my portfolio is why

  • brain: hey, hey friend, it looks like youve started to commit to some long-term goals
  • me: yes i am working towards a happy future
  • brain: feels bad, doesnt it
  • me:
  • brain: feels like responsibility
  • me: please-
  • brain: feels like we should destroy all our progress and run away to a new life in the woods
  • me: (softly) please
  • brain: *already burning bridges* cant hear you mate

I’m back with another rushed hack…

 Connor and Pierre Bellec would never get along.

  1.  One thinks peace with Templars is good, the other…not so much. Bellec hated that Arno tried to be with Elise, Connor would have approved and would have the marriage arranged himself! 
  2. Bellec even used Connor’s work to justify burning the French Assassins to the ground to restart everything, which would even piss him off to beyond existence. 

Therefore, he will be new dad now. 

2

Every time I bookmark an artist’s portfolio, I do my best to annotate my reasons why so I have a little bit of a backstory to share if I end up converting their work for TS4. In the case of today’s featured designer, I only had two words written down: “Yes. Good.” So! With that very eloquent introduction, here are 27 BGC prints from Society6 artist Creative Index. (Go buy her stuff, please, then come back and tell me which prints you liked the most.) Yay!

DOWNLOAD [simfileshare]

PS: To find my CC in-game more easily, just search for “patronusxcharms”!

4

Why Dominator leaving was probably the smart move.

Dedicated to my friend Kyra. Life just wouldn’t be the same without constantly making terrible parodies of shows that you love.

i was gonna wait to post all 4 at the same time but fuck it its taking me 5ever to finish so here’s the first one (kobra kid’s next) 

party poison inspired by @transboykobrakid‘s killjoy moodboards go check them out they’re super cool 

Others: 

Kobra | Ghoul | Jet

Ford dislikes the stormy nights in dimension 73. The rain is unnaturally warm and smells suspiciously like weak acid- although that might just be his tortured imagination overreacting again- but with his mugshot hanging everywhere he has to keep moving…

After doing a little research (yes, I did research!) I’m pretty sure the fur Eret wears around his shoulders is reindeer. Which would make sense, really. The art book says his design was inspired by Inuit and Sami.

(I’m currently collecting digital swatches for my portfolio, and needed this for the trapper!Merida design, hence why I have it.) The clothing his men wear is all very similar to Inuit clothing. (Eret, I love you, but you are a freakin’ peacock.) And, since the Sami are reindeer herders, that’s a fur that would be readily available to them.

The HTTYD books also mention reindeer a couple times, so I think it’s safe to assume they’re a game that’s fairly common in the movie-verse as well. 

This has been a “Song is obsessed with Eret” public service announcement. Thank you.

Let’s play the take characters from two AU’s that have nothing to do with each other and put them together game!

I’ve been wanting to draw rev!Bill and sphynx!Ford for a really long time now and i also had to paint something of quality to put in my portfolio so  _(:3 」∠)_

The Misfits

Prompt: Six students, of different stereotypes, are sentenced to Saturday detention which happens to land on a very important day for each of them. While their reasons for being there are up in the air, and they might start off on the wrong foot, they all eventually find out there’s more to each person than they thought.

A/N: Sorry this took me so long to post, been busy these last few days.

Word Count: 3,673

Other Parts: | Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 |


Part 5: The Revolutionist

Isadora Smackle was finding it hard to concentrate, and that was odd. Because normally she was the one to block out the world so easily and focus on what was in front of her. Her dark eyes seemed to keep glancing up at the boy sitting across from her. Her heart went out to all the pain and confusion and loss he must have been feeling. Smackle knew loss. It pained her everyday knowing that she would never see her older brother again. She had a younger brother, but he was far too little to remember Arian. He died when the little tyke was three and now he was nine. Time had passed, but it still didn’t make it any easier for her.

