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#there’s some stuff in here that I would draw differently (I drew this a couple months ago)
zzariyo · 5 months
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Imagine being gay
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belovedwhore · 1 year
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pretty boy pt 3
ethan landry x reader
warnings: smut, little bit of plot, oral (m!receiving), lowkey sub ethan
notes: hey y’all here’s pt3, i hope this is better than pt2 and ik it seem like the reader not getting much but trust she gon get hers soon, i already have an idea for it so just stay tuned! also i will be writing other smut for ethan that is separate from this series so stay tuned for that too. thanks for all the love and welcome new followers!!! anyways enough chit chat hope you enjoy!
pt 1 , pt 2 , pt 3 , pt 4 , pt 5 , pt 6
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the morning after. you woke up before ethan just admiring the sleeping boy laid next to you, thinking about last night. something about him got you and he’s all you want. couple minutes after you woke up he began to stir, looking over at you as if you were a dream.
“good morning pretty boy,” you greeted.
“good morning,” he rasped in his morning voice. god if he was gonna sound like that in the mornings we’d be doing something different right now.
“what’d you think of last night,” you asked.
“it was great,” he blushed clearly reliving the events of last night.
“good, would you wanna do it more?”
“oh right now,-” he perked starting to sit up on the bed.
“easy there pretty boy,” you laughed, “i meant generally but i’ll just be taking that as a yes.”
“ohhh ok yea, definitely a yes,” he added, “imma go grab a shower, i’ll be right back.
he got up from the bed and walked around to your side, kissing you briefly before leaving the bedroom. you laid looking at the ceiling for a bit, thinking about last night once again. your thoughts were interrupted by a knock at the door,
“back already?” you called out.
“it’s me sex demon,” you heard tara say as she opened the door, “making sure you’re decent, god knows if you have clothes on after last night.”
“oh no were we loud?” you asked.
“no just the occasional ‘oh my god ethan’ ,” she faked moaned, “and can’t forget about the ‘oh oh oh my god,” in her best ethan voice.
“oh god, i can’t,” you covered your face with your hands, peeking through you started, “wait what about you and chad, anything happen?”
“nada, kinda a turn off when you and ethan are over here fucking like it’s your last day on earth.”
“ok we didn’t fuck yet just some… other stuff.”
“mmhmm, well you might wanna get out of sam’s room before she gets up here because she definitely thought you were in my room.”
“oh shit you’re right,” you said getting up off the bed and heading over to tara’s room.
as you walked to tara’s room you heard the shower running and knew ethan was in there.
“i have to get something from the bathroom.”
“ethan’s in there,” she stated.
you didn’t answer, just smiled as you walked backwards to the bathroom. tara flicked you off jokingly as you entered quickly and shut the door.
“hello,” you heard ethan call out from behind the curtain, “chad i swear to god if you’re trying to scare me right now-“
“not chad.”
poking his head out of the shower he saw you sitting there on the bathroom counter, “oh hey, i’m almost done in here so you should be good.”
“it’s hot as fuck in here,” you told him as you drew shapes on the mirror.
you heard him turn the faucet off and saw him reach out to grab his towel, “yea i usually take hot showers.”
he stepped out of the shower with the towel wrapped low on his waist, revealing his v-line. his hair was still curly, resting on his head like a mop. you beckoned him closer with your hand. as he came more within your reach you grab his hand and pulled him closer to you, kissing him passionately. he melted into the kiss, allowing you to take control. as he moaned you slipped your tongue into his mouth, tasting him completely unable to get enough. your hands drifted to his wet hair while his went to your waist drawing you forward, closer to him. you tangled your hands in his curls, pulling at them making him groan into the kiss. as he pulled you closer you felt his growing length against your core, he grinded against you, giving you both some kind of release. suddenly you had a thought. pushing him back slightly you hopped off the counter onto the ground without disconnecting your lips. ethan’s back was now against the counter while you stood in front of him. you kissed him harder, now palming his cock hidden under the towel.
you separated your lips, moving to kiss down his body instead. you kissed down the middle of his chest, swiping across his nipples with your tongue. ethan groaned continuously as you worked your way down, head rolling back in pleasure. next you got to his abs, tracing the ridges with your tongue all the way to his v-line. as you were kneeling in front of him now, you dropped his towel, freeing his now fully hard cock. ethan hissed as the air hit his exposed tip already leaking precum. you looked up at him as you began stroking his shaft,
“guessing you’ve never had a blowjob.”
he nodded his head as he couldn’t get any words out. you saw his jaw clench as you worked his cock, sliding your finger over his slit he bucked his hips into your hand, chasing a relief. finally you wrapped your mouth around the tip of his cock, swirling your tongue around it. his steps faltered as he gripped the counter, groaning at the unfamiliar feeling. you took him deeper into your throat, looking up at him struggling to contain himself. pulling your mouth off it, you pumped it more as your saliva covered the length. he squirmed beneath your touch, moaning as you stroked his shaft tightly. again you went in with your mouth, this time taking him deeper. as his tip hit the back of your throat he bucked his hips forward, causing you to gag around his cock,
“shit, i-i’m sorry i didn’t mean t-,” he rambled.
“it’s fine,” you assured him as you licked up the side of his cock, “i like it.”
as you palmed him in your hand you moved your mouth to his balls. as you sucked on one of them, ethan hit the counter with his palm, overcome with pleasure.
“is everything okay in there,” you heard someone call out from the hallway.
“yea, just uh dropped my shampoo,” he croaked.
“y-you’re gonna kill me,” he whispered, unable to raise his voice any higher due to his current state.
after you moved to the other, you resumed sucking his dick, lowering your mouth down until your nose tickled his pelvis then back up again. each time you lowered back down he came closer and closer to cumming, at this point basically whimpering under your touch, jaw clenched and eyes screwed shut.
“fuck,” he said breathlessly as his tip hit the back of your throat again.
and the next time you came down on his cock, he came hard. you felt his legs shaking as he emptied his load in your throat, jaw clenched, eyes screwed shut, and gripping the counter for dear life. you swallowed his load, milking him through his orgasm until you felt him trembling, overstimulated with his release.
you then stood up in front of him with the towel, hanging it to him you said, “you might wanna put this back on.”
quickly he grabbed your face, kissing you roughly, grabbing the curves of your ass as you moaned. it left you breathless.
“you uh- had something right there,” he joked as he wrapped his towel around his waist again.
“mm hmm, yea,” you played into it as you slipped out of the bathroom carefully, having to remain unseen.
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chronicbeans · 1 year
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Wally and a Puppeteer Reader (part 2)
My brain won't shut up about this, I like it, and others seem to like it as well. I'm so happy people seem to like my stuff!
TW: Obsessive Behaviors, Stalking, Idol Worship, Scopophobia/Eye Imagery
🎥Today was the day! Apparently, Welcome Home has become beloved enough that someone has decided to interview some of the producers, directors, and cast. Cast including the puppeteers, which means you.
🎥 To be honest, you never really liked being on camera. That isn't to say you didn't like being a puppeteer! No, no, no! You LOVE your job. You love Wally, Home, every character in the neighborhood. You would just rather be behind the scenes. So, this interview is a little daunting.
🎥 When everything is all prepared, you look around the room. Every other puppeteer is sitting with their puppets, just like you are with Wally. Currently, you are all just waiting for the interviewer to finish up with the producers and camera crew. There's been punch laid out and everything for them. It seems like the boss really wanted to make a good first impression with whoever has come in.
🎥 Home is right next to you, with your chair positioned right beside it. It's pretty big, simply because there has to be a couple different versions of it. Ones that fit hand puppets perfectly through the front door and ones that fit the walk around puppets. The larger of the two versions of Home is next to you, with the smaller Home on a table near the title card set.
🎥 Everyone is chatting about their memories making the show, from funny trips that Eddie's puppeteer has made to the improve comedy that Barnaby's puppeteer has come up with for his skits. Everyone is having a jolly good time, except for you. You have this odd feeling like something is going on. Like something is wrong.
🎥 You look down to the little puppet of Wally, which you have nearly sat upon your lap. Ever since the odd incident with storing him away, you have been a bit more protective of him. You don't want him to be messed up. Improperly storing him could result in him being misshapen, so finding out that someone messed with him was alarming.
🎥 Worse yet, though, is that ever since that little incident... you have been feeling like someone is watching you during work. Then there's the colorful letters and drawings you have been getting. Every single one of them has been found on your desk in the storage area for props related to Wally. The language used in the letters are childish and cutesy, such as saying "If you were an apple, you would be the most sparkly and red one, because you are the most!" Every drawing is drawn entirely in crayon, with paint splatters here and there...
🎥 The interviewer comes in, saving you from your own anxious thoughts, as he waves to everyone. He introduces himself, fixing his black suit as he speaks in a formal manner. "Good evening, everyone. I apologize for the delay. Your boss was so excited to tell us about the plans and passion behind this show, I couldn't help but ask him many questions. Now, lets begin."
🎥 It takes a while, but soon, the interviewer gets to you. He asks you simple questions, such as what inspired you to become a puppeteer and what drew you into working on Welcome Home. You give the best answers you could provide, before he asks one that really intrigues you.
🎥"I have heard from some of the production and directing crew that you care a lot about Wally as a character, as well as puppet care. What exactly is it about Wally that you like? What made you want to play him?"
🎥 You couldn't help but grin, explaining everything you loved about Wally as a character. You talk about how he interacts with the audience, small quirks he has and how they are displayed on the show, and even pick him up to go over his character design.
🎥 One sentence you say suddenly makes your brain click in an odd way. The second you let the words "Wally lives to draw art for the viewer of the viewer, due to having a deep appreciation for their kindness" leave your lips, you can't help but remember all of the weird drawings of you you have been finding on your desk recently. You keep talking, though, in the hopes that the memory will just go away for now.
🎥 The drawings can wait. The letters can wait. All that you really want to talk and think about right now is how much this show means to you, as well as how proud of your coworkers you are for helping everyone make Welcome Home as popular as is it. Maybe this interview isn't going as bad as you thought it would?
🎥 You are so invested in talking and answering questions, in fact, that you neglect to notice how Wally seems to subtly curl into your touch. Then again, no one else seems to, either.
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adonisbeloveds · 10 months
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Sun and Moondrop with a sibling reader
-Reader: no pronouns used + no gender implied -It/they for Sun and Moon
Requested: No/Yes
Warnings: None Disclamer: Characters personality, looks, ect may be different from canon due to either hc or author has just forgotten.
A/N: This one was not my best and was a little shorter than i hoped it would have been but yet again brain didn't work a lot so sorry but i hope you like it!
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^ Made by me
-☼ When you where introduced to Sun it was beaming with excitement, after the workers gave them the simple info on your job and that you where made to help all the kids with anxiety, fidgiting, not wanting to be around others, ect. There was a spot made in the nap room called the quiet corner, its for all the kids who want to be somewhere calm and just read, play or talk without all the energetic kids around. -☼ When you got introduced to the kids the older and calmer kids loved spending time with you, playing with you, singing with you, fidgiting with you, everything they wanted to do you gladly joined in with them, Sun loved that you got along with the kids as well as they did. "Alright kids, its snack time!" Sun said packing up the puppet show stuff "sunbeam can you go get the kids from the quiet corner? thank you!" Sun asked, you nodded and went to get the kids for snack time. When you got back with the children you helped Sun line the kids up and handed them their plates and got ready to hand out the juice boxes or water. After all the kids got their food they sat down at the tables and Sun opened its checklist "sunbeam can you go get the blankets and pillows please?" it asked, you nodded and went to set up the sleeping area.
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^ Made by me
-☾ Moon was surprised to see a new animatronic but after Sun briefly told it that you where their new sibling moon was happy to have another family member and a new helping hand that was like them. After small introductions you two went to put the children to sleep, after you made sure all the children where asleep Moon and you carefully sat down and talked about the children and what your job was. -☾ They talked to you about what to do after naptime was over and about the other animatronics in the pizza plex, you found out that there was this one trouble maker called Gregory that got banned from the pizza plex and how Moon had a small hatred towards him.
As you two talked softly about the pizza plex Moon came up with a idea "star do you want to draw with me?" you smiled brightly and nodded, very excited that you get to draw with your sibling. Moon came back with the paper and crayons, you both started drawing with the soft sound of humming coming from Moon, even though the lighting was dim it was light enough for you to see what you where doing. Some time pasted and you where both done with your drawings, Moon drew you sitting on a cresent moon "can i see your drawing star?" you smiled and gave the drawing of it, Sun and you hanging out in a field of flowers, Moon cooed and gave you a gentle hug "it looks amazing star, we can show it to Sun after the kids wake up." After some time the kids started waking up and going to sit with Moon and you, after a couple of minutes all the children woke up, Moon got up and stretched "okay little ones, Moony has to go now but Sunny will be back" the children softly whinned about not getting to spend time with Moon but it quieted them after saying that their caregivers will be here shortly to pick them up.
