired and she’d been unceremoniously promoted into his newly vacant position, she’d spent the first few weeks scrambling to find a restaurant that actually deserved the sort of bad review Hayden West was known for. Hans, of course, had never had such scruples, but it felt wrong to Anna to make a mockery of a place and risk running it out of business when it was run by perfectly nice people, even if they did have a watery hollandaise. She’d used to rely on word of mouth and her own scouting expeditions to try and find places that really deserved it, but it wasn’t until she’d found the place with the shitty crab cakes that she’d finally found a manager who was a big enough asshole to deserve every bad review the place got.

The problem, though, was that when the review had gone viral, it had spelled a complete shutdown for the restaurant. After spending two sleepless nights worrying about the impact it’d have on the rest of the staff, Anna had gone for a second visit-- this time ordering a simple salad that still managed to be disgusting-- and pulled one of the waiters aside, asking about the plans the rests of the staff had for a next job.

And, because that had been her lucky day, the waiter had been Olaf, and he’d been just as enthusiastic as she was about helping connect the rest of the staff with new places more than willing to hire them on-- and he didn’t ask any questions about why, exactly, she cared so much. But when Anna had asked what Olaf himself was looking for as a next step, he’d blushed and admitted, “Honestly, I’m on a break from college right now. Journalism major-- not sure if it’s worth finishing, you know?”

Anna had confessed then for the very first time that she was, in fact, the legendary Hayden West-- or at least his successor-- expecting him to react with shock and, if she was being honest, a bit of awe, but instead Olaf had burst into laughter.

“Obviously,” he said, wiping at his eyes. “I saw the way you were looking around the place and heard the questions you were asking. Secret’s safe with me, though.”

She’d called her boss the same day asking to bring him on as a paid intern, and neither of them had looked back since. Olaf had a knack for finding disgruntled waitstaff in the Tri-State area complaining on Twitter and Reddit about their shitty bosses, then following up with them after Hayden’s reviews were published to make sure that they and their coworkers had a better place to work, either because their managers had seen the light or because they had moved on to greener pastures.

One of the tricks they’d developed together was sending in decoys if Anna was ever worried about getting caught. Olaf had a whole network of friends who were more than willing to show up to restaurants at a moment’s notice and eat a meal on the Tribune’s dime.

Today, though, she needed a certain pair of them to make sure this went smoothly.

Send the two improv kids, she texted back. They’ve got their work cut out for them-- this place is deserted. They have to act extra Hayden-y.

Olaf replied with only a thumbs-up emoji. Anna sighed and sat back in her seat, and a moment later Ryder appeared by her side. “Ready to order?” he asked, wearing another bright smile.

Extra attentive-- she’d add that to the sketch later. “Yeah,” she said, skimming the menu quickly again. Honestly, so far, this place hit every mark of a restaurant worth one of Hayden’s really positive reviews, which, thanks to the column’s usual reputation, went even more viral than the venomous ones-- not every day that a renowned cynic actually liked something.

There was just one more test, the one that elevated a good place to a great one, great enough that she’d come back to on her own time and money and bring her sister along for the ride.

“I’ll just have the spaghetti, please,” she said with her sunniest smile.

Ryder nodded and turned away, whistling to himself, and she glanced up at the clock over his head.

Five minutes and counting, she thought. Fingers crossed this goes the way I want.

---

a/n: THANK YOU to molly, laura, and melissa for helping me brainstorm and plan this one out!!extra thanks to molly and to johanna for helping me with some of the restaurant stuff, to ronnie for helping me decide what kind of restaurant kristoff would have, and as always, to creative director gabi :')

#kristanna #my fics #p&p&p

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junietc · 4 years

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ink flows well when drawing flowers (adriennette)

adriennette x flower shop and tattoo artist au

pairing: adrien x marinette

word count: 4489

warning: none, just an immense load of fluff

summary: marinette often finds herself spending time at a certain blonde boy’s flower shop

a/n: it felt only fitting that i made marinette the tattoo artist since she was super into drawing and adrien is just adorable as fuck as flower shop owner. also, happy five year anniversary miraculous! thought i would celebrate with this fluffy one-shot