Ari was a Military man in the Navy. She had heard the stories, over and over again. He had decided to not pursue baseball as a full time career like Alex did, but chose to serve his country. And he enjoyed exploring the sea. She liked to believe that she had fell in love with Marine Biology because of him. Each time he would come home, he would bring something else back to her, weather it be shells, rocks, or trinkets. He was a natural when it came to the ocean, which is why he chose the Navy as his career. He was her inspiration and biggest influence as a big brother. He was also her hardest subject, memory and emotion.

She had some issues. Emotional ones. They developed after Ari died. She closed herself off from the world, almost becoming mute. It took her a long time to process what was going on, and a long time to speak again. It was then hard for her to trigger different emotions, because she was afriad. She threw herself into facts and less opinions. Her therapist believed it was because her parents became neglectful because of the pain and loss. She somewhat agreed, knowing that they raised a kid completely and supporting his decision to enlist himself into a career that lost him at sea. Yes. Lost. That was the worst part. The part of the story that caused her so much confusion and hurt. There was no mourning that. No closure in knowing if he had truly died. Not that it was a terrible career choice, but what were you supposed to think when your son dies.

As a ten year old, she had wishes that he would show up at home one day, walk in and say, “I’m home, sorry it took so long. I was stranded on an island and couldn’t find my way off soon enough.” Because if anyone could survive in the wilderness for that long, she beloved Ari could. She beloved he could do anything. But that’s because he was her hero.

So she could relate to Zay, but she wasn’t sure if she would open up to him about it. She should feel like it would be easy, because if he was willing to open up, she should too.

She glanced up and found him already looking at her. She blushed, because it didn’t escape her mind that he was an attractive guy. And having someone good-looking stare at her made her stomach flutter. She bit the inside of her lip as she continued to write on her paper, but the information wasn’t sticking. She wanted to talk to him more but she didn’t know how to start a conversation with him. Her form of communication was writing. And she had more to say paper to pen. Writing for the school news paper wasn’t the only thing she did. She had a website, where she wrote all kinds of different things and posted photos. She had come out of her shell in the last few years, but bring up a subject like Ari, made her shut down.

“You look like you’re deep in thought there Izzy?” Her eyes widen for a moment. “Is it okay if I call you that?” Nobody has called her Izzy in a long time. Everyone knew her as the one and only Smackle. She like how his voice called her that though.

She nodded. “That’s okay,” her voice light and sweet. “I’m just thinking. I always do that.” She giggles nervously. “It’s what a genius like me does.” Why did she say that? She looked away and to the side rolling her eyes, scolding herself.

Zay licked his lips and smiled amusingly. “You okay?”

Deciding not to trust her mouth, she nodded and smiled slightly. Her eyes finding her paper once more. What is wrong with you Smackle? He is just a nice, good-looking guy. It’s not like you haven’t talked to one before. Her mind screamed that there was something different about him though. He wasn’t like just anyone and he had already proven that in less than a thirty minute conversation with her.

She looked back up to him, and his eyes were down searching through one of her small collection of books she had stacked on the table. It was her non-school reading book that she carried with her everywhere, just in case she was in the mood for nothing else. It was in fact one of her favorite books, even if it was cheesy.

He flipped through the first few pages and smiled. “This great movie,” he said.

She actually laughed, which is something that people didn’t get the pleasure of witnessing often. “You are fan of The Notebook?”

He nodded putting his hand up, waving it off jokingly. “Yes, I am. I’ve never read the book, but the movie is definitely one of my favorites.” She giggled slightly. “Hey love never dies.” Even he chuckled at that one.

“I liked the movie too, but the book is better. Books are always better than the movie, but I believe that Rachel McAdams and Ryan Gosling did the movie justice. But I cried when reading the book, a little less when I watched the film. I guess words just speak to me.” She remembered the first time ever reading the story. It happened every time she read a book. She wished she could wipe her memory and read the story over again and so she could anticipate what was going to happen next. The first time was always her favorite time.