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fipindustries · 2 months
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not a question but basically any time i remember your art exists im looking it up and down and trying to take inspiration from it. your expression work is always top notch, and the way you depict faces is the perfect balance between cartoony and well defined
oh my god this is such an amazing compliment! thank you so much!
you know, i think this has been a long time coming. im going to take this as a chance to go in depth about how my style works, why i do what i do and how i do it. do keep in mind that none of this is me saying "this is the objectively correct way of doing art" but rather just how my own process works, what I like to see in my own art.
that balance that you speak of comes from a commitment to underlying structures. what im going to call the stylization sandwich
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i start with a clear, well defined solid structure, i add whatever wacky cartoony features i want on top of it (none the less strongly tied and guided by the underlying structure) and then i refine by adding as many more realistic, grounding details i want, although you can go too far with it so i gotta be careful or ill end up with those shitty "cartoon character IRL would look scary!" clickbait drawings.
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(quick aside, this trend fucking sucks, its obvious the artist went out of their way to make the drawing creepy, this pretension that "actually the character would look scary irl" deliberatly misundertands the principles of stylization, its as creatively bankrupt as jokes about mario eating mushrooms)
getting back on topic, the point is that, as long as the underlying structures are solid you can build whatever you want on top of them and it will make sense
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a key tool here is internalizing the way the proportions on the face work. and i say internalize because obviously i dont actually have the golden ratio memorized inside my head nor do i stop and measure and calculate all the proportions in the features. i just read a lot about drawing, i drew a lot, i tried to always keep a critical eye to what im drawing and see if it "feels" disproportionate. once you get an eye for it then you know how far you can push things before they complitely break
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let me give you another example of what i feel is a botched execution of this.
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if you look closely at the face on the left there are a lot of things that dont make sense. the corners of the eyebrows dip down into the eyes when usually the eyes are enveloped by the eyebrows, the way the beard grows around the nose is just not how facial hair is distributed, the mouth is too big, etc. on the left i used photoshop to reorganize the factions into something that makes a bit more sense to me
(another quick aside, the real big problem at the heart of the original drawing were not so much the proportions but the tangents, when different lines touch each other like this that is usually a big no no but that is a topic for another day)
also a lot of it is just me cheating. yeah i cheat. you ever heard how people say there is no innate talent and its all practisce and hard work. well, yeah, that is mostly true, but is also true that some people are born with inherent advantages. either taller or more predisposed to being thin or with better facial structures or better innate hand-eye coordination. i was born with an uncanny capacity to visualize stuff. i have whatever the opposite of aphantasia is. i can borderline hallucinate things if i want to. and that goes coupled with the visual intuitions i developed through practisce and training.
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so first come the learned wisdom, and then comes the innate talent that helps me exploit that learned wisdom to its full potential
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on top of that is corporeality, i try to draw in such a way that it conveys depth and weight to the things im drawing, certain kinds of stylizations dont care about that and choose instead to have their drawing look flat, a classic one is the UPA style
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is a very fun style! very cute, very dynamic, very expressive in its simplicity. it became very popular in the 60's and 70's. personally i choose to go in a different direction. i draw in such a way that if one were to turn my drawings into 3d models not a lot would get lost in the process.
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whereas other artists....
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...not so much
but yeah, ultimatly it all goes back to underlying structure. any drawing can work
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as long as you have a strong foundation underneath.
PS: if you like my style i cannot reccomend enough the art of @rezuaq i feel they follow a lot of the same principles i talked about here but i could be wrong.
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they have been my biggest inspiration as of the last 4 years, i shamelssly stole the design of one of their characters for jennyffer. go to their blog and give them a like
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beamattack · 26 days
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Hi! I wanted to ask you, how you began with your idea about your zelda au? You inspired me in doing a my own one and in a game-like-way, i love your contents in this your idea! (Idk if you already replied a similar question :,I)
What a nice message! I'm so happy when people ask about and enjoy my zelda stuff even when i haven't been able to draw for it for a while, since it's very close to my heart! :^D And i'm so happy to hear that it has inspired you!! Makes my heart worm 🪱 ❤️
As for how I began with it… I can't remember my exact thought process, but I've always found loz-games fascinating both gameplay-wise and story/worldbuilding-wise! I've always loved how different the games are even with their shared elements. The land of Hyrule itself and its creatures vary wildly from game to game and aren't bound by any certain rules, which just adds to its strange myth-like quality which i adore. So I think I just naturally started to play around and thought about what I would do if I made a LoZ game - it's like a giant playground to me! At first I just had vague ideas that I liked: I've always liked Vaati so he'd be the antagonist, I've always wanted to see more of the rarely seen darker fairies so I made one Link's companion, I like drawing fabric moving in the wind so Link got a scarf, I love drawing snow so that would be the main setting, etc.. You see my thought pattern, haha! I drew a couple of concept sketches to get it out of my head, and some years later I revisited it and added to it and formed into what it is today (Zelda, the village, the story, map & locations etc.).
Basically I wanted to create a LoZ idea that could possibly be played as an actual game in the franchise but with my own touches, and picking elements from canon that I really liked (some people have noticed that it feels like it could fit the “Hyrule's Decline” timeline, which is right - I'm super inspired by ALttP/ALBW's maps and Zelda 1 & 2's manuals and feel!). Same with the gameplay elements - so much of LoZ's identity lies in its gameplay, so for me it would be impossible to come up with a Zelda idea without thinking of it as a game, haha! So it's a mix between canon gameplay elements (dungeons, items, enemies & bosses) and just stuff that I personally think would be fun (Link as a stealthy scout, snowy environment hazards, status effects (I'm a JRPG nerd) etc).
Sorry for the long answer! This might be more than you asked for. But I'm glad you asked, thank you! :D I haven't been able to draw much lately because of my studies but here are a couple of sketches I can share! :)
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(loz idea masterpost)
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hotwaterandmilk · 5 months
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Just another one of those posts where I do a bit of a general update on a few things. This time opening with an edited scan of Maomao from Nekokurage's Kusuriya no Hitorigoto manga adaptation to get your attention. Boo!
I've been reading the Kusuriya no Hitorigoto light novels and enjoying them in the sense that I think preteen me would have liked them. I started reading the LNs earlier this year (as they're great for reading in waiting rooms and the like thanks to their short format) and I think the LNs are definitely my preferred version of the story. The anime has a nice OP theme but is fairly middling otherwise and I don't go much on the art in either mang adaptation (though Nekokurage's art has improved recently and Maomao looks less like a giant-headed baby doll in the Animate bonus cards per my scan above). Maomao is the real draw in all versions so obviously I preordered her Nendo the first moment I could — bring on May 2024!
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Speaking of translated light novels you can buy right now, the first part of the Oguni no Koushaku Reijō wa Tekikoku nite Kakusei Suru light novel was just released as A Young Lady Finds Her True Calling Living with the Enemy Volume #1 by Cross Infinite World (see here). It's a solid story that doesn't overstay its welcome and Bertine's business acumen is just *chefs kiss* for those after a competent heroine.
Once the second and final part of this is out, I'd love to see Cross Infinite World pick up another short (but unrelated) PASH! Books publication, Shiitagerareta Shuusai Reijou to Ringoku no Haraguro Kenkyuusha-sama no Amayaka na Yakusou Jikkenshitsu. The web novel version was quite solid but I haven't read the printed version yet. Yeah I like science ladies, what can I say? It would be so good to keep seeing interesting titles for girls and women being picked up for English release because I tire of isekai villainess stories (which imho peaked years ago with Watashi no Oshi wa Akuyaku Reijou) and there are some great little tales out there that do things a bit differently & just need to be shown to the right audience.
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I'm so excited for Metallic Rouge in early January! While it used to be that getting an original property from BONES was always exciting, it has been a while since they've created anything I've really cared about but I'm hoping this will break the drought. If a show has Izubuchi, Kawamoto, Yamada contributing then you know I've got to be there. Plus a couple of lady leads in a SF setting? Trailers with some great action and music? I'm trying not to get my hopes up too much but I'm keen to give it a shot. If it isn't for me at least I can say I've given it a chance, right?
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I've been terrible at sharing the latest about this year's Silent Möbius anniversary, but I'm not a news blogger and frankly very few people care so eh y'know, whatever. BUT I figured I should say something about FAIRYTALE PARFUM releasing scents for the key members of AMP this month (though Mana has been totally forgotten, it seems). You can check out the range here, there will be a launch event on the 10th of December in Shinjuku too.
Asamiya drew new artwork for the bottles and while I'd love to get Kiddy's perfume that nods towards her bodily acceptance in its notes, importing that stuff is just too much of a pain so I've settled for a tiny acrylic stand of Kiddy instead. Sadly there's no option to buy a set of stands so I just went "whatever" and grabbed just my best girl. Anyway, if you'd like a tiny acrylic stand of an AMP girl with extra weird proportions then make sure you check out the FAIRYTALE PARFUM website.
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eshbaal · 9 months
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Character Sketching Basics (for total beginners)
I've never really made art tutorials, but I do actually semi-routinely teach digital art classes to local kids in my area. As a result of this, I have also now signed up for a volunteer character sketching workshop for such kids that I am hosting tomorrow.
I figured that since I will have 15 kids there and I can't possibly introduce them to the base concepts one by one, I should make some easy to understand slides that try and teach them the basic thoughts that go behind a good character sketch. Aaaand I figured I would share them here. They are in danish, but I will translate underneath each pic. And before any other of the amazing artists on here start pointing out that this is possibly a bit too simplsitic to be a "proper" tutorial - the workshop is for the 11-14 crowd that may have never heard these things before. That's why it's kept as completely simple as possible. Anyway, here we go:
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When we draw characters, we usually talk about three pimary stages - Sketch, Inking and Colors/Shading. That's a lot of stuff to learn, but we'll focus on sketching for today, alright?
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A good way to learn how to draw characters is by learning to understand two great tools - the STICK FIGURE and the BASIC SHAPES.
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The Stick Figure helps you understand what a body looks like and how it fits together (anatomy), and makes it easier to portray a body in motion. (This also goes for nonhuman creatures - consider the stick figure their "skeleton")
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Once you have your skeleton, you can use basic shapes (triangles, squares and circles of all kinds) to build the rest of the body. Your choice of shapes and their sizes can make a massive difference! Notice, how blocky Superman looks compared to the skinny Anne here, even though their skeletons are built basically the same way.
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You can also use basic shapes to create some really unique characters, and maybe even tell us something about their personality at the same time. This is called "shape language". Take a look at how some famous characters use very simple shapes. The always friendly and happy Mickey Mouse is round and friendly-looking. With just three circles, he became famous worldwide. The skinny, refined Pearl's body consists primarilly of triangles and long circles - this works really well for a dancer, who is also a bit of a perfectionist. She even carries a spear, which is a pointy weapon that really needs the one wielding it to be precise! Almost every character in "Phineas and Ferb" consists of simple shapes that make them easy to recognize. Phineas and Ferbs' heads consist of just a big triangle and two squares respectively. And with Isabelle and Candace, you can even spot a couple of half-circles!
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If you learn how to see these shapes and where they are hiding, you can learn to draw almost any character you can imagine - even the ones that look super difficult and complicated. Shredder here looks almost impossible to draw, but even he has a lot of squares and triangles you can find if you look close enough - and if you drew a solid enough skeleton to start with, so you can tell where certain things are supposed to go on his body. You also use these techniques to draw harder parts of the body, such as hands. It's really difficult, but it'll come to you with practice.
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Okay - let's use what we've learned! Pick a character or make something up yourself. Figure out the characters' skeleton. Go ahead and draw them in a different pose, if you want and if you feel you can. Find and add the characters' basic shapes and add them on top of the skeleton to make a body. Add details and start erasing the lines you no longer need.
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A FEW LAST PIECES OF ADVICE - Draw softly and loosely. It's hard to erase your lines if you pressed down hard on your paper. - Try not to choose a character that's too complicated to start with. We all gotta start somewhere. - Don't worry about your sketch looking a little messy. After all, it's just a sketch. All it needs to be is a good starting point for when you ink it later. - Your sketch does NOT need to look 100% like the original. The important part is that you can spot how their bodies are constructed, and find all their most important traits. - If there's a part you are having a hard time drawing, take a break and work on something else. Sometimes your brain just needs a little break. - Ask for help! That's why I'm here! - Remember to take breaks now and then. It's good for your hands and for your backs. ----
Soooo yeah. That's my tutorial for ABSOLUTE beginner kids. I hope this will land well tomorrow.
