"Holy shit, you're real." with Fallen Angel Enjoltaire?
Okay I’m not the best at this story arc/trope so please forgive me if this isn;t what you wanted <3
He had always associated Enjolras with falling.
Falling head over heels, falling sideways just to see him, falling in love.
It was only fitting that he had found him here. Fallen.
Although fallen was perhaps not the best choice of words. Enjolras had clearly been here for a long time. His skin was freezing upon contact. It was hard for Grantaire to understand what he was seeing. It was all so surreal, but he was not questioning it. After all, how many times had he compared Enjorlas to an angel?
“Holy shit,” Grantaire whispered, despite the fact that Enjolras unconscious and could not hear him. “You’re real.”
Shrugging off his coat, Grantaire wrapped it around Enjolras’ bare back, only pausing briefly to look in awe and in a strange way even admire the cruel markings on his back. It was as though the wings had been pulled straight from his blades, leaving nothing but two ugly and large scars on the top of his back.
He was grateful for the darkness that surrounded them as he lifted Enjolras into his arms. He was so much lighter to lift than what was humanly possible, and as he begun to walk back towards his home, he couldn’t help but look down onto the face that he’d always admired, always venerated, always loved.
He wasn’t human. He was other-worldly. He was ethereal. Grantaire had believed all of these things before he had had proof.
Enjolras’ eyes slowly began to flutter open. Grantaire felt an uncomfortable knowledge clutch at his chest. This was not a secret he was supposed to know. There were many that Enjolras trusted above him.
“R?” Enjolras asked softly as his eyes became focused, his voice not quite there yet.
“Don’t move too much.” Grantaire replied, attempting to keep his own voice steady and his face stoic. As though he hadn’t just stumbled upon the most incredible thing in his life. “I’m taking you home.”
Enjolras closed his eyes tightly. He seemed to be in great pain, and this too hit Grantaire hard.
“I tried to go home.” Enjolras whispered, his lips were trembling. “I thought I was ready. They still don’t want me.”
“I know how that feels.”
Grantaire said quietly. He fell silent for a moment, focusing on his steps. “It might not be home, but you’ll always have a place with me.”
Maybe it was his imagination, or the uncomfortable way the chill snapped at his arms, but Grantaire could have sworn he felt Enjolras hold onto him tighter after that.
This is my attempt to
explain the beauty of Adam Driver’s face: CONTRAST.
Anyone familiar with art principles knows that contrast draws attention and is visually pleasing. It is a tool
artists use to direct a viewer’s gaze.
Adam Driver’s face has layers of contrast:
Light/dark: Pale skin contrasts dark hair
(also, light and dark sides of the force for Kylo Ren)
Hard/soft: prominent brow
ridge, aquiline nose, pointed chin, and broad shoulders contrast with the flowing curves of his hair, his soft jawline, his
rounded ears, and his large, round eyes
features of brow ridge and deep set eyes, adam’s apple (deep voice), large
nose, broad shoulders, and facial hair (usually) contrast with feminine features like long eyelashes and large round
eyes, paler skin, long wavy hair, fuller soft lips, and a softer jawline
Typical beauty/ugly: Large
ears, large nose, long face, contrast
with full lips, large eyes, broad shoulders, and luscious hair
The contrast in Adam Driver’s face (and even his personality and most
of his characters) is what makes him so appealing. He is strong yet vulnerable.
He is intense yet kind. He is awkward yet elegant. He is relatable yet mysterious. He is languid yet bursting with energy. He is intimidating yet endearing. He defies categorization and definition. This
is what draws attention to Adam Driver. This is why he has such presence. This is why people can’t stop
looking at him.
I also would like to draw special attention to some certain features of
EYES: Huge and watery and deep and dark round surrounded by luscious
dark lashes. Both size and roundness draw attention and create interest.
EARS: Their roundness flows perfectly into the waves of his hair.
LIPS: Pink and full and beautiful.
BEAUTY MARKS: Both endearing and beautiful. They add additional contrast to his pale skin and adds
variety and interest to the symmetry of his face.
FACE LENGTH: A long face adds an additional height illusion to his
already impressive height. Both his long face and height give him a thinness that
contrasts with the bulky muscles of his perfectly toned body.
And now, there is just one last reason Adam Driver’s face is so beautiful:
he has a unicorn soul, a heart of gold, and a reflective mind of bottomless depth. Like, he is just a really great
person and you can see it in his eyes, okay?
ART SCHOOL | LAUREN ASTA (Chicago, IL) | Vans US Open of Surfing 2017
We’re excited to spotlight the artists for this year’s 2017 Vans US Open of Surfing that is set to begin July 29th To August 6th in Huntington Beach, CA. Our first artist spotlight starts with talented, hard working, and art touring muralist and public artist Lauren Asta! Starting with a massive 3,000 sq ft mural at Faction Brewery in 2015, Asta has been non-stop mural and art touring, bringing her signature black and white, free flowing and spontaneous doodles to walls and buildings all over. She’s not only extremely talented but also straight up fearless, as we find out in this Q&A with Lauren, where we talk about how she got started painting murals, her art background, and what event she’s looking forward to see at this year’s 2017 Vans US Open of Surfing.
