#I was struck with the strong need to draw and upload again

[royaltea000]

Adult Knights Templar who’s corpse I’ve burnt and resurrected in the wrong order

TeuTemp smut doodles - https://freeimage.host/i/JsMuH7e

[skulljackxiii]

Dramaronpa: Star Struck-Lindsay

*stares awkwardly with bright lit face*

"......."

"..........."

"................"

*continues staring* "....mmmmm"

*girl slightly tilts head in confusion, but gives off a warm gentle smile*

*whispers to self*..."Come on, COME ON!!! Think of something to say"

"........................."

*whispers to self* "I can't do it, especially her without staring and having to slightly bend over to hide something from showing."

(I mean can anyone, honest to GOD, blame me from doing that. I am a healthy young man with needs after all. But...then again if we're talking about this girl, I'm sure everyone can understand what I'm going through and show me empathy rather than pity. I mean she has the assets given by God to draw attention and be showered with love. I'm living proof of that since I have a lot of her merch....for research purposes for my videos of course.)

(Lindsay, the girl that set the standards when it came to beauty. She had the body that most influencers and models nowadays could either only dreamed of having or get when they try turning themselves into life-sized Frankenstein Barbie Dolls.)

(Obviously with her body alone, she gathered a massive army of fans that gawked and howled at every action she did. Interesting enough, though it was her figure that drew them in at the start, but what made them stay and became loyal to her was her positive energy that radiated from her.)

(Her massive fanbase at the start just lusted for her, like any other model or porn-star, but something came out that made them more sincerely supportive the longer they watched her. In strong contrast of her body, she had a face of a saint that radiated such innocence and purity that brought bliss to everyone and her upbeat attitude illuminated such fun and child-like energy that it summoned the fanbase's inner protective nature to shield her from any harm.)

(When you think about it, it's truly amazing she could accomplish what she did and she definitely deserves to be called an Ultimate. She moved and lived in Japan most of her life and a occupation of a Gravure Idol should only be limited to that area, but she was able to branch out  to other countries and now has a loyal fanbase across the world. All her magazines, photos, and DVDs would fly off the shelves instantly and millions would be made in profit.)

(Though there was a time where I found it suspicious that she had so many different connections and that she had enough financial backing that allowed her to do so much that she did.)

(I remember in the past, there were a couple videos that I did that covered a lot of her sales and some suspicious intel behind them. But as soon as I tried uploading them, it would be instantly taken down for some bullshit reason. It wasn't just me but all other content creator and news sites had their content removed.)

(It looked like that any kind of criticism or negative outlook towards her would be immediately removed before reaching the masses. After finding the patterns, I became more invested and tried to dive deeper, so I had my sources look into her past to discover something new. But that didn't happen...)

(It wasn't like that there wasn't anything to find, but it was more like that I couldn't. My sources told me that any record of Lindsay's life before becoming famous, was either hidden or blocked off. The only things that I could go off of was her interviews and how she talked bits about her previous life on tv.)

(She said herself in those interviews that she looked nothing like she did now. In her words, she said that from her early childhood up until middle school, she was never seen in the beauty category, in fact she was someone that the majority would vote for having a face that would fade in the background. But she did have the ability to still draw in people due to her radiant personality. She was someone who didn't really care about how she looked, all she ever cared about was having fun with her BFF. But one day, due to some circumstances, she  needed to change herself so she could stay by her best friend's side.)

(When I heard this, I couldn't believe the story of a plain Jane transforming into a National level Beauty, some part of me thought that the PR team made that shit up so she could appear more relatable. Though due to who I am I had to take it as face value. But the one thing that intrigued me that could give me the answers that I was looking for would be looking into this so called "BFF" of hers.)

(When I went digging there wasn't much to find either, until I got a name. The name alone connected everything that was related to Lindsay and explained all the suspicious activities surrounding her career.)

(Her BFF was a fellow Ultimate on this island that holds a very high position in the World. I scrapped everything that had anything to do with her because going against her friend would mean that my personal, private, professional, financial, etc. life would be eviscerated with a snap of her fingers.)

(Just thinking her name sent such strong shivers down my spine that I need a chiropractor to fix my back for years to come. in the end, I hardly got anything from all the time I spent researching, but there was some good news that came from this. I at least know that Lindsay is the sexy/innocent soul that she appears to be.)

"................"

*whispers to self*"I hate myself so much T_T."

*innocent girl continues to smile and stare*

*innocent girl sees him being uncomfortable and started asking him about his interests and thoughts*

*both started to talk slowly, yet comfortably*

"Really?! I didn't know that...mmmm. I'll give it a try."

"That sounds awesome! But isn't that kinda shitty what he did?"

*both started to talk faster and more excitedly*

"Wait, WHAT!! Why?! Whyy did they die, there's just no way!!"

"Mmmm, now that's sexy, I'd love to see that~!"

"Hell Yeah!! That's the only way to do it!!"

*after talking awhile, both felt happy and waved at each other goodbye*

"Hehe~"

(That was awesome! You're the FUCKING MANN!! I got close to someone like her and establish a good relationship. I wonder....Is this what it means to be popular?!...Man, Cody you truly grew up~)

(....Buutttt I was kinda surprised of what she was like in person. She is very upbeat and bright like she appears to be. But I honestly thought that she'd be someone more delicate and sophisticated given how well-kept her looks are...)

(...But I didn't know that she'd be such a massive Weeb.)

(This entire time we talked about all sorts of manga and anime that was currently and previously circulating  around that world and the impact the field holds now.)

(I wasn't someone that knew a lot about comics or graphic novels since I was only ever focused on gossip and my viewership, so I obviously didn't know shit about anything related to anime or manga.)

(But when I did, she started to recommended me stuff  like crazy and tried to entice to get more into it. She even started doing poses and screaming special moves from famous manga to give me a better experience.)

(It was totally weird, but seeing her be more tomboyish and having fun doing it, I became really invested.)

(Mmmmm, I wonder if I should include more stuff like this to increase my audience?)

(Well, whatever...I got a good thing going on with her and I'm sure we're gonna be good friends on the island. I mean, hell...she even gave me some nicknames too~)

(But I do wonder though...)

(What does Shota or Chibi mean?)

(.........)

(Whatever, it must mean something significant. Maybe it means someone cool or awesome like that....Yeah~ it has to be it!)

[keitthen]

- the dorm heads with a significant other who boops their nose and runs away soon after.

─ first work for twst! i hope you like these!

this is a really cute idea, and please note that the reader is gender-neutral. please enjoy!

He's flustered and dumbstruck. Oh my, just what did you do?

He's not very used to acts of affection, so he is extremely flustered when you are affectionate with him.

When he heard you call out to him, he thought that you needed something, but is extremely surprised when you boop his nose and run away.

It takes a while for it to sink in, but he'll grow as red as the roses he grows, and will definitely yell after you.

It's quite endearing, and the next time you find him, he'll pout cutely at you and boop your nose back.

It's just really adorable.

“Riddle!” he hears your voice call out to him. He was just thinking of coming to you, but you appeared in front of him. Not wanting to waste the chance of spending time with you, he turns around, wondering what you required of him, and opens his mouth to ask you whether you would like to spend some time with him, when he finds your face right in front of his. He is very startled at the sight, and he moves back in surprise, and you take it as the chance to carry out your task. Quickly booping him on the nose, you let out a string of giggles and run away from him. He stands there, frozen in his place, mouth open, when realization finally hits him. His face grows scarlet, and you hear his scream even down the corner of the hallway, laughing even harder.

“(NAME)! COME BACK HERE!”

He thinks of it as a game.

When you first do it, he's visibly confused, but comes to the conclusion that it's just a way you show your affection.

The next time you try to do it, he'll do it to you.

The few times you do boop his nose before he can boop yours, he will chase you around the dorm, playing around with you.

He finds it really adorable, and gives you a kiss after it.

“Leona~” you sing to yourself. Quietly tip toeing, you make your way to the sleeping dorm leader, who's currently having his nap while basking in the gentle sunshine. He looks so peaceful, and you almost don't want to do this, but the word to press emphasis here is almost. You are going to do it, and you will succeed. His face comes closer and clearer in view, and your grin grows wider. Feeling a shadow blocking his sun, the boy stirs from his slumber, and you take it as your opportunity to strike. Quickly booping his nose, you make a run for it, with laughter echoing from behind you and footsteps following soon after. His amusement is contagious, infecting you with his liveliness, as you begin to laugh along with him. Strong arms wrap around your waist, and pull you closer as he boops you in revenge, and your laughter grows. Smiling gently at your enthusiasm, he places a soft kiss on the crown of your head, feeling you relax in his embrace.

Azul is very confused.

Is this a good thing? Were you teasing him? What are you doing?

He just doesn't get it. So, he asks you about it.

When you tell him that it's a way people show affection to each other, he grows very flustered, but is also very thankful.

Does it back to you when you aren't paying attention, and gives you a sweet smile.

Azul was working and looking at a few brand new contracts that the tweels had gotten him, and being completely unaware of your presence. You had been waiting for him to notice you, but it had already been half an hour and he had not yet glanced even once in your way. Puffing your cheeks out, you had enough of him being drowned in his work that he didn't even notice you, and decided to take matters into your own hands. You walked up to his desk, and stood in front of it. “Azul,” you called. The third year looked at you surprised at your sudden appearance (actually, not-so-sudden, it's just that he didn't notice), when you leaned in. His face grew red at the close proximity, screwing his eyes shut, when he felt a light touch on his nose. His eyes open, and he finds you grinning at him. “What are you doing, (Name)?” he asks you, confused. Hearing you chuckle it grows even more. “It's a way to show affection~,” you tell him. Oh, he thinks. He grows red again, but this time he gives you a sincere and loving smile.

Kalim doesn't understand it at first, but giggles soon after.

How could he not, when you're being so adorable?

He immediately boops your nose back, giggling right after. Jamil only sighs at your cute behaviour, but you're blinded by Kalim's smile because it's so bright and brilliant.

It becomes a regular thing between the two of you. He does it to you all the time, so do you.

The two of you were studying together in the Scarabia dorm (more like you tutoring Kalim in the various subjects Night Raven College specialised in), when the thought struck you. You look at him, and seeing Kalim being engrossed in his studies made him only more adorable in your eyes. His tongue stuck out the corner of his mouth, as he concentrated on solving the problems and questions you had given him. Waiting patiently until he had finished his worksheet, you sat in your seat, watching him with a mischievous smile. He turned towards you, and handed you his worksheet to evaluate. Quickly finishing the corrections, you called him. “Kalim,” you began. “Please come here.” The dorm leader, although confused, came towards you as you had requested, when you did it. His ruby eyes widened in momentary surprise, after which he began to laugh. Finding his happiness infectious, you laughed along with him, when you felt him boop your nose. “I've got you too!” he giggled, pulling you into a bear hug.

Vil is taken aback, but then immediately asks you what you were doing.

When you tell him, he smiles at you.

Then while you're blinded by his beauty, boops you back!

Secretly films you doing it, and when he uploaded it to Magicam, he started a trend for couples, for which he gave you a soft and sweet kiss.