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chibishortdeath · 3 months
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General Simon brainrot sketch page :3, as per usual, explanations under a cut. Apologies if my posts tend to be kinda huge and difficult to scroll past, I try to do the cuts to make sure they do the least inconvenience to anyone! (>-< ;)
Just the whole page in full ft. My thumb lol
Expression practice! Simon is feeling the weight of his situation rn alas :(. I’ve always imagined him being panicked the whole game; the overarching entire game timer really gives a pretty good feeling of dread imo. The two doodles at the bottom were attempts at multiple ideas I’ve seen floating around about the curse, but they’re kinda bad in execution looking at them no tbh. But the first one is based on the idea that the curse gives some vampire traits like sharp teeth and would probably lead to proper vampirism if he were to die from it. The second was general attempt at like skull practice and comparing facial features to skull structure, but oh my god the page kept smudging and I tried making it look ok with some random blood on there but it just made it look even sillier 💀.
These next two are based on two random like liminal space images I ran into on Pinterest and I drew them mostly because I suck at backgrounds and idk Simon’s Quest itself is like Castlevania: Liminal Space Edition a lot of the time, so it fits X,,,,D. The first one I really liked the composition of the path on the far side contrasted to the trees. Imagine the water is the purple cursed swamp :3. Hopefully Simon has laurels just standin around in there.
This second liminal space for Simon to be in was this neat nighttime photo of a graveyard! Trees are HARD TO DRAW, especially just in pencil and a solid black background. There’s blood on the ground and stuff cause he was just fighting some monsters, probably those two headed lizard guys. It’s the awkward stillness after clearing out an area of enemies.
The pose for this one is based on the LOL~lots of laugh Miku figure lmao 💀💀💀
Simon is very fun to put in exaggerated poses! Especially cause you have to exaggerate them more to get the same ratio of pose to negative space because muscles and armor. I had no idea how to make metal belt armor thingies sit in a like legs up floating sort of pose like this so they kinda bend a little weird but eh he looks cute otherwise. The other doodles present are one that says “brainrot” which is kinda making fun of my own dedication to an NES character 💀 and also cause haha rot like the curse. Also, teeny tiny Simon with a heart!!! :3
Yippie! Simon posing again! I think the first pose was inspired by this like random old anime style angel figure??? Idk I think she was just an original character figure and the pose was pretty different, I just used the reference mostly for the arm position. Anyway, he’s vibin, just sitting curled up and momentarily comfy. Alas, the horrors persist in the second doodle that was an attempt at showing how the curse kinda deteriorates him but he just kinda ended up having a scarily snatched waist and it looks more stylized than like sick. Also the armor kinda bends around him in a way that makes it look like it shrunk with him which is so dumb lmaooooo (XwX). I’ll have to revisit the concept eventually idk, just look at his face for this one XD. Hahaha tiny doodle based on Larval Rin on the left there, nothing to see here—
The main doodle is just Simon looking into the distance bewildered and holding the whip, standard stuff. There’s also a side profile doodle and an attempt at drawing crying again cause I was getting kinda rusty at both of those things.
Simon Belmont but if he was 2000s anime lol. A fun little style experiment, I might keep this as like another secondary art style. There’s also some doodles of a hanged man skeleton, the eyes of Vlad, a skeleton hand, and a couple little chibi Simon’s of various expressions.
More 2000s anime Simon, but in a more silly way like the art style change for joke sections. One is him just goofily holding up Dracula’s head, but it’s contrasted immediately with a more gritty usual art style doodle of him with harsh shading lol. Get you a man who can do both I guess 💀
I gotta practice more on backgrounds and composition and stuff, probably also get some curse effects consistent augh. Lately I’ve been on and off working on random things or just staring into space tired, getting back to using social media is hard and an exhausting uphill battle unfortunately (_ _ ;). Sometimes I feel like I should probably split these up into multiple posts to make things more visible and to put more focus on specific drawings, but idk I don’t really want to, it just feels weird to me breaking up a doodle page like that, if that makes sense??? Eh idk.
#castlevania#castlevania games#akumajou dracula#castlevania ii: simon's quest#castlevania simon’s quest#simon’s quest#simon belmont#art post#my art#fanart#sometimes I forget that the turtleneck addition to his undershirt was like something I added somewhere along the line 💀#seeing the actual box art and staring at his visible neck like where your clothes at and then I remember oh wait#I did that ​I was the one that who made him cover up 😔#ok also the hair lmaoooooooo hahahashshs prince of eternia lookin ass#Simon really out here with that fuckass bob Konami what barber did you send him to#I forget that like there’s not the sections and piecing I usually draw and that he really just has his bangs straight cut in that#I guess the way I draw his hair is like a middle ground between his manual doodles and the cover art?#yeah that makes sense I’m using that explanation of it now XD#anyway love him I’ve got another page of him I’ll try to post soon hopefully#past that is some really quick OC concept sketches and like idk dissociating#aaa I gotta talk to people but I keep losing all track of time and then can’t because of guilt augh it’s a miracle I’m posting this rn tbh#daydreaming is a horrible coping mechanism don’t do it guys I’ve been stuck with it since fourth grade 💀💀💀💀💀💀#it’s addictive it starts out like ‘time to imagine a character to this song :3’ then it’s been two months#vent in the tags#but mannnnnnn 😔😔😔#anyway here’s a whole sketchbook page of my comfort character who hasn’t seen a day of comfort in his life uh—#idk if posting at like 10 PM at night is a good idea but eh whatever
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be-co-me · 10 months
Text
Trigonometry Trouble
Bokuto Koutarou
A/N: There's some confusing math involved, but I hope I explained it well!
2.2k Words
Summary: The out of your league volleyball captain needs your help with math, and in exchange, teaches you a thing or two in return.
...
You tended to stick to yourself in classes, only talking to others when it was necessary for a group project or whatever you had to do. So it came as a surprise when the hotshot of the volleyball team wanted to talk to you. You didn't dislike him, in fact, he seemed like a very happy-go-lucky person that didn't have a problem with the world. Except for trigonometry that is...
"Hey, smarty." you heard, not thinking you were being talked to.
"Smarty. Hey." he repeated. You felt a nudge on your shoulder with what felt like the eraser of a pencil coming from the left of you. You looked up and met eyes with him.
"You understand this stuff right? I'm so bad at math." he confessed, brushing his hand through his hair and laughing nervously. You kinda felt bad for the guy. In order to stay in sports, your grades had to be immaculate. You couldn't really afford to get a bad grade in any class.
"Yeah. Trigonometry is honestly my best subject in math. Why? Are you having trouble understanding?" you asked, leaning over to peer at his paper. Not one answer or equation was written out, but only remnants of the messed-up equations were faded into the paper.
It was practically a free period where you could finish your homework in class, so you decided you would help him with his paper as you were almost done anyways. You scooted your desk closer to his so it was easier to see what he was doing.
"Okay. Let me draw a model for you. It might make it easier to visualize what's happening." you said, drawing a triangle on the corner of his paper and labeling the different sides and angles.
"So the way I learned it the easiest was in forensic science. Like crime scene stuff you know?" you asked him. He nodded in response.
"What part of it?" he asked.
"The blood part. Blood spatter analysis. It's essentially taking the angles of each drop of blood and seeing where they meet together to find the point of impact. So let's say a person gets shot right here," you said, pointing to a corner of the room, his sight following yours. "There would be spatters of blood right?" you asked. He nodded once again.
"So you have to measure all of those to see where the victim and where the perpetrator was when the victim was shot, which can uncover quite a lot about a crime scene, but that's not the point. We're just pretending to measure the spatters." you said.
He paid attention closely as you explained how to measure blood spatter using a right triangle and trigonometry. He seemed to be understanding okay. You then took the first problem on the paper and drew it out as if it was a blood spatter. 
"Okay, so the way I would explain this since we are finding the height, your angle is 60º, right? And the drop was found 14 feet away from the source. Find the height that the blood drop fell from. Remember the height is the opposite, and the feet is the adjacent, so the tangent of 60º equals the opposite over 14 feet." you said. He nodded, slowly but surely, getting to work.
After a couple of minutes, he looked up, excited he possibly even came to a conclusion on the answer. You viewed his answer and your eyes widened slightly at seeing it was correct. You truly didn't think that explaining it in the way you did would make it any easier on him but it did.
"Sooooo... Break the news. Did I get it right?" he asked. You looked back up at him and he nervously awaited your answer. You analyzed the work he did one more time and nodded.
"Yeah! Great job! Now just take the rest of the problems and put them into the equation like that. Makes it a lot easier to find. You must be a visual learner." you said, turning to finish the last problem on your own paper.
"Yes! I wish more people could understand that." he said. You continued on with class, pulling out a book to read on while the time passed. Once the bell rang, signaling your school day was over with, you gathered your belongings preparing to leave.
"Hey, smartie pants." you heard Bokuto say. You looked up at him, curious as to what he needed. "Do you have any plans right now?" he asked. You shook your head. You had already finished your homework for your classes and just planned to watch TV the rest of the evening.
"Nope. Nothing that comes to mind." you replied, shrugging your shoulders.
"Well, it's my off day from practice and... if you don't care to, I really need some more help with homework. Would you care to tutor me for a little bit?" he asked. Your heart fluttered with excitement. Out of all the people he could ask, he asked you. Maybe the rest of his volleyball friends sucked at math too and couldn't help... Or you could help them too...
"Yeah! I don't mind. But in exchange for tutoring you, I would like to learn a little bit about playing volleyball. All I do after classes is sit in my dorm and watch TV so I've been wanting to join a club, especially since I used to play sports I thought it would be nice to do something different." you said. 
"Sounds like a plan! Now how's the cafeteria sound? We could get some coffee and hopefully, I won't fail this exam." he responded.
"You won't fail if I'm the one teaching you and you work hard." you said. You made your way to the cafeteria and ordered some coffees. He was nice enough to pay for yours as well. It kind of made you feel bad. People didn't buy things for you and you were used to paying for your own things, but he insisted.
For the next few hours, you taught him about not only trigonometry, but some of the other subjects he said he was having trouble in. The sun had already set. This was probably the most fun you had in a while. You didn't have a roommate in your dorm and not too many friends, so even if this was a one-time thing, it was still a good break from the usual.
"Well, thanks for all your help! Now it's my turn to teach you about volleyball!" he said. His homework was now finished for all of his classes and you honestly wanted to find a good excuse to keep on hanging out with him. 
You weren't wearing the most ideal clothing to play volleyball in, but you weren't about to turn his offer down.
"Can we play with only two people?" you asked.
"We can practice some beginner stuff, but if you really wanna play and see how it's done. I might be able to gather some people to play last minute." he said, muttering about how they don't have lives anyways. He pulled his phone out of his jacket pocket and dialed a number, putting the phone to his ear. He paused for a second.
"Hey Akaashi, whatcha doing? Are you down for some volleyball tonight? The guys too? I've got a noob that wants to learn how to play." he said, throwing a smile your way. You smiled back, a little embarrassed. You knew the school's team was good. Especially Bokuto as one of the top ace positions in the nation. It felt surreal to be studying and goofing around with him.
"Alright. They said they wouldn't mind playing some tonight! The more practice the better." he said. He stood, throwing his bag over his shoulder. "You ready?" he asked. You nodded in response.
You made your way to the gym and once you walked inside, you looked around in awe. You never realized how big this gym actually was. It looked quite small from the outside. You followed him and set your bag and jacket down next to his own. He grabbed a volleyball and began explaining some basics to you. Then he began passing the ball to you. How to receive it, set it, spike it. Even serving. 
You stood behind the line, ready to try and hit a serve over the net. You opted for the underhand serve as that's what seemed would get the ball over the net for you personally. You didn't think you would have the strength to get an overhand serve over.
"Remember what I showed you and just go for it!" he said. You nodded, taking a deep breath and getting into position, then hitting the ball. He made it look so easy. You watched nervously and it barely went over the net but made it. You turned around to him, jumping and smiling. He high-fived you at your success.
"Wanna try and set the ball to me now?" he asked. You nodded eagerly. This was a lot of fun and you never wanted this day to end, so of course you did. You weren't great at first but began getting the movement correct. You finally set the ball close to perfectly and watching him spike it felt like one of the most amazing things you had ever witnessed. Sure, you'd seen them play games a couple of times, but seeing it up close, it was like nothing could compare.
"That was amazing!!" he shouted, jumping around in victory for your correct set. You smiled, laughing a little bit.
You heard the gym door creak open and looked over. A group of unfamiliar faces walked in, and you realized it was some of his teammates. He introduced you to the small group and you began trying to play with them. They were all really good and even then you could tell they were taking it easier on you since you were new.
"How about a three on three? We've got enough people." Bokuto offered. You nodded along with the others. They were all warmed up now. You were on a team with Bokuto and his friend Akaashi. You started off in the back, receiving and you assumed Bokuto was going to be the spiker and Akaashi the setter.