Soulmate au #6 Nurseydex Angsty with a happy ending Please and thank you!
Notes: Jenna and Aubrey are Dex’s sisters also his family calls him Liam (hc)
6. the one where when you
dream you’re seeing whatever your soulmate is currently experiencing.
When Derek sleeps, he sees large, ugly white kids pushing
him to the ground, making fun of his hand-me-down clothes, his worn out
sneakers, his red hair, his freckles, his owlish glasses. The kids spit on him,
kick him, punch him until he’s covered in bruises and blood. They destroy his
bike and force him to walk three miles home in the rain. They shove his face
into the toilet bowls in the eighth grade bathroom. They call him a ‘faggot’,
which stings like alcohol in a deep wound, they isolate him from the rest of
the children, they break his arm. He sits on the kitchen time after time while
Aubrey or his mother dabs his face with hydrogen peroxide and his father
pinches the bridge of his nose and grunts about how “Liam needs to stand up for
himself, be a man.”
When Liam sleeps he sees his mothers pulling him closer to
their legs on the subway, getting disgusted looks from large white men, other
kids in his class calling him a ‘hood rat’ and a ‘brownie’ even though he lived
in a brownstone in upper Manhattan and his parents were black and middle eastern not
black and white. He saw his parents
sitting him down to explain how the world perceives him as a black man, how he
can never be too careful, too cautious, especially around the police, or large
groups of white men or white women. He saw kids at Andover giving him dirty
looks, refusing to sit with him at lunch, pulling their belongings closer to
themselves in the locker room. He heard countless numbers of people call him
the n word for literally just existing. He had seen his soulmates face getting stitches and nose casts until the nurses in the E.R. knew him personally.
Derek knew what his soulmate looked like because he had
spent so long staring into mirrors, tugging at his ears, poking at his
freckles, brushing back his hair. William had freckles over the bridge of his
nose and up his cheekbones, across his shoulders and down the tops of his
thighs, hair the color of flames and eyes like amber honey. Derek had gotten to
know the body pretty well, especially because several times he had closed his
eyes to find Will in the shower or changing in front of a mirror. So when the
tour of Samwell ends with them milling around Faber, Derek catches his eye
across the bleachers and he can’t stop his heart from hammering. When he
approaches Dex, he finally looks into those amber eyes and he melts.
“If we’re being completely honest, and I want to be, with
you, I loved the glasses. They made you look mad smart.” He’s relieved when
Will laughs so he continues, “You know, Jenna was right. Some people are into
“I can’t believe how people treat you.” Which is a sobering comment. Derek takes his hand
It had started earlier on with the screaming and then the
tantrums. Eventually, the once peacefully home had become a war zone.
let his temper get the best of him yet again. He had lost the Universal
Championship to Goldberg, ended his on-screen friendship with Chris Jericho and
thought that the best way to handle his anger was by taking it out on you. Shit, he thought. It resulted in three bags
filled with your belongings being packed and you leaving the apartment
earlier that day.
And the lights went off before anyone got a good look. Everyone in the room had to hear each other without knowing beauty or ugliness, without large or small, without weak or strong. Only judged by personality, by tone, by passion, by vocabulary. Through voice alone, some fell in love and some fell out of it. And then the lights came back on, and all returned to normal. - wishing you were here
has anyone else seen that animated short film where there are no more females and the men have mutated into … kinda large grey ugly versions. And then the mutated men find a girl doll and one tries to have sex with it and the other ‘men’ get jealous and it ends up getting torn apart. There are two child characters and near the end one of them has their period.
Symbra Week fic for Day 2: Fantasy AU (Skyrim AU to be exact) | ao3
Sombra, the one and only Dragonborn, is terrible at completing quests for the wonderful people of Skyrim. Can her new traveling companion, Satya Vaswani, get her back on track towards saving the land from dragons and stuff? Probably not…
Satya Vaswani was pleased with her
former life; a rising star among the Scholars at the College of
Winterhold and a master Conjurer without peer. Why did she give up
that life to spend most of her days following the Dragonborn into
damp, dark caves all throughout Skyrim? She wasn’t entirely sure of
Hi, your writings are lovely, and very well thought out ^^ Here's a question: how would each of the guard leaders react at discovering Gardienne was trying to hide a wound from them? Sorry in advance if I have formulated the question poorly ^^'
You flatterer. Now I need to reward you with three scenarios. ;)
Nevra: Activates ‘Parent’ Mode
Nobody slips past the vampire while he’s awake. His people are evolved
hunters, born with the ability to pinpoint spilled blood from at least a
quarter of a mile away, with just their nose. If it’s even closer than that, he
can tell which approximate species just met with an accident.
So the moment the Guardian returns to HQ, and does not make a beeline to the infirmary,
he’ll intercept them in private before the hour is out. Spooking them is a
bonus. Leaning against a convenient pillar right in their path, his arms
folded, and his expression set in a cool frown that simultaneously says “I am
disappointed in you” and “Show me: now.”
The business of his soldiers is always
his business; that’s what being in a clan team is about.