wouldbedorothy: (justin pretty)
[personal profile] wouldbedorothy
Title: Make My Horse a Supermodel (*iz silly bitch*)
Author: wouldbedorothy (AHS)
Fandom: Queer As Folk US
Characters/Pairing: Daphne, Daph/Justin friendship
Prompt:
located at [livejournal.com profile] promptmesomeqaf
Genre: Fluff, Humor
Rating: PG
Word Count: 420
Disclaimer: Not my characters, or my horse.
Summary: 8th grade art class. It's tough being best friends with an art prodigy sometimes. Mostly a Daphne ficlet!

Btw, picture Daphne's horse as much worse than Marc Johns'! ;)




Make My Horse a Supermodel
by AHS


“Daph, what is that supposed to be?”

Daphne looked up from her paper to see her best friend scrunching up his nose at what she’d drawn. And biting his lip to keep from laughing. Make that ex-best friend.

“It’s a horse. That’s what we’re supposed to draw, duh.”

“I know, but… I really wasn’t sure.”

“What’s wrong with it?” she asked, indignant (even though she knew it was god-awful).

“Well… the body’s just all out of proportion. The legs are, like, sticks. And why is its eye almost in its ear?”

Yeah, seriously, what the frig was I doing there? Daphne thought as she examined her work, but that was not what she said to Justin. “That’s not its eye,” she bullshitted. “It’s… a beauty mark.”

“A beauty mark?”

“Sure. Like Cindy Crawford.”

“…On a horse?” And then he did laugh, right out loud.

“Miss Chanders, less socializing and more drawing.”

Daphne’s mouth dropped open momentarily at their art teacher’s unfair singling out of her, but she quickly said, “Yes, Mrs. Foster.” And then picked up her pencil and started sketching out more hair for the horse’s mane, before she could wing said pencil at Justin’s head. “You can never do anything wrong in her eyes. ‘Oh, Justin, you’re so talented!’ Art teacher’s pet.”

It was understandable. Daphne looked at Justin’s horse. It was good enough to be framed, hung in a museum. Shit, it looked real enough to go galloping off the paper!

At that point, Justin became sheepish. “Sorry. Yours really isn’t that bad.” He was a terrible liar. “But… if you want… I could help you fix it.”

Okay. He was her best friend again. Eighth grade moved too fast to hold grudges for long.

“No, it’s all right. I know what to do.”

She flipped her pencil over and started furiously erasing her horse’s mid-section. Then she drew in a couple of lines, closing off what was now a front end and a back end. Almost like one of those stupid two-person Halloween costumes, but with no one inside.

“Done,” she declared, setting her pencil down with a flourish.

Justin just blinked and looked a bit pained, his artist self unsettled by this development. “What…?”

“It’s harder to tell I can’t draw a good horse if I cut it in half. See?”

Mrs. Foster would hate it, no doubt. But Justin eyed her horse (pieces) again, gave in, giggled, and declared her a genius.

Yeah, she knew that, but it was always nice to hear.
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