The other team started off serving and you got ready for it. You needed the ball to go to Akaashi. The ball bounced off your forearms, making its way to Akaashi's general direction. It wasn't great, but hey, you were a beginner. It was good enough for you and definitely good enough for them to recover. 
You sat back for a second and watched Akaashi set the ball to Bokuto and then he spiked it down. It looked surreal. It was now your turn to serve. Maybe you could pull off another one like you had done earlier. You made your way behind the back line of the court, standing right off of it, remembering everything Bokuto had taught you. You held your breath, then let it out.
"Get a good serve (Y/N)!" Bokuto shouted. You smiled, nodding.
You then hit the ball, watching it in hopes that it would go over the net. It hit the top of the net, then tipped over. You cheered, coming back onto the court. This was amazing. You were actually doing decently. You loved it.
This continued on until your team beat the other. Of course with one of the best setter/spiker duos in the nation, you weren't surprised. Everyone began packing their things, sitting for a second to cool down. 
"Want me to walk you to your dorm?" Bokuto questioned.
"You don't have to. You've already done so much." you replied. He really had. This totally beat sitting at home and watching TV all afternoon. 
"Nah. I'll walk you there. It's dark outside." he responded. You smiled and nodded, grabbing your packed belongings and making your way there. You wouldn't turn down hanging out with him longer if he insisted on it.
Once you arrived, you didn't know what to say. You had so much fun and never wanted it to end.
"Soooo... I wanna do this again. Today was really fun. You made math tolerable. No! School in general." he said. He ran his hand through his hair again, laughing. He must do that when he's nervous.
"Me too! How about next week?" you asked, hopeful you could play again soon.
"That sounds perfect." he responded, his hand coming back to his side.
"Let me give you my number. Gotta have a way to communicate." you said. He took his phone out of his pocket, handing it to you. You typed in your number and gave the phone back to him. He smiled, putting it into his pocket.
"I'll text you when I get home." he said, a big smile across his face. You couldn't help but to also smile. 
"Well, till trigonometry next week." you said. He nodded, turning with a wave. You waved back, opening your door and going inside. You did a little victory dance. He was amazing.
Who would have known a simple trigonometry question could blossom into a friendship? (And possibly more...)
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markantonys · 4 months
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I’ve never watched wheel of time but I will say that I think something to be said for the debate about costuming is that the game of thrones costumes were INSANE when it came to quality and detail. At least in the first few seasons they were hand-sewn, hand-embroidered, etc. There was a big coffee table type book about them that broke down a lot of the choices the costume designers and department made and the quality of that department still blows me away!!! They were gorgeous and complex and took so much of the worldbuilding and politics into account!
And from what I’ve seen, it seems like the Wheel of Time costumes do the same, it’s just that they draw from very different references and eras!! Maybe there will be some kind of bts/special feature breakdown of what they referenced and the different ideas they drew from for the costuming for WOT. That seems like it would be a good time. It’s really annoying and really unfortunate that a lot of people refuse to see past their own preconceptions of what fantasy means. I’m sorry that so many people are making assumptions about fantasy costuming in your notes, especially. It’s a genre that spans much wider than lotr and game of thrones! Perhaps more people should. Idk. Engage with it more and find that out. Maybe that would fix them.
yeah!! haha it really was just 2 complaints in my notes on a gifset that otherwise had universal gushing about how much people loved the costumes, so thankfully most people are enjoying the WOT costumes (and not being annoying in my notes) and i was definitely being dramatic in my complaints about the complaints! still, there's something to be said about how ingrained ideas of "this is what fantasy costumes are Supposed to look like" are in us, when fantasy as a genre MEANS there's no set definition of what ANYTHING is "supposed" to be.
i didn't watch GOT but i've seen plenty of gifs etc over the years, of course, and the costumes are absolutely beautiful and very detailed! and from what i understand, the books were going for a medieval europe type of vibe for the main kingdoms and so in that respect the show's costumes definitely understood the assignment (tho ofc with their own added Fantasy Flavor). the downside is that they were so influential that it's made a lot of people subconsciously think that that is THE fantasy aesthetic (along with LOTR), and thus anything too different looks out of place to them.
there have been a couple WOT costume bts features that i've seen, and the designers did indeed do similar things where they showed how much stuff was handmade and how detailed everything is, and they talked about taking inspiration from many different real-world cultures & time periods as well! a lot of which is based on the way the author described clothes in the books and the real-world fashion influences he was using. i remember in a season 1 bts the costume designer had a map of WOT's world color-coded according to which real-world cultures are the primary inspirations for the dress of each region of WOTworld (although i think it's a different costume designer for season 2 so i don't know if they adhered 100% to the s1 designer's notes).
to conclude, here are some caps from a scene in s1 that features a large international gathering (same color=same wizard faction, but within each faction are women of many different cultures, so you can see for example that our 4 blue ladies are wearing 4 very different styles). i wouldn't say these are the best costumes in the show because season 2 really took it up a notch (hello, higher budget!), but this particular scene is a great quick illustration of the wide variety of styles going on in the vast continent of WOTworld and of how much detail goes into costumes even for nameless background characters. and most of them do feature the sort of clean lines/angularity that makes our brains go "modern", and most of them do look quite different from the GOT & LOTR aesthetics!
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animeangelriku · 9 months
Text
in every picture that i drew (i saw you)
[Also read on AO3!]
Crowley chances upon the briefcase by accident.
Aziraphale’s gone out to pick up a few records and a package of coffee blends Maggie and Nina sent them, as well as a couple of sweets from his favorite bakery in town to celebrate that they’ve finally finished moving into their cottage.
Of course, there are still a few things left to tidy up—some trinkets, two or three books in the study, a pair of plants here and there—but for the most part, they’re done. This place is fully theirs now.
Crowley rubs at his chest, over where his demonic heart rests within his corporation. Oh. Oh, that’s new. That feeling of encompassing relief, of absolute certainty, of overwhelming calm. He… doesn’t dislike it, no. It’s just… something to get used to. And he’s got time to get used to it, doesn’t it? They both do. That’s—that’s part of the deal.
Fuck, there it is again, like the warmth of sitting close to a fire during a cold night. Of having Aziraphale’s tartan blanket tucked around him at the end of the day. Of catching the giddiness in Aziraphale’s voice with his mouth.
Crowley shakes his head to himself, snatches his mug of coffee from the kitchen isle, and heads upstairs, to their bedroom.
(Their bedroom, for Someone’s sake.)
He stands at the doorframe to simply take it in for a second. The rustic dresser doesn’t match the bedclothes in the slightest, the hideous combination of Crowley’s satin pillowcases and Aziraphale’s decades-old duvet and sheets, and the rug by the foot of the bed is a stark contrast to the hardwood floor, which is a contrast in itself to the marble tiles of the ensuite bathroom, and the bloody nightstands stick out like a sore thumb, and Crowley will be blessed to admit it’s his favorite room in the entire cottage, he loves it so fucking much. He could spend the rest of his immortal life here, as long as Aziraphale is with him.
Then something catches his eye. 
Right there, beneath the bed, almost hidden by the corner of the rug, is something… brown. Kind of leathery looking.
Crowley kneels by the bed and pulls the object out. A bag? Some sort of briefcase? It’s definitely Aziraphale’s, if only because it’s at least eighty years old, but Crowley doesn’t remember ever seeing it before. And why is it that Aziraphale hid it under the bed? Instead of hanging it by the front door or putting it in their walk-in closet.
When Crowley stands with it, the latch pops open, and the contents of the briefcase spill out onto the floor. Nothing but several papers of different sizes: papyrus sheets, scrolls, scraps pieced together.
“Shit!” Crowley mutters. From the looks of it, at least there was nothing that could’ve broken or snapped apart, but if Aziraphale kept this stuff, it must be important, and Crowley doesn’t want to accidentally ruin any of it.
He kneels down to immediately start to get everything back inside the briefcase, except that his eyes catch the corner of one of the papers, and what he sees makes him stop.
It’s a sketch of him.
His hair is much longer than it’s been for a few decades, curls cascading down to his chest. The expression on his face is unguarded, the hint of a smile playing on his lips. He seems to be wearing a robe, though he can’t really tell, given that the sketch isn’t finished. It looks almost as if whoever drew this stopped once they reached his shoulders, like the artist got distracted or couldn’t bear to finish it.
Crowley stares at the piece of parchment for what feels like an eternity. It has no signature, and the nearly washed out black of the lines gives the impression that it’s much older than one would assume at first glance.
Did… did Aziraphale draw this?
Crowley picks up more of the pages still on the floor. They’re all sketches of him at different points in time. But not only that—they’re all instances in which he and Aziraphale met up throughout the millennia. The oldest sketches are the ones that are incomplete: Mesopotamia, Uz, Golgotha, Rome, Wessex, even their encounter outside the Globe Theater. Some of them are a little more detailed than others, sometimes including a bit of his arms and torso, but those, he finds, are the unfinished sketches.
Then the sketches change. They become a little more complex, a tad more alive, more like pictures than scribbled lines. There’s him in Paris, sitting across a table with a glass of wine and a plate of uneaten crepes in front of him; him in Edinburgh, his head thrown back and his mouth open with what seems to be a loud cackle; him in London, staring straight ahead as he holds out a folded piece of paper.
(The folded piece of paper is scratched out, covered by angry lines and splotches of ink, but Crowley knows exactly what it is. He knows exactly what words are written on it.)
Him in the backroom of the bookshop, having a drink with Aziraphale after the angel’s first professional magic performance.
(He can still remember how badly he shook as he raised the rifle to aim it at Aziraphale, the fear and nausea that he would betray his trust by discorporating him.)
Him in his car, holding a tartan thermos gently, carefully, in his hands.
(Aziraphale looked so bloody gorgeous, backlit by the neon lights of Soho. Crowley recalls his fingers twitching with the desire to cup his jaw and kiss him.)
Him on a bench, his lips curled up in a lazy, amused smile.
(“We will win, of course,” Aziraphale said, and Crowley allowed himself to think he meant the two of them.)
“My dear, I’ve been calling you for— Good Lord, what are you doing?!”
Crowley’s head snaps to the door of their bedroom (their bedroom, he still can’t get over that). Aziraphale is frozen in place, his eyes wide in shock and a beautiful blush pinkening his cheeks.
“Huh?” Crowley asks.
The angel rushes into action. Crowley remains stunned, cross-legged on the floor, while Aziraphale picks up the scattered pages and clutches them tightly to his chest.
“Why do you have these?!”
“I…” Crowley licks his lips, clears his throat. “The… bag. Briefcase. Under the bed.”
Aziraphale lets out a frustrated groan. “You weren’t supposed to ever see them!” Then he glares at the briefcase on the floor. “And you were supposed to be locked away, not hiding under the bed!”
The briefcase, Crowley thinks, seems to almost give a nonchalant shrug.
“Sorry,” Crowley says. His mind hasn’t stopped reeling with the realization that Aziraphale has been drawing him for millennia, and he feels a bit like he’s missed a step in this conversation.
The angel puffs out his cheeks and huffs out a breath. His brows knit into an upside-down vee that Crowley immediately wants to kiss away. “No, Crowley, I—I’m sorry. I should not have yelled at you, I was simply… surprised. I’ve kept these hidden for so long that I… I forgot I no longer have to.”
He kneels down by Crowley’s side. He looks at Crowley, and his face softens, and the corners of his mouth curl upwards in a shy smile. Crowley moves closer to him, brushing their shoulders together. With an exhale of air, Aziraphale spreads the sketches out in front of them.
There truly are so bloody many, it’s a miracle they all fit inside that briefcase.
“I suppose you have questions,” Aziraphale says.
“Sure,” Crowley agrees. “But you don’t owe me anything, angel. You can tell me whatever you want me to know.”
Aziraphale reaches out to push a strand of Crowley’s hair behind his ear.
“I didn’t mean to start sketching you,” the angel begins, his gaze back on the sheets of paper. “At first, I mean. I-it was an unconscious thing, you see. A-and whenever I realized what I was doing, I-I would stop, but I— Well, I couldn’t bring myself to destroy them, so I just… hid them instead.”
Crowley glances down at the first sketch he saw, with his long curls and unguardedness. He thinks it might be the first time he met Aziraphale as a demon, on top of that wall. He sure as fuck looks like a smitten, lovesick schoolboy.
Hell’s bells, he’s always worn his fucking heart on his sleeve, huh.  
Aziraphale touches one of the pages closest to him: Crowley holding a coin between his fingers, about to toss him for Edinburgh.
“But no matter how hard I tried,” Aziraphale goes on, “I couldn’t stop completely. I would always find myself drawing you again, despite my futile attempts to push you out of my mind. You’ve always been there, one way or another.”
Crowley bites his lip to stop the words from spilling out: It’s always been the same for me, too, angel.
The space between their bodies is nonexistent now. Crowley leans against Aziraphale’s arm and rests his head on his shoulder. His angel turns to press a soft kiss to his hair.