feel free to leave some requests and hope you enjoy ~

~~~~~~~~

Dupois road was known for its multitude of shops and variety of small cafes that adorned the streets; but what it wasn’t known for was its little flower shop that stood at the end of the road. It was small and not all that well known, but those who went there always left a good review and frequently returned as regular customers.

Though Marinette Dupain Cheng was not one of those customers, she did find herself drawn to the quaint little shop and quite fond of its owner, Adrien Agreste.

No matter the day, she always seemed to find time to stop by the small shop. The large windows allowed for a bountiful stream of light to illuminate the store and the sun seemed to only rival the warmth of the smile that Adrien would give her as she walked in.

“Back again already?” Adrien’s voice was obviously teasing but inviting, nonetheless.

“It’s my lunch break and I’d much rather spend it here than stuck third wheeling Alya and Nino.” She took her usual seat across from him near the end of the counter. “Besides, it’s not as if I’m harassing your customers. If I vividly recall, plenty of your costumers find me absolutely charming.”

Marinette smiled goofily in attempt to poke fun at the blonde. It had been merely a week ago that a customer had walked in when Adrien was feeling slightly agitated and reacted more abrasively than usual. So, Marinette tried to assuage the situation by being her cheerful self and was thereafter deemed “absolutely charming”.

Marinette giggled, taking out her sketchbook as Adrien rolled his eyes at the girl before joining her, resting his elbows on the counter-top. “Remind me why you keep coming in here?”

“I’m offended, Sunshine, I always thought you enjoyed my company.” The two shared a laugh before she went back to her doodling and responded properly. “I suppose flowers are a common request, so practice is always helpful.”

Marinette worked at the tattoo parlor just a couple stores down from the flower shop and was one of their most popular artists. Though she herself wasn’t adorned in tattoos like some of her coworkers were, she did have a couple scattered across her body. There was one of a ladybug on the inside of her ankle done by her best friend Alya and another of a cluster of macrons on the side of her rib-cage in honor of her parents’ bakery opening up its second store in London. There were various other little ones that she might’ve given herself with a stick and poke on late nights where there was nothing else to do, though those held less of a significance.

Moving away from the counter and into the back-storage, Adrien’s voice rang with a question. “Well then, what flower do you need for today’s practice?”

Marinette thought for a moment, eyes trailing around the shop, looking at the various arrays of plants that adorned the walls and clusters of flowers placed in vases. The store smelt fresh and the floral perfumes eased her nose after being cooped up in a room with somebody for at least an hour. “You choose for me this time,” she finally responded, eager to see what he would pick out for her.

“Are you sure?” she heard him ask. She hummed a yes in response and flipped to a new page in her drawing book. “Alright, then. A white gardenia for you, Ms. Marinette.” He walked back in holding a white flower in his hand. “White gardenias symbolize purity and trust and are given to convey the message that the recipient of these flowers is lovely.”

“Is this your way of telling me that you find me lovely, Agreste?”

“Quite the flirt, aren’t you?” he rolled his eyes as she smirked taking the flower from his hand and examining it. It was a beautiful flower and Marinette was delighted to understand what it had meant. This was something that she looked forward to every time she entered the shop. Learning what each flower meant was a joy because it meant that she could give her friends and family flowers not only for the beauty of them, but with a secret message.

Placing the flower down in front of her, she sketched out the basic shape of the flower in pencil, later adding the petals and smaller details. Once she felt confident enough in her design, she changed to her pen and drew a replica. Adrien watched her draw, fascinated by her precision and focus. His eyes were glued to her paper and were only interrupted by the sudden ringing of the chimes above the entrance door.

The sound alerted Adrien as he stepped away from Marinette and smiled at the customer. “Welcome! Can I help you with a flower arrangement or are you just browsing?” It was his usual greeting that Marinette had grown accustomed to hearing after popping into the store every so often. The lady that had walked in smiled at him before speaking.

“Hi! I’m looking to buy some flowers for my girlfriend. She’s coming home after being gone for a year working abroad so I’m picking her up from the airport.” She looked excited; her eyes filled with a sense of joy that caused Adrien to smile.

He nodded and thought for a moment before quickly dashing to the storage room once again. He came out with a pair of flowers: a pink lily and a white orchid. “Here, star gazer lilies and white orchards are both ways of conveying ‘I miss you’ but I think that considering she is your girlfriend, the lilies would be better suited. They symbolize admiration and missing another, so I think they’ll work out well.” He handed her the flowers and she inhaled its scent before smiling brightly.

“They’re perfect. I’ll take a bouquet please?” Adrien nodded before starting to build the arrangement. Marinette watched him carefully take the flowers and wrap them up in cellophane, his fingers folding the plastic gently and taping the ends with a sticker. As he handed her the flowers, she thanked him, paying for them before heading off with a smile evident on her face.

He waved goodbye before returning to Marinette who was still drawing and tapping her on the shoulder. “Coffee?” The smile on her face was enough of a response for her to slam her sketchbook shut and stand up.

“Sounds perfect.”

-----

Adrien was growing accustomed to hearing the tinkling of chimes at noon signaling Marinette’s lunch break. So, when he noticed it was already 1:31 and Marinette had yet to make an appearance, it was safe to say that he was slightly alarmed.

The bells suddenly chimed, and Adrien would be lying if he were to say he wasn’t the tiniest bit disappointed when his best friend Nino appeared through the doorway instead of the bluenette. “Nino! Surprised to see you here.” An automatic smile made its way to Adrien’s face as he and the bespectacled boy exchanged a hug. “I assume you’re here for some flowers?”

“Yeah, I need to pick up some flowers for Alya actually.” He scratched the back of his neck in embarrassment. “It’s our six-month anniversary today and I forgot to buy some so here I am. At the best flower shop in all of Paris.”

Adrien chuckled at his forgetful friend before picking up a couple of roses in the back and creating a bouquet. “If it makes you feel any better, Alya came in this morning before her shift.” Nino’s eyes widened in surprise before laughing and taking the roses from the blonde. “You two really are perfect for each other,” he teased as Nino paid for the flowers.

“I suppose we are.” A heartfelt smile rested on the boy as he grinned at Adrien. “I noticed you looked disappointed when I walked in. You weren’t expecting a certain tattoo artist, now were you?”

Though he refused to admit it, his felt his cheeks tinge pink as the words left his best friend’s lips. “I – she usually comes in much earlier, so I was concerned alright. It’s nothing like that.” He was reassuring Nino but at the same time if felt as though he were trying to reassure himself. He didn’t like Marinette, did he?

“I didn’t mention any names.” Adrien’s cheeks turned a more violent shade of red as his friend laughed. Nino made no further mention of the girl but something about the smug smile that tugged on his lips made Adrien think otherwise.

After his friend left, Adrien went back to work, rearranging the bouquets or sweeping any loose petals that were scattered across the wooden floor. Ten minutes, maybe fifteen had passed before the doors to his store opened again. His back was still turned away as he tried to reshelf some flowers, so he responded with his typical greeting, “Welcome! If you need any help with an arrangement, I’ll be with in a just a second and but if you’re just browsing go right –”

“Didn’t you just switch up those flowers yesterday Sunshine?” a knowing voice teased him, causing him to turn around.

“I reckoned you were finally going to show up. I suppose the shop was getting a bit too quiet for my taste,” he joked as the girl made her way to the counter. “Don’t you have a shift right now?”

Marinette clucked her tongue before dropping off her things on the counter top. “Alya’s watching for me. She owes me a shift anyways considering how many times I’ve taken hers because of an impromptu date with her boyfriend,” she walked over to where Adrien was, holding up a couple of the flowers that he was moving. “Need any help?”

“What? No practice today?” Adrien took the flowers from her hand and placed them into a vase, moving the flowers around for the prettiest arrangement. “Could you pass me those roses? The red ones,” Marinette nodded, reaching over to grab the flowers but as she was trying to pass them to him, her foot tripped over the broom that Adrien had left leaning against the wall. Before she could face-splat against the floor, Adrien quickly discarded his flowers and caught her, arm slipping around her waist.

“Agh!” Marinette squealed as he held her upright. His arm was snaked around her waist, supporting her balance and their faces were close to the other. The room was quiet and all that could be heard were the sounds of their hearts beating rapidly. A blush tinged both of their cheeks as they stared into the other’s eyes.

Adrien was quicker to react, apologizing profusely; “are you alright? Sorry I really should have put that broom away earlier I just wasn’t expecting –” before another word could be spoken Marinette stopped him with her own apologizing.

“You’re sorry? I should be sorry! I was being careless and clumsy, and I should’ve watched where I was going before –” Marinette rambled, only to be cut off by somebody clearing their throat. The two looked behind them to see a man who couldn’t have been all that much older than them with a grin.

“Though I apologize for interrupting the two of you I was wondering if I could get some help with a bouquet?” the two young adults both blushed at the reminder and immediately separated. Adrien was quick to clean up before aiding the man in his needs.

Marinette went back to her spot at the counter and tied her hair up in a bun, trying to avoid contact with either males in the room, doodling in her sketchbook. From what she had gathered this was the man’s first date and he wanted it to be perfect. She smiled at the thought of being gifted flowers, her pen quickly sketching the scene in front of her.

From her spot at the end of the counter she watched as he wrapped the peonies he had selected into a bouquet and handed them the man at the other side of the register. Her lips tugged into a smile as she watched him graciously converse about the man’s upcoming date and how excited he was. Something about watching Adrien easily talk to all his clients always made Marinette filled to the brim with happiness. Looking down at the drawing in front of her, she traced over the lines on his arms of the still image of him handing the flowers to the man.

“What’cha drawing now?” his voice had suddenly rung as Marinette jumped in surprise.

“Adrien! I didn’t see you there,” she quickly squealed, slamming her sketchbook shut as he leaned over her shoulder. She turned around, eyes meeting the blonde. She was startled by how close he was to her yet again. Her eyes seemed to travel down his face, admiring his features as the sunlight hit them. In attempts to diverge the conversation and hide her now rosy cheeks, Marinette motioned towards the shelf; “do you need any more help with cleaning up? I’m here for the rest of the hour.”

Adrien looked over at the small mess that they had made before nodding.

“That would be perfect.”

-----

The tattoo parlor that Marinette worked at had a drastically different aesthetic than the little flower shop Adrien was used to. The walls were a dark grey colour that contrasted with the white designs that decorated the walls. There were shelves placed around the parlor that were filled with knick knacks and various other decorations. On the walls were also different framed artworks and photographs of tattoos or drawings and most of the light came from the pot lights that were sporadically placed above him.

He made note of how the shop was always playing music as he walked in, waving hello to Alya who was leaning against the table that stood in the front of the parlor.

Her eyebrows raised upon seeing the ex-model as she faked surprise. “Agreste? What are you doing here? Ooh lemme guess, here to pick up Marinette for your first date?” the auburn-haired girl teased.

“Haha, very funny Alya,” Marinette walked in, a smile appearing on her face when she saw Adrien. “You ready for your first tattoo?” How Marinette had convinced Adrien to get his first tattoo he knew not. But he was still eager and excited for the experience and it didn’t hurt the he would get to be around Marinette some more.

Alya’s face contorted to one of shock. “A tattoo? If somewhere to tell me that the Adrien Agreste were getting a tattoo, I would’ve never believed it.”

“Well a lot of people didn’t believe I quit my father’s modeling agency and opened up a store but here we are,” the three laughed at his response before Marinette made signal for him to follow her into the area in the back of the parlor.

She motioned for him to take a seat on the large longue chair in front of him and disappeared for moment, returning with a booklet. She handed it to him and opened the book. “You can look through here if you want any ideas but considering this is your first tattoo, I would recommend going for something simpler than the designs that are in the back of the book.” Adrien thought for a moment flipping through the contents of the book, stopping at certain designs, contemplating them before continuing to look through the rest of them. “Nothing catching your eye?” she asked.

“Actually, I was thinking of doing a flower, but I still don’t know which one,” Marinette smiled. Of course, he would want a flower, he does work in a flower shop after all. “I thought it would be only fitting since you practice drawing flowers in my shop all the time.”

“A flower by yours truly? I suppose it is rather fitting,” she smiled and thought of the varieties of flowers that he could choose from. “What flower are you thinking of? A rose? That one’s popular. Perhaps a lily? You always liked those. Maybe a –”

“You pick for me,” the confidence in his voice took Marinette by surprise. Though she was touched by the trust that he had in her for choosing a reasonable tattoo, she was still taken a back that he wanted her to choose his first tattoo.

“Are you sure? But this – I mean, this is your first tattoo you know?”

“I know.”

“Then why would you want me to –”

“Because I want the tattoo to mean something to me.”

“You work in a flower shop and yet none of those flowers mean anything to you?” Marinette deadpanned, ignoring the cheeky grin that appeared on the blonde’s face.

“The one you choose will,” he said it with pure confidence as he smiled. It would be a blatant lie to say that Marinette’s face had not turned bright red at his remark.

Curse how smooth he was.

She tried to smother her blush as she pondered. What would be the best choice for Sunshine boy himself? An idea clicked through her mind as she smiled excitedly. “How about a sunflower? The only flower that could rival with you, sunshine boy.”

The smile on Adrien’s face was more than enough to know that Marinette’s choice was a perfect one.