Now does it on a regular basis because he finds your laughter adorable.

“Vil~” you draw out the syllables of his name, promptly taking his attention away from whatever you were doing. “What does my dear potato require of me today?” he gives you a lazy grin. You only smile with a glint in your eyes, one that he immediately picks upon, having seen it in the tweels' eyes many times when they were upto something mischievous. He slowly backs away, only resulting in you widening your grin. “Potato, what are you doing?” he asks you, fake fear in his expression while his voice holds an undertone of his own mischief. Giving him a bright grin, you quickly lean in, and boop his nose. He's taken aback, not expecting it, but quickly regains his composure. When he sees you running away, he chases after you, laughing along. And when he catches you, he boops your nose in retaliation, reveling in your joy as he places a few kisses all over your face.

Now, Idia is a otaku, so he probably knows it.

But doesn't expect anyone to do it to him, other than Ortho.

So when you do boop his nose, he's very surprised.

But quickly recovers, and then blushes and turns away from you. Sometimes, he does boop you back, but most of the time he just pulls you into a hug to hide his blazing face.

Probably wonders how he can surprise you with nose boops, and does it at the most random of times.

But he really loves it though.

You watch as Idia clicks away on the keyboard, random numbers appearing on the screen that don't make sense to you, but definitely do make sense to him. “Idia~” you say, momentarily drawing his attention away from the screen. He looks at you, his eyebrow quirked up, silently questioning you. “Pay attention to me~” you whine, to which he just shakes his head. “Give me a few minutes,” is all he says to you. You wait for him to finish, and when he finally shuts down the computer, you throw your hands around him, pulling him into a tight hug. “What are you doing, (Name)?” he asks you. “Hugging you,” comes your reply. Exhaling softly, he pulls you closer, when the idea hits you. “Idia,” you call. The boy looks at you, when you boop his nose. He sits there, silent as one can be, after which his face explodes into a bright red. “H-hey! G-give me a-a w-warning befor-re you d-do that!” he exclaims. You laugh at him, and he buries his face in the crook of your neck, only pulling your frame as close as he can, giving you a thankful squeeze.

If you thought the others were confused, he's even more so!

Was his little human trying to tell him something? Did they need something? Did they require affection? What's happening?

The confusion is visible as day on his face, and it makes you laugh, which confuses him even more.

After you calm down, you explain to him that it's a way of showing affection, he finally understands.

Then immediately boops you back, sending you into another fit of laughter, this time with him joining you.

Does it whenever he finds you especially cute, and Lilia always gushes over it, while Sebek always yells at you when you boop him back.

Now wonders if there are other ways that his little human shows affection with.

“Malleus!” he hears your voice from behind him. He turns around, watching as you run up to him, and place your hands on your knees as you catch your breath. “Do you have something that you require, child of man?” he questions you. Seeing you nod, he wonders what it could be that you require from him. You gesture at him, asking him to bend down to your height, seeing as he was much taller than you were. The fae lowers himself to your height, as Sebek and Silver gasp and Lilia laughs in the background. You look at him seriously, and just as he was about to ask you about what you had needed, you boop his nose. He just stands there, and when you immediately run away, he looks towards Lilia, who's bent in half laughing until there's tears in his eyes. He tilts his head in confusion, which Lilia catches onto, and gestures him to go after you. He quickly catches up to you, and pulls you into his larger frame. “What is that, child of man?” he asks you. “It's a little way to show affection!” you reply. He softens at the answer, lifting you up with much ease, and pulls you as close as possible. He leans in, and then, boops you back! You're taken aback, but then burst into laughter, which he soon joins. Keeping a tight hold on you, he walks back to the Diasomnia dorm, your mixed laughter echoing in the hallway.

─ and that's it! thank you for reading, and requests are open, even if I will be a little slow in completing them!

love,

ria.

[eryiss]

Ship: Freed x Laxus

Rating: Teen

Prompt: Two Bros Chilling in A Hot Tub/Lightning Struck

Summary: Freed knew he had a lot to learn about being a professional wizard, and when he was paired up with Laxus for a mission he expected to learn a lot. He didn't expect to spend a day with him in a hot tub, and he certainly didn't expect to get an entirely unrelated education about life and about love.

Notes: Hello everyone, happy Fraxus Week. For the two bonus days, I've murged the prmopts together to make a two-shot. The second chapter will be uploaded on July the 22nd. I hope you all enjoy it, and head over to @fuckyeahfraxus to see all the other content for the event.

Links: Chapter Two ||| Event Masterlist ||| Archive of Our Own, Fanfiction

Chapter One

Year: X782

Location: Magnolia, Fiore

Professional Wizardry was still new to Freed. He hadn't wandered into the profession without the expectation that he'd be forced to do things that previously would have been unthinkable, or that his life wouldn't change entirely the moment he had joined a guild, but he felt like he was learning a new aspect to his profession every day. His expectations of the job and the reality of the job was almost entirely different, and Freed found himself enjoying the challenge.

He'd thought he'd be on missions near constantly. He'd go to some place in Fiore, use his magic to fight off a monster or dark wizard, and get paid for it. He hadn't expected there to be a community attached to it, that they'd be such a rigid tier system of missions, and how missions could be anything from finding a lost item, to being on a team attempting to disband a cult. There was so much more, and it was all fascinating.

After his eighteenth birthday three months prior, the jobs that he was allowed to accept had greatly opened up. They were more difficult, presented him with a greater threat to his life, and he was relishing the challenge. He could have gone on those missions earlier, but he much preferred working alone. While he was accepting that being in Fairy Tail meant there was a certain level of comradery with fellow guildmates, and that with that comradery there also came obligations, he didn't see the point in splitting his finances with others while he was powerful enough to perform these missions on his own and take home all the money himself.

The exception to this was Laxus Dreyar.

Master Makarov had approached Freed on his birthday with a proposition. He was worried for his grandson, wanted someone to look after him, and wondered if Freed would mind occasionally attending missions with him. He claimed that, while officially the money would be split between them, Makarov himself would make up the difference for Freed so that he would be paid in full. Freed had agreed, and that had been that.

Up until that afternoon, Freed had not gone on any missions with Laxus. They'd hardly spoken, even with Makarov's assurances that they'd get along. Freed would only be on certain missions and that afternoon's mission was apparently one of them. Makarov told Laxus Freed needed training in more advanced missions, and that he should be the one to do it. Laxus hadn't argued.

Somehow, while attending to a supposedly A-Class mission, they found themselves in Magnolia's hot spring and spa resort.

It was surveillance, so the mission stated. The Rune Army themselves had place the job, stating that they believed that members of a potential dark guild were using the site to host meetings and plan attacks. The resort had been trying to get rid of the suspects but couldn't do so without putting their staff in danger, and having an army presence suddenly appearing would tip the dark guild off and give them time to hide all evidence. The Rune Army wanted mages from Magnolia who could plausibly be in the spa for leisure time, but could also defend themselves from attack, to watch them for suspicious activity. Freed had a feeling that Laxus had taken the job to have a day relaxing in a spa, rather than because he felt the Rune Army needed the help.

None of this would have been a problem for Freed – he'd long since accepted that what constituted a job was a wide array of things – if it weren't for the elephant in the room. Or to be more precise, the Adonis wearing nothing but swimming trunks in the room.

Freed was a professional, but he was also eighteen years old and in the presence of an undeniably handsome man. Nobody, no matter their opinions on Laxus, would state that he was anything but sexy. Tall, blonde, square jawed, barrel chested with a scar over his eye and a tattoo over his pecs. His abs looked to be cut from steel and his legs comparable to tree trunks and, well, Freed was only human. Laxus was distracting.

"So," Laxus suddenly spoke as he slung a towel over his shoulder. "I don't exactly know what Gramps wants you to learn from this, but I'll try and teach ya some shit. Surveillance rule number one: fit in with yer surroundings. You seem pretty good at that."

It was only a moment, but Laxus' assessing gaze over Freed's body was exhilarating. But unprofessional.

Laxus didn't seem to notice, and instead started to walk out of the locker room they'd both changed in, and towards the area where they were meant to be watching. Freed followed, making sure to look straight ahead, rather than give into temptation to check out the man's back and his ass, and it wasn't a difficult task. While Freed had no qualms admitting his attraction to the blonde, he knew where his focus needed to be put. The mission was important, not his hormonal desire for his guildmate.

"That's the door we need to watch," Laxus said as he tilted his head to the door. Freed knew that of course, but Laxus was speaking again before he could say anything. "Pretty open room, lots of vantage points. Where should we go?"

Ah, it was a test then. Good, a worthy distraction and hopefully it would nip any ideas that Freed was in some way Laxus' inferior in the bud. Freed looked around the room quickly, glanced towards the door that they needed to keep in their sights, and quickly made a plan of how the rest of the day would go. Strategy was his strong suit.

"The hot tub," He said firmly. "At least for now."

"Why only for now?" Laxus asked. There was no condensation in his tone, he was simply asking for Freed's reasoning.

"Staying in the same place throughout the afternoon would be suspicious. We know who the suspects are, but that doesn't mean they're the only people involved, so we need to look like regular customers constantly," Freed explained, speaking quietly as they walked further into the room. "As we've only just got here, it makes sense for us to use a facility instantly. Going to sit by the pool or at the juice bar would be odd, at least for now. The massage tables and spa treatments are too distracting, but the hot tub allows us to sit and watch without anyone questioning it. It'll give us the lay of the land without drawing any attention on us."

"And we both have to do it?" Laxus probed. "Wouldn't it make more sense to split up and cover more ground.

"Later," Freed dismissed. "We came in together; we'll need to do things at the same time at least once in a while. As I said, the treatments are distracting and as such we should do them one at a time rather than simultaneously. If we spend the whole day apart after we've arrived together, it'll raise suspicion. The hot tub is a good vantage point, and so a good way to be seen together while not losing an advantage."

Laxus thought for a moment, before nodding, clasping Freed on the bare shoulder, and giving him the smallest of grins. "Yer good at this."

"Of course I am," Freed retorted, and that seemed to make Laxus grin wider.

They walked towards the hot tub, which was at the back wall, attached to the main pool. As it was a Tuesday afternoon, only a few people were loitering around the resort and the hot tub was empty. Freed placed his towel on the handle provided and walked into the hot tub, soaking his entire body sans his head in the hot, bubbling water. His muscles relaxed instantly, and he felt himself slinking down ever so slightly.

"You ain't here to relax," Laxus said in a voice almost teasing as he climbed the stairs into the tub. "Eyes on the mission, remember."

Freed went to point out that, given Laxus was looking at him rather than at the door, he was just as distracted. But Laxus chose that moment to sit down, submerging his chest in water and spreading his arms wide. His left hand was close to Freed's shoulder, and Freed felt that it was an act of great resilience that he didn't give into base urges and watch Laxus as he adjusted to his relaxed, wet – very very wet – state.

"I will if you will," Freed eventually said back, looking towards the door. He missed how Laxus' gaze lingered on his body just a little too long.