“It’s how the author writes the words though. How they write in the characters that you can’t help but fall in love with and something tragic happens to them, or something great happens and they hit you right in the feels.” He pounded his heart.

She glanced down at the other few books in her bag. “I like to read stories that go in depth. That sometimes people don’t understand fully, but you can make sense of in your own way.” She bit her bottom lip, taking a deep breath.

“You’re one of those philosophical people, aren’t you?”

She leaned back in her seat, crossing her arms. “I wouldn’t say talking with people face-to-face, but maybe in my writing. Being able to write down the words to say makes it easier to express my thoughts.”

“You find it hard to express your thoughts face-to-face?” He seemed to have a hard time believe if her. She didn’t blame him. She herself was complicated to understand. The desperate want to express her feelings in person but afraid of attached and losing them.

She was thinking about how to comment to that, but the words never came to her. Hearing the sound of a door opening to close, drifted her away from thinking. Mrs. Knows had appeared from her office. Smackle had looked around the room realizing she and Zay were the only ones sitting at the desks.“Where are the others?”

The genius’s eyes widened, and just as she was about to open her mouth, the boy reached over to grab her hand stopping her from speaking and her heart nearly dropped as well. As he spoke, she didn’t hear a word he had said, because she was taking in the feeling of his calloused hand on hers.


He watched her as she played the instrument with such grace and eloquence. Farkle marveled at how beautiful she was as she moved side to side while strumming. Her expression was soft when the sound carried smoothly, and then full of intensity when there was a sharp cord produced. She was great too. The song was so well played, he found himself wanting to move with her. On the ending note he smiled opening his eyes once more to find her staring at him with a hopeful look.

“I could listen to you play all day long,” he stated. “There’s no way they can’t give you that scholarship.”

Riley smiled and the room instantly lit up. “You think so?” He nodded in confirmation. “I think that was the best I’ve played in a while. For the last few weeks, I’ve been struggling a bit.”

“You’re probably just feeling the pressure, and the concert is in less than eight hours now,” he stated glancing at his watch. She immediately showed a look of panic and he approached her placing each hand on the side of her arms. “But you are going to do great! If you get nervous, just look for me.”

She took a breath feeling slightly relived, but still shared a nerved gazed. “Thank you, Farkle. Thank you for opening the band room. I’m sorry that you had to pick the lock to get in.”

He shrugged. “It’s nothing. Not like it’s my first time picking a lock.” He scratched the back of his neck.

Studying his face, she crossed her arms. “Is that why you’re in here?”

“Yeah, I left my portfolio in the media room, and Mrs. Harris had the door locked, and I didn’t realize she was coming back to her room, and I needed to get that folder, so I picked the lock. I also didn’t know that my portfolio had landed on her desk, with the computer file open to the midterm grade book.” His shoulders dropped. “Mr. Casey who was next door in the yearbook room walked in from his office and found me standing over the desk. I had tried to explain that I wasn’t in there to look at the grades, only to get my portfolio that was super important for me to have this weekend, but like all teachers, he had to follow protocol and all that, only because it was mid-term grades that were at stake. I could have been expelled for that, but he only gave me Saturday detention, because he could get in trouble if he only gave me after school detention.”

He sat down one of the chairs and she took a seat right next to him, placing the violin to the side carefully. “I guess we’re both in here on default.” He agreed, lightly bumping her leg. “I wonder why the others are in here.”

Farkle smirked. “Well Zay is in the same boat as us. He’s in here only because he was the subject of why Lucas broke Blaine’s nose.”

Her mouth dropped. “That’s why Blaine was crying in the office with an ice pack stuck to his face?” She tried not to laugh, but he could tell it was difficult for her. “Yikes, what he say to make Lucas deck him? Aren’t they supposed to be friends?”

“I heard he said something about Zay’s parents. Asking him in a vulgar manner of why he was living with Lucas, or making up scenarios of their own. Sage White told me she was ready to tackle him herself. It was terrible. Apparently Lucas told him to shut up first, and Zay held him back, but he just kept going on and Lucas leaned in and decked him.” He shook his head in disbelief. Lucas gets more flack as being labeled as a conceited, egotistical guy, but Farkle couldn’t see it. Especially after hearing what he did. He defended his best friend, his brother. People who are full of themselves wouldn’t put themselves into situations like that.

“Why all the fuss about Zay living with Lucas? In this day and age, it’s common to have interracial families, and the LBGTQ is rising. If that’s being accepted by people, which is a huge deal, then why pick on a guy who is living with Lucas for reasons that don’t concern us? Zay could be dealing with something far worse than we realize.”

He didn’t understand what was wrong, but whatever Zay was going through, he hid it well. It was hidden all behind a comedic smile. “We should head back to the library. Mrs. Knows has probably confronted Smackle about us.”

She nodded. “You’re probably right. Why do you think Smackle is here?”

“You know, that’s a good question. I have absolutely no idea.” He really didn’t. They didn’t associate with each other. People think they would. Both smart, popular, but she was more so than him. He didn’t have a problem with her. In fact, they used to be close as kids, but after time, their parents turned them against one another, and they started competing in everything.

Then he stopped caring about what his parents think, and he began to let her win. Farkle admitted he was still smarter to himself, but that was because he purposely slacked off. He was tired of exceeding his parents expectations. It’s what drove a wedge in their relationship.

He and Riley stood up. “You don’t like each other do you?”

“It’s not that. I mean I don’t have a problem with her. I never have, but her parents and my parents were persistent on us competing against each other, in everything. She got into it more so in middle school, though she had a drive to. I stopped caring what my parents thought when they were going through that terrible phase of their relationship.” He shook his head. “I guess Smackle just believes we’re still on bad terms with one another.”

They moved to leave the band room, locking it back up in the process. “Are we on good terms?” She asked, with a hopeful expression etched upon her face. How could he say no to her? Not like he was going to, but when she gave him that look, he had the desire to give her everything she ever wanted.

Of course they were on good terms, but he din’t want to come off as just friendly, because he was not about to put himself in the friend zone. So he let his mind wander for a minute, before reaching down to lightly squeeze her hand. “I think we’re on more than just good terms.”

She smiled brightly and Farkle swore he saw the universe in her eyes.


Maya chided herself for being way too judgmental. She took back everything she ever said about anyone, because it seemed as if she was looking at the world in a completely different way. Now how could talking to this guy make her believe this? Because he was the complete opposite of who she thought he was, and that scared her. Why? Because not only did his physical appearance have an effect on her, she was beginning to see his personality show, and she like it.

He was easy to talk to and he surprised her when he shared a personal experience with her that most people probably wouldn’t talk about. She had the sudden want to punch Grace in the face, knowing that Lucas being a guy, could get in trouble for laying a hand on a her, but that didn’t mean Maya couldn’t. How could someone date a person for a whole year, sleep with them, then tell them they aren’t attractive enough or good enough to date them anymore, especially in front of people. Maya honestly didn’t believe Lucas wasn’t attractive enough, because … she looked to the side over at him as they were walking down the hall … he was far from the opposite.

They approached the door to the art room, and they entered. She could smell paint and oils and felt completely at home. She hadn’t decided until now if she was going to create. The essay was deemed as a stupid assignment. What did she know?

Her thoughts were interrupted as her companion began to speak. “So, you gonna paint anything?” He asked, leaning to the side of the door frame, crossing his arms.

She shook her head. “I don’t need to paint anything to write the essay, because I’m not going to tell her who I am. Because the me now, isn’t the me I want to be. She wants us to write the essay to laugh at us. In her mind, she sees us how she wants to see us. But I’m going to tell her about the person I want to be.”

“Which is?” Lucas raised his eyebrows, interested in what she had to say.