After ten minutes of coming up with initial design and chatting with Adrien, Marinette settled on a smaller, simple design, very minimalistic and Adrien decided on placing it on his left upper arm, near the shoulder. After prepping the design and cleaning the area where the tattoo was going to go, Marinette was ready to get started.

Adrien was surprisingly good with the pain and remained still throughout the process. The two talked for nearly the entirety of the time, catching up about life and just gossiping about their friends.

“What’s your favourite flower Marinette?” he winced slightly, due to the pain. Though she was used to him pestering her with questions, she still wondered how many questions the green-eyed boy had in him.

Marinette thought for a moment, eyes trailing over his exposed arm before settling on an answer. “I suppose it’s always been a cherry blossom. Call me corny but they remind me of spring and it’s just always so beautiful to see them,” she paused from her work and pulled down slightly on her t-shirt, showcasing her collarbone. “I got it done when I had just turned twenty. Probably my most painful one but I love it nonetheless,” on the skin underneath her collarbone was a cherry blossom branch that reached out to her shoulder. It was pink and delicate looking and somehow Adrien found himself staring at its beauty for much longer than he’d anticipated.

“You say it as if you haven’t been twenty in ages. You’re only twenty-one Marinette,” he mentioned with a provoking smile.

“And you’re only twenty-two. So, don’t try and act like you’re so much wiser than me Sunshine,” she teased him before going back to her work.

Adrien leaned back into the chair and thought of his life a couple years ago before he had decided to open his shop, how his father would react to such ludicrous idea. Not only is he “tarnishing” his skin but the idea that his first tattoo would be of a sunflower? He would have been thrown out of the house if he were still living there.

They continued to talk, somehow stumbling across the topic of dating. “How did it go with that one guy you went out with?” though he didn’t show it, Adrien was tinged with jealousy. He wasn’t quite sure why though, just the feeling, perhaps the idea of Marinette being close with somebody else made him upset. It was probably just that he was afraid she wouldn’t pop into the store as often. Yeah, that seemed like a suitable response.

“Kim? We didn’t go out. We’re just friends, have been since we were in middle school,” the idea of dating her swimmer friend was one that Marinette refused to think of. Though she was confused as to why Adrien thought it was a date. “Though he did say that he had a friend who was potentially interested. I think his name was Luka, I’m going to be meeting with him in a couple days.”

An exasperated sigh slipped out of his mouth. Though he didn’t wish to intrude on her love life, he still felt compelled to tell her that going on date might’ve been a bad idea. Why? He had yet to find an excuse suitable enough to tell her because based on what he had read in books and in movies, “I don’t know”, was a bullshit answer. “Oh?” he managed to respond.

“You holding up alright?” she asked him sincerely. Her words seemed to be laced in concerned after seeing the blonde close his eyes in pain. He nodded his head and before she went back to work. There wasn’t much more left to do, just a couple touch ups and details and before they knew it, Marinette was done.

Standing up she handed him a mirror to look at the final product. “And we’re done! Wasn’t so bad now was it,” she gave herself a little pat on the back for her work. Adrien examined the tattoo and smiled upon seeing it.

“It looks perfect! What do you think?” the flower was beautiful, and Adrien couldn’t have been more ecstatic about the results. His eyes looked up to meet Marinette’s and she flashed him a grin.

“Almost as bright as you, Sunshine boy.”

-----

Call it fate, call it not wanting to spend an hour stuck in the tattoo parlor where her coworkers were complaining about how their boss wasn’t letting them break for the weekend, whatever it was, it caused Marinette to spend another one of her lunch breaks at Adrien’s flower shop.

“I’ve got a pot of pansies for you to practice drawing, their sitting in your usual spot,” Adrien responded, currently on the phone. Marinette looked over to see a fresh pot of purple pansies and smiled. She took a seat and started to draw, waiting for Adrien to get off the phone.

Her eyes were focused on the drawing in front of her. The ink of her pen slowly running out especially considering how long she’d had it for. She included a beautiful intricate design engraved into the pansies and went over the lines in ink, shading where she felt like made sense.

She felt his figure watching her process from behind the counter and met his eyes. “Thoughts?” she asked him, curious to know what he thought of the drawing. She turned her sketchbook so that it would face him, and he looked at it eagerly.

“It’s gorgeous as always,” he grinned at her, lightly tracing over the drawing with his finger. “You know, pansies were actually used in the Victorian Era for secret courting. They mean loving thoughts or that you are thinking of the other,” he continued to ramble on about the flower and Marinette watched him, finding it adorable how nerdy he would get about flowers and what they meant.

Not that she would admit that to anyone.

Marinette inhaled the sweet scent of the pansies and played with its petals. “I had no idea that these were such romantic flowers,” she had to admit that hanging around Adrien had opened her eyes to how many other flowers there were. Before their encounter she could probably name only a couple flowers but now her floral vocabulary consisted of at least twenty. “You know I had a client ask me for a tattoo of a gardenia and they looked so excited when I knew what they were. What would I do if you didn’t have your little flower shop?”

“I’m sure you could find another flower shop to practice at,” Adrien chuckled, heading to the back to start on another arrangement order.

But none of those flower shops would have an owner as charming as you. Marinette thought watching him come up with a cluster of pink and red roses. The two sat in a comfortable silence, Adrien messing around with an array of flowers at the counter as Marinette sat on the opposite side, now practicing drawing the bouquet of hyacinths that Adrien had given her after the pansies were done. Her pen moved along the paper, eyes shifting from up to look at the flowers to back down.

Fiddling with the rose in his hand he asked her a question. “How did your date with the Luka boy go?” His voice seemed quieter than usual, as though he had been nervous to ask. Shrugging her shoulders, she kept her eyes on the piece in front of her.

“It was alright,” she hummed, fingers outlining the corners of the paper. “But we both agreed that we would be better off as friends.”

Letting out a sigh of relief, Adrien set down the roses. “Well if you’re any interested, my friend thinks you’re cute,”

Marinette didn’t look up from her drawing but snorted in response, “What friend?”

“Me,” swallowing whatever pride he might’ve had left, he confessed. “I’m the friend.”

His voice seemed nonchalant and a smug smile rested on his lips as the words escaped his mouth but the rapid beating of his heart in his chest was a dead giveaway that the boy was nervous. The pen in Marinette’s hand nearly dropped in surprise. “Oh? You should’ve told me earlier. I think your friend is quite adorable himself,” she let out a laugh as her eyes finally met his.

“Really?”

“I mean, it’s hard to resist a ball of sunshine,” Adrien snorted at her comment as he leaned closer to her from across the counter. His face was much closer to hers than it had ever been, his green eyes more vibrant than usual. Marinette smiled, moving closer as well, leaving a smaller space between the two, a heavy blush marking her cheeks.

“Is it now?”

Adrien sealed the space between their lips, a smile forming as they kissed. It was soft and delicate, the smells of the roses he had left on the table filling the air. After they parted, a pair of lovesick smiles were prominently displayed on their faces.

“And it’s even harder to resist when that ball of sunshine is as good of a kisser as you are,” she teased once more, causing him to roll his eyes before locking their lips once again.

#adrienette #miraculous ladybug #miraculous imagine #miraculous lb #miraculous au #adrien x marinette #marinette x adrien #flower shop au #tattoo artist au #flower shop tattoo artist #fluff #adriennette fluff #adrien agreste #marinette dupain cheng

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panic-and-procrastinate-writing · 4 years

Text

Chapter 11: A Heavy Decision

Warnings: Eating disorders, Mention of self harm, Depression, Anxiety

The day after was, something else.

You laid there, sheets pushed to the end of the bed in the atrociously hot summer night, and stared at the blank ceiling.

How did such a blank space manage to capture what you were feeling so well?

It was one of those days, when your head was too empty and your heart was too full, and you couldn’t decide on what to feel.

Probably because you were scared to start thinking.

But after yesterday, you thought it would be better to think and feel nothing at all, than to spiral and hurt yourself in the chaos of unwanted feelings.

You sighed as you listened to the noise floating in through your open windows, and closed your eyes as a saxophone player on the street below was playing a calming and peaceful tune.

You felt the aura that the tune carried with it, and the players feelings were put into every note that they created.

They were happy.

They didn’t have much money, even though they had been playing for at least an hour now, but they were still happy.

Because they were doing what they loved. Creating music and feelings with every breath into their instrument, and you felt everything that they did.

It was with that sweet fact that you found enough energy to get up and actually start your day.

You stood in the shower, the cool water gently beating your skin, and massaging away the stress within you. You scrubbed at your body, desperately relishing in the comfort of feeling clean and no longer being sweaty.

You really did hate summer.

But as you stood underneath the spray of the shower, your face immersed within the water, you still felt… empty.

It wasn’t true of course. You weren’t empty, just, unsure of what to feel. And until you could decide, there was nothing in your head.

But in your heart…

You shook your head underneath the water, almost like you were psychically shaking out the negativity.

You wouldn’t think about it. You wouldn’t think about Nevaeh, and you wouldn’t think about her, or anything that made the hole in your chest any bigger.

You knew you would spiral if you did. And you couldn’t afford to spiral, or to panic. Not after those panic attacks you had a couple days ago.

Sighing tiredly, you grabbed the shampoo off the window sill, and began to wash your hair.

This was going to be a long day.

You stood in the kitchen, and stared at the jam jar on the counter.

To make a sandwich, or not to make a sandwich.

That was the question.

Her voice hadn’t been loud that morning, and she didn’t speak the night before. Did she speak yesterday?

It was hard to remember yesterday without wanting to cry about it.

You sighed again, and braced your arms against the counter, and hung your head. How the hell were you going to get through today without breaking down?

All you were trying to do was to make a sandwich, and yet you still couldn’t get it out of your head.

Neveah was so angry…

“NO!” You slammed your hands down on the counter as you shouted, desperation controlling your every thought and move, but still, you were unable to think about anything else.

You didn’t want to think. You just wanted to be.

Why wasn’t that enough?

You sat in the living room, a lemonade with ice in hand, and watched the news channel.

According to the weather lady, it was going to be a heat wave this weekend, so it was a good idea to stock up on ice and sun cream. And according to your senses, she was right for once.

It had been mild so far, this summer in Gotham. It had occasionally been humid or had the odd day that felt like it was going to burn your skin off, but it had still been mild.

Except, it was about to get worse.

And you hated it.

As you continued to watch the news channel, the cameras changed from the weather lady to the two main reporters back at the news station, where they continued to inform the public of the current news.

The current news about the murderer.

You held a bated breath and watched with horror as the reporters informed the public of the newest developments in the case, and how several people online and in social media had begun to crack the message within the flowers.

It was stupid to think that with such a public presenting of the victim the message could remain a secret.

Of course there would be people who would recognise the flowers. Of course there would be people who would piece together what they mean, and of course people would understand what they meant to the victim.

And now nobody would care.

Why would they? She was a cheater after all. Lots of people would think she deserved what she got.

And maybe she did deserve to get punished. Maybe she did deserve to be taught a lesson to not be greedy or unfaithful.

But not like that.

Not with 6 spears sticking out of her body, slowly killing her, torturing her until her last moments were nothing but pain.

You sighed a desperate sigh, so tired of feeling horrible.

Why did they have to do that?

Now nobody would care.

You sat on the floor of your living room, the small storage closet wide open and several paintings surrounding you, all packaged and boxed up, ready for being posted.

But there was a problem.

There was nobody who could go to the post office and send them off.

Because Nevaeh was mad.

You put your head in your hands and sighed with defeat, so tired of being… tired.

You were stupid to think you could go through this day and ignore everything that happened yesterday.

You needed Nevaeh.

Why did you think it was a good idea to push her away?

Because she couldn’t get involved in the case.

But you needed her.

But she couldn’t get involved.

But…

You ran your fingers through your hair and breathed, trying to remain calm despite the building frustration at the conflict that was tearing you apart.

You wanted to cry. You wanted to scream. You wanted to tear up everything in the room and then yourself, hoping that maybe, just maybe, there would be an answer within the left-over pieces of yourself.

But you were too tired to try, especially when you knew there was just no point.

You weren’t going to find any answers tearing yourself apart.

And it hurt.

It always hurt.

You didn’t want to hurt.

Taking another deep breath, you tried to focus on something else.

You had to find a way to fix this.

Nevaeh was furious, and she would continue to be until you helped someone, or told her you were already helping.

But since you couldn’t tell her, you had to find another way.

But you didn’t want another way.

You sighed again, falling back and landing on the floor with a thump, spreading out and letting yourself rest, desperately needing it.

You had to think of another way.

You had too.

Your neighbours? Maybe, but you didn’t like that. It felt iffy. You had never actually spoken to them at all, you had no opportunity too, and so turning up out of the blue and asking them to drop off several large paintings that were all very important to you and your life seemed…like a terrible idea.

Not to mention you wouldn’t even be able to actually leave your door way, so you would have to sit at the door way with your door open all day wating for them to come outside on the off chance they might be feeling generous enough to actually drop them off.

You sighed again, running through several more reasons why your neighbours weren’t the solution you were looking for, when your phone pinged.

You moved your head to the side to look at it, wondering what it could be.

It sounded like a notification, rather than a message, so you didn’t feel any immediate dread.

But you were in a weird head space, so you weren’t sure if it was a good notification or a bad notification.

Unable to be bothered to actually get up, you crawled over to your coffee table like a slug, and checked your phone.

Still laying stomach down on the floor, you unlocked your phone, and saw that your music app had suggested a couple new songs for your ‘art playlist’.

Huh. They seemed like pretty good songs.

You did need a break from thinking so much…

Standing up with a groan, you waddled over to your bookshelf, and picked up your most recent sketch book that you drew in. Sketching was a lot friendlier than your horrific nightmare fuelled paintings.

Collapsing on the couch with your pencil case and sketchbook, you flipped through it to your most recent sketches, and paused when you found several doodles of the vigilante.

Hmm. The Red Hood. You sighed as your head fell back, thinking of him.

He hadn’t come by yesterday, so he was probably going to come back tonight, since he did need to drop off a new burner phone.

Hopefully he was. You really wanted to see him again. You needed something to make you feel better, and he usually made you feel that.

Sighing, you clicked play on the new songs, and began to sketch. You didn’t wanna think about what it meant when you managed to finish several pages of nothing but him.

The vigilante knocked on your window at midnight, stepping off the fire escape and into your living room, where you were laid on the floor again, surrounded by stationary that had spilled from your pencil case.

You had put the paintings away earlier when it became clear that you weren’t going to be able to come up with a solution any time soon, and instead swapped them for your markers and other art supplies. And you were doing pretty well inking and colouring your sketches before he came around.

“Feeling creative tonight?” He asked, standing next to you, looking down and trying to peek at your work. You could feel his curiosity, and how badly he wanted to see your art, but all the drawings were of him.

That was far too embarrassing, so with a light chuckle, you shut your book and started to gather up your pens to put them away. There was no way he was allowed to see those drawings.

“Something like that. How are you doing?” You replied as you stood up, pencil cases in hand and sketch book underneath your arm.

“I’m alright, got some new information on the case, along with a new phone for you. What about you?”

“I’m fine.” You said as you walked over to your bookcase and slid the sketch book onto the shelf, and then tried to slide the box of markers on top of it. Except, you were tiny, and Jesus Christ why did you buy such a tall bookshelf?

You yelped as you felt the vigilante come up behind you and take the box from your hands and put them in their place at the top.

You were frozen on your tip toes, his chest right up against your back, trapping you between him and the bookshelf and Christ why were you blushing?

“You sure you’re okay?” He asked again, his automated voice closer than you thought was necessary and doing ungodly things to your brain. Ahhh! What the hell was happening!?

“You seem really tense.” He remarked, gently holding your shoulders and pushing you down off your tip toes, making you even smaller against him.

Oh God, oh fuck, oh God-

“Is it because of the fight you had with Nevaeh?”

Fuck. Shit. Fuck.

Mood instantly killed.

You sagged beneath his arms, and leant back against him, his strong body never giving way and letting you rest. You sighed and dragged your hands down your face as he squeezed your shoulders to comfort you, and you blushed a little harder in your hands.

God, you needed to get a grip. Yes, touch was new and unfamiliar territory, but he wasn’t going to hurt you. He was just trying to comfort you. Everything was fine.

“Everything’s fine. I’m just… dealing with it. I don’t think I’m ready to talk about it yet.” You answered tiredly, gently placing your hand over his, a gesture to show you appreciated him being there.

He hummed behind you, and then let go and walked away, taking off his jacket and placing it over the back of the sofa and sitting down.

You turned around to follow him, except, your jaw dropped before you could.

Jesus fucking Christ have mercy on your soul.

You didn’t realise how, ahem, toned, the vigilante was. Apparently, the leather jacket hid how much muscle he had, and with it out of the way, you got a lovely full view of, well, everything.

Glorious bulging muscles all wrapped up in a skin tight t-shirt, sweat darkening the shirt and making the muscles more accentuated, and even some small beads of sweat dripping from underneath his helmet, falling onto his chest.

You took a deep breath and turned around, desperate to get a grip. He was your friend, not a piece of meat!

“You good?” He called out when he noticed you hadn’t moved.

“Um, uh, ah, yeah, yeah everything’s fine, I just need a drink.” You fumbled out, quickly pacing to the kitchen to get something cold.

Grabbing an iced latte from the fridge, you chanced a peek at the Red Hood. He was spread out across your sofa, his head tilted back and resting, obviously feeling exhausted from the humid air.

Hmm. Turning around, you grabbed a mini electric hand fan from your junk draw.

That would make him feel better.

Walking over to the sofa, you finally sat down, and offered him the electric fan.

He stared at it for a minute, before smiling gently underneath his helmet and taking it. He turned it on and tilted his head back, aiming the fan at his throat, where it was clear he was suffering the most.

And apparently you were suffering also because Goddamn, the sweat sliding down his throat was sinful.

Taking a deep breath to calm down, you said “What new information you got?”

Hopefully the case would keep your mind preoccupied and away from any distracting thoughts.

He sighed as he thought about his answer, and then said “You spoke to Oracle yesterday, right?”

You hummed in agreement as you peeled the lid off your iced latte, taking a sip and placing the trash on the table.

“Right, well the targets name is Malcom Valetta, a standard officer who mostly just patrolled. When they found him and questioned him, he clammed up, didn’t say a word, so they let him go home. Had no choice with no real proof. No offence.”

“None taken.” You replied.

“But then he came in today, and confessed everything. Told the commissioner about how he had been taking bribes for months now, and how he had been looking the other way and ignoring this rich woman’s dirty business. Her name is Catherine Whites.”

“He confessed everything? Why?” You asked, perplexed.

“Said there was someone following him home last night. You wanna take a guess on who it was?”

“The murderer.” You didn’t like the dread that was starting to pick up in your stomach. Damnit. The Hood was supposed to keep you company and chase away the bad shit, not bring it with him!

Sighing, you sipped more of your latte as you listened to him continue.

“I mean it could have been, and if you say it was then you’re probably right. But yeah, Valetta got scared, and now the police are chasing down this Whites woman to see if she’s a possible lead.” He finished, sitting up a little and stretching.

“But this lady, Catherine Whites, she doesn’t have anything to do with the murderer.” You pouted, curling your legs up underneath. The police were going in the completely wrong direction.

“You’re probably right, but the police aren’t looking for the murderer, they’re looking to see why one of their own is supposedly being followed home, and Whites is the only lead they have. There’s nothing that actually connects the previous victim and the new target, so they don’t think it’s this new killer.” He explained, his robotic voice doing nothing to comfort the dread still growing in your stomach.

You groaned as you threw your head back, becoming increasingly frustrated with this case. It was going to be impossible to stop the bad guy if everyone kept running around like headless chickens.

“Okay, so everyone’s being fucking stupid, now what? Is he at least going into protective custody?” You asked, exasperated.

The vigilante chuckled at your potty mouth and frustration, but answered your question.

“Yeah, he’s gonna be protected. He’s been fired though, and he won’t work with any government service again, and should be doing a year in prison. But it depends if he helps or not with taking down Whites, and if he does help then it could make his trial go a little easier and he could get less time.” The Red Hood continued to explain, adjusting the fan and pointing it a little lower on his throat.

You tried not to stare.

“Is Catherine Whites really that bad?” You asked, not fully understanding how much trouble Malcom Valetta worked himself into.

“You tell me. What are your senses saying about her?”

You sipped your latte as you thought about it, the cool liquid soothing you from the humidity, and helping you focus.

“She doesn’t seem like a nice person. Actually, she seems like a horrible person. She doesn’t care about anyone at all and will do whatever it takes to get what she wants, bribery being the least worst thing she’s done.” You were confused as to why he asked you what you felt about her, but you amused him anyway.

He hummed in thought, his brows scrunching in thought as he tapped the side of the electric fan, turning it up. You weren’t really sure how to continue the conversation, so you sat there and let him think.

“Do you know if she’s ever murdered anyone?” He asked suddenly, and you hated the way you knew the answer.

“Not directly, but I think, sometimes, she’s a made threat that’s gone too far. And she covered it up.” You didn’t need to say anything else, the truth was out there now, and he knew it, and he wasn’t going to stop hunting her until everyone else knew it too.

But Catherine Whites was a problem for another time.

People like Catherine Whites were too greedy to go anywhere else other than a suffering city like Gotham, where the rich could exploit the poor, and so she wasn’t going anywhere.

And she may have caused a few accidents, but she never brutally murdered someone and hung their corpse from a tree.

Which is why you had to focus on the murderer. Because he was brutal and sadistic and psychotic, and serial killers didn’t usually stop unless they were stopped.

You had to catch him and soon.

Sighing, you took a gulp of your latte this time, needing the sweet boost that caffeine usually gave you. Your coffee wasn’t quite finished yet, but you put it down anyway, the condensation on the cup making your hands all pruney.

Looking around the living room while The Hood was deep in thought, your eyes landed upon the art closet, and the several packaged paintings peeking out of it.

You wondered… No, that would be ridiculous. But… no, no he wouldn’t. Would he? Maybe…

It couldn’t hurt to ask, right?

“What are you thinking about?” The Red Hood asked suddenly, snapping you out of your thoughts.

“Oh, uh, nothing. Well, actually…” He stared at you patiently as you fumbled, and eventually you decided to just say “Ah, fuck it. Listen, I got a hell of a lot of paintings that need to be delivered to the post office and sent off to different buyers so I can get paid, but with the whole, you know, not being able to leave the house thing, I can’t drop them off. I was wondering, if maybe, you would…”

“Send them off?” He finished your sentence for you as a light blush dusted your cheeks when you nodded.

You weren’t used to asking for help.

He thought about it for a bit, and then said “Why don’t you just hire a courier?”

“Huh?” You stared at him with mild confusion, having no idea what he was talking about.

“You seriously don’t know what a courier is?” He asked with surprise, tilting his head. You shook your head no.

“A courier is a person you can hire to deliver something to one place or another. The more cash you pay them the more specific you can make the delivery.” He explained patiently, adjusting the fan again.

“Oh.” You said meekly. “I didn’t know you could do that. Nevaeh always used to just drop them off for me.”

He hummed next to you, not sure what to say to that, but making sure to let you know he was listening.

You sighed as you tilted your head back, tired of the constant depression eating away at you.

“I’m guessing she isn’t going to drop anything off while she’s mad at you, right?” He said, still looking at you.

“Right. But I can’t fix this. I can’t change her mind. I thought we had gotten past it but she still wants to help people, and she still wants to use me to do it.”

He sighed next to you, and then said “Yeah, that’s a problem.”

“I mean, what am I supposed to do? I can’t tell her, I can’t include her, I can’t trust her. I- I just don’t know what to do.” You vented as you clenched your fists together and gritted your teeth, feeling hopeless and frustrated.

“There’s nothing much you can do. You just have to wait and hope that she eventually gives up, otherwise you will just have to keep pushing her away.” He said rather drearily next to you.

“Wow, that’s some really helpful advice, makes me feel much better.” You replied with snark, curling up into a ball and resting your chin on your knees, hugging yourself.

He sighed again before saying “I’m sorry Doll. I’m not the best at this. Comforting people and offering words of hope or wisdom. It’s not my thing. All I can do is give you the truth, and the truth is that your gonna get hurt a lot, and your gonna have to keep pushing people away to keep them safe and the investigation uncompromised.” He said bitterly, turning away from you and slouching on the sofa, upset by his own words, even though they were true.

Jesus, is this what this life was? Unending loneliness and constant hard work to distract you from it?

“Listen,” He began, and you turned your head to look at him. “This life is hard, okay? And it’s only going to get harder, but you have to remember why you started. Because you wanted to help people, and you wanted to change your life and not be afraid anymore. But if it’s putting that much of a strain on yours and Nevaeh’s friendship then you can back out and I can never come back.”

You stared at him as his eyes looked straight into yours, and you could feel the emotions that were attached to every word. There was compassion and sympathy, but there was also a longing. A desperate wish that you would tell him he was wrong and that he should stay.

He didn’t want to leave and never come back.

And you found yourself hating that idea too.

“I don’t think you leaving would fix this to be honest.” You started, and turned your face away so you could stare at the wall and not at him. He was too distracting.

“I mean, Nevaeh wants to help people, and wants me to work with the police or something, and I can’t do that. The only reason I can work with you was because of the weird circumstances. Nevaeh doesn’t know about you, so you’re not the problem. The problem is that I can’t trust her.” You finished with a sigh, and leaned back, looking up at the ceiling and silently praying for an answer.

You jumped when you felt his hand on your shoulder, giving you a comforting squeeze, and you gaped at him with a blush.

God you wished he would stop being so nice, it really made you stupid.

But you calmed down and smiled at him, placing your hand over his and whispering a “Thanks.” under your breath. You were so goddamn grateful he was there.

Hell knows where you would be without him.

“Well, things might only get tougher with Nevaeh, but I’ll always be just a call away if you need me Sweetheart.”

You blushed a little harder with the soft feelings building inside you, and squeezed his hand, unable to speak, afraid you were going to ruin the fragile but soft atmosphere.

Taking your hand away from his, and him letting go of your shoulder, you both dissipated into a comfortable quiet, unsure of what was going to happen next, but unafraid with him by your side.

You typed in the password, Oracle_1, and the small black chat box popped up.

The vigilante had left a little past 2 am, and you tried to sleep, you really did, but there was just too much in your head.

(And your heart.)