They fell into silence, and Freed made a genuine effort to keep his gaze away from the man who shared the hot tub with him. He truly hadn't thought this through. He hadn't realised that, as good as Laxus looked from afar, he looked better up-close. Maybe he should have denied the request to join the mission. And maybe he should have worn a looser swimsuit…

"So," Laxus said after a while, looking up at the ceiling for a moment to crack his neck. "How much is the old man paying you to spy on me?"

Freed halted, and removed his eyes from the door and looked towards Laxus. His face only, of course. "Excuse me."

"Rule two, you gotta trust the guys you're working with. So don't bullshit yer team members," Laxus said with a little grin. "Answer the question."

"For every mission that I do with you, he'll cover all the money you take from it, so I'm fully paid," Freed explained. He saw no point in lying.

"Guess we're gonna be doing some well-paying missions together then, if we wanna bleed the old bastard dry," Laxus smirked, and it was an oddly alluring look on the man. Freed looked away from it, and towards the door again. "You gonna tell him that I'm onto him?"

"I'd rather keep the deal up, I can get good money doing this," Freed shrugged, and he saw Laxus grinning a little from the corner of his eye. He tried not to pay attention to the expression, and instead focused on a man who could fit the description of a suspect. The man walked past the door, but that didn't mean he wasn't who they were looking for. "Why did you agree to this if you knew your grandfather wants reports on you?"

"Because it's gonna happen anyway, might as well accept it," Laxus shrugged. "I knew he was gonna get someone to do it, kinda glad that it's you."

"Why?"

"Because yer interesting," Laxus said, looking up at the ceiling again and closing his eyes as he lowered himself deeper into the water. Freed's gaze flickered low on the man's abs for a moment before looking to the door again. "We get a hell of a lot of mages joining Fairy Tail. Lots of people who think they're tough shit and wanna become the next powerhouse. Yer the only person I think whose got a chance of actually doing it."

The compliment was flattering. Laxus had something of a reputation for being generally rude and selfish, and either they were exaggerated or Laxus was making an exception. Freed felt it was a combination of both, but he accepted the compliment without complaint.

"You know my magic?" He asked.

"I've been keeping tabs on you since you came here, yer interesting," Laxus nodded, wading a hand through the water absently and sending ripples through the bubbles. "People give the darker magics a lot of shit. They're idiots. You can kick ass, and you're not bad to be around. Pretty much the opposite of a Fairy Tail mage right now."

"Does that opinion extend to you?"

"What d'you think?" Laxus asked with a cocky expression that Freed found himself enjoying.

"I wouldn't be here if I thought you weak."

"Good."

They fell into a silence, with the bubbling water warming Freed and making his muscles loose and relaxed. He kept a steady gaze on the door, making sure to avert his eyes when someone walked into the room, so his staring wasn't too obvious. It was a worthy distraction, and one well needed now that Laxus had apparently been watching him for all of eight months. That, combined with the fact that Laxus was wearing swimming trunks and was less than five feet away, could all become rather an issue if Freed didn't focus on anything else.

"Okay, your turn to relax now," Laxus said, cutting through Freed's thoughts. His voice was a little more relaxed. "You can't stay lookin' at the door all day. You'll get a crick in the neck."

"I'll be fine," Freed dismissed.

"Doesn't matter," Laxus stated, shifting slightly to get closer to Freed. It was to get a better view of the door, but the body heat that rivalled the warmth of the water was a noticeable feeling and Freed tensed. "Rule Three: lean on yer teammates. Sometimes you'll need to slack off, that ain't something to fight against. So long as someone in the team is on full alert it isn't too bad a problem. So sit back, close yer eyes, and let me take over for a while."

Freed was hesitant, but Laxus was clearly taking over keeping his gaze on the door, and Freed eventually found himself sliding down to further cover his body in water, and closed his eyes as relaxation flowed through him.

When his mind began to slip, Freed found himself thinking that Laxus was actually rather helpful. Freed wasn't quite so arrogant to think he knew everything about wizarding work, and an S-Class mage would have things to teach. Laxus especially would be useful to learn from, given their apparently similarities in working styles. Freed would need to learn how to work in a team, even if it wasn't fond of the idea, and Laxus might know how to offer actual advice rather than pointless mantras like 'your team should be your family' and other nonsense he'd heard from Fairy Tail. Without lying about why he was there, his team-ups with Laxus might be mutually beneficial.

Perhaps relaxing wasn't too bad an idea, either. Freed's mind had been somewhat consumed by his work. Finding a place to live as a seventeen-year-old had been difficult, and he'd put in a lot of effort in getting rent on time. But now he got better paying jobs, that urgency could fall away a little.

With a bit of effort, he tried to push the fact he was on a job to the back of his mind.

Once this whole thing was dealt with, maybe he would invest in a pass for the resort. In his preliminary research for the mission, he'd heard good things about the facilities, and even though he'd only been in the hot tub as of yet, he felt inclined to agree.

Though perhaps Laxus' company was partially to blame for his mood.

Fairy Tail had sometimes felt like a lonely place. Their focus on friendship, family and their revoltingly sentimental ideas about goodness were nice in principle, but when you were on the outside looking in it could get under your skin. Freed knew he was at fault for his lack of relationships with his guildmates, but perhaps Laxus might be a good starting point. Ironic, given that nearly everyone had told him Laxus was off-putting and rude.

The bubbles sent a pleasant chill over him, and Freed felt his tenseness ebbing away. When he got a pass for the resort, he'd have to explore the idea of a massage. He'd never thought it appealing, but perhaps he could be convinced.

There wouldn't be much convincing needed if Laxus were the one massaging him.

"Shit," Laxus hissed, and Freed's eyes whipped open. A rush of panic filled him that somehow he might have said that aloud, but the idea was ridiculous. He looked to Laxus to see worry flickering over him. "The suspect saw me looking, I think he went to get backup."

"Are you sure?" Freed asked, mind suddenly back on focus again.

"No, but we made eye contact. He's suspicious of me," Laxus was clenching his teeth, seemingly annoyed at himself. "We can't fuck it up, the Rune Army don't take shit like this lightly. We need a distraction or to get out."

"A distraction will be easier," Freed concluded. "Does he know for sure that we're looking out for him?"

"I wasn't being careful. I was watching him for about a full minute without being subtle. Pretty sure he knows it's not a passing glance."

"But that doesn't mean you know what he's doing, it just means you were looking at him," Freed mused aloud. "What if we throw him off the scent, give him another reason for why you were so focused on him."

"The hell would that be?" Laxus growled a little, and Freed scanned the room. They were the only two people in there now.

"Maybe you wanted him gone," Freed thought, plans forming in his head. Many of them he had to dismiss outright. "Perhaps if he sees something he wasn't meant to see, he'll think you were looking at him because you wanted him to leave."

"What the hell would I wanna do that I wouldn't want him seeing?" Laxus snapped, agitation rising. An idea came to Freed. It was good, it would get them out of the situation no doubt, but it might have a few repercussions in the future. Many arguments both for and against it flung through his mind, and his indecision must have been obvious, as Laxus continued talking a moment later. "Rule four, if a mission's going to shit and you think you can salvage it, you do it. So if you've got any ideas, I'd love to hear them."

Freed went to open his mouth to explain his idea, but he heard movement from across the room and glanced towards the door. It was opening, and two more suspects were walking through it, stone-faced and angry.

Before he could second guess himself, he launched himself onto Laxus and began to kiss him.

It was a sloppy, energetic, and passionate kiss. Laxus was frozen for a few moments, but Freed forced himself to push on in the hope that Laxus was trying to understand what was happening. Laxus quickly started to kiss back, and a hand ran down Freed's back, pulling him close. Freed began to mess his hands through Laxus' hair, heart pounding and a ringing in his ears cutting through his panic. He couldn't think of how bad an idea this was, about how there were probably hundreds of other ways to deal with this, because rumours stated that the dark mages were powerful, and he didn't want to get into a fight he could avoid.

Kissing wasn't enough for his plan. People kissed all the time. They needed to get… intimate. Freed began to run his hands over Laxus' torso – damn was he strong – and he felt large hands groping at his ass in return. He gasped into the kiss, and forced himself to remember that it was just for the mission.

The sound of a door closing snapped him back to reality, and he glanced to the side without breaking the kiss to see the suspects had left. He pulled himself off of Laxus, to find he'd been dragged so he was straddling the man's thigh at some point, and turned away with a blush, panting quietly.

"Good plan," Laxus said, voice also breathless. "Think it threw them off."

"Yes," Freed agreed. He couldn't look towards Laxus now. He simply couldn't. "I'm sorry for doing-"

"Don't, you did what you had to do," Laxus cut him off, voice somewhat stern, which wasn't helping the situation. "I would've done the same if I thought of it, and you fixed my fuck up. So no complaints."

"Okay," Freed didn't feel any better. He stood up and reached for his towel, still not looking at Laxus. "I think I should sit at the juice bar for a while, we've been together for long enough."

"Wait," Laxus began, shifting slightly but Freed was climbing from the hot tub before he could reach for him. "This ain't- you don't have to leave on my account."

"I'm not," Freed lied. Because of course he was. Laxus might be straight, he might not like Freed, and he might not appreciate being kissed like that at random. "If we spend all out time in the hot tub, it'll look odd. It was overdue, more so now they've seen us."

Laxus looked ready to argue, but sighed and nodded. Freed walked towards the juice bar, fighting the urge to touch his lips. Electricity danced over them.

Kissing Laxus… it felt like being struck by lightning.

[cherryeol04]

Boyfriend (M)

Pairings : Changbin x Reader Genre: Smut, funny, romance, cute Word Count: 2.4K Warnings: This story contains smut. If you are not comfortable with it, please skip!

The one thing Y/N is grateful for, is the fact that on Tuesdays, she doesn't have classes. That meant she was free to sleep in as long as she wanted, do whatever she felt like and she didn't have to worry about getting up and going somewhere. Unless she wanted to go out shopping with a friend, then that was a different story. But for the most part Y/N spent her days off in her cozy little apartment, just enjoying herself. Sometimes she would do a little cleaning, after all she tended to have her boyfriend over often and he wasn't the best at cleaning up behind himself. But bless his heart, he tried. Changbin was a terror normally, walking around the place like he owned it. Y/N was actually surprised that there wasn't a bigger mess when she got up that morning. All of his music producing equipment had been packed up and sat neatly in the small corner of the bedroom that Y/N had deemed his area.

He had complained, saying he should have a bigger spot. But she had countered that he hadn't moved in with her and wasn't helping to pay the bills. Once he did that, he could have as big an area that he wanted. It effectively shut him up because despite the fact they had been dating for over seven months now, moving in was a step that neither one of them was ready to make. It was hard to spend time with each other usually. If Y/N wasn't busy with classes and assignments, then it was Changbin who was locked up in a studio at the university with his friends and co-workers Jisung and Chan - working on their latest track for classes or to upload on Soundcloud. Changbin usually wouldn't leave the studio until the early hours of the morning, to sleep for maybe an hour or two before getting back up and heading to class. It was difficult for them to see each other, but they tried. 