This is also kind of a miracle, Crowley thinks. The touches and casual displays of affection. How easily those come to them, after millennia of dancing around each other. How quickly they fell into them.  
Aziraphale takes a deep breath. His mouth trembles as he opens it to speak.
“After the world didn’t end, I kept myself from sketching you as often. We were spending more time together, I—I didn’t want to risk you finding out. I was just coming to terms with the depth of my feelings for you, and I… I didn’t know if you felt the same, or if you would think I was silly, or if you would decide not to talk to me again. But I still couldn’t stop altogether.”
Crowley takes one of Aziraphale’s hands between his and touches the pad of each finger, pressing his thumb to the center of the soft palm. He can almost feel Aziraphale’s heartbeat through the skin, knows that’s impossible but doesn’t care much—their corporations have always done what they wanted them to. Crowley might not be good with words, but this, he’s gotten good at.  
Next to him, Aziraphale shudders.
“Even in… Even in Heaven,” he says, his voice quivering, his eyes squeezed shut, and Crowley wants nothing but to pull him close and kiss his temple and tell him it’s okay, it’s all right, they’re here now, Crowley’s forgiven him, there’s no need for more pain, more heartbreak, they’re okay, they made it.
Aziraphale carefully grabs one of the sketches from the pile and shows it to Crowley.
The expression on his face is… it makes something break within Crowley, makes his essence wriggle and writhe in discomfort, makes his skin burn like a scar he can’t touch without slicing it open anew. The devastation in his damp, golden eyes and the defeat in the tight, flat line of his parted lips would be enough to bring him to his knees if he weren’t already sitting.
He doesn’t want to recognize this moment. He doesn’t want to think about it. He doesn’t want to be back there, having poured his heart out, hoping he won’t lose Aziraphale forever, afraid that he will, anyway.
(He did. He did, and he’s dwelled on it enough, and he won’t anymore. It’s not worth any more tears.)
It’s not the only sketch of that day. Crowley counts at least seven more pages with similar images of him (heartbroken, abandoned, alone), not to mention the ones he can’t see.  
“Even while I was… Up There,” Aziraphale starts again, curling his fingers around Crowley’s. “I was unable to stop thinking about you. About your beautiful eyes, your wonderful mouth, that kiss… I…”
He trails off, his eyebrows pinched in what looks like pain. He bites his bottom lip so hard that Crowley swipes the pad of his thumb over it to pull it free. “Aziraphale.”
“Oh, my love,” the angel says, leaning their foreheads together. He pushes his nose against Crowley’s cheek, like he wants to make up for the distance that separated them for months, and all Crowley can do is hold his hand, cup his neck, kiss his eyelids. “My darling, I missed you so much.”
“Me too,” Crowley replies, the only thing he can say without falling apart. “I know, angel. Me too.”
He focuses on the fact that Aziraphale never forgot about him, just as he never forgot about Aziraphale, despite everything. It helps bring him back to the present, to the life they have now. The life they chose for themselves.
Aziraphale slightly shakes his head to himself. He smiles—a small, timid, almost self-conscious sort of thing—and hands Crowley a stack of papers.
“I don’t know about you,” Aziraphale tells him as Crowley takes the stack gingerly, as delicately as he did with a tartan thermos sixty years ago. “But I like these ones much better.”
And then—oh, and then.
The sketches in his hands amount to more than the rest of the drawings combined. The way his hair is styled and the clothes he’s wearing and the lack of sunglasses indicate that these are portraying moments from the last five years or so, once they were… once they were truly on their own side, finally on the same page: him sleeping, smiling, watching the telly, yelling at the plants, working in the garden, looking out the kitchen window, sharing a glass of wine with Aziraphale, and, most telling of all, looking ridiculously, stupidly, tit over arse in love.  
When Crowley runs a finger through the pages, careful not to crinkle the paper, he can feel that love in them. The same love he sees in Aziraphale’s eyes every day, the same love that courses through him whenever Aziraphale holds his hand and entwines their fingers and noses his cheek and scratches his nape and sighs into his mouth.
It’s… it’s surreal, in a way, to see himself the way Aziraphale sees him. His body language is much more relaxed, the edges of his eyes softer, the lines on his forehead less pronounced. Even though the sketches are all black and white, these seem brighter somehow, as though the cloud covering the previous six thousand years of drawings had dissipated before Aziraphale sketched the more recent ones. Not that Crowley can blame him—their time in this cottage has been the happiest he’s been in… centuries. Millennia. Maybe his entire existence.
In these drawings, he looks it, and it would be embarrassing to be so fucking obvious about it if he didn’t know that’s how Aziraphale looks at any given moment as well.
Retirement suits them.
“Yeah,” Crowley agrees. “Yeah, I like ‘em better, too.”
He turns to catch Aziraphale’s gaze, and the radiating joy and calm in his eyes and the easy twitch of his mouth is too much of a temptation to resist. Leaning in to kiss him is the easiest thing in the world, and Aziraphale meets him in the middle.
When the angel holds Crowley’s chin between his fingers to pull him closer, to find the perfect angle so he can deepen the kiss, Crowley melts against him, sinking his hand in the curls on the back of Aziraphale’s head.
Thank you, he wants to say. For loving me all along.
He doesn’t. Instead, he kisses back harder, hoping Aziraphale will still understand what he means.
(He does. Of course he does.)
Later, sitting at the kitchen table, Crowley drinks his cup of coffee and listens to Aziraphale rave about how excited he is to go to the farmer’s market next week while he eats one of the sweets he bought at the bakery. Crowley reaches over the table to take Aziraphale’s hand, and he hides a smile on the rim of his cup when Aziraphale immediately interlaces their fingers, like it’s only natural that he would.
And if, later on, out of the corner of his eye, Crowley sees Aziraphale miracling a notepad and beginning to sketch him, well—he simply looks away and pretends he doesn’t notice. He hopes that’ll convince his angel to show him the finished result.
(Aziraphale shows him.)
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yoongifis · 2 years
Text
💌 | myg drabble 01
; pairing: idol!bf!yoongi x female!reader; established relationship
; genre: fluff
; warnings: none—it’s just some cute stuff(when is it my turn to be happy ;___;), based off of a tiktok trend + fanart
a/n: wrote this on a whim, i didn't really proofread it or anything :p enjoyyyy !!
-
No one had ever expected Yoongi to be this way.
When it came to you, he became clingy, very hands-on, a bit possessive, and soft. He always had this sort of icy, hard exterior to him that kind of made him seem like he would never be interested in those stuff. He was quiet, very introverted, and was always focused on work, work, work.
You suddenly came into his world and knocked a couple things down, melting the ice that surrounded him just to turn out to be the biggest simp for you, his girlfriend. It’s cute, really. He just hates when the boys poke fun at him for it.
Although Yoongi can get busy sometimes, since he clearly is an artist, he always makes sure to make up for all that time lost whenever he gets the chance. Majority of the time, you and him just lay together in silence while he’s either sleeping or doing work or while you’re scrolling on your phone or doing homework for your college courses.
Today isn’t any different from that. You’re sat down on the floor, legs criss-crossed. Yoongi is lying down on his stomach, his head on your lap while his arms wrap around your torso. It’s a funny position, but Yoongi couldn’t care any less about it.
You’re scrolling through Tiktoks on your phone, while your other hand is slowly massaging his scalp, gently raking your fingers through his hair. You come across a video, where an individual took some lipstick and drew half a heart on their partners’ cheek. From there, they took their cheek and pushed it against their own, forming a complete heart when their cheeks were together. Curiosity fills your mind on the topic of whether or not you could successfully do this (just like how you were with many other trends, which you ended up trying out).
You place your phone on the floor and remove your hand from his hair. He instantly grunts from your action.
“Baby? Could you let go of me please?” Your hands are flat on the floor, getting ready to stand up.
“Mm-mm,” he sleepily mumbles, disagreeing with your request.
“I just wanna get something for this trend I saw on TikTok. It’s really cute and you get to be in it too.”
He shakes his head slowly, eyes still closed.
“But Yoongi~,” you whined, “it’ll be quick I promise! After that, we can go back to sleeping together.”
He goes quiet for a second but eventually exhales deeply before slowly getting up. He sits cris-crossed in front of you, eyes slightly closed from still being sleepy. He’s rubbing one of his eyes with his hand, while you push yourself up to get up.
“I’ll be right back, just stay here okay?”
He nods sleepily with one eye squinting open, watching you scurry to the bedroom. Within a couple seconds, you’re already back with something small in your hand, quickly taking a seat in front of Yoongi. He reaches out to touch you, wanting to hold your hand or something but you gently push him away. He pouts, upset with the lack of touch between the two of you.
“Is it okay if I draw something on your face for a TikTok? I’ll eventually have some on my face too.”
“S’okay with me,” he says with a sleepy tone.
You pick up your phone, pressing the record button to capture you drawing half a heart on his left cheek. He scrunches his nose at the feeling of the lipstick smearing against his skin.
With you now sitting next to him, you flip the camera so that it’s on the ‘self cam’ mode, which allows you both to see yourself on the screen.
“Baby, look at this,” you say before you gently grabbed his face with your right hand and pulled it closer to your right cheek.
Yoongi liked this feeling, his cheek squished against yours. He snuggles his head into yours, just like how a cat would.
“Mmm,” he groans, eyes still closed.
“Yoongi~,” you whine with a giggle, “you’re not supposed to move!”
You move your face away from his, turning your face to see your cheek on your phone. Yoongi immediately opens his eyes, upset at loss of your touch. You watch him turn to you through your phone, pouting a bit.
“Ah, it didn’t transfer correctly!”
You laughed at how your cheek was stained with lipstick, no imprint of the half heart anywhere to be found.
Yoongi loved the look of you laughing like that. He wraps his arms around you, pulling you towards him so that the side of your body is against him. He attacks your cheek with kisses, the lipstick on your cheek now transferring onto his lips.
You squeal, his name quickly slipping out of your mouth.
He smiles against your skin, “so pretty,” is all he mumbles.
“Quit it~,” you whined, “it tickles.”
He pulls away with a grunt, he grabs your face to turn it towards him, immediately crashing his lips against yours. He kisses you hungrily, as if he’s a man starved. You do your best in keeping up with him, groaning in his mouth in the process.
He pulls away panting, pressing his forehead against yours, while both of you catch your breaths.
“Times up, baby,” his voice low and gravelly, “let’s go take that nap in bed.”
“Whaaat,” you whine, “but we didn’t even do the TikTok right!”
He’s already getting up and stretching while you talk.
“We can do it redo it later, baby,” he’s pulling you up gently with a grab of your hand, “come on, baby.”
You stand up, hand still in his. He squeezes your hand, starting to walk away from the spot you guys are in until he realizes you won’t budge.
He sighs removing his hand from yours, “you leave me no choice, baby.”
You furrow your eyebrows, wondering what he’s about to do until you see him bending down in front of you. He wraps his arms around your thighs, picking you up with ease, and then throwing you over his shoulder.
“Yoongi!” You squealed, kicking your feet a bit. He’s already walking towards your shared bedroom.
“As much as I like it when you do it in bed, you yell out my name too much, baby. Call me baby or bub, like you usually do, when we aren’t doing it.”
You roll your eyes with a smile, envisioning that smirk on his face.
“You’re so annoying.”
He laughs, shoulders slightly moving up and down as well. While being as gentle and careful as possible, he throws you onto the bed. He pounces on you, immediately wrapping his arms around yours to keep them down, and tangles his legs with yours. He buries his face into the crook of your neck, which is the spot he always looks for.
“Not going to let you go until you finish taking a nap with me,” he mumbles, the air he breathes out tickles your skin.
“But I’m not tired.”
“Do you want me to get you tired? I can easily do that with no problem.”
You feel yourself clench around nothing, squeezing your legs together. You shake your head at him, remembering about the night before.
“Okay, okay I’m sleeping!”
All he does is laugh at your reaction, it was cute.
“That’s what I thought.”
-
check out my other work! click here: 💌
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sneakydraws · 1 year
Note
i wanna see fifty five goldfinch pieces 💔💔
OKAY!! So I have this little series I like to call the great decompartmentalisation of Theo decker... Let me walk you through it. I promise there's art after the massive paragraph of meandering analysis alright
You know how Theo's life is segmented into these distinct episodes? And how he himself is split into multiple different identities, and how much shame and fear there is associated with the idea of those identities mixing? For example: the straight a student living a completely, delusionally idyllic life with his adoring mother and the vanilla teenage troublemaker breaking into people's summer homes with his shady homoerotic bestie. When the two identities come into contact via his suspension, it leads to the most traumatic event in Theo's life, and honestly I suspect that might be the origin of this tendency towards compartmentalisation... I could go through the whole book here but the most prominent examples are Theo panicking at the thought of Mrs Barbour or his therapist finding out about Hobie, his cutting himself off from New York when in Vegas with his other shady homoerotic bestie (the amount of times Vegas is compared to an alien planet...) and his dual post timeskip identifies of charming antiques salesman/fraudulent art stealing junkie. And this often manifests in Theo's reluctance to let people from his different periods interact - see him rushing to stop Boris from talking to Pippa, and him keeping Hobie in the dark about the blackmail, and isn't it kind of weird that the barbours - Theo's soon to be legal family - don't really interact with Hobie and Pippa? Anyway. Basically I thought it would be cool to make a series of little vignettes of theo allowing the people and places and things that represent various versions of Him to interact and thus symbolically healing the disconnected parts of himself... Or something. I have more ideas scribbled down but somehow the only ones I ended up with proper art for is the various holidays (which, holidays are also a weirdly prevalent theme in tgf? Idk whats up with that but it's a good tool for this purpose) so we have:
Christmas Eve at Boris's, featuring Pippa and Hobie - I feel kinda bad for only ever portraying Boris with polish customs but let's be real I'm just using him to show off my own heritage lol. In Poland the main Xmas celebrations happen on Xmas Eve, traditionally with the appearance of the first star in the sky. You eat the mostly inoffensive barszcz as well some truly vile shit, such as mushroom and cabbage dumplings, mushroom and cabbage salad, other items made of mushrooms and cabbage, and finally the most disgusting dish of my life: Jewish style carp. No, it's not quite the same thing as gefiltefish, although that's the Wikipedia page you might use to get to the actual dish. All washed down with compote which I hate. You also break and eat communion wafers while wishing each other stuff, which Pippa is doing with popchyk here hehe
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Christmas breakfast as a little bonus despite it not having much of a tradition - I associate it with lots of hams/cured meats, gherkins and maybe Tatar sauce (yum). Much superior to the Xmas dinner imho. Really I just wanted Theo and Boris to have a moment to themselves haha
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Christmas proper at the barbours, featuring Boris and Tom cable! I could talk about all the tension and who's diffusing it but honestly I think y'all can draw your own conclusions lol. I just think it would be really funny for the infamous dis-engaged couple to each bring their delinquent boytoys and for Boris the drug dealer to actually come out looking superior
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Vegetarian friendly Thanksgiving at Hobie's, as tradition requires! I think he'd love to throw one of his big Thanksgiving parties purely for all of Theo's families to get to know each other... you know, kind of an elaboration on that Thanksgiving illustration I drew a while back! This would be before all the Christmases I think. Boris is winning Mrs Barbour over with his roguish charm lol I think old ladies would like him... Theo in the corner freaking the hell out as per this project's mission statement lmao
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And on a slightly different note I wanted Theo Pippa and Hobie to all visit weltys grave. I'm borrowing slightly from the polish tradition of all saint's day, when you clean, decorate and light candles on the graves of loved ones.
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bmodiwrites · 1 year
Text
You Drew Stars Around My Scars
Hi friends! This one is based of a prompt I got sent a couple of days ago. The general gist of it is janitor x workaholic AU. So, here we are! Eddie's a story board editor with nothing to go home to and Steve, well, he's a janitor. This little beauty is filled with cuteness, a few twists, and lots of steddie goodness. Oh, there's some naught stuff, too. Minors, DNI! Check it out here or over on AO3! Let me know what you think in the comments below <3
Dropping the ludicrously expensive color pencil back onto his drawing desk, Eddie reclines back into his chair. He quickly clenches and unclenches his fingers in a desperate attempt to get some blood flow back to them. The sketch before him, a recent episode idea for Epic Kids, is almost perfect – after ten straight hours of work, Eddie is glad to see the thing finally shaping up into what it’s actually supposed to be.
As a story board artist, the demands on Eddie change daily. He doesn’t work for one show or something simple like that. Instead, he works for a company that dabbles in both television and video games. His projects range from children’s shows to multi-million dollar selling video games. No one knew the 90’s would be the time technology blew up – now, so many different game consoles exist, Eddie is never shy on work.
Upon picking up the craft right out of college, Eddie didn’t expect this to be the rest of his life. Sometimes, though, the world works in mysterious ways. The children’s book he always wanted to write comes alive in the shorts he draws and ideas he shares. Though he’s still wanting to put together a D&D epic for younger kids, Eddie is content enough with his lot to continue doodling on someone else’s dime.
He's about to pick the red pencil back up when the creak of his already open door startles him. It’s well past the time at night where anyone else is usually in the building. Eddie likes to close his door until everyone leaves so he’s got the space to himself. Now, he’s drawing in ambient light with nothing to disturb him – except, he guesses, for a gorgeous man dragging along a cleaning cart.
For a lingering moment, Eddie knows the man hasn’t seen him yet. He’s got headphones covering his ears and his head bobs to the beat. Strong hands are already reaching for the tools he’ll need to clean the floor before clearing out Eddie’s trash. This guy is new because no one ever took the time to sweep up the pencil shavings under Eddie’s desk. Lately, he’s been coming back to the office to a clean space. Now, he knows who the culprit is.
Since the guy still isn’t reacting to Eddie’s presence, brown eyes greedily take in their fill. Though the headphones push it down, the janitor has gorgeous hair. It’s thick and dirty blonde. Eddie thinks about the potential for amazing hairstyles and almost swoons. As his eyes roam a little further, Eddie notices wide wire-framed glasses pushed up an angular nose. They enhance hazel eyes that are now looking at him with a mix of panic and surprise.
“Oh damn, I’m so sorry. No one is ever here, I didn’t even think to knock. I’ll uh – I’ll come back later.” The words are out of the new janitors mouth so fast that Eddie’s head spins. Though, he’s quick to put it on right in hopes of keeping this mouthwatering stranger in the room.
“Hey, it’s alright. I should be thanking you. You’re the first cleaner to ever pick up my pencil shavings. It’s awesome, man. I appreciate it.” Eddie finishes his thanks with a soft smile. It should be enough, saying something sweet before moving on. Yet, it’s not. Eddie feels compelled to keep talking. “Are you new?”
The guy looks incredibly uncomfortable for a second before nodding. It’s brief and coarse but it’s a reaction – one that Eddie wasn’t all that sure he was going to get. Happy with that small crumb, Eddie’s smile widens.
“Cool, you’ll like it here. I’ve been working behind this desk since college. Loved every second of it.”
His comment is met with silence that lingers so long Eddie thinks his new friend is done with the conversation. He’s about to grab at his pencil again when that deep voice sounds off.
“Maybe you’re right. It’s really quiet. I like that.” The man pauses for a second, takes Eddie in. His hazel eyes roam over Eddie’s face and down until he sees the drawing on the desk. For an instant, those eyes widen, but the moment is gone long before Eddie can process it.
“I’ll let you get back to your work, Mr. Munson. Sorry again about the interruption.”
Shrinking back at the name, Eddie calls out immediately – “It’s Eddie. Please, call me Eddie.”
Though the man doesn’t verbally respond or outwardly acknowledge Eddie’s request, there’s a short little nod before the squeaking of the cart sounds again and the enigma of a man is gone as quickly as he came.
Over the next couple of weeks, Eddie changes his routine in hope of bumping into their new custodian again. He walks the halls every couple of hours during the day to see if the man works while the rest of his crew does, but never finds him. He then stays a little later, lingering in his office until the call of food or a television show or plain boredom has him collecting his bags to head off for the night.
Eventually, Eddie’s enigma makes another appearance. This time, though, Eddie is not prepared for him. He’s been curled up into the sanctuary of his arm, napping soundly, since his last meeting. They ripped apart his drawing and asked for something completely different than what Eddie had been picturing. The game isn’t even out yet and Eddie is over it. The headache that sets in kicks his ass, making the call of the flat of his desk so very enticing. He doesn’t know he’s fallen asleep until the door kicks open and he’s blinking awake.
“Shit, I did it again. I’ve been saving your office for last every day, trying not to disturb you on your late nights. Sorry, Mr. – Eddie. I don’t mean to disturb you.”
Sitting up a little straighter in his chair, Eddie stops him before he can go. “Wait! You don’t have to do that. I don’t mind the interruption. It’s probably needed. I’m spending way too much time here, anyway.”
With an invitation to stay, the guy doesn’t take off like the rocket he had just been trying to become. Instead, he lingers in the doorway, eyes roaming over Eddie again. Since they’re staring at one another, Eddie doesn’t disguise his desire to look back.
This time, Eddie notices a thin little mustache that covers red and probably delectable lips. They’re plump and forming words that Eddie is obviously missing out on. He clues back in just in time to catch the tail end.
“ – my friend’s son loves Epic Kids. I get so many more cool points now because I know one of the artists.”
Eddie is glad he managed to tune back into reality – catching that compliment makes the rest of his shitty day seem insignificant. Epic Kids is his pet project, one he’s much more interested in than the stupid game pitch still haunting him from his desk. Though, Eddie is unsure how the man before him knows about his involvement. He hasn’t had a new project for the show cross his desk since they first met.
“How did you know I worked on that show?”
The man smiles then, his lips (they are absolutely kissable, Eddie just knows it) quirk into a knowing grin. For the first time since Eddie encountered him, there’s a sign of life outside of trash cans and a grumpy demeanor.
“That first night I barged in, you were working on a doodle that ended up in yesterday’s show. After Lucas finished up the episode, I watched through the credits. Eddie Munson, Storyboard Editor, is pretty hard to miss.”
“It’s kind of unfair you know my name and I don’t know yours,” Eddie petulantly says before he can stop himself. Though, it’s not a bad thing because the man laughs, genuinely chuckles, and points to the embroidered name on the left side of his tacky blue jumpsuit.
“I’m Steve. Steve Harrington.”
Eddie’s cheeks heat up for some reason, as if access to a name gives him so much more. While it’s just a title to call the hot man that roams the halls at night, Eddie sees the vulnerability as something more. An obvious door has been opened and he’s timidly excited to step through it.
Steve becomes a regular fixture after that. It’s easy for him to wheel his cart into Eddie’s office at the end of the night and make conversation while he goes about his duties. Eddie draws or sits in his chair listening intently to everything Steve’s got to say. He learns about the man’s found family and his platonic soulmate who also doubles as a roommate whenever she’s in town. The connection they have is something that should be cherished, despite only being nurtured for a handful of minutes the nights Eddie can force himself to stay late enough.
There is, of course, an easy fix. Eddie isn’t one to actively pursue another person, especially when he’s not quite sure about their interest. Steve, it seems, is the exception to every rule that Eddie’s ever put into place, however. Their time together is too nice not to extend it past the walls of his workplace. Never mind the fact that Eddie is more than excited by the prospect of Steve in anything but the ugly blue uniform he’s forced to wear. The man is beautiful, Eddie sees that through and through. Something tells him, though, that Steve has lots of potential outside of navy blue.
He bids his time until the perfect opportunity presents itself. It’s a Thursday night and Steve is already talking about the weekend. He has yet to mention Friday night, however, so Eddie takes that as his chance.
“What about Friday? Are you free? There’s this joint in town I’ve been dying to try out, thought you might like to come.”
Eddie waits with bated breath as Steve blinks a few times behind his thick lenses. He goes about putting the trashcan back in its spot, even replaces the bag before looking in Eddie’s direction.
“Uh, yeah. That – that sounds good. I haven’t been out with adults I didn’t grow up with in ages. I think I’d really like that.”
It takes a massive amount of effort for Eddie not to happily jump up from his chair. His fist is tingling with the need to thrust itself into the air in triumph, but Eddie keeps control. After finally securing some extra time with Steve, the last thing Eddie wants to do is muck it up by being over eager or worse – immature with his excitement.
It seems, however, that Steve is just as excited. Pink overtakes his cheeks and a smile that Eddie’s never seen before stretches those gorgeous lips wide. And while he’s not making eye contact with Eddie at all, Steve sneakily glances in his direction time and time again as he finishes up.
Eddie feels like he’s back in high school again, fumbling over his first crush. It’s a glorious thing, experiencing freedom like that after the fickle mundaneness of adulthood.
----
As expected, Steve is an absolute dream out of uniform. The yellow polo Steve’s wearing makes the hazel in his eyes stand out beyond belief. His blue jeans are tight in all the right areas, enhancing thighs and ass like navy blue fabric never could. Eddie has to physically close his mouth upon first glance, lest he starts drooling before the date actually gets started.
Thankfully, Steve spots him across the weird little bar and makes a beeline in Eddie’s direction. The space they’re in is an eclectic little place that serves beer while it’s patrons play mini golf on the two courses out back. It’s one of the coolest things Eddie has seen – he desperately hopes this little place won’t be the last of such an interesting idea.
Everyone around them looks to be enjoying themselves, either way.