You decided to seek out someone else, for a second opinion on what to do about Nevaeh, and since there was only one other person you could talk to, you had hoped that Oracle would be awake at 3:46 in the morning.

- I know it’s pretty late, but are you awake? I’m kind of having a crisis right now and need some advice. –

You were prepared to wait a while, thinking she certainly wasn’t going to be up at the late hour, but was pleasantly surprised when you saw three little dots in a floaty cloud appear soon after.

- What kind of crisis? –

Sighing, you began to type.

- It’s Nevaeh. I spoke with Red Hood earlier, and he caught me up with the case, but I ended up venting about how frustrated I was because I couldn’t explain to Nevaeh what’s been going on and I’ve been forced to push her away. I just, need to know if I made the right choice. Do you think pushing her away is the right choice? –

You sat with shaky fingers hovering over your keyboard and pressed send, terrified of her answer.

This was it.

This would decide if you were destined to be alone forever.

She took a long time to reply, but when she did, it made you pause.

- That’s a tricky question. Pushing people away is tough, and it hurts, but that’s not the same as cutting them off. I guess, it depends what kind you mean. –

What did you mean? You didn’t want to cut Nevaeh off, but with the way things were going, it seemed like it was going to reach a nasty conclusion and she was never going to speak to you again.

You tapped the edge of the laptop in frustration, unsure exactly what to say and what to do.

- She’s angry because she wants to help people, and she wants to use me to do it. But she wants to go to the police, and I obviously can’t do that, but if I don’t show her that I’m already helping people then she might act out on her own and cause the police to come knocking. Or she might just never speak to me again. I don’t know what to do. –

She already knew the situation, but you hoped that by saying it clearly would help present a clear solution.

You doubted it would though.

- I’m stumped myself. Are you sure you can’t trust her? –

You paused as your fingers hovered over the keys, unsure of what was holding you back, but you found yourself unable to immediately agree with her.

Were you really sure?

Were you really unable to trust her?

Were you really just going to give up trying to trust her and keep her around even though your connection had apparently been severed?

- Yes. She broke our promise, how can I trust her to keep another one? –

There was something screaming at you in your head, telling you that you were wrong, but you ignored it.

How could you trust her? You had proof you couldn’t.

- Then I’m sorry, but you just have to let her go. She can’t get involved, and she can’t get in the way. –

Fuck.

You knew it was coming.

You knew there was no way out, and that there was no happy ending.

You knew, and still, you stupidly hoped it would be okay.

You were setting yourself up for failure, and you were a stupid pile of shit.

‘Pathetic’

You chuckled cynically as her voice perked up, and you quickly typed - Thanks for the advice, goodbye - to Oracle, before shutting the chat and the laptop.

Of course, her voice would decide to speak now, when you were about to begin an episode of self-loathing.

‘You’re so stupid sometimes.’

“Yes, yes I am.” You said out loud, climbing into your bed and hiding under the covers, tears so close to spilling already.

‘Stupid and pathetic.’

#pnpstories #Jason Todd #jason todd/reader #dc #ao3 #writing #fanfic #oracle #barabra gordon

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dxmedstudent · 5 years

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Weird Asks that Say a Lot Meme...

My friend the wonderful @meanwhileonwednesday suggested I fill out Every even number for the 'weird asks that say a lot', so here I am. Thanks, friend! XD

2. chocolate bars or lollipops?

Chocolates.

4. how did your elementary school teachers describe you?

At my first school? Artistically talented and perceptive (one teacher was very vividly impressed by my grasp of duck anatomy at like 5 years old). Then there’s the teacher at my new school who thought I had special needs because I was withdrawn (I was being bullied by most of the class, really); she was a new teacher and not really equipped to deal with that. By the end of primary school, I went back to being commended on my work ethic and smarts and artistic ability.

6. pastel, boho, tomboy, preppy, goth, grunge, formal or sportswear?

Hmmm I think my work clothes are mostly a formal/preppy mix. With a little bit of boho thrown in, particularly when I’m at home.

8. movies or tv shows?

I prefer movies, because they represent a lot less commitment (America, please stop giving everything like 17 seasons, I beg of you!), however TV show episodes are shorter and easier to slot into your life than a full movie.

10. game you were best at in p.e.?

I was generally awful in PE. I liked benchball, can’t say that I was good in it, being yet another game where being short doesn’t do you any favours.

12. name of your favorite playlist?

Either my Kickass playlist, or my Reflective playlist.

14. favorite non-chocolate candy?

Starburst.

16. most comfortable position to sit in?

Curled up, on my side, in a nice big armchair with my legs hanging off the side. Surrounded by pillows, and probably a cat or two.

18. ideal weather?

Picture this: it’s a sunny day; warm but not too hot. Maybe around 24 degrees celsius. There’s a warm breeze; it’s not stifling, and it’s not cold enough to make you shiver. The trees rustle with the sound of the wind; change is in the air. You can go out in short sleeves, perhaps with the thinnest of cardigans if like me your metabolism basically died 300 years ago.

20. preferred place to write (i.e., in a note book, on your laptop, sketchpad, post-it notes, etc.)?

Depends on what I’m writing. I am the kind of ineffectual person who starts to write tings in a notebook, but also a couple of word docs. I have post- it notes for important things. I document ideas for my comic in a note/sketch book. I love doodling in my sketchbooks.

22. role model?

I never really had one, growing up. I guess the closest I’d get is David Attenborough.

24. favorite crystal?

My birthstone is ruby (which is red; my favourite colour!) however I also love opals; I love their irdescent (OK, opalescent, technically) sparkliness and the way they shimmer with lots of colours. I don’t see why everyone prefers massive diamonds when opals are like... so much cooler. I I don’t actually own any, but maybe one day I’ll be able to buy myself a nice one.

26. favorite activity to do in warm weather?

Go for a nice long walk, take lots of pictures, have a picnic in the park. No, I lie, my favourite activity is roping someone I care about into doing it all with me, and having even more fun.

28. five songs to describe you?

Home - Ellie Goulding Fight Song - Rachel Platten Working Woman’s Blues - Valerie June Alive - Bird Set Free My Medea - Vienna Teng

30. places that you find sacred?

Already been answered.

32. top five favorite vines?

Alas, hard to name off the top of my head. I mainly know vines from various compilations.

34. advertisements you have stuck in your head?

Right now? Thankfully none of them.

36. what is the first meme you remember ever seeing?

That’s impossible to say! Memes were a thing before internet memes became a thing. I’d say that ‘S’ shape we all drew in primary school? Nursery rhymes? Who knows.

38. lemonade or tea?

They don’t usually compete for my love, but i have tea more often than lemonade, purely due to availability reasons.

40. weirdest thing to ever happen at your school?

Some students climbed onto the roof.

42. jacket pockets or pants pockets?

Honestly? Skirt pockets. But being a woman, jacket pockets are usually woefully ineffectual and small. Trouser pockets are a bit better, but again usually small. Whereas if someone puts pockets on a skirt, they make sure they are actually proper pockets!

44. favorite scent for soap?

Maybe honey, or roses, or jasmine.

46. most comfortable outfit to sleep in?

A baggy pair of PJs; I’m a dress for comfort kind of girl. Particularly since the places I’ve lived haven’t always been great in the heating department. I’ve been known to sleep in a hoodie when it gets cold.

48. if you were a fruit, what kind would you be?

I would like to be a berry, or maybe an apple. Something pinkish red. Sweet, and a little sharp.

50. what made you laugh the hardest you ever have?

Probably my little brother astounding me with how grown-up he is about things. He’s pretty awesome. Or my mum just saying something wildly, hilariously inappropriate XD

52. favorite font?

I love the Komika font family for my comic. I used to use Bookman Old Style, Book Antiqa, Georgia or classic Arial for essays and things like that, when they didn’t specify Times New Roman.

54. what did you learn from your first job?

Always call the med reg if you are stuck, be nice to the nurses and always help each other. OK, I did lots of volunteering in hospital before FY1. In which case my

56. favorite tradition?

My family/culture have a specific tradition on the morning of an exam/interview/life event where you fill a cup with water and a couple of plant leaves (Slavs love putting greenery into everything). You place it at the threshold, and give it a good kick it with your dominant foot. It symbolises your knowledge flowing, and I guess it’s a good luck charm.. You also aren’t meant to look back (literally); because you should be focusing on the task at hand. As a kid it was a comforting good luck ritual, and I don’t think I ever really grew out of it.

58. four talents you’re proud of having?

I’m proud of my artistic skills, modest though they are. I enjoy creating, and I enjoy that I can make things to cheer up my friends, or things that people here can relate to.

By extension, I’m good with my hands, and that usually translates to picking up procedures and things like that pretty quickly at work. And yes, I love being able to get that cannula in (especially if it’s on the first go!) when nobody else can. It’s a tiny, tiny thing, but it sparks a little joy. I can develop good rapports with people; which means I can help them to confide their problems, and can help them to feel better or to address things that are bothering them. It’s really mostly about listening and not being judgemental. I am proud that I can sometimes make people feel better, and feel listened to. I’m proud that I learned to try to work through my feelings. As a young person who was really quite stressed, I somehow learned how to apply what’s basically CBT to keep myself relatively sane, and I think it’s helped me a lot. It was only much later that I realised it was basically CBT when I was comparing notes with friends actually going through those kinds of therapies. I’m not perfect at it, and my mind tests me on a regular basis, but it helps.

60. if you were a character in an anime, what kind of anime would you want it to be?

I don’t know what I’d like to be in? Maybe a Ghibli film. I think I’d like that. When I was at school, a close friend of mine just turned around and said “OMG, you’re just like an anime character”, to fervent agreement from my peers. I guess they meant one of those chirpy, ditzy shojo anime characters. I can still see myself as some shojo series heroine; frantically trying to keep it together under the pressures of magical girldom, being romantically inept, trying to fight off the baddie of the week whilst learning lessons about getting along with each other, being helpful and not being mean.

62. seven characters you relate to?

Right now? Sophie from Howl’s moving castle, Princess Carolyn from Bojack Horseman, Miranda Otto from D. Gray-Man, Elinor Dashwood from Sense and Sensibility, The Red Blood Cell from Cells at Work, Kiki from Kiki’s delivery service, and Aggressive Retsuko.

64. favorite website from your childhood?

I used to love looking at other people’s art on Elfwood or Deviantart.

66. favorite flower(s)?

Today I’m feeling the answer is lilacs.

68. worst flavor of any food or drink you’ve ever tried?

Ugh anything bitter.

70. left or right handed?

I’m ridiculously right handed, but I’ve learned to use my left hand more effectively because of procedures etc. I’m really good with my hands, but my right hand takes over like 80% of the work.

72. worst subject?

PE in school, biochemistry at university.

74. at what pain level out of ten (1 through 10) do you have to be at before you take an advil or ibuprofen?

At home, maybe a 3, because I don’t see the point in suffering needlessly. However at work I’ll do whatever it takes to keep functional including taking pain relief before it gets bad because I don’t want to have to deal with pain and an on-call. I’m not sure if the scale is logarithmic? I’d rate the worst pain that I’ve had 5 ot a 6, and that made me vomit and curl up into a ball and basically unable to do anything. But I can imagine pain that’s much, much worse than that was, so perhaps I just can’t thin

76. what’s your favorite potato food (i.e. tater tots, baked potatoes, fries, chips, etc.)?

This kind of new potato salad my mum makes with onions. Raw onions are totally a trigger food for my IBS, and any time my mum feeds me anything full of onions, she’ll tell me I can take them out if they upset my tummy. And every single time I’ll pile even more onions into my plate because there’s no way I’m letting my gut dictate my life. Turns out, I’m even more stubborn than my IBS; I just don’t want to give up some of the foods that set things off. My GP once recommended a FODMAP diet, and having had a look at all the stuff I’d have to cut, I resolved I’d only start cutting things if my symptoms got really bad.

78. coffee from a gas station or sushi from a grocery store?

Honestly, I have no pretentions to snobbery. The best coffee is the one you get when you are about to collapse on a night shift, even if much, much better coffee exists in the world. And the best sushi is the plain supermarket one you get between on-calls to treat yourself, even if the one from a good restaurat is so much nicer.

80. earth tones or jewel tones?

I wear a lot of jewel tones, but I also wear a lot of earth tones, and I don’t really see them as being in competition. Rock all the colours!

82. pc or console?

Phone. XD I don’t play much on either, mainly due to time. Phone has the benefit of being in my pocket when I’m at a loose end on the bus, or at my parents’. I don’t sit down and make time to play, I play games in the stolen minutes here and there when I don’t have much to do.

84. podcasts or talk radio?

Classical music radio in the office (because it’s the most neutral), retro stations in the car (or whatever your guests would like), and podcasts at home when you are by yourself.

84. barbie or polly pocket?

I didn’t have a real Barbie (fairly sure ours were knockoff dolls) but I do have fond memories of making outfits for our toys. Though our favourites were always various little animal models who got into all sorts of adventures.

86. cookies or cupcakes?

Cookies, but it’s a close call. Really, I’d have to say biscuits, since I eat those more often than either of the above.

88. your greatest wish?

For myself? To be happy. For others? Ditto.

90. luckiest mistake?

Getting into my first degree. Feels like I fell into it, but it set me off on a great path, and I don’t regret that my initial path was far from straightforward.

92. lamps, overhead lights, sunlight or fairy lights?

All of the above.

94. favorite season?

That kind of Spring-Summer interface when all the plants are in bloom, and the weather is warm but not too hot, and the days are long.

96. desktop background?

Arietty’s bedroom from the Ghibli Borrowers film adaptation. I’m a sucker for ghibli aesthetic; usually because my rooms end up similarly haphazardly adorned with cool things.

98. favorite historical era?

Every era has its own awesomeness. I feel very fondly for the regency period because of all the books I’ve read set in it, likewise the Victorian period. Though both aren’t without their problems. I realised that I style my hair like a Victorian; centrally parted with a neat, low bun at the nape of the neck. XD

I think that might be all the questions! Phew!

#ask meme #personal #my life #askdx #ask dx

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bigyack-com · 4 years

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‘The Far Side’ Is Back. Sort Of. Gary Larson Will Explain.

Just shy of 25 years since its last original installment, the offbeat comic strip “The Far Side” has returned. In a manner of speaking, but please don’t call it a comeback.“I’m not ‘back,’ at least in the sense I think you’re asking,” said Gary Larson, the cartoonist who created it, via email last week ahead of a website revival. “Returning to the world of deadlines isn’t exactly on my to-do list.” Beginning Tuesday, the “Far Side” site will provide visitors with “The Daily Dose,” a random selection of past cartoons, along with a weekly set of strips arranged by theme. There will also be a look at doodles from the sketchbooks of Larson, who said: “I’m looking forward to slipping in some new things every so often.” (Previously, there was no content on the site.)“The Far Side” became a cultural phenomenon after it appeared in The San Francisco Chronicle on Jan. 1, 1980. The single-panel comic, which ran until Larson, now 69, retired in 1995, featured men, women, children, animals and insects in often offbeat and sometimes inscrutable situations. One installment, “Cow Tools,” featured a bovine in front of a worktable with an odd assortment of implements. The image was described on Reddit as the comic’s most “notoriously confusing cartoon.” There were also occasional controversies: A chimp once described Jane Goodall as a tramp, though she later wrote the foreword for a collected edition of the series. One scientist even named an insect after Larson. After stepping away from his daily deadline 24 years ago, Larson said he rarely drew, except for Christmas cards. But even that was not easy. It “had turned into an annual pain because I seemed to always be dealing with clogged pens, dried-up markers, or something else related to lack of use,” he said. That changed when he tried working on a digital tablet. “Lo and behold, within moments I found myself having fun drawing again,” he said. Here are edited excerpts from the email interview.What was your inspiration for “The Far Side?”It probably all started with “Alley Oop.” I had always liked to draw as a kid, and I remember being grabbed visually by that strip. I was especially fascinated with the dinosaurs, and that’s when I started drawing my own, along with other animals. No cows, though. Later came a major influence from Mad magazine, especially the style and humor of Don Martin. I think that’s the first time I actually laughed at a cartoon. Still later I was taken with the cartoons of Gahan Wilson, B. Kliban and George Booth. All these cartoonists seemed to attach a lot of importance to nuance and composition. There was something almost organic going on between the humor and the art that conveyed it.Did any cartoons provoke controversy?Man, controversy never seemed too far away from me, especially during my first year of syndication. I truly thought my career may have ended a number of times. I remember one I did of a couple dogs that were playing this game, where they were smacking around a cat hanging from a long rope attached to a pole. I called it “Tethercat.” To me, and I assume my editor, it didn’t cross any line because this was just a game dogs might play. But that one got people stirred up. Especially cat people. Doing something controversial was never my intention. This was just my sense of humor, and the kind of humor in my family. I never drew anything my mom wouldn’t have laughed at. Of course, my mom was insane. I’m kidding! Well, maybe a little.I’ll forever be grateful to fans, who in those early days often rescued “The Far Side” from cancellation, or campaigned to get it reinstated. Why did you avoid recurring characters?I would have felt locked in. I just wanted to go anywhere my mind would take me, from bacteria to outer space.When I first met the editor of my syndicate-to-be, he asked about developing recurring characters. The moment scared me. I didn’t have a clue on how to approach character-based cartooning. And then he dropped the idea just a few minutes after bringing it up. To me, characters were only in a cartoon to serve an idea, to play a supportive role just like any film actor might, but in a film so short it was only a single frame.But my own version of central casting started taking shape. I could sometimes be asked by someone if I would draw “that nerdy kid” or “that woman with the beehive hairdo” and of course I knew who they meant. But I didn’t assign a specific name or persona to any of them. One of my characters could be teaching a class one day and get trampled by an elephant the next. You would never want to get too attached.Was it initially tough to pitch “The Far Side” to newspapers or your agent?I never really “pitched” my cartoons to anyone. Seems to me cartoons have to speak for themselves. My goal was to see if I could get editors to just look at my work. Other than that, I stayed out of it.I did manage to sell a handful of cartoons to one very small weekly, for which I received $5 each. Aside from that, though, the few doors I knocked on were of the revolving kind. But the handful of times an editor actually did look at my work, not only did he or she not rain on my parade, they seemed to take a genuine interest in me, and ended up giving my self-confidence a boost. Then a big shot in the arm was when The Seattle Times started running my cartoons on a weekly basis. It didn’t last forever — too many complaints, I was told — but it ultimately motivated me to head down to San Francisco, where I walked through the doors (again, unannounced) of The San Francisco Chronicle, and the rest, as they say …At what point did you know the strip was a success?My own benchmark for success was pretty basic — I just wanted to be able to pay my rent. Beyond reaching that goal I really didn’t care much. I was doing something I loved, getting by, and that’s what mattered. So, in my own eyes, I think I became successful somewhere in my second year. But I’m not sure I ever quite shook the sense that the whole thing might be a house of cards. I always felt like yesterday’s cartoon was yesterday’s cartoon, and I was only as funny as today’s.And then there was “Cow Tools.”“Cow Tools” is difficult to describe, so I don’t think I should attempt it here or it could turn into an essay. But the bottom line is that it was a massively confusing cartoon. When that came out, suddenly I found myself being called by reporters and doing interviews about a cartoon with the inane title, “Cow Tools.” I think one newspaper even held a contest to see if anyone could figure out what it meant. It got kind of wild.But, in a weird way, this is how I first came to realize that there was something going on, and that there were other humans actually reading my cartoons. Cartooning is kind of a loner endeavor. You draw stuff, you mail it in, draw stuff, mail it in. Which “Far Side” cartoons are your favorites?I’ve always been more inclined to remember the ones I wish I hadn’t done. There was a time when I felt embarrassed about a fair number of them, mostly because I thought they were kind of stupid or corny. Or they flat-out tanked. But now when I look back at those cartoons, I think many of them have a kind of innocence to them, and they don’t bother me so much.As for favorites, these days I’m actually having a harder time just remembering many of them. I don’t have cause to look at them very often, and when I do it feels sort of like bumping into an old friend you haven’t seen or thought about for years. Are there any strips you wish you could take another stab at?I retroactively tweaked some captions on a handful of cartoons after they were initially published, trying to dial them in just a little better, but I almost regret doing even that. I think it’s possible to keep refining something until you’ve managed to kill it. Even the warts probably play a role. What is it like to have two species named after you?Amazing. And truly flattering. Truthfully, I think it’s officially only one species, a chewing louse that lives exclusively on owls. I believe the other one, an Ecuadorean butterfly, hit some kind of taxonomic snag. But hey, I’m honored to get the louse! I can die now. Read the full article

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midnightinkdreams · 7 years

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Iridescence

Pairing: Bodhi Rook x Reader

A/N: I don’t know where this came from. I wrote it in a couple of hours and it’s entirely fluff and I really need to write more of this sort of thing cause it was incredibly fun. [Though I’m not too sure about the ending.] So here, have a college!AU with art student Bodhi.

Also, this is not proofread, so feel free to point out any mistakes.

Summary/Preview: Mostly based off this post:

“You’re an Art student and I’m an English major and you keep stealing the papers for my assignment to doodle and I would kill you but you’re really cute and hey that’s actually a really nice sketch” AU.

The second floor of the library, a group study area that is your usual haunt, is almost deserted-- which is rare for a Monday night regardless of the lateness of the hour-- and you had been completely focused on one of the readings for your Shakespeare class. Until you had finished it mere moments ago and discovered that you can’t find the next of your assignments.

“Bodhi, did you take that article on Hamlet that I was supposed to be reading?” you finally ask your friend, looking up from your search of the stacks of books and stray papers sprawled across your part of the table.

“Oh, I kind of.. drew all over it?” he looks at you almost apologetically, his eyebrows drawn together and his shoulders raised, and everything about his posture screams of nervousness.

It’s decidedly odd. After all, this is nothing new. Ever since you had started spending nights studying with Bodhi at the library, he has developed a penchant for ‘borrowing’ any of your papers that he can get his hands on.

You learned fairly early in your friendship that he can’t go to long without at least doodling something and since he usually only studies theory when he’s in the library with you, he never seems to have his sketchbook with him.

You’ve never minded because the random little drawings in the margins make you smile even when you’re plodding through a particularly dull essay.

Of course, there’s also the fact that you think he’s incredibly cute-- and you’d be lying if you said you didn’t have a huge crush on him-- and you won’t deny that you love watching him draw. There’s something wonderful about the way he throws himself into even the most casual of sketches. And after the first few times that he began to apologize, you had managed to convince him that you have no issues with this habit of his.

So yeah, this reaction from him, now, is definitely strange.

“Yeah, that’s fine, I’m used to it, remember? And besides, you always give them back,” you tell him, growing increasingly suspicious by the moment.

He’s refusing to look at you now and just as you’re about to ask him what’s wrong he speaks up.

“I’ll go to the GSO and print you a new copy,” his eyes are darting about now as he looks anywhere but at you, and is that a blush colouring his cheeks?

You can’t dwell too long on this though, because he starts to get up and you reach out immediately, snagging his arm before he’s even completely out of his chair.

“Oh no you don’t! Now you’ve made me curious,” you exclaim, leaning forward, eyes fixed on his in the hope that this will pressurize him into actually meeting your gaze, “Come on, Bodhi, you know I like having your doodles all over my stuff.”

You know even as you say the words that they could be misconstrued as something completely inappropriate but even as you begin to kick yourself over them, you realize that he hasn’t even noticed.

And for a minute you think that he’s going to shake you off and bolt but then, finally, he lets out a long sigh and sits back down. So you let go of his arm and wait, attempting to be patient as he pulls out the article you had been looking for from under his pile of textbooks and then simply looks at it instead of handing it over.

You lean in a little more, craning your neck and trying to get a glimpse of this mysterious drawing that he is so loath to show you.

“Okay, here,” he huffs just as you’re about to give up and snatch it from him, “I just...I’m sorry.”

At first you’re a little confused, he hasn’t apologized for this in a long while, not since that week all those months ago when he first developed this habit. And then he’s handed the paper over and all you can do is gasp, and then proceed to stare open-mouthed, speechless.

Because he’s drawn you- or to be precise, he’s drawn the pair of you in a lawn somewhere- you lying on your back with your head in his lap, lips curved into a lazy smile and a book propped open against your legs.

And him with his hands in your hair, leaning over you, pressing a kiss between your brows.

Your heart is suddenly beating faster and there are butterflies in your stomach and you can feel your cheeks heating up with a blush to match the one you find on Bodhi’s face when your eyes flick between him and the scene he has drawn.

What can you say? That he’s brilliant? That he’s drawn you too perfectly because you’re nowhere near that radiant? That you’re in love with the way he’s drawn himself? That now you’re dying to actually feel his fingers in your hair, his lips on your forehead?

“Is that...” is what you begin to say instead, and trail off, because try as you might you can’t stop the wide grin suddenly spreading across your face, “is that us?”

He clears his throat, shuffles his feet, blushes a little harder, and damn it, he’s even cuter like this, “Yeah, it is. I’m sorry, ___. I don’t know what I was thinking.”

“Well, I may be way off base here so stop me if I’m wrong but maybe you were thinking that you like me, and you want there to be an ‘us’,” you manage to get out all the words without stuttering or freezing up even as an inner monologue of ‘please let him say yes, please let this end well’ starts running through your head on repeat.

His eyes flash back up to yours instantly and you can see the surprise flit across his face clear as day before he lick his lips and settles for a hesitant smile.

“And if I was thinking that?”

You almost laugh out loud with joy, you are so damn relieved (you can’t quite believe this is happening, but there’s no way you’re backing out now).

“Then I’d tell you that I like you too,” you say, your heartbeat slowing, your smile mellowing, though you still feel like you’re on cloud nine, “and I’d ask you to get coffee with me Friday evening, or dinner, or anything really.”

“Yes, of course, to any of those, I’d love to go out with you, it’s a date,” his words tumble over the end of your sentence and he offers you a slightly sheepish smile, “sorry, I didn’t mean to interrupt.”

You simply shrug, waving off his apology, entirely unnecessary as it is. And gods, just the way he’s looking at you-- his eyes display nothing but love and his smile is ever so affectionate and it would seem that he wants you just as much as you want him-- it gives you such a rush!

“That’s okay,” is all you can say in reply, and it feels painfully inadequate but Bodhi doesn’t seem the least bit perturbed.

And for several long minutes, you simply stare at each other until you find that your gaze keeps darting to his lips now and you shake yourself out of it with a sigh.

“Oh, and this sketch- it’s beautiful,” you tell him, and the shy smile on his face gives you the confidence to continue, “we should do that sometime, have a picnic, and I wouldn’t mind if you kissed me properly.”

You clap a hand over your mouth as soon as the words are past your lips and you would be dying of embarrassment right now if not for the fact that Bodhi doesn’t seem the least bit bothered—you haven’t even actually gone on a date and you’re already talking about kissing him-- oh no, not at all, he’s actually giggling and his eyes are sparkling with mirth and it’s just so damn adorable.

But then, just as suddenly, he’s smirking, and your breath hitches, and “___,” he begins, “I don’t know if you’ve noticed but there’s no one else around so I could just kiss you properly now.”

And so he does (once you’ve recovered from your outburst of laughter) and it’s everything you’d hoped for. And more. Obviously.

#bodhi rook x reader #rogue one reader insert #bodhi x reader #bodhi rook #reader insert #fanfic #oneshot

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neriede · 7 years

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Kingdom Hearts Other Diamonds - The Twilight (KH Novel Translation)

So @moeblob drew a little doodle of my rare pair, and it inspired me to just go ahead and translate the chapter in the novel that the doodle’s based on. Enjoy Namine being a sad and a cute (also Hayner being a lil’ shit).

I did take some liberties with some weird pronoun usage, and in a couple places to make it flow better in English, but it’s for the most part a direct translation.

The light of the sun was flowing in from the large window.

Namine opened the curtain just a bare smidge, gazing absent-mindedly at the outside.

This house was said to be haunted, and so the townspeople hardly went near the place—it was for this reason that there was practically no sign of any human presence. Occasionally the cries of birds from the forest in front of the mansion could be heard, but that was about the extent of it.

The sunlight properly lighting up the room, the ability to look over the forest and see how it was doing—this was the only room where that was possible. The room was the same pure white as that of Castle Oblivion, and yet being in this room was different, wasn’t unpleasant.

Before her very eyes, Riku and Axel would leave the castle, often and immediately. Time and time again—that was the state of things.

And because they never brought her along with them, she drew pictures in her sketchbook, alone in this room, and then stuck them to the walls. Today she was attempting to draw the two of them.

It wasn’t Riku in Ansem’s form—it was the Riku from before, in his original form. Axel was eating ice cream.

Together like that, they were on the verge of laughter.

It had somehow come to the point where Riku and Axel really got on well with each other. Since Riku was unfortunately in Ansem’s form, he normally didn’t speak much. However, whenever he was eating ice cream with Axel, he would laugh like a changed man. In those moments, even though Axel would say things like, “Don’t laugh with that creepy face!” it was the closest he was to being himself.*

Of course, Axel loved sea-salt ice cream.

If left to his own devices while he was in the mansion, Axel would be eating sea-salt ice cream the whole time. It didn’t seem like he ever got anything like an upset stomach, and he was always thinking about eating it, always in the mood for it. The refrigerator in the computer room was stuffed full of them, never empty, even though he ate them every single day.

When she had met Axel for the first time in Castle Oblivion, she never imagined he might have this sort of side to him.

He had seemed like such a terrible person.

But being acquainted with Roxas’ memories, she didn’t consider him to be that terrible person anymore.

Namine closed the curtain and sat herself in the chair.

On top of the table in front of her, the drawing of Axel and Riku she’d just been working on smiled up at her.

No matter how much she said she loved to draw, this was a bit tedious.

She’d gotten accustomed to the passing of time, all alone.

Even in Castle Oblivion she’d mostly been left all on her own, and even though DiZ had been at the mansion during the one year when Sora had been sleeping, they almost never met face to face.

Things like this were why she didn’t feel particularly lonely.

But it was tedious.

When Riku and Axel were both here, things weren’t very boring at all.

I tell those two all about Sora and his friends, spread out over all kinds of worlds.

And the three of us, we discuss the dealings of the Organization in those worlds.

Sora, Donald, Goofy, Roxas, and even after all that the Replica who was my precious friend … I’ve never been able to just talk with anyone, not like this.

Ever since I was born—well, I don’t really remember the moment of my birth, but I’d always been in Castle Oblivion. Surrounded by Organization members, I was alone.

That’s why the times when it’s the three of us are so fun.

I thought I wasn’t lonely, but maybe now … is this what loneliness feels like?

I don’t have a heart, but this … somehow I get the feeling I understand what loneliness is now.

Namine breathed a small sigh, hanging the weight of her body on her back, causing the chair to tilt.

Come to think of it, it hadn’t been too long ago—Axel had tilted this very chair, and had fallen right on his back.

Namine remembered it and laughed, feeling her own small voice resounding throughout the quiet room.

Ah … perhaps … of course … I really do feel lonely.

I don’t know when Riku and Axel will come back.

Even though I believe that they have to return eventually, the possibility remains that they don’t come come back.

We are pursuing the Organization, after all.

As Namine stopped moving, likewise the chair stopped tilting.

If the two of them ever disappeared, what would I do?

I don’t really know for sure.

The way I am now, the thought of them not existing anymore is unimaginable.

Namine gazed at the Riku and Axel in her sketchbook.

Suddenly, she could hear the sound of someone’s voice from outside the mansion, and she raised her head.

Somebody’s … coming?

Quietly, Namine stood up and looked down on the garden from the crack in the curtain.

“Weren’t we told not to come here?”

“There’s no such thing as ghosts.”

“Won’t you quit it already?”

Somewhere in between the girl’s warning and the other boy’s reply, the chubby boy’s expression became troubled. Hayner, Pence, and also Olette—that’s who was down there.

Namine knew about these three people. In that fake town they’d been “assigned” as Roxas’ friends, and prior to that she’d known very little about them.

“Come on, Hayner!”

“If you’re gonna be like that, then maybe it’s not such a good idea for you to tag along.”

Angry, Olette turned her face away, and likewise Hayner turned his head in a similar manner. Even from so far away, Namine could understand what was happening, and she let out an unintentional chuckle.

Now that she thought about it, these guys were also a three-person group.

Her and Riku and Axel—and then there was Sora, Donald, and Goofy. Sora and Riku, and Kairi as well, they were all a three-person group.

Her group wasn’t as lively as Sora, Donald, and Goofy, nor were they as close as Sora, Riku, and Kairi. But she thought they were friends, and had goals and things in common that bound them together.

“Would you two stop fighting?!”

Flustered, Pence looked back and forth at the other two’s silent backs.

“Well then. Guess I’m going home.”

It was Olette who broke the silence. She briskly headed back in to the forest alone.

“Is she gonna be okay…?” Pence asked Hayner as he crossed his arms, watching Olette’s retreating back with worry.

“Let her be, that one. Seifer and his gang wouldn’t come out all the way here, and like I said, there’s no such thing as ghosts!”

“If you say so…Oh!”

Pence lifted his head up, looking like he’d just seen something, and Hayner rushed over to him in a panic.

“J-j-j-j-just now, the curtain moved!”

At Pence’s words, Namine hid behind the curtain.

“Now wait, isn’t that the one we said was just swaying in the wind?”

“It moved again!”

Hayner gave a resigned sigh, and Pence pointed at the window as he spoke once more, “But look, that window’s completely closed!”

“Oh really? Woah! It moved!”

This time it was Hayner who jumped. Namine peeked outside the curtain, placing her hands on her chest and breathing deeply.

“You know that reminds me—there’s that rumor about a suspicious guy coming and going around,” Pence crossed his arms.

“The black coat guy? The old lady at the sweets shop was saying something about that, right?” Hayner also crossed his arms.

Namine smiled wide at their conversation.

The black coat guy the sweets shop lady had mentioned was probably Axel.

From time to time Axel would leave the mansion all on his own and set out towards the town. Riku’s expression was never good in response to such behavior, but nonetheless, based on what she was hearing it didn’t seem like Axel had stopped going out.

“Now wait a minute,” Hayner scratched his head as he spoke, “Isn’t that old lady at the shop going a bit senile lately?”

“You think so…? I don’t think that’s it though.”

“But wouldn’t it be weird for a black coat guy to just show up out of nowhere?! And the old lady hasn’t said anything about anyone actually looking suspicious, has she?”

“Yeah...well, that’s certainly true, but…I mean, have anyone of us seen a black coat guy anywhere around?”

“Huh?”

At Pence’s question Hayner stopped moving. His head tilted to one side and his eyebrows knitted together, “Don’t we know every single person in this town?”

“Yeah,” Pence resolutely nodded at Hayner’s words.

“You know of any black coat dudes in this town?”

“I don’t, but...what about someone who came from the train station?”

“If a stranger came from the train station, wouldn’t we immediately know about it?”

“I suppose that’s true, but...”

“I’ve never seen seen any black coat guy!”

At Hayner’s clear assertion, Pence began to seriously think about it, “Is that...really so…?”

“That’s what I said! Maaan, now I’m hungry,” Hayner started a long stretch.

“Sea-salt ice cream again?” Pence suggested, lifting his head.

“Would it be anything else?” Hayner replied, quickly running towards the forest.

Pence gave chase after him, breaking in to a run.

Namine’s face peered out of the curtain, watching their retreating backs.

Now that she thought about it, she’d only ever gotten ice cream out of the fridge in the computer room—she’d never purchased and eaten the ice cream from this town’s shop. More than likely the taste was the same, but perhaps if she ate the ice cream outside, it’d have a different flavor than before.

“Just a little...should be fine,” Namine murmured reassuringly to herself.

Axel had done it, there were no signs of any Nobodies or Heartless on the mansion grounds, and in case of emergency she could always use a corridor of darkness—

Namine clenched her fists.

She abruptly turned around, making to run for the door.

Namine walked the gloomy forest with her head hung low.

In her tightly closed fist was gripped a single 50 Munny coin. To be honest, this was the first time in her life that she’d ever held money. She had gathered this precious token from the first floor drawing room, where someone had been left it behind. She knew there was still money that hadn’t been used up in the safe in the basement laboratory, but that was DiZ’s money, and so she hadn’t felt right about using it.

But if it was money she had happened to find...well surely that was okay, right?

Namine raised her face, surveying the depths of the forest around her. It had a bit of a gloomy and scary atmosphere, but it had been a long time since she’d breathed the outside air, and it felt really good.

As she kept walking the winding and twisting road, she ran in to a wall. She passed through an opening in it, and found herself right inside the tram common.

Namine blinked her eyes, flooded by light after having been inside the dark forest.

And just like that, she saw a trolley passing by her.

Despite the fact that she shouldn’t have a heart, her chest quickly started pounding triumphantly, and she understood what it meant for one’s own heart to start jumping for joy.

Namine held the hand that carried the coin to her chest, squeezing it once more, and started to walk with just the barest of nimble steps.

If she wasn’t mistaken, the old sweets lady’s shop would be just beyond this point if she just went straight ahead.

She knew every inch of this town, and yet she’d never actually walked inside the real town for herself before.

In the space between the buildings, the old sweets lady’s shop appeared.

“I’ll have two!”

Beside Pence, who was already nibbling away at his own ice cream, Hayner held up two fingers as he gave the old lady his order.

“For Olette?” Pence asked.

“Uh...yeah, you got a problem with that?!”

“Noooo~?” Pence smirked at the way Hayner had shouted, “I’ll pay half too. Here ya go, 10 Munny.”

He placed a 10 Munny coin on top of the counter.

“Oh my. Who gets the change, then?” the old lady tilted her head to one side.

“He’s doing me the favor, so I’ll just take the 10 Munny.”

“Oh sure, sure,” the old lady slid the coin over to Hayner, who stowed it away in his pocket, before she handed over the two ice creams.

“If we don’t find Olette soon, it’s gonna melt!”

“I know that!”

With one ice cream in each hand, Hayner started to dash off when he looked back over his shoulder...and saw Namine standing there.

“Oh...”

Without thinking about it she froze, and for a single moment Hayner didn’t move either, before he once more set out in a run.

“Hayner?”

Pence, who hadn’t been as quick, turned back and also noticed Namine. He looked restlessly back and forth between Namine’s face and Hayner’s back, before scrambling to catch up with the boy who had already left.

“Wait up, Hayner!”

Namine calmly watched their retreating backs, breathing a sigh of relief. Then, with one more deep breath, she slowly began to walk towards the shop.

“Um, excuse me...”

“Who’s there??” the old lady lifted her head, “Oooh, a first-timer, eh?”

“Um, sea-salt ice cream, one please,” Namine gave her order, her fist still closed over her chest.

“Sure thing! Give me a sec.”

With slow movements, the old lady produced an ice cream from somewhere near her feet, and handed it to Namine.

She took it with the hand that wasn’t gripping her money and asked, “How much is it? The ice cream?”

“That’ll be 20 Munny!”

Namine stretched her hand with the money out in front of her, holding it straight out and opening it for the old lady.

“You’re change is 30 Munny.”

The old lady received the coin from the flat of Namine’s palm and replaced it with her change.

“Come again!” she smiled so sweetly.

“…again. I’ll come back,” Namine returned the smile, and slowly turned on her original path, starting to walk with ice cream in hand.

That’s when she realized.

Where was she going to eat this ice cream…?

“Um, excause me!” Namine quickly turned back towards the shop, once more troubling the old lady.

“What is it?”

“Is it okay if I eat this here?”

“That is definitely okay!” a smile floated on the old lady’s face.

“Thank goodness!” Namine leaned against the counter wall and took a mouthful of ice cream.

The salty sweetness spread throughout her mouth, the same taste that sea-salt ice cream always had.

But there was something special about it, Namine thought.

“Tasty, no?” the old lady asked.

“It’s delicious!”

“That’s good.”

“Yeah.”

As Namine nodded a black cat nestled up near her legs and gave a small purr.

“You want some?” she squatted, stretching out the sea-salt ice cream to the cat.

In response the cat snuggled up against her feet and purred again.

“Oh ho, looks like the little fellow likes you,” said the old lady happily.

“Really?” Namine asked the cat.

At this the cat meowed once more.

Inside the warehouse underneath the train tracks—in the Usual Spot, Hayner and his gang were eating sea-salt ice cream. It seemed as though Hayner and Olette had managed to patch things up.

Sitting on top of the wooden boxes that had accumulated in a corner of the warehouse, Hayner at his ice cream the way he always did.

“Hey, Hayner.”

“Hmm?”

Pence, who had already finished his ice cream, looked Hayner in the eye, “That girl, where do you suppose she came from?”

At Pence’s inquiry, Hayner stopped moving.

“What do you mean ‘that girl’?” Olette asked the two of them.

“Just a little while ago in front of the old lady’s shop, there was a girl,” Pence answered, in lieu of Hayner’s deer-in-the-headlights state.

“A girl you didn’t know?” Olette moved closer with great interest, all the while eating her ice cream.

“And had never seen before! She had golden hair and was wearing a white dress. Tell her, Hayner!”

“Y-yeah,” Hayner nodding curtly.

“You think she moved in to town?” Pence looked up at Hayner.

“If that’s the case, maybe we’ll meet her at school when the new term starts,” Olette said, looking delighted.

“That would be nice,” Pence nodded.

“Hayner, are you listening even a little?” Olette asked Hayner, who was being a bit distant.

“Eh?”

At his surprised response, Olette sighed dejectedly, “Could it be...that girl was really cute?”

“She was! Maybe you’re on to something, Olette,” Pence once again answered.

“Maybe that’s why Hayner’s spacing out.”

“Th-that’s not it!” Hayner practically flew up and off the wooden box.

It was true, that girl had been pretty cute, but that wasn’t the reason he had zoned out.

That girl had had a kind of mysterious atmosphere about her.

“Good grief...” Olette said, resigned.

Hayner hung his head, down-hearted, then suddenly raised his head as if resolved about something, “You think we’ll see her again?!”

“When school starts up again, yeah,” Olette said, shrugging her shoulders and exchanging glances with Pence.

Namine had eaten her ice cream, said goodbye to the old lady, and then booked it back towards the mansion. She slammed the door of the white room completely shut, trying to gain control of the throbbing beat in her chest, and took one, large breath.

She could still hear the sound of her physical heart.

Namine sat in her chair and took out her sketchbook. Then she took out her black crayon and began drawing the black cat.

That was the first time she’d had that kind of conversation with someone, and it was the first time she’d eaten ice cream in such a place.

New things were fun—new places were fun.

She had gotten a sense from Sora’s memories—they were things that had touched her heart, but this was the first time she was feeling it for herself.

And furthermore, she’d met Hayner’s friends.

They hadn’t actually spoken to her, but—just meeting them had been nice.

“I should...definitely go again, don’t you think?” Namine whispered, as if speaking to the cat within the sketchbook.

She got the feeling the cat was purring, and she smiled.

It was the next day.

Namine quietly left the mansion, holding tightly on to her 30 Munny. Sea-salt ice cream cost 20 Munny, so she was still able to buy it one more time.

Riku and Axel still hadn’t come home last night.

But that was actually probably a good thing.

If they had met up yesterday, she would’ve definitely told them all about her time outside the mansion.

Axel would’ve certainly been scolded by Riku, who was somewhat prone to being a worrywart.

Moreover, worst case scenario, if the Organization learned of their existence here from the townspeople gossiping, it would be a grave situation indeed.

That’s why should couldn’t tell them about yesterday—she was sure of that, at least. But if she only dealt with the old lady from the shop, then surely that would be alright.

Namine made her way through the gloomy forest, passed through hole in the wall, and exited in to the town.

Today after buying her ice cream, she had plans to stroll through a little bit of the town.

She hadn’t had the chance to see the real clock tower at her own leisure yet.

Namine was going to go along a different path than yesterday, one that curved right from the hole in the wall, and she started walking parallel to the trolley tracks. Turn at the bulletin board, then straight ahead. After that, pass through under the overhead road. Exit on to the plaza where all the shops were lined up in a row. Namine’s feet stopped in front of the sweet shop lady’s store.

“Good day, ma’am.”

“Oh my, hello.”

The old lady smiled sweetly, the black cat on the counter purring just like yesterday.

“Sea-salt ice cream, one please.”

“Sure thing! Give me a sec.”

Namine placed two 10 Munny coins on the counter. That left her with 10 Munny. She wouldn’t be able to buy another sea-salt ice cream.

“There we go, don’t drop it now,” the old lady handed Namine the ice cream with a smile.

“Thank you,” Namine smiled as she replied, the cat purring softly.

“Come again!”

Namine bowed her head towards her, eating her ice cream as she entered the street in front of the train station. If she kept going up the slope from here, she’d arrive at Station Plaza after a bit of a hike. As she watched the children playing at the foot of the hill, Namine began to climb the hill with light steps.

If someone were to turn right at some point along the route, they’d reach Hayner and the gang’s Usual Spot.

Her feet stilled for a moment, and Namine peered in to the opposite side of the alleyway, before once again starting to climb the hill. The hill from this point on was a bit steep, and arriving here would lead one to a garage.

As she neared the garage, Namine had completely finished up her ice cream. Now, if she turned right at this garage and kept going straight ahead, she’d reach the Station Plaza. The moment she entered the plaza, the light of the setting sun flooded down upon her.

“So radiant...” she muttered before she could stop herself, holding one hand up to shade her eyes.

As if to get closer to the light she started walking, and birds scattered and took to the sky around her feet.

“Hey!”

“Who’s that?” at the sudden shout, Namine turned her head.

Sitting on the steps in front of the station was Hayner. Before a motionless and surprised Namine, Hayner also sported a surprised face, completely stock-still.

“...are you alright?”

She seemed to have said it instinctively, and Hayner stood up awkwardly, “I’m okay!”

“Oh, well then, that’s good,” Namine smiled, turning her head back to gaze at the setting sun.

This wasn’t her first time seeing the setting sun of Twilight Town. She had just the one memory of it, from when Axel had saved her. It had been lovely then as well, but today it was even more beautiful than ever.

At that moment, Namine’s vision was interrupted as Hayner rushed up in front of her.

“We met yesterday in the Tram Common, right?”

Namine didn’t know what to say in response to suddenly being talked to like that, and just stared fixedly at Hayner’s face.

“What’s your name?”

“...Namine.”

Her voice was small when she answered, and it made Hayner avert his eyes and scratch his head for a moment.

“My name’s Hayner. Where are you from?”

Namine looked away when questioned.

Even she didn’t fully understand where she’d come from.

She’d come from the haunted mansion today, sure—

But where did I really come from?

Seeing Namine’s troubled expression, Hayner walked closer, flustered. He had just one mouthful of ice cream left, and a drop melted and fell to the ground.

“Ummm...Sea-salt ice cream! I really love the stuff. Do you like it too?”

Namine quietly nodded.

“Guess it’s all melted though, huh?” Namine responded, pointing out the last bite he had.

At this Hayner stared, and took a deep breath, “So, y-you know...”

He was cut off by the resounding toll of a bell. They both reflexively looked up at the clock tower.

Across the way from them, the two chimes told them what time it was.

“Say, do you know the rumor about the ghosts that come out from the clock tower?”

“Huh?” Namine fixed her gaze on Hayner.

“That clock tower, the guard came to sweep up just like he does every half month, so nobody should’ve been able to climb up there. But sitting in front of the clock face were these two shadowy figures. They were standing next to each other and they looked like they might be people.”

The moment she heard Hayner’s story, she looked up once more at the clock tower, surprised.

“No one should be able to sit up there, right? That’s why people are saying it was a pair of ghosts.”

“A pair of ghosts...” Namine muttered, giggling a little.

Yeah, it definitely had to be those two.

She found it amusing that they were the same as her, getting mistaken for ghosts.

“Ya like ghost stories? Well then, here’s another one. On the outskirts of town, there’s this huge mansion...”

“Oh I know that ghost story. You can see a shadow of a girl on the second floor, right?”

“That’s right!”

At Namine’s smiling answer Hayner returned his own relieved smile, “That’s good, I got you to smile.”

“Hayner~!” from far away the sounds of restless footsteps mixed with Pence’s nearing voice.

Olette was right behind him.

“I have to go home,” Namine said, coming to her senses and taking a step back.

“What, already?”

“Sorry. Thank you.”

“Wha—What?! But I wanted to introduce you to everybody...”

Namine broke in to a run, leaving behind a surprised Hayner, his mouth hanging open.

“Oh?”

“Oh dear?”

When they realized Namine had fled, Pence and Olette also watched her go with shocked expressions.

“Wait!”

At Olette’s voice, Namine’s feet stopped for just a moment.

“Come and hang out with us!”

She could feel Pence’s voice on her back as well.

But she started running once more, without even looking back.

Namine slammed the door to the white room shut, breathing heavily with heaving shoulders, her eyes closed.

She really should not have spoken with townspeople like that.

If the Organization ever found out about it, there would be no going back from that.

And yet Hayner’s story had been interesting. She’d never spoken with a boy her own age before in such a way. Whenever she spoke with Sora it was always in such serious situations, and Riku didn’t really feel quite the same in age as her. It couldn’t be helped though—it was because Sora and Riku were special.

But Hayner was different.

He lived in the town and he was just a simple boy.

Pence and Olette too, they were an ordinary boy and girl.

They were different from her and her usual crowd.

Namine placed her hands on her chest, looking down in shame.

Her chest was still beating.

She really shouldn’t have left the mansion.

Namine was walking quietly by herself in the forest on the outskirts of town.

She hadn’t slept much last night.

Because she didn’t have another mere 10 Munny, she couldn’t buy any sea-salt ice cream.

Through that hole in the wall was the same town as always, Twilight Town—a special town.

Namine started walking, looking nowhere in particular.

It was then that she heard a voice.

“Don’t kick it there!”

“My bad, my bad!”

“You’re doing it wrong!”

That was Hayner, Pence, and Olette’s voices. Namine’s feet stopped.

The three were kicking a ball in front of the old lady’s shop.

“There!”

Penced kicked the ball and it rolled to a stop at Namine’s feet.

“Namine!”

“Hello,” As Hayner rushed over, a smile floated on to Namine’s face.

“Man, I thought we wouldn’t see you again.”

“I’m sorry for running off on you yesterday,” Namine picked up the ball from her feet and handed it to him.

“But you came back,” Hayner said relieved, smiling.

“What are you doing, Hayner?”

Olette ran up to him from behind, followed by Pence.

“Nice to meet you,” Namine quickly bowed her head at the two of them.

“Oh hey, you’re Namine!”

“I’m Pence!” he stretched his hand out and Namine shook it.

“I’m Olette. Nice to meet you,” Olette smiled fondly, and Namine nodded as she spoke.

“Did you just move here?”

At Pence’s question, Namine just smiled quietly.

The three of them traded worried glaces.

“So...Wanna eat some ice cream?”

Namine shook her head at Hayner’s invitation, “I’ve only got 10 Munny.”

“Then I’ll spot you half!”

“Me too, I’ll lend you some money!”

“And me!”

The three of them spoke all at once and exchanged smiling faces. Namine just couldn’t say no to that and giggled a little.

“Today will be our treat!”

“Thank you,” Namine looked down a bit at Pence’s words.

They all headed to line up in front of the sweets shop lady’s store.

“Yes, welcome! Oh my, I’ve got quite a crowd today!”

The old lady was, as always, smiling sweetly. The black cat was lying on top of her lap.

“Ice cream, ma’am. Four in total! For Namine’s share, you can charge me 10 Munny, and charge Pence and Olette 5 Munny apiece.”

“You’re fine with paying that much?” Olette looked a little concerned as she peeked in to Hayner’s coin purse.

“I said it’s fine!”

Hayner laid a collective 30 Munny on top of the counter, 20 for his own portion and 10 for Namine’s. Pence and Olette followed and laid down 25 Munny each.

“Alright, here ya go,” the old lady handed out ice cream to everyone.

“Thank you.”

Namine immediately took a bite, “…It’s sweet and salty.”

“That’s sea-salt ice cream for ya!” Pence answered, leaning his back against the same counter that Namine herself had leaned on the day before yesterday. Hayner lined up next to him, and Olette after that, and before long Namine also joined their side as a train crossed in front of them. Namine took advantage of the moment to open her mouth.

“I’m really glad I was able to meet you all.”

“We’ll meet up lots after this too!” Olette looked Namine in the eyes.

“Summer’s gonna be over soon though,” Hayner followed up.

Namine took another bite of ice cream and stepped in front of Hayner.

“Thank you, for the ice cream.”

“Don’t worry about it, it was nothing,” Hayner turned away, embarrassed.

Olette and Pence watched him with smirks on their faces.

“Today I came to say goodbye.”

“Huh?” Hayner stopped leaning on the counter and looked at her.

“Why?” Pence also stopped leaning and stood at her side.

“And after all we went through to finally meet you,” Olette also stood next to Namine.

She was completely surrounded by the three of them like this.

“We can’t meet up anymore.”

“…Why?”

“I’m sorry. I’m a witch—just a phantom.”

Namine took Hayner’s hand and placed her half-eaten ice cream in it.

“W-wait a second!...Namine?”

“And that’s why, we can’t meet again. Thanks, for the ice cream,” Namine smiled quietly and let go of Hayner’s hand, “Even if the chains of memories come apart, the fragments don’t disappear. Even if you all forget me, I won’t forget you.”

“What are you saying, Namine?”

“I’m sorry—goodbye, and thank you.”

Behind Namine a corridor of darkness opened—and just like that, it swallowed her up and disappeared.

At the sound of a small cat’s meowing, the three of them came to their senses and looked around them.

Since when was I standing next to the old lady’s shop?

“Hayner, were you daydreaming or something?”

Hayner turned at the sound of Olette’s astonished voice.

“Did you buy two ice creams without even realizing it?” Pence’s face appeared from behind Olette.

Pence spoke has he gazed at the other boy’s hands, where Hayner was gripping the two half-eaten sea-salt ice creams.

Why did he have an ice cream in both hands?

“I...I guess…?” Hayner tilted his head.

Hayner and Olette both gripped the ice creams in their hands.

From far away the sound of a bell could be heard, and Hayner lifted his head.

That’s right—ghosts coming out of the clock tower...hadn’t he just discussed that rumor with someone recently?

But he couldn’t remember.

Hayner absentmindedly bit in to his ice cream.

It was as sweet and salty as it ever was.

At his feet, the black cat snuggled up against his legs and meowed softly.

Namine was silently drawing a picture.

In the very middle of the sketchbook was a smiling Hayner, and after that were Pence and Olette.

These were her secret memories that she couldn’t share with anyone.

It would make her so happy if she could eat ice cream again in that town someday, but that was something beyond her control.

Because of her power to manipulate memories, they’d completely forgotten about her.

But even so, she wouldn’t forget.

She wouldn’t forget how they’d treated her to salty-sweet ice cream.

“Namine.”

She raised her head at the voice.

“Welcome back.”

“We’re back, Namine,” at Namine’s smiling face, Riku unfastened his hood as he replied.

“I’m here too!”

And there was Axel, sitting in the opposite chair. In his hand was already a sea-salt ice cream.

For now, if it was the three of them here, then that was fine.

My precious friends—Riku, Axel.

“How are Sora and his friends doing?” Namine asked the two of them, closing her sketchbook.

#Kingdom Hearts #Namine #Hayner #Pence #Olette #Neri's Translations

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