Though not living together, they did leave things over at each other's places, an excuse they used to be over at odd hours of the day. Like yesterday when Y/N really needed a pair of shoes that would match her cute sundress, she had to drive all the way over to Changbin's apartment to get them. It was worth it because she saw his inability to care for himself and ended up making him dinner for that night and lunch for the next day, all neatly stacked in containers and left in the fridge with a sweet note waiting for him on the counter. It was the small things that made this relationship worth it. Because even if she didn't see him as much as she wanted, finding the sweet notes or receiving the crazy sleep deprived texts always put a smile on her face and reminded her how much she loved him.

Of course, those things didn't negate the fact that she was still a woman and she had needs. Strong urges and desires that struck at the most inopportune time. Recently she had been fighting a bout of horniness that always hit her right in the middle of her afternoon class and by the time she got home, it had left, leaving her very frustrated and unsatisfied. She had a plan, however, to fix that. Since it was her day off, she might as well spend it getting off to the thoughts of her boyfriend. A few good orgasms, a hot shower and Netflix sounded like the perfect way to spend her afternoon.

After making sure the apartment was in better condition than it had been, she started her little robot vacuum and made her way back to her bedroom. Stripping out of her pajamas, she situated herself on her bed and reached over to her nightstand, opening the bottom drawer. She was greeted with the sight of the many different sex toys she owned. A few dildos, but most were vibrators of different size, strengths and looks to them. She had one that mimicked the look of a real dick, but the rest were mostly pink and purple, some with bulbous mushroom heads. For the most part they were smooth and rounded, perfect for an easy glide inside, though she could never deny how much she loved the feeling of a head spreading her hole wide. She took a moment to think, eyeing each toy before she grabbed one of the smaller vibrators, purple and made of silicon. It almost mimicked the look of rubber and she loved it's squishy texture.  

Grabbing the lube, she closed the draw and laid the items out next her as she made herself comfortable. Parting her legs lightly, she slowly ran her hands over her thighs, just feeling herself for a moment - enjoying the pleasure brought to her. Working herself up was what she wanted to do as she grazed her fingers over every inch of skin she could reach, thighs trembling as she occasionally teased her clit. She wanted to take it slow, build it up. After all, she had all day to herself. 

———

Changbin hadn’t planned to go over to Y/N’s place. But when he got the email stating his class was cancelled for the day, he decided that maybe he could get in some early work at the studio and then spend the evening with his girlfriend. In his mind, it was a great plan, except for the fact that he had left his equipment at Y/N’s place. It’s not that he minded going over there, it was just that he couldn’t remember if she had classes today or not and he really wanted it to be a surprise that he was coming over. 

He could just simply not work and spend time with her now, but he knew that Jisung and Chan were at the studio already working, and he really wanted to go and help. Maybe he could just sneak in and sneak out? Or if anything he could just say he needed his things for after class. With excuse in mind, Changbin made his way to his girlfriend’s apartment, only a short 5 minute drive from the school. 

He easily let himself in with the key he had and when he didn’t see Y/N in the living room or the kitchen when he passed by, he figured that she probably wasn’t home. Which was great news for him. Walking to the bedroom, he had just pushed open the door when a moan filtered through his ears and he froze in his tracks. His eyes landed on the bed, watching as his girlfriend played with herself. Her hand twisted, moving as she thrusted a toy in and out of herself, vibrations growing louder before fading with each thrust. The fingers of her other hand worked over her clit shamelessly, pulling louder moans and sighs of pleasure. 

“F-fuck, Changbin.”

Changbin’s dick twitched at the sound of his name and he bit down on his bottom lip to suppress a moan that wanted to escape. 

“Deeper. Harder.” Y/N’s hand did its best to fulfill her wishes but even Changbin noticed it just wasn’t delivering the power she wanted. 

“Well, well, well. Isn’t this such a lovely surprise.” Changbin called out, voice conveying a sense of confidence he didn’t think he could muster with the way his heart was pounding rapidly in his chest. The noise surprised Y/N and she jerked, all movements stopping as she stared at her boyfriend with a guilt express. 

“What are you doing here?” She whispered, voice slightly horse from the loud whining and moan she had been doing moments before. 

“Well I came to get my mixing equipment but instead I found a sexy little minx on the bed, all spread out and playing with herself.” He said, watching as she closed her legs around her arm, trying to hide herself from his hungry gaze. Not that he hadn’t seen her like this before. They’ve had sex plenty of times before. This was just the first time Changbin had caught her playing with herself. 

“I-I-“

“Want some help?” 

Y/N nodded her head slowly, carefully pulling out the vibrator from within her and turning it off. She was thinking that if Changbin was offering help, he would fuck her. She didn't expect him to walk over and take the toy from her grasp and turn it back on as he knelt on the edge of the bed. His eyes raked over her naked body, taking in each and every curve - admiring how hard and beautiful her nipples were. Chuckling to himself, he moved closer, sitting between her legs and making himself comfortable. Y/N shivered at the new position and once again tried to close her legs and hide herself from view, but Changbin's hands reached out quickly, pushing her thighs apart once more. 

"Don't do that." he said lightly, voice barely above a whisper, even though there was no reason to be quiet. He stared into her eyes, gaze soft as he tried to convey reassurance and acceptance to her. It seemed to work as she slowly relaxed and let her legs fall open, putting herself on full display for the other. Licking his lips, Changbin grinned as he leaned forward, fingers twisting the top of the vibrator to turn it on the lowest setting. Reaching down, he carefully brushed the tip of the toy against her clit, chuckling as she jerked at the sudden touch to the sensitive nub. 

"Oh fuck." she panted softly, her back arching slightly. Her hips jerked as her abdomen tightened and she tried to pull away from the touch, but the toy followed. "Changbin." she whimpered softly.  Changbin chuckled as he moved the toy, rubbing it against her while watching the way her body spasmed against his touch. 

"You're so beautiful baby, do you like this?" he asked. She nodded her head quickly, soft whimpers leaving her as he moved the toy down further to press against her opening. The tip slipped in and vibrated against her sensitive walls and she keened for more - for Changbin to go deeper and harder. He didn't though. Instead, he pulled the toy out and brought it back up and teased her clit once more. A loud cry left her quickly and she jerked and trembled under his touch, chest rising and falling with quick breaths. "I want you to cum for me." he whispered. "Can you do that?" Y/N nodded her head, ready to cum for the other. She had been teasing herself relentless for who knows how long and she had been getting close to the edge when Changbin walked in.

"Please." she begged almost pathetically, head falling back as she let the pleasure wash over her body - back and hips arching to get more of the pleasure from Changbin. The toy slipped down once more and slipped into her, a deep gasp leaving her as it was turned up in volume and the vibrations increased. Changbin pushed the toy in deeply and Y/N cried out, feeling the vibrations through her core as he shallowly thrusted the toy in and out. "Chang-" Her plea was cut off as Changbin's hot, wet tongue ran over her clit and she spasmed at it. "Oh fuck yes." she cried out and whimpered. Reaching down, she ran her fingers through his hair once before tangling them into the soft strands. Her hips jerked down, rocking down against his mouth and hand. He thrusted the toy in harder, angling it upwards as it stroked her walls - grazing against her g-spot every now and then to heighten the pleasure. His mouth worked over her clit, sucking and licking on it hungrily as his noisy slurps filled the room.

Y/N was tense under him, toes curling as the pleasure mounted inside her. She could feel it, the pressure getting ready to be released and she was so ready for it. "Changbin." she breathed out. "I'm going to cum." she gasped out. It was the only warning she could give as the pleasure reached its peak too quickly. She cried out as the tension released and her body jerked, hole clenching around the toy that was still moving inside her. "Oh fuck! Fuck!" she cried out, panting heavily as she rode out the waves of her orgasm. As she slowly calmed down, Changbin slowly turned down the vibrations of the toy, letting her get used to each level before turning it off slowly and slipping it out. Pulling back from her, he smirked, licking his lips clean of the sweet juices he had been lapping at. Tossing the toy onto the bed, he leaned over and ran a hand gently over her stomach, dragging it up and over each breast, teasing her nipples light with a smile. 

Whining, Y/N smacked at his hand lightly, but didn't push him away as he went back to rubbing his hand over her body. Leaning down, Changbin pressed a gentle kiss to her lips, followed by a few more kisses to her neck and one to her forehead. "You did so good baby," he whispered. "How do you feel?"

"Amazing." she whispered and looked up at him with a wide smile, eyes sparkling with the remnants of pleasure and love and adoration. "Thank you baby." she whispered. Changbin chuckled and gave her another kiss before sitting back on his heels.

"You're welcome." Shifting, he climbed off the bed and grabbed the covers, pulling them up and over her body, tucking her in. "Take a nap babe."

"What about you?" she asked, frowning as she looked down at the obvious boner he was sprouting, before looking back up at him.

"I'll be fine. I need to go and do some work." he told her and pressed a gentle kiss to her temple before pressing his face against the top of her head gently. "Get some sleep okay? I'll see you later tonight. We can play then." he assured her as he pulled back and stared down at her.

"Promise?" 

"Promise." 

She wasn't happy, but she accepted it and after pulling Changbin down for one more kiss, she let him go and curled up on her side. She watched as he moved and grabbed his things, blew her a kiss and left the room. She could hear his footsteps echo lightly as he walked down the hall and eventually the door opened and closed as he left. Alone once more, she let her eyes close, ready to nap with the knowing promise that she could return the favor to him later. And she honestly, couldn't wait.

Tags: @runningonkpop @clandestine-lixie @jisungsjheekies @luminouskalopsia​ @straysrachaa​ @mrbangchannie​ (to be added, go here)

[floridensis]

AH!