Glad for that knowledge and reassurane, Eddie makes quick work of getting them both a drink and the things they need to play the first course. Steve is slightly stiff as they start but loosens up by the third hole.
Now that they’re not in the noisy bar and the party before them is a couple holes ahead, Steve relaxes. He starts to shoot better and actually takes a couple pulls of his drink. It’s a relief because Eddie already thought he blew it.
As it turns out, Steve is just a man with a little social anxiety. When it’s just the two of them, Eddie gets so much from Steve. He talks about his family the most, the little brother (who’s not actually a ‘real’ sibling, though Steve counts him as one) that’s been a pain in his ass most of Steve’s life, the niece and nephew he spoils incessantly. It’s a beautiful thing to experience a person so dedicated to the people around them.
Eddie tries to reciprocate by telling him about art school and the program he did throughout. He talks about the children’s book he wants to write, despite never spilling the beans of that to anyone else in the entire world. Uncle Wayne doesn’t even know the plot of Eddie’s dream work. For some reason, Eddie can’t stop himself from speaking so earnestly to Steve. It doesn’t hurt, however, that Steve is pretty candid with his words, too.
The only thing that Steve doesn’t talk about is himself. After the first date and then the second, Eddie chalks it up to nerves and taking things slow. He’s in deep already, so the change in pace is a welcome thing.
Except, it keeps happening the longer they’re together. Two dates turns to two months of dating, two months of Steve avoiding questions, two months of them never once setting foot in Steve’s apartment. Admittedly, the lack of personal details is a little off putting. Though, Eddie is eager enough to see where things might go with Steve that he pushes all of that aside. One day, one day really soon, Steve will open up.
It eventually happens, just not in the way Eddie ever thought it would.
For the first time in their entire relationship, Steve’s walking him towards his door. Well, he’s backing Eddie up against it because they can’t keep their hands off each other. Between their intense connection and the chemistry that runs rampant, Eddie’s been edging himself, waiting for this very moment. It’s a little much now that it’s happening but Eddie’s here for it, eager and willing, too. So much so that he doesn’t question Steve leaving off lights as they stumble inside.
Despite the time it took them to get here, Steve is anything but patient and inexperienced. He doesn’t fumble or miss buttons in the darkness of the room. His accurate attack gets Eddie out of his clothes in record time.
Instead of taking off his own, however, Steve immediately drops to his knees, eager hands finding Eddie’s cock without struggle. Long fingers wrap around the base while Steve’s other hand drops to Eddie’s balls. He rolls them at the same time the wetness of his mouth sucks in the head of Eddie’s cock. It’s so glorious, Eddie can do nothing but thread his fingers through Steve’s hair and pull him closer.
The suction is so good that Eddie has to dig the nails of his free hand into the fleshy skin of his palm. Drawing blood is the only thing stopping Eddie from shooting down Steve’s throat but it’s all too good to make him stop. At least, Eddie thinks that until the end is actually imminent. Then, he tugs on Steve’s hair, pulling him off as gently as possible.
“You’re way too good at that. Care for a little something more?” Eddie asks as Steve stands up from his spot on the ground. There’s a smile on his face, though Eddie barely recognizes it in the dark. He thinks to ask about the light but bypasses the urge – if Steve wanted them on, he would’ve flipped the switch as he passed.
Knowing that, Eddie is a little surprised that Steve takes off his clothes at all. Usually when a person liked to keep the lights off, they liked to keep their clothes on, too. Steve, it seems, is filled with contradictory worries and triggers. He sheds his clothes in the same manner he disrobed Eddie. It’s efficient and quick and soon, they’re both standing in front of each other naked as can be.
Steve doesn’t give Eddie much time to take him in. That self-conscious air is back, despite Steve covering it up by sliding his body on top of Eddie’s on the mattress. They fit together so well it’s difficult to keep up with anything at all aside slick slide of Steve’s hips as he grinds down against Eddie. Their cocks are both wet with pre-cum that makes each brush of their pelvises an electric thing. Eddie is already done in – he’s not sure how much more he can take.
There must be precognition in Steve’s life because he moves away from Eddie right as he thinks that. It’s both a torture and relief, one that’s only made better by Steve shifting his body so he can dig into the bedside table for a condom and some lube. The triumphant little noise he makes is kind of nice, too. It reorients Eddie back to the real reason they’re taking each other apart. He loves Steve. Steve loves him. Coming together like this is the ultimate culmination of their feelings for each other.
That thought echoes in Eddie’s head while Steve lubes up a finger, then leaves a dollop of the cool liquid on Eddie’s hip for later. When that finger breaches him, Eddie lets Steve project his love into him, feeling complete for the first time since things started between them. It’s satisfying and dizzyingly delicious.
Steve is very good at the things he’s doing to Eddie. His fingers take no time at all to find Eddie’s prostate. They nail the bundle of nerves tirelessly before not touching it again for many minutes on end, despite more digits coming to the party.
Eventually, three fingers barely skim against it by the time Steve’s getting antsy for more. Eddie too is right there with him.
“I’m good, Steve. I’m good. I need you, baby.”
A soft chuckle slips from Steve’s lips that are pressed against Eddie’s neck. While hands fumble between them, Steve kisses and nips little marks into soft skin, distracting them both from the lurid slip of a condom down Steve’s cock. Eventually a hard tip presses against Eddie’s entrance and the softest of whispers echoes in his head.
“I’ve got you, Eds. I’ve got you,” Steve mumbles, his words laced with lust and want and anticipation that reaches a peak as Steve finally presses inside.
It’s so difficult to keep his composure, Eddie doesn’t even try. He yells out a loud “fuck” that sits in the room with them. While Steve draws back and thrusts forward, Eddie clings to him. He runs his hands over Steve’s back and sides, tracing lines of something like scarring from one side of his torso to the other. If he was thinking straight, Eddie would’ve taken that all into account. Instead, he wraps his arms around Steve’s neck and lets the man drop even more weight upon him, distracting Eddie further.
When the end comes creeping near, Steve’s head is tucked into Eddie’s neck, his harsh breath like a tsunami’s wind. Eddie is hanging on the precipice, already able to cum for minutes now. He’s clutching to that edge just to make sure he tumbles off at the same time Steve does. It only takes a handful of thrusts and a cleverly placed bite of Steve’s teeth right above Eddie’s collarbone for both boys to free fall into the unknown abyss of immaculate pleasure.
Eddie must black out because the next time he blinks back to consciousness, there’s light streaming through Steve’s windows. There are curtains but each one is pulled back, letting in the light.
It’s then that Eddie sees them, the reasons behind Steve’s need to keep the lights off in front of Eddie. There are scars everywhere that Eddie can see. Some are long and thin while others look like something tried to take a bite out of Steve’s skin. The flesh is red and raised, though healed completely all the same. Eddie wants to reach out and touch but he refrains. Intimacy is a gift he doesn’t want to give away. Misplacing Steve’s trust in him is not at all what Eddie wants to do.
Already, it’s too late, though. Steve turns slightly, revealing more of the scars on his chest and neck. There’s a long line around his throat that Eddie is surprised he’s never noticed. It obviously hides well under all the clothes Steve wears. This time, he doesn’t tamp down the urge. His fingers brush up against Steve’s neck on their own accord.
“What happened, Steve?” Eddie’s eyes are welling up with tears. He can’t decide if he’s mad at whatever did this or overwhelmed with the need to care for the man before him. That must be clear – Steve doesn’t draw away or try to hide. He rolls over completely and pulls Eddie into his arms.
“It’s – really hard to explain,” Steve starts, his hand idly running up and down Eddie’s sides as they cuddle. “The town I grew up in, Hawkins – it made the news a bunch of times a few years ago.”
Sensing some familiarity, Eddie wracks his brain, trying to remember but New York is a long way away from Indiana. He still nods his head, willing Steve to go on.
“Some crazy stuff went down that you probably won’t believe. In the end, I took a beating to make sure my family got to see another day. I got… taken and the things that were trying to tear Hawkins apart, they did this to me. A couple times over.”
Steve’s a little breathless when he finishes. Despite not sharing all that many details, Eddie knows whatever he just purged from Steve is a lot. It’s something that’s stricken him down in unimaginable ways.
For all it’s worth, Eddie leans further into Steve, dragging him in a little closer. He doesn’t know what to say but that seems to be okay. Steve wraps him up tighter and lets the easy silence settle between them. Without noticing, both drift off again.
Between a nap and another round of amazing sex a while later, Eddie is famished when they eventually resurface to go about the rest of the day.
Steve volunteered to cook so Eddie wanders around the apartment. He takes in the comic books and CDs. There are toys in a box in a corner and a big tv box tucked into a nice looking stand. It’s simple and nice and totally not what Eddie expected at all.
Neither is the master’s degree Eddie sees hanging from the wall.
“Steve, you went to college? For longer than the mandatory four years?” Eddie’s voice is high, the shock clearly coming through.
Steve comes bounding around the corner, a spatula still in his hand. “What are you screaming about in here?”
Eddie takes a long breath and then another. He looks at the diploma on the wall and then back at Steve. “You never said you were a college boy.”
Laughing lightly, Steve shrugs his shoulders. “You never asked.”
“But – “ Eddie starts, his face flushing. The mere thought is too much. How can he ever say the words?
Steve, of course, beats him to it. “But what? But I’m a janitor? You know, Eddie – that’s pretty narrow minded of you.” The words hold no malice, despite the tone of Steve’s voice.
“I don’t like people or crowds. I have PTSD from all the trauma in my teens. Offices and university campuses are the Mecca of loud noises and large masses of other humans. Instead of putting myself into danger, I work a slow job that fits my complexities. It’s exactly what I need, Eddie. Kind of like you.”
The last sentence is enough to make Eddie’s head spin. He for sure thought he was getting a lecture where in fact he gets the opposite.
Steve strides towards his bookcase a determined look in his eye. He searches and skims his fingers over book spines until the right one is in his hands. “Read this. You might understand things a little better. I always told anyone who asked that the events weren’t real but they are. Everything I wrote down in that book is what me and my friends went through. All of it.”
Steve taps the top, looking directly at Eddie. “Read it, don’t read it. If you’re curious about me, you’ll find a lot of what you want to know between those pages.”
All the sudden, Eddie remembers where he heard the name Hawkins before, where he’d even been privy to Steve’s name prior to them meeting. Looking down at the book in his hands, Eddie distinctly remembers demogorgons and bats with tails that stung and ripped and tore. Quickly, Eddie riffled through the pages in order to get to the back cover.
There, in all his gorgeous glory, was Steve Harrington, not at all smiling at the camera. Reading into the bio, Eddie ticked off all the educational credentials that Steve has. Two master’s and a prestigious scholarship from the university he used to teach at. Despite himself, Eddie is surprised, yet not all at the same time.
Instead of continuing to read through the book in hopes of finding out more details, Eddie closes it and puts it back on the shelf where Steve found it. Sucking in a long breath, Eddie nods, then goes to join Steve in the kitchen. Now that the cats out of the bag, Eddie thinks he might enjoy learning more about his boyfriend strictly from the source himself.
As Eddie settles himself against Steve’s back, he allows himself to relax. Steve’s mystery is one Eddie can’t wait to pick apart. Until the clues lay themselves out for him, however, Eddie’s content to hold onto Steve tight and see where the road leads them. It’s too easy to be enraptured by a man that holds his hand while flipping pancakes with the other.
“Thanks,” Eddie whispers as the breakfast making commotion calms down.
Steve doesn’t ask him what he’s thankful for or demand an explanation. He simply pulls Eddie close and silently finishes breakfast.
Slow and steady.
Absolutely perfect in every way.
tag list (message if you'd like to be added): @infinite-orangepeel, @thefreakandthehair, @corrodedcoughin, @prettyboisteveharrington, @writer-in-theory
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rontra · 1 year
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Pls tell us more about ur summer/salem rare pair cuz I'm so interested
ok ok stupid ass post incoming its also at least a couple thousand words long so be warned
like i CAN yes, but it'll be rambling and inconveniently longwinded!
this is because my thoughts on this and the context for the pictures i drew actually hinges on a bunch of rwby analysis that has to be established First for any of my conclusions to make sense. i actually thought about making a comic about them to lay this stuff out in a more convenient format…maybe i will do it, but until then, umm. i'm sorry about this level 9000 nerd wizard post. it's the autism and passion for women kissing (the 2 reasons behind everything i do)
as an aside before i lose my lucidity, i'm not claiming the stuff i'm about to set up is 100% absolutely indisputably true and if you disagree you're wrong. it's just sort of my interpretation of a bunch of different stuff. it's fine if you disagree or have your own reading! but for the purposes of this specific content we're discussing, in the context of the women kissing AU if you will, these are presupposed "truths" . idc if you think i'm wrong as hell in real life! but in the world of the pictures i drew/my feelings on this ship, this is the list of Things That Must Be True.
(the salem/summer torment nexus is built on a bunch of overthinking rwby and then a little bit of lesbian high romance, so we do reach a point where we finally veer off from "analyzing rwby" and into "and that is why women kissing women", but that is, all i can do . because just putting down the "here's why they should kiss" conclusion makes me sound insane. so before we go into why they should kiss in the way i've depicted, here are some points that must first be true)
Summer is alive and well, and
Summer is Salem's unseen lieutenant at Beacon, and is working for her by her own free will, because
Salem is right (caveats about being evil rn notwithstanding) and
Remnant treats them in similar ways, for opposite purposes (thus in the women kissing women world, they are not only women who should kiss, but foils who should kiss: a far more powerful gameplay unit that inflicts a Brainrot DoT on its target (me))
i'm not going to be completely thorough here: i'm omitting anything that doesn't feel immediately important to understanding me, so if it feels like i skipped something, i definitely did. please bear with me bc this post's existence is already hilarious. the omissions probably aren't me missing things (depending on what it is) i'm just genuinely trying not to get derailed by factoring in every nuance and perspective (which rwby has, A Lot, of,). do not tweet at me
1 and 2 are almost self-explanatory, so they're quick: scenes about summer are nigh-universally conspicuous in how they talk about her, and there are too many questions raised about her/her fate that only she (and salem) could answer. her just being dead is too straightforward for all this effort, so something else is surely going on. in v8, the "Hound Summer" idea is raised, but i don't think they would let a character onscreen spill the beans ahead of time if it was actually the truth. (additionally, salem herself describes the hound as "an experiment", indicating there isn't like a bunch of them running around or anything...)
HOWEVER, letting ruby draw the "hound summer" conclusion on screen leads me to believe the actual truth is not FAR away: it'll be a knife-twist on what ruby said. the More Harrowing version of "my mom is alive but a tool for salem against her will" feels like it's naturally "my mom is alive and working for salem on purpose".
for 2, salem has an additional lieutenant that we have not been shown; being at beacon working on the Beacon Relic Puzzle ever since the Fall. we see salem contacting this agent to give them verbal instructions over the grimmphone, which is…not typically how she directs grimm, suggesting it is a person. we aren't privy to any further information about this person except their station being Beacon, which…i hate to say it but that's a "dramatically seeing summer rose alive" ass place….
the REASON for summer being salem's lieutenant as opposed to A) dead, B) a tool, C) a double agent, D) literally anything else, is because of 3 and 4.
this is where things are gonna get really cringe and potentially deranged but i need you to stay with me. let's go in order and focus on 3 first: salem is right.
saying this will cause some immediate pushback from some people, but to those people, please set that gut reaction aside for now and play in the space with me; i'm not saying that her current plan of action is like, nice, or Good, but i'm saying she is ideologically the one in the right. like Thematically. it took a lot of work for the world to make her be evil (across quite literally millions of years, potentially hundreds of millions) and now she's like "fine i'm about to be hilarious", but in the fundamental conflict rwby is about, she hasn't stopped being RIGHT.
just before this, someone on twitter asked me what i think salem's goal is, because a lot of people jump to assuming it's planet-destroying stuff; i had to make it a twitlonger just to answer them because (in case it wasnt obvious already) im head FULL thoughts SALEM mouth RAMBLING. instead of spending time and wordcount rehashing all of that i'll just relink it here because all of it is important to THIS discussion too: http://www.twitlonger.com/show/n_1ss7lck
You Have To Read That Post Because I Won't Re-Type It. But It Is Important For This Post. TM.
ok. you're back? hi. sorry about that. let's continue
okay so we have the "disquietingly genocidal if carried out to its natural conclusion, which is that we should surrender ourselves to the complete custody of the World Destroyer" guy, and the "humanity inherently has a right to exist and doesn't need babysitting from someone who believes otherwise" guy. One of these sides is currently in control of remnant. and it's not the one you'd hope! and it's not the one the show agrees with.
(sidenote before it's too late I should clarify i have a Lot of thoughts about ozma's side of all this and like i said rwby is incredibly rich when you begin to mine for nuance and in-universe perspectives; i love that guy to bits and pieces. there are a lot of angles to this dangle. it's just that neither the twitlonger nor this post is About Him, so if it sounds like im dismissing his own nightmare situation i'm NOT im just not posting About Him Right Now. love you oz sorry you're also in the bullshit swamp etc amen)
i mention this very briefly in the twitlonger, but ozma has a vested interest in A) wiping salem from history/humanity's knowledge, and B) making sure the people who DO know about her see her as completely incapable of being reasoned with, the source of all evil, and so on. he's been pretty aggressive in these efforts, successfully paring salem's perpetual existence in remnant down to a spectrum ranging from "i have never heard of this woman in my life" to "exaggerated fairytale image that can be safely ignored" and maybe like "scary witch story to keep kids from wandering into the woods (FAKE, NOT REAL)". and to his circle, she's evil incarnate, and nothing more—still the fairytale witch, just an actual threat this time.
there seems to be a belief among some of the characters in the show that if you stop salem, you win; you've Fixed The Problem. in this way of thinking, salem is the one thing holding remnant back from being Normal And Good. she is the single cog not turning in time with the rest of remnant, and she is Fucking Up The Machine For Everybody. obviously this is a very simple and easy way of looking at her, and it is also desperately encouraged by ozma's version of the story. for his story to work, salem MUST be the source of all evil, the well it all springs from, the clear villain who's behind every bit of suffering and wants to destroy humanity; if she is NOT, his own comprehension of his trauma falls apart, his life's work and mission loses meaning, and the world he's built on them falls apart too.
(unfortunately, you cannot fix a dysfunctional world by destroying a single woman (no matter how much some certain gods try to tell you otherwise) if the dysfunction is systemic and foundational the way remnant's is)
with that in mind, summer rose (aw hey girl i forgot you were in this post) seems like a pretty stark opposite to her. but i would like to argue the…opposite. opposite double reacharound combo: They Are The Same edition. aka 4
okay, so, another facet of ozma's ideology that goes pretty visibly hand in hand with his own baggage (rip) is the fixation on this, idea of, a Hero. a Guardian. a "simple soul". specifically, he tends to nominate a Lone Hero, who must shoulder an unfathomable burden—usually a secret one—with little to no support (because they cannot share the burden). and this is, demonstrably and in no uncertain terms, a practice that breaks heroes.
(without getting too distracted: this is pretty obviously what was also done to HIM, and ozma continuing this pattern is not surprising with that fact in mind; i do sympathize. but girl…<3 you are crafting the crux of an insane post on rontra.tumblr.com and you dont even know it)
the Lone Hero is perfect. they fight alone, carrying humanity's light, and when they die they do so heroically, righteously, bravely. they are a symbol, praised and exalted even into their own deaths. their torch doesn't burn for long, but it's beloved whilst it does! the superhero dies young, but dies well.
this idea is a motif that recurs in rwby; all four Maidens are historically isolated, working alone, their very existence a secret except for when they swoop in to save the day. Huntsmen can become Lone Heroes if they're exemplary or unlucky enough. it was done to Pyrrha on-screen, by backing her into a corner and nominating her for an unfathomable burden she could not possibly refuse—and it lead to her death, alone, in a fight she knew she could not win.
of course, it also intersects with the Silver-eyed Warriors, who are (like Maidens) secret and largely isolated, but (especially when combined with being Huntsmen) make extremely powerful Lone Heroes. THERE'S our girl we've been waiting for! summer came out of the extremely notable team STRQ, and she's got silver eyes; with her pedigree we've got another legendary Grimm Reaper on our hands!
ha ha…
the weight must be crushing.
i can't say for sure why summer left; maybe she really thought going in guns blazing could finish this. maybe she had encountered a piece of information that alarmed her, or even seemed to corroborate something Raven tried to tell her team years prior. maybe it was something else that drove her to take the fight to salem on a solo mission. maybe being a Hero from a broken team just does that to your brain. we don't know yet! but she went out alone and she met up with salem.
this was never going to work, and not ONLY because salem can't be killed: it's doomed because rwby, the show, does not give praise to self-sacrifice. it is opposed to the very idea of the Lone Hero. when characters break the buddy system and face the bullshit alone, they usually don't get out unscathed, and usually don't succeed in accomplishing much of note. if anything at all, they usually attain something temporary or minor that isn't at all worth the sacrifice they made. because how can anything be worth that? rwby so far is pretty against the idea of both a lone hero and of "good death"; you can't die heroically, because you only ever die tragically.
but the Hero, Lone or otherwise, is needed. it's a twisted hope, but it is hope: there are people, real heroes, who will do anything to save us; including die, over and over and over and over and over again. remnant runs on hero blood. the academies are major arteries that pump out more of it, and even while you're at an academy you're not in the clear, because the students are included as a layer of protection around the relic. if something comes for the school, you are intended to die for it.
Like it or not, the people that hired me are going to change the world! You can't stop 'em, I can't stop 'em! You wanna be a hero? Then play the part and die like every other Huntsman in history!
and the selected Lone Heroes, even more so, are intended to die fighting an unwinnable fight, bearing unfathomable burdens. proverbially speaking, it keeps the lights on: keeps the fight going. keeps humanity from losing its grip on faith. and it completely robs each Hero of their humanity.
this kind of hero is not human: it's romantic like a fairytale and reduces a human being to a symbol. one of hope, sure, but a symbol nonetheless. the perfect hero isn't permitted to doubt or fear or hesitate. they're something distant, something else, something beyond humanity, something conceptual. and THIS, (points at it) is BAD
but it is the other side of the coin. the Lone Hero who represents all of humanity's hope has a natural obverse: the Sole Evil responsible for all of the world's darkness. the Single Enemy who springs forth all the things the Single Light stands against. these two concepts together pull an astonishing amount of the weight to make ozma's ideology function. without them, the wheels do not turn.
it's important how successfully ozma has eradicated salem's humanity and cast her as a force of blind evil. you can't reason with her, it's futile to try… but we know that salem may be very fucked up indeed to people, but she's also plenty willing to talk; essentially the only reason no one even thinks to try it is because her carefully designed reputation precedes her. the ruling world ideology prominently features the bastions of humanity, the bulwark against evil, the Lone Hero figure; the Guardian…and it hinges almost entirely upon the Sole Evil of salem, who can't be reasoned with but must be destroyed, even though the war against her is eternal, impossible, unsustainable.
by design, neither one is permitted any humanity at all.
Summer Rose and Salem are both ideological work-horses. in the world of remnant, neither of them can retain their humanity: they are conceptual existences that pull ozma's world through the motions, step by agonizing step. they are both yoked to the same plough.
if those two TALKED—and salem is very much willing to talk—i think a lone hero with a passion for humanity and way too much skin in the game would be repulsed by the system she lives in. she would recognize that she (and huntsmen as a broader institution) would be in the Wrong to support ozma—and by extension the gods, who look at humanity as a thing to be corralled and punished, something that must actively justify its own right to exist—
—that she's got two kids in this world, and she suddenly hopes to high heaven that they never get pulled into the same cannon fodder machine that created the Guardian summer rose, who bleeds and bleeds so that all humanity can cling to a hope that is bound to be false because the arbiters of their worth do not find them inherently worthy of life—
But, baby, please don't do what I did; I don't want you to waste your life in vain.
the reason women should kiss is that there is a mutual understanding that they are both beasts of burden to this world: two less-than-human icons, unpersoned on purpose, merely representing a concept. they perform roles in a narrative written by somebody else. they are not human! they are bearing unimaginable weight in service of an idea!
and they don't want to see humanity's fate be shackled to that idea for a moment longer.
i think when i say summer/salem most people think im trying to conjure like a dark spicy image full of like, power and control, and tension, and stuff. and there's nothing wrong with those, i do make a lot of those. but in reality im picturing the most tender secret in all of remnant. could you imagine?
...they are both yoked to ozma's ideology in these weird twisted ways so theres a lot of understanding and sympathy there, even if their Functions are different. opposite even. perhaps like foils one could say...
it's a ship built on that kind of understanding. the theme tying it together is that grueling dehumanization and the tenderness of seeing that you're both human to the core regardless. remnant yearns to grind them both up, one in service of the other, for a horrifically cruel ideal they can't just lie down and surrender to. humanity deserves better. so do they.
salem is right. summer rose knows it.
in the pictures i made, there's a protective angle to their poses and interactions: sort of a knightly, HER Warrior, type thing. "NOT YOUR SACRIFICE". etc. i guess salem is a lady with a tendency to attract the heroic knightly type (rimshot)
and that's why summer and salem should kiss. i dont know. i know im the one that locked you in this room but we should get out of here before i transform like a werewolf. wanna listen to Until The End in the car?
to live free or die, it’s all the same the enemy was right, there’s no reclaiming in waves of shame, we’re desperate to make amends but through a simple soul we lie complacent.
awoo...
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