Maya turned to face him completely. “I want to be a good person, a good friend, eventually a good girlfriend, wife, and mother. I want to have a different fate then my own mother, and get over the fact that my father left, because I’m grateful to have a second father in Mr. Matthews. I want to graduate with decent grades, go to school and get an education, and be the first in my family to finish a bachelors program in college.” She looked down at the ground, studying the dots creating different shapes, before glancing back up at him, looking him in the eye. “And most of all, if I could do anything continuously throughout my entire life is this: I want to be the change I want to see in the world. I’m not just going around buildings to deface them, I’m trying to get the word out, because maybe someone will listen. They don’t have to know who I am in order to change the way they see the world, and if they already agree with me, then maybe my rebelliousness will drive them to create and make a difference of their own. Because all it takes is just one person to speak, and if that pins me as a rebel who only vandalizes things, who cares.” She shrugs. “I’m not going to stop voicing my opinion, just because a couple people think my work is tagged for no reason, because that’s not how others see it.”

The expression he held was complete and udder admiration. But her rant was not over just yet. “Every time I tag a building, it’s in the middle of the night, and when I’m done, and it’s morning, and people are starting to walk by, I see people stare at it. Not only because it’s new, but they are deciding whether or not they should agree or disagree with what I did. Some are prudes who, more in line with the rules, but I’ve seen a lot of open minded people. One person who was standing right by me as I was watching everyone, said ‘who ever did this, should know that they are inspiring and they should continue to make the world see what’s real.’ That’s what any artist strives to do. That’s how they want people to respond. That person. They knew it was me. They could still see the faded paint on my hands, and they told me to keep up the good work. I had never felt more at peace with what I was doing until that moment.”

He stared at her for a while, as she anticipated his next comment. “I don’t think I’ve ever been more impressed by anyone than I been in this exact moment.” He shook his head in disbelief. “You’re a revolutionist, in not just politics, but in other subjects too. Are you the artist who created that huge sign in Washington Square Park?” She nodded. “And the one on Grove Street in Greenwich Village?” Another nod. “You’re art is a pattern. There’s also that cafe on Perry and 7th.”

“That’s the only one that wasn’t vandalism.” She added. “Riley’s mom, Topanga owns that cafe. I created a piece for her, and I added a little bit of my own spin to it. There are a few in Chelsea, a few in Battery Park, one on the NYU Campus, a couple underground, and I also did a small one at the theatre in Central Park. All of them have similar messages, and some are answers to other peoples pieces.”

He smiled softly and her stomach began to twist and turn excitedly. She gulped when he slowly began walking towards her. “Never stop looking at the world the way you do. You are inspiring, and you make me want to see everything through your eyes. I was wrong about you. You’re a pretty incredible person.”

She bit her bottom lip, and dared herself not to beam at him, but she couldn’t help it. “Thank you, Lucas. You’re a pretty amazing yourself.”

They stared at each other for a minute and she had the slight temptation to stand on her tippy toes to kiss him, but she held herself back. After there had been enough silence, he coughed before asking. “So, what do you think the others are doing?”

“Smackle is probably still in the library, Farkle and Zay I’m not entirely sure, but Riley definitely went to the band room. She has a super important concert coming up—” she blinked and her heart nearly stopped for a moment. “Quick, what’s today’s date?”

He narrowed his eyebrows, thinking before he said, “December 15.”

“Shit,” she stated. “I have to find Riley.” No wonder her best friend was so pissed. No wonder she looked hurt earlier. Maya could blame her best friend for probably wanting to kill her. Her feet left the room before she could tell Lucas what was going on.


A/N: I feel like I’ve been getting into depth for the Lucaya scenes, which is interesting for me. I think I’m going to have two more parts, and then I’m done with this story.


Preview to next chapter:

Riley heard her voice before she could even see her, and she wished she could tell her to be quiet. “Riley,” Maya said, appearing from the door, with Lucas at her tail. “I need to talk to you.” The blonde stopped dead in her tracks as she saw Mrs. Knows staring with a stern look on her face. They were in so much trouble.


Tag list: @hazel-the-hippo