(im just rambling under the cut and it got loooong)

ive been looking for the phone i had at this time and i cant find it

okay do you remember back when instagram was for hipsters? like it was literally basically exclusively about putting vintage filters on your pictures to make them look old timey. good times. why cant we go back.

anyway back around (?????) i had an instagram and i literally have no idea if there was a social feature, if there was i never used it. i just used it to make some pretty pictures sometimes.

well back in (??????) we travelled to pennsylvania to visit family, and i loved the vibes there, so much older and less.... whatever its like in my part of florida. i must have decided to take some pictures that matched my vibe. i knew i took some really old cemetery photos and some street photos to instagram, but i had no idea i took this one.

i KNEW i captured this butterfly eating a crabapple, and i had some normal, non-filtered photos, one of which i had as my lock screen. its these photos ive been after for a long time now, because i want to find as many old photos as i can to upload to inaturalist. my main blog has been fantastic for excavating high school finds, but this butterfly has remained elusive. i think i had a tumblr at the time, but some time in the middle of high school something snapped and i manually deleted every single post on my blog with a small handful of hand picked exceptions, so just about everything from before then is no longer there. i never ever ever get rid of my old phones (or most things.... because i have issues) so i know i must have it but i just cant seem to find it anywhere. i was giving the butterfly up for lost. but i was looking at my massive folder full of my photography and related stuff that has only been around for a couple years, and i saw that i must have saved a small handful of my old instagram photos. i opened it expecting to just be nostalgic for pennsylvania but what do you know, i also struck gold!!!!

unfortunately, that instagram account is gone, and this photo is dated at 2017, which must have been when i originally re-discovered it and saved it. the picture is absolutely way older than that, but i have no idea when it was actually taken. my phone would have that information saved, but alas i cant find it. id date this as probably 2009-2011 but i am bad with time in a very big way. i think this might have been a summer visit. so im happy i have this and might upload it to inat in this condition, but i hope im not done. im going to show my mom some of the other instagram pics i had to see if she has an idea about when this was. she most definitely does have that answer though of course she could not pin down the exact date of my butterfly. i will also need her help because i know the exact location of where i took this but i dont actually know where it is. if she gives me the address thatd be perfect.

i also like.... hate the idea of uploading something with a filter but thats all i have until i can find that phoneeeee

(i bet when i find that phone ill also have bunny pictures that will make me literally weep.... i really hope i find it)

isnt it beautiful?

i love floridas nature but i detest the human parts. so modern and ugly. modern doesnt have to be ugly but it sure does like to be. i probably have some not-filtered cemetery shots because these stones were REALLY OLD, but again.... missing the phone. its like impossible to tell from these pics to see what the stones say but they dated back hundreds of years if memory serves.

call it my heavy cancerian influences, i have an immense draw to places and things with strong, long pasts. one day im going to accidentally bring a haunted object home. its hard to articulate my draw but its a feeling i cant deny

[lyricalafrica2]

‘Emergence’ National Gallery of Zimbabwe, Bulawayo September 6th - 19th October 2019 A few pics that I’ve finally managed to upload and a summary of my processes and review of the show and how I felt it went. In my usual way, fairly personal in places. I wrote it immediately after the show and views are always going to change within time. It’s been a few weeks now and I’ve made the transition from Zimbabwe to Botswana, I’ve had time to recover and chill for a little while. Not much drawing going on, but a whole load of sweating as the the season heats up! I feel at this point to write a review of the creative processes of my show may be a little warped in light of the fatigue I’m feeling, however my intention is to do one again come the end of the month when the dust settles to see how my opinions change. Given the subject matter, I’m also curious as to the impact on my own sense of self, immediately after and going forward. I found it strange that immediately afterwards, my focus was drawn to myself, how I looked in publicity photos and not the actual way the show went. Vanity you may think, though that old devil of self-consciousness. This hit me within a couple of hours of the show ending. Going from the heights of adrenaline and excitement, swiftly to over tired and self-critical. I questioned why more artists didn’t attend, berated myself for looking fat, my habit of nervously over gesticulating and the over animation of my facial expressions. Being struck with all of this just after midnight after two hours sleep if that and venturing onto social media in an attempt to quell my restless mind. Before bed, I’d bounced around the cottage in a fir of sheer delight, like an excited child might, amazed and happy that I’d successfully made it to completion. This midnight hour saw me overanalysing everyone and everything, even down to a known artist who turned up, said nothing to me and shuffled off into a corner to eat popcorn and nuts on his own. Not a well done, nor a comment on the content, just nothing, perhaps a slight look of disdain though. Was I just imagining this? Was this silence comment enough on what lay before him? These thoughts are just as responsible for limiting behaviours and in voicing them honestly, I’m hoping they simply release into the ether and just disappear. So, the exhibition was divided into three rooms, for which I wanted to take people on a journey, from conception. Not to say I incorporated every bit of work that I produced. I tried to curate carefully, it was interspersed with pieces that were a bit more literal, leading to much more abstracted concepts. Wording and symbolism, not just because; but because they are a powerful means to switch on the brain and indeed the heart. Positive and powerful. If you think positive, positivity will perpetuate, and vice versa with negativity. You don’t make it anywhere telling yourself that you’re wrong and a terrible person. For this reason, I was pleased that there were a number of children attended. I think instilling in children how important it is to love and respect themselves properly, allowing those little flames of excitement to become brightly burning and sincere passions are important. Most realise only too late where they went wrong and how detrimental it can be in trying to adhere to societal norms. Be yourself, they’re the most important person you will ever encounter. I tried to covey through my mixed media approach, the fragility, but also the resilience of the human spirit. How it could be quashed when handled wrongly, we’ve all had our wings burnt so to speak, we’ve no doubt all had our wings clipped too. Been told to be too cautious, know our limits, not been supported properly at the mercy of someone else’s ego. It can be hard not to absorb these things as we make our way through life, we are constantly in awe of someone else, rather than looking within for the amazing facets we already have. I hold my hands up and confess I am absolutely guilty of this, but in also being a therapist, it becomes so clear how things invariably work. It can be heart breaking to watch someone go through life, never realising there potential, thinking they have to conform to x, y or z, just to be accepted, so they can consider themselves a worthy human being. Whatever happened to simply being a good person and just allowing yourself to shine? Doing your thing, being encouraged to discover all that you are? I have that philosophy of, if we all learnt how to truly accept and love ourselves, our lives would be far easier. We would be able to perpetuate that to our neighbour, to the animals that surround us, to our environment. Can you imagine if we all lived consciously taking a little more care like that? The recurring themes of fragility, fractured, bound and freedom were used throughout the exhibition, never asking people to see the point, but encouraging them to come to their own conclusions. Flashes of mirror, captured people in the moment and very much made them a part of the exhibition pieces. Veining, flight paths, patterning and themes which were very much more emotive were all explored in different ways. Liberal and freeform use of diluted oils on damp surfaces allowed mixed colours to merge and bleed, blown, feathered allowed to run and bloom. Free to behave how they needed to behave. Added texture and collage offered additional light, movement and the suggestion of dynamism to these much more abstract pieces. I’ve never used oils in this way before, but I enjoyed it and would explore it further in the future, potentially with more colour in the background. The mainly white backdrop was an attempt to maintain some form of purity, as in the essence of just being. Smaller pieces formed a panel, with suggestion of cuts and scarring that can be recovered from. It’s never too late to learn to use your wings and take flight! Again the use of the wording ”Public Notice”, I wanted these pieces to be vital in drawing people in, in for introspection, an invitation to look for their own potential. To untangle themselves from societal norms and controlling hierarchies, to find what they were really about and to love and accept that. I wanted people to walk away with a sense of wholeness, or at least an impetus to do some self-exploration. A deeper sense of knowing that they are about so much more than the façade they present to the world every day. The façade that they have built in in reaction to the rules and regulations laid down to keep us all in line. The final room was a room I set aside to be filled by my installation pieces. The recurring symbolism of the eyes, the distorted, obstructed retinas, the colours that represented the opportunity to discover potential. The gaze, from one eye to the other, connected by the knowing, the denial, one an authoritarian with the same infinite potential as the next. Likely undergoing their own demons and using that control to supress and satiate their own need. But what if they found themselves a little more, looked at themselves a little kinder, would there action on the rest of the world still have to be so outwardly commanding? Is all this required because we can’t validate ourselves, we seek to control others, because we can’t control or accept ourselves? Paper bark, shards of blunt glass, fishing wire and chicken wire were all used to create a somewhat ethereal, spiritual effect, because well this was a fairly spiritual topic, but not in the head in the clouds kind of way, more a put yourself up there with the best kind of way. Take accountability for your own height, don’t accept that ceiling just because. It’s usually glass and if someone has led you to reinforce it, it’s about time you smashed it down yourself! So why leave the comments on the butterfly till now? Aside from the very free nature of the butterfly and the way it emerges from the cocoon to reveal its true identity, I wanted that sense of liberation. Detachment from what had come to be expected of it. The Commodore butterfly really did bring it home and in that sense, never accept that you have to be second in command. Be the captain of your own ship. Know that you are precious and that you deserve to be the best version of you, which can only be granted by you and only ever you! The fractured painted mirror adorned with glimpses of butterfly and glass again, was there to suggest that we can all be a bit broken, but we’re still beautiful. Use you power to transform that power into something positive, let it make you strong, don’t let it drown you. Life is tough yes, but it’s also sweet and beautiful. And in that, my final piece invited people into a little box, through the abstracted eye, to see what they could see. I see you, what do you see? It seemed an appropriate if more abstracted carry on from my oil portraiture collection, “Who Am I?”. After having seen my exhibition for the first time alone since Friday need to summarise my feelings here. Am I happy? Yes, after feeling so out of sorts over the weekend. Could there be improvement made on the way that I broach the subject? Of course, but isn’t that the meaning of life? To live and keep learning and to try and improve oneself and approach daily? I really enjoyed the installation and sculptural work. It’s not something that I generally do due to constraints on space, tools and materials aren’t so hard to source back home, but I tend to simply get caught up in painting. It was good to be able to combine that and be able to produce such a multifaceted body of work. I’d very much like to continue exploring this. Feedback from the audience was positive and most people pointed out at least two favourite pieces. The large bright eye and butterfly, the fractured mirror piece and the other sculptural pieces went down well and were said to be a quite unexpected addition to the exhibition. In this sense I was pleased I managed to offer something that was different to the usual standards of exhibition. If I were to do it again, what would I do differently? I’d perhaps pay more attention to the interactive element, maybe think it through for longer, use ribbon instead of thread as it is fiddly and time consuming to tie onto the chicken wire backing. I’d also likely do more sculptural elements. That for me has to have been the highlight, besides the different and at times intoxicating use of the oil paints. Of course the invitations went out rather too late and the carefully selected soundtrack went virtually un noted, the aromatherapy oils that I had infused the room with evaporated and disappeared off into the ether through the open doors. All things that need tweaking, but as they say, not bad for a first attempt at a National Gallery.

[wakasagayhime]

very long, very personal post

tldr, im still not drawing but here’s a detailed account of everything that’s happened in case anyone is confused or misinformed

alright. let me start out by saying i’m not going back to art just yet. it still hurts to do anything art related and i’m still trying to find a way to heal from all of this. i need some kind of professional help first, and i don’t know how long it’ll take afterwards for me to begin feeling like myself again. i don’t even know if i’ll be able to get any kind of professional help at the moment; my university’s counseling center told me, in short, that i’m so mentally ill that their services would not be enough for me and i’d have to look elsewhere (which is reasonable, tbh, they’re almost always completely booked so it’s difficult to actually even talk to someone there in the first place, i only got to talk to them to begin with because i nearly killed myself one night after having the most intense panic attack of my life where i felt like i was actually in the process of dying) and as if that weren’t enough, if you follow me on twitter you’d know that my mom finally left my stepdad, but this means that we no longer really have a home to call our own and are now living with some of my mom’s friends. on the bright side, miso is a lot freer and gets to explore the house as he pleases, but on the downside money is tight and my mom is trying her best to find a place to live while working two jobs and trying to help pay for my tuition. long story short, i want some kind of professional help badly, but all the bullshit that’s been happening in my life makes that difficult. 

anyway, i understand that i’ve worried a lot of people through all of this, and i’m sorry. i truly, genuinely am sorry for everything that’s been going on. i blame a lot of it on myself not being strong enough. if i were stronger, i wouldn’t care about some stupid internet trolls, or some random grown man in florida stalking all my social media. if i were stronger, i could take my life back. i wouldn’t feel the need to constantly contemplate suicide, or to torture my own body by starving because of my physical form feeling like the only thing i have left to be in control of. if i had only been stronger, like my old stupidly foolish overconfident 16 year old self who got into fucking STEVEN UNIVERSE DISCOURSE of all things, maybe i wouldn’t care. even when it first happened to me, after the initial shock and hiatus, i was pretty much back to normal almost instantly.  but this kind of trauma is sneaky and will gradually eat away at you more and more while you pretend to be ok, and then eventually you reach a breaking point and it’s taken over your life. that’s why i’m still obsessing over that day two years later. that’s why i can’t be left alone on december 13th this year, or else i know for a fact i will harm myself in some way. (don’t worry about that though, burger is going to hang out with me that day and i’ll be fine.) still, even though i keep telling myself my past self was stronger, i do know that she really wasn’t. she was still struggling with depression, anxiety, and self harm issues. maybe it just manifested differently for a while. maybe she felt unstoppable at some point in time because she finally found a girlfriend and got a cat. i got into so many fights that weren’t worth my time or energy at all, and part of me wishes i could be that confident again, but i also know that was my downfall to begin with.

i have followers who haven’t been around for longer than a year or maybe less than two, so i might as well give everyone a true, thorough rundown of what happened leading up to that day, the day of, and after. 

i’m sure a lot of you who are worried about me at the moment have seen the recent callout for colboh and his involvement in what happened. i’ll be honest--i don’t know the full extent of his involvement, and i want to believe his foolishness ends at not leaving artists who have blocked him alone and uploading their shit to booru sites when they explicitly state not to. so let’s just start there. i honestly don’t remember if it was before or after i first blocked him, but he uploaded one of my NSFW drawings to danbooru when i first shared my NSFW blog. (PROTIP: if you’re a minor, don’t share your NSFW art with anyone. don’t care if you’re 17, i was about to turn 17 myself. it will bite you in the ass. as such, some of this is my fault.) i quickly contacted danbooru asking them to delete it, and they did--but that artwork subsequently ended up on gelbooru as well, and i was unsuccessful in my efforts to remove my art from there.  

fast forward to december 13th, 2016. it was a normal morning. i was getting ready for school, but also being dumb and lazing around in bed browsing tumblr. i saw a post from a blog that shares Funny 4chan Screencaps. my art was in it. the art was of a very muscular yuugi, a drawing i was proud of, especially in how much gay energy i thought it radiated--but this drawing was being used in one of those typical “here’s a touhou, i wanna fuck her! am i right guys? let’s talk about how badly we want to fuck her” threads. seeing my art used for this was appalling. my first mistake was reblogging the post and saying how it was wrong, and how my art shouldn’t ever be used for such a purpose. my second mistake was making a text post AND tweets expressing my disgust at the situation, thinking no one who frequented /jp/ would ever see, sure that it would be a big waste of their time to concern themselves with some random dumb “”sjw”” artist. i also probably shouldn’t have specifically called them “gross neckbeards,” in doing so i absolutely struck a nerve with basement dwellers everywhere. i got to school and during my second period class, suddenly felt a strange urge to look at /jp/. why i did that, i still don’t really know. maybe i was expecting hate. maybe i was trying to see if they used my art for something gross again. i don’t know. either way, that moment changed everything forever. i saw the screencap of my tweets posted for everyone in their  circlejerk to see. even worse--i looked in the thread, and someone had also posted the NSFW art colboh had uploaded to danbooru, mocking it and calling me a hypocrite for drawing two girls having sex while also saying i don’t like my art being used for those kinds of threads. this is what truly ignited the amount of hate i saw directed towards me in the threads. i got called a bitch, a drama whore, got told to kill myself, and in one reply etched into my mind forever, someone said something along the lines of “we should all call her local gang and have them rape her, she just needs a good dicking.” there were multiple threads, too; i don’t know how many, but there was another one about me after the first one was deleted, in which someone edited a typical fat balding NTR hentai doujin style man into art i made of kagerou nosebleeding at wakasagihime. more disparaging comments were made. in both threads, people expressed their hatred and dislike of my art, some calling it garbage, some just saying it’s “bad,” etc. some people said the threads were unnecessary and rude, but they were a kind few in a cesspool of violence.

i don’t know who started these threads. i can’t assume anything about anyone, but whoever did this was definitely looking through all my social media out of bitterness and hatred, or perhaps even following me on both my tumblr and twitter considering the timing of the threads immediately after i complained. it eats at me that i most likely will never know who did this to me. i’ll never know who hated me so much that they decided to completely destroy my self esteem. if whoever it is who did all of this is reading this and feels any ounce of remorse, i’m begging them to reveal themselves and why they did it, but i know the chances of that happening are incredibly slim. someone, i can’t remember who, maybe it was queenly, told me they hope someday i reach a point where i don’t have to worry about that because i won’t care in general, but i still don’t know if i’ll ever reach a point where i stop caring about all of this.

like i mentioned earlier, after this all first happened, i was destroyed. the next day, my school’s GSA happened to have a vote for whose art would be on the club t-shirts, mine or someone else’s. mine lost. i broke down completely--anywhere i went, i wasn’t good enough, not for anyone. for days, there was a constant feeling of horror and fear  in my chest, something i’ve only ever felt so intensely when one of these threads resurfaces or i suddenly relive my trauma due to other things triggering me. i took a hiatus that lasted a few weeks, i believe i came back sometime before the new year. i thought i was ok, and i pretended like i could go back to being myself. but as time went on, and i continued living with the weight of that day on my back, i became weaker and weaker. i stopped drawing as frequently as i used to. my final year of high school started and i ended up falling into such a deep depression that i constantly skipped school and eventually attempted suicide in november 2017.  the suicide note i wrote cites that day as being one of the main things leading me to my decision, telling whoever did this to me that i hoped in my passing they’d have to live knowing what they did to me. my attempt only failed because i swore to take every pill left in the bottle and there were only four pills. had it been full, i’m not really sure what would have happened. i was sent to a mental institute afterwards for a week. being there was the absolute definition of hell. i was alone. i cried myself to sleep every night. they claimed to be a place where people were improved and got help, but i did not get any help at all. they basically imprisoned me for trying to kill myself. when i got out, i was only glad to be alive because i just wanted to be able to talk to my friends, my family, and my girlfriend again. it still shocks me that i was able to graduate from high school considering how much school i skipped before and after my suicide attempt.

sometime before that school year ended, i became extremely upset one afternoon and decided to run away from home. i had what happened to me and what was said about me that day running through my head. i tweeted that i hoped maybe in running away i’d end up being raped like they wanted, like how i deserved. someone who i considered a friend replied to this with, “fuck you.” after all of this was taken care of and i was safe at home, i responded that i was sorry, that i wasn’t thinking right when i made the tweet. she responded that i was, and blocked me. i tried to explain that i said what i did because of the threads about me on /jp/ and the one response threatening rape, but this was disregarded and, seemingly, ignored. a few days later, the former friend in question started sending me anon hate on tumblr, asking me why i want attention so badly, accusing me of making light of actual rape victims by saying such a thing. i explained myself, but to no avail. i blocked her on tumblr, and left it at that. but then, at the end of the school year, when i was proud of myself for finally getting through high school without killing myself or failing or anything, i stumbled upon the second thread. the date the thread was created lined up exactly with the time between me running away from home and me receiving anon hate. she can try to act like she didn’t make the thread all she wants, but i’m not an idiot. the replies were also eerily similar--people in the replies remembered me, a year and a half after the original thread. some replies mentioned me having attempted suicide months before. some mentioned my NSFW art again. i had a massive breakdown and nearly drowned myself in the pond down the road. it was a wet, rainy night, and i sat on a bench by the pond sobbing loudly, trying to find some way to want to keep living. but i couldn’t. i might have gone through with it if it hadn’t been for burger coming and talking to me and giving me a ride home.

entering college, i thought things would be easier. in a way, they are. i have more freedom with classes. this semester, i attended almost all of my classes, almost every day, just with the exception of me being sick some days and me accidentally oversleeping once, and then one day when i just didn’t feel like it. but things continued to get worse for me--i developed an eating disorder for many reasons, one being the time i spent a year prior depressed caused me to gain a significant amount of weight, and the other being i had sworn off self harm in the form of cutting. i found that i was able to get the same gratification from starving myself. at one point, it turned into a game of sorts, where i tried to see how long i could go without eating anything. my record was a little over 72 hours. being constantly hungry or in pain this way felt like something i deserved in a way, but also something to distract me from the pain of realizing i was losing my love for art. i was in denial about it for months. i tried to keep drawing, but everything i drew upset me, saddened me, and even angered me. i looked at anything i made and only felt disgust. it was the one thing i used to love doing more than anything, and now i only felt shame. 

in november, i acknowledged this and decided to quit for good. recently, i discovered colboh had uploaded more of my NSFW art to gelbooru, even though i specifically stated on my blog to never upload my NSFW art to image sharing sites, specifically right after he uploaded my art the first time. by the time i found this, i had already sworn off art for good, but looking at the comments on my art on gelbooru (and rule 34--i guess they’re connected upload-wise like danbooru?) filled me with so much sadness and shame, not because they criticized my art, but because they said horrible things about my depiction of kagerou. for those who don’t know, i headcanon kagerou as a trans woman, and one thing i do not regret about my time as an artist is how that depiction has helped numerous trans women feel good about themselves and their bodies. seeing so many disgusting comments deliberately misgendering her and making other transphobic remarks hurt me on a completely new level. my trans friends have been such a source of strength for me through all of this and seeing that made me feel disgusted, especially with myself. i felt like i had failed them. i had made so many trans women happy, only to see a man i blocked two years ago had uploaded my art to porn sites, tagging it with dehumanizing words like “f*ta” that i specifically tell people never to refer to my art with, displaying that art for the exact same crowds of people that ruined everything december 13th 2016 to continue to pick apart. one comment even told me to kill myself, effectively bringing back every memory of that day. 

speaking of that, another thing i want to touch on now that i’m up to speed with the details of everything that’s happened related to the original threads two years ago, is kagerou. i’m positive you all know that i really love kagerou imaizumi, and that she’s my favorite touhou character. it’s embarrassing to say, but she’s brought me so much comfort through all of this. sometimes if i’m sad, i’ll imagine her giving me a big hug, or i’ll look at cute pictures i have saved of her, or something along those lines. it’s pretty cringy for a fictional character to make me happy, i know, but i’ve grown so attached to her and she really means a lot to me. and another thing that made me want to swear off art is because she’s loved by so many others that i don’t think my depictions of her do her any good. i’m constantly compared to other artists, and it’s never good. even in the threads, i’m told i should be more like those other artists and these things wouldn’t happen to me. i am not allowed to love kagerou imaizumi. i draw her as a hairy trans lesbian, and that disgusts people. hell, the fact that i draw lesbians in general disgusts people, which sure fucking sucks because i constantly hate myself for not being attracted to men and being able to draw happy lesbians made me feel better about myself. but i’ve ruined kagerou for so many people, especially with my stupid kagewaka bullshit. maybe that’s why those artists unfollowed me. maybe it’s a combination of that and my constant breakdowns becoming far too annoying. i think all the popular artists who used to like me and then unfollowed/softblocked me are really glad to see that i’ve given up. and that’s something else that saddens me too--even as an artist, in my own community of touhou artists, i often feel like i’m lesser, and that i don’t belong. maybe it’s because i’m so foolishly outspoken about my opinions that they dislike me. maybe it’s because i’m a woman, and a lesbian at that. i don’t really know why they hate me so much. i wish i could belong somewhere.

and i think that’s what it all boils down to in the end. i’ve lost all sense of belonging. when i was 14 and people started noticing my art for the first time, i finally felt like i had something. like i belonged somewhere. after being bullied through middle school and having to deal with abusive friends and an abusive dad, it meant the world to me that i finally had something. but it didn’t last long at all. it all came crashing down, not just because of others, but because of me. i was the one who was cocky, getting into fights that weren’t worth it. i was the one who provoked people and made them hate me. i was the one who complained about /jp/ posting my art in their threads. i know people want to believe that i’m a saint, but i’m not. i have myself to blame too. i at least want everyone to understand this, above all else. there was so much i could have done differently to prevent this all from happening, but i didn’t. i was stupid and naive. i was a massive fucking idiot, and now look where i am. i lost everything. i thought i had friends, i lost them. i thought i loved art, i lost that. i thought other really talented nice people liked me, i even lost that. all i have now is an empty shell of my former self. i don’t know what to do with it. i don’t know how i’m going to rebuild myself. it’s so painful to have to keep living like this. i don’t know if there’s any fixing me at this point. i’ve lost so much, i feel permanently broken.

but despite all of that, despite everything i’ve been through, i still receive so much love and support from my followers and friends and it means so much to me. it means the world to me and has kept me going through all of this. knowing that people care about me and want to see me get better and improve makes me want to try to fix myself even if i am broken beyond repair. i just want to thank you all for being that source of strength for me. these past few years have been so hard for me and time and time again i still get love and encouragement from so many people. from the bottom of my heart, thank you. there is nothing more precious to me than those moments when i feel like i do truly belong, when i feel loved, when i feel like i’m not alone after all. for those moments, i’ll keep trying. even if these threads keep continuing and breaking me further, i’ll keep trying. even if every last artist in this fandom comes to hate me and my shitty art, i’ll keep trying. it’s still painful to draw right now and i have a long way to go before i can share art with anyone again, but for you all, i’m going to keep trying my best. at the end of the day, i know everyone’s encouragement and love is worth far more than hate threads urging me to kill myself. 

i’m sorry how long and personal and unnecessary this is, but i felt like i had to set things straight. if you read all of this, i applaud you. if you just kinda skimmed through to read the last paragraph, i also appreciate it. again, thank you. 

[harry-niclach]

Crowns part 13 (End)

Title : Crowns

Previous | Masterlist |

Important A/N: This is the last chapter. There are two other endings, one is angst and the other is also angst! Woo! I’m sad to see the story end but there will be a sequel and I will write the sh*t out of it, I will keep the taglist safe for Crowns 2 (which I still need a title for) It might not be as long and it might not have a schedule because it will all be written on the spot whereas this was written in 8 months and was pre-written when I was uploading all I had to do was split chapters. Anyway I hope you enjoy the original ending and there will soon be links to the alternative endings, I love you all so much and I really appreciate the support, this is one of those things I was scared to write and it’s the first story I’ve ever properly written, again I love you all so much, enjoy! Also quick note, I know I missed last week’s update but I wanted to end on time and you will get just the end of the story and two extra endings I hope that makes up for it! -Harry

Pairings: Romantic Analogical (Logan and Virgil) and Platonic/Familial Royality (Roman and Patton) and some oc and side characters!

Warnings: very mild Panic, Panic attack, Minor Character Death, Illness, Cuts from falling, Swearing, blood, weapons, sword fighting/knife fighting, I think that’s them all? If you want anything tagged don’t feel afraid to ask, your wellbeing is more important than the five minutes it would take to add the warning.

Summary: Virgil has always been alone. He didn’t believe that there was a place for him out there. So when his Mother left him a quick to turn Father he seemed more alone than ever. Now, however, someone is trying to help him, what can their reasoning be?

And more importantly, can Virgil stop himself from being too gay and falling for him?

-

Today would be no different form any other day, they would go to the market gather supplies not only for training and for the guards but for the servants and the staff and Logan would even go on to grab some things for the people in the town who had been really helpful not only getting Virgil set up in a house of his own but those who did the gardens and those who painted the houses and such, he wanted show the work was noticed and that he was thankful.

They had grabbed everything they needed by now and they were just wondering as the market was a dangerous place but it was such a wondrous place too, they were so many things and so many people of different groups with different looks and- everything was just so strangely new and wonderful.

Logan enjoyed the market for so many reason usually because he frequented the book stalls and there was always a new book to read, Virgil loved the array of things you could find at the market,

“Is that-that everything-thing?” Virgil spoke up as he walked side by side with Logan,

“I believe so but we can wonder for longer if you’d like?” Logan was wearing a satchel and a backpack while Virgil wasn’t holding any bags even though he had offered to carry things Logan had told him that he needed to be able to quickly draw and or attack did it come to that,

“Yeah, that w-would be nice.” Virgil sounded so soft and Logan found himself falling even more.

-

They had been wondering for such a long time, but they didn’t really mind, what they didn’t know was that they should have left earlier.

They were nearing the entrance where they had left their horse’s (Logan’s white one and Virgil’s brown and black one) but they were stopped by someone from the South, well no, actually two from the South Kingdom, and the worst bit? It was the Prince and someone -presumably his advisor- that were now stood in front of them.

The Prince was quick to draw his sword and stand in front of his not-very-official looking advisor, Virgil moved even faster to stand in front of Logan but he never revealed his knives or the fact that they were even there,

“Stay away from his Majesty King Logan,” Virgil’s voice was calm and cold,

“What are you going to do cupcake?” Prince Roman was very cocky and Virgil couldn’t stand the meer air of condescension that this guy, Prince or not, was radiating,

“Don’t test me,” Virgil was very quiet and he was concentrating solely on the four of them, everything else didn’t matter,

“You can’t possibly beat me, not with nothing and judging by the size of you, that would never work,” Roman had full confidence in the fact that this-this-kid! Couldn’t take him on, but he had never been more wrong.

Roman in a moments notice charged at Logan, and Virgil at a faster pace reached under his cloak for two knives one for each hand and blocked every swing from Roman immediately, Logan was impressed to say the least.

While Roman brought his sword up Virgil was already predicting where he would swing, but this time Roman brought the sword up very high, he was getting frustrated with this boy, he didn’t see through his frustration that he had left his right side wide open to attack, Virgil took the opportunity.

He struck at Romans side with one slice, he didn’t want to cut him too bad he just wanted to scare him away, or at least detour him a little, but it didn’t seem to be working so he went for the idea of taking Roman down to the ground but not stabbing him,

“Roman stop fightin’ im!” Patton tried to stop the fight but Roman couldn’t hear him over his frustration, the slight sting in his side, and his concentration, he kept attacking Virgil but he hadn’t landed a single hit because Virgil’s defense seemed so strong and well built but he was determined to break it,

Even if he had to use words to do it.

“You don’t seem like you belong here. Nevertheless in the Kingdom of the North,” Roman was just acting now. Virgil was determined not to let it show that Roman was getting to him, even just with two sentences but he couldn’t help it,

That had hurt.

Logan could see the way Virgil froze for a second but it wasn’t enough to put him in danger, he was worried that Virgil wouldn’t be able to take the Prince’s words but he had faith in him, and he was beginning to think that…

He loved him.

Patton didn’t want them to fight, he really didn’t and the small boy dressed in purple seemed pretty cool, so why was Roman fighting him? They didn’t even speak! Fighting never got anyone anywhere. Patton had experience and he knew that. The question was,

How many others did?

Virgil was on the defense for one more hit before he went on the attack. As Roman lifted his sword for another big swing Virgil dodged around him and elbowed Roman in the ribs beforehe kicked him in the back of the left knee, as Roman fell Virgil caught his arm and twisted it so his sword fell before he pushed Roman to the ground and then sat on top of him so there was no way he could get up.

He only sat there for a minute, exactly, and then he turned to Logan,

“W-what do you want-want me to d-do?” His tone seemed innocent but no one was going to take that and provoke him,

“We should let him go but don’t give him the sword back until we are a safe distance away,” Logan’s voice was cold and monotone but it held an undertone of relief and his eyes said he was impressed and proud.

Virgil grabbed Roman’s sword before he got off of him, Roman had stopped bleeding though as the slash was only small, as soon as Virgil as off of Roman, Patton rushed to his side and helped im up,

“I told you shouldn’ have fighted him!” Patton chided Roman but before they could go he ran up to Virgil, who tensed at the former,

“Hey! thanks for not killin’ my friend! You seem real cool and I ‘ppreciate it!” Patton then ran off to join Roman as they left the market, no longer wanting to shop, Patton had Roman’s sword in his hand as he didn’t trust Roman to walk away without causing a fight.

“Virgil, you did incredibly well, but I would like to ask if you are okay? Because the words that Prince Roman said seemed harsh and I want to quell any worried you might have, you do, in fact, belong here and I would testify that forever,” Logan’s voice was softer now and he seemed to want to comfort Virgil but he also seemed awkward and stiff, but he was trying.

And that was all Virgil could ask for.

-----

Alternate Ending 1

Alternate ending 2

---

The ending that you just read is the original ending and here the sequeal will continue from but I had a couple other ideas for endingd so those alternative ones are just bonuses I guess for being late and silent for so many days and weeks now, I hope you can forgive me and that you have enjoyed Crowns Book One, I love you all so much and the support has been overwhelming and it has made me so happy, again I love you all so much and I hope you have a wonderful day, I hope i could make you happy with my stories

:) <3

Taglist:

 @jadekitten1 @super-magical-wizard @impossiblebluebirdcreation @fury-of-rome @karmels-stuff @dead4sevenyears @pumpkinminette@aroundofaceapplesauce @disneyfanatic77

[foruneyti]

Pt. I Greetings. This is all Foruneyti-centric but I hope it is helpful in general. —EA

Hithere! Thank you so much for sending me such a detailed report haha,it really helps me out! Because it was such a lot I will respond persection. I hope you don’t mind!

Pt.2 Somethings that I like in your writing: >Your dialogue. It iswonderful and truly witty at times, and it flows so naturally. It isa joy to read. I wish I could converse in real life the way Healerdoes in the story. So many writers resort to blatant awkwardness inconversation to move a relationship or friendship along; instead, youmake your characters clever and intelligent enough to get out ofunusual places in conversation. I appreciate that so, so much.I’m really glad that this is the case! I love writingdialogue and I’ve come a long way since I started writing (whenever Iread my older stories the dialogue is something that stands out to menegatively) so hearing from other people that it is witty and flowsnaturally is absolutely wonderful; thank you. Pt.3 >Your descriptions: in general, your descriptions are a goodbalance between “telling” and “showing”, which like yourdialogue make the story flow quite well. >Your originalcharacters. They are actually characters, unpredictable in some ways,not merely mouthpieces for ideas or story exposition (Kari of Yllgardis a great example here). Meeting them and getting to know thembetter feels worthwhile, rather than distracting.It’sa relief that those things are also going well! I really aim to givemy characters more layers so that they won’t be one-dimensional andboring, but with so many characters in the casts it’s hard to keep itbalanced and sometimes I even forget one or two exist hihi. Pt.4 >Perhaps first and foremost, I love that Healer is her ownperson, with useful skills and the ability to be simultaneouslycompassionate and an independent thinker. She does not brook abuse(of anoyone else or of herself) mildly; she is morally centred andstands up for her moral beliefs (I would like to add here that(Pt. 5) I think it would be appropriate for the deaths Loki hascaused to trouble her more than it does; I understand her reasons forforgiving Loki himself, but to some extent I would expect Healer’snatural compassion to extend to the many, many families Loki hasdestroyed). Though she is lonely at times, she is not just a hollowshell waiting for some other person to fill her with emotions andexperiences.This is also a big part of what I wanted! ThatHealer would be a character of her own, with feelings and thoughtsand memories of her own, and that without Loki she would still grow –though their growth is definitely amplified by one another. I wantedher to be independent so that their love and relationship could growand blossom healthily. As for the deaths Loki caused, it’s truethat I am kind of letting it fade to the background. I wanted tofocus more on the person Loki was becoming than the person he hadbeen, and since I believe he was not fully in control or didn’t havemuch of a choice during most of what happened back then I didn’t wantto make too big of a deal of it. Now that Healer has to grieve forher own she wouldn’t have the energy to grieve for the many livesthat were lost years and years ago.

Pt6 or 7? Somethings that I do not like in your writing (save the firstcomment, I am trying to be usefully critical here):>The sex. I amnot here for that; honestly I just think it is gross. It is nothingagainst your writing particularly; I just do not enjoy that sort ofthing in stories, ever. When I found Foruneyti, I was looking for aninteresting story that explored a Loki redemption arc in a believableway; many kudos to you for drawing me in despite the sex.Itotally understand! I personally enjoy sex as well as writing aboutit and so for me it is part of a healthy relationship, which is why Iadded it to the fic. You can expect more to come. I’m glad that youstill enjoyed the rest of the chapters though! Sometimesyou do strange things with grammar tenses. For instance, the lastsentence of the fifth chapter of the most recent instalment of “InHer Loving Memory” goes, “The man rose his sword, and sheclosed her eyes.”I am fairly confident that “rose” is anintransitive verb, and “raised” is what you should use whensomething is actually being done with a specific object. Pleaseunderstand that this little nitpicky sort of thing is an indirectcompliment; the rest of your writing (dialogue, descriptions, etc.)is so well-balanced that it is little things like this that throw meoff. Ah!I’m incredibly sorry for that. I can’t really use the excuse of notbeing a native English speaker anymore, but sometimes things likethat still slip. Things like raise and rise, lay and lie; but alsothings that even I think are super silly. I often type reigns insteadof reins, or mix up expressions. I check chapters three to sixtimes before uploading them and I still stuff like that when Ire-read it later. Feel free to point it all out on a chapter when yousee it, so I can immediately change it. Pt7 or 8? >Very occasionally you claim that something clever happensand then you drop the ball. The scene in chapter 14 is a goodexample. The passage goes:“…Should you try to introduce him tothe conversation? Ask him if he had ever experienced such battles?You listened intently to what they had to say, but every question youasked steered the conversation(Pt8 or 9?) in the direction you wanted to go. It was masterfullyexecuted manipulation, and neither of them noticed, until theopportunity came for which you had been waiting and you turned yourheard to the side, glancing at the prince from the corner of youreye. “How about you, then? Surely you must have great tales totell.” …That is abrupt and jarring, not masterfully manipulative.I think this is a more serious mistake where you should have changedthe scene so that it was appropriate(Pt9 or 10?) for the Healer to be so abrupt, or else thought through thescene more thoroughly to give Healer something truly clever to say.Another example would be when Healer tricks Yllva into confessing tothe murder. That seemed unrealistically stupid, even for a spoiledprincess of evil.Ihope you don’t mind that I will defend myself on this one. The lines’Youlistened intently to what they had to say, but every question youasked steered the conversation in the direction you wanted to go. Itwas masterfully executed manipulation, and neither of them noticed,untilthe opportunity came for which you had been waiting (…).” Aremeant to convey that time passed, that she has been conversing forquite some time, asking more and more questions that subtly got herto the point she wanted: a break or pause in the conversation thatallowed her to drag Loki into it. In that break or pause it wasappropriate to ask Loki about his tales without making it seem likeshe didn’t care about the other soldier’s stories. If I had to writeout all the stories the soldiers told, and all the questions Healerasked, it would have made the chapter far too long and far too slow.As for the part where she tricks Ylva, keep in mind that thegirl is not the smartest. She tried to murder Healer with poison sostrong it would no doubt cost quite a lot of money. That way it wouldbe traced back to her sooner or later, and with a devastated andenraged Loki (as well as Thor and all the other soldiers in thegroup) in that scenario she wouldn’t have benefited from it at all –and the consequences would have been dire. When she noticesHealer doesn’t die she gets more reckless and directly poisons herfood. She could have done it herself, in which case people (mainlyservants) would have seen her going to the kitchens where shedefinitely never comes, or, more likely: she had a servant do it forher. That means at least one servant knows its her, and so when thestaff would get questioned by the at that point merciless Loki itwould come out sooner or later as well. Either way: dumb. So,now that we’ve established that Ylva is not very bright, she is inthat moment set on defending herself however possible. When she heardHealer semi-accuse her of something she hadn’t done she had to denyit to try and save her hide – and she hadn’t really thought aboutthe words with which she chose to do so. In her panic she blurted outthe first that came to mind and so fell right into the trap. Ofcourse, it’s fanfiction, and so I’ve taken a few liberties on howrealistic things are, but in my opinion it makes for a far moreinteresting story than when the investigation starts and it takesthem two more chapters to just confirm what we already know: the girlhad truly tried to murder Healer. Ona final note, not concerning anything critical: I would just like toadd that as an addition to the Foruneyti universe “In Her LovingMemory” works incredibly well. What an emotionally powerfultale. (Lastpart) I read the scenes at the tree (Healer’s and Loki’s) and wasstruck by the aching sadness in both. I look forward to seeing whereyou go with that tale. May your writing (for Foruneyti and elsewhere)proceed excellently. Sincerely, EA

Thankyou so much! I really hoped it would, and emotionally powerful was(and is still) the goal. For it to affect your feelings is all Icould have wished for.  

Again,thank you for leaving such extensive feedback. If you want to discuss anything I’ve said in this post just send in another ask, I really love talking about my work. For anyone elsereading this post: do you agree, disagree, or do you have somethingto add? Feel free to respond to this post or to send me an ask ofyour own! (anonymous if you want). The more opinions I get the easierit will be for me to see what things I will need to focus on more! ❤

[readfelice-blog]

Moominland Chronicles Siebzehn: infatuation is not a gift

Blog guide: all italics are my wednesday edits.

Before we begin:

Anyone who suddenly might be unexpectedly flush, my crowdfunding campaign has less than 24 hours left

https://www.indiegogo.com/projects/acht-ocho#/

Well then, hello, no more letters lets return to moominland.

You might remember in my last chronicle that my bloody tale of woe was still in action, after many pills and spending time with a really wonderful gynaecologist who spoke about death with me - following my lead, (she didn't open an appointment with a death chat, I don’t think doctors are normally allowed to even think the word) it was finally determined I have chlamydia.

Surprise!

What fun eh?

I’m on antibiotics now, it should be gone by this weekend, and the bleeding stopped about 2 weeks ago after I started a combination of blood clotting pills and the contraceptive pill. My suspicions are it was stress, hormones and chlamydia that caused the gushing of blood, it would be an act of suicide on chlamydias part to deprive itself of so much iron, which it needs to survive.

So as inferred previously, the NHS would of caught this sti months ago, I would not of cost my insurance company thousands of euros or been subject to various ultrasound spy dildos and gleeful practitioners telling me I was pregnant rubbing their hands together in anticipation of jumping into my vagina, or surgeons hysterically clutching scalpels, so overjoyed to be operating again.

BUT, if I had dealt with my insurance issue diligently, and gotten a proper gynaecologist much earlier and done my research carefully, AND LEARNT GERMAN, this would also not have happened, so I can't deny my own responsibility in all of this either. I still retain my idiot abroad status, which I need to work on to be a proper functioning expat.

So, I’m lying in bed a bit nervous because I’m printing my first copies of my publication tomorrow to fly them to italy at the weekend: it’s Tuesday as I type this horizontal on my phone. As I'm away and just embarking on the next chapter of my project, the making it really real bit, I thought it best to get this log drafted and up before I go.

They’re done, some of the pages are wonky, but they look great actually.

Follow the diary of this project here:

https://felicezhukov.net/bocem-diary

(Because death lurks round every corner, it’s best not to have any unfinished business.)

It’s been quiet, I’ve been napping a lot and taking pills and cutting down salt, my social life has utterly ground to a halt aside from the occasional quick drink and my trips to the studio to practise the live element of this project, which has been revealing itself to me and making me consider myself in a new light, somewhere between a musical performer, a stand up comedian and just all out weirdo, but I’ll refine this at a later date.

What I want to talk about this week are the letters to Nicolás Jaar, but not as a letter to him. As thoughts directed into the macrocosm of the internet.

Because I finished ‘I love Dick’, at first I wrote a very clumsy synopsis and realised many of the critical details had passed me by, academic references sifting out of my mind like flour and swirling away into the air. It has made me realise I need to study what I read, but again that's a thought to refine later.

Still, I was left with a very strong impression which fermented inside me like kimchi and whilst sat in my kitchen earlier between courses, my eyes resting on candlelight, it struck me, the protagonist of the book, Chris, was bullying dick, suddenly it was crystal clear that her infatuation was never weathered by Dicks resistance, that Dick could be curious and still also be anxious about her attention, that victims make mistakes to. But she ploughed on, regardless of his protests, for a long time.

Now, my letters to Nicolás Jaar only lasted a matter of months in comparison, and did not include any colluders, but they were still deeply personal and troubled. Week after week I decried the suffering in my life, the cruelties I was facing, the emotional carnage of my break up and my alcoholism, addressing them to someone I’d formed an infatuation about solely on the impressions of his public persona and his music.

When I was 15 I was obsessed with the doomed relationship of courtney love and kurt cobain, as a the eternal odd one out with nowhere to go in the countryside I entertained myself by creating a character called enigma, who lived in New York. I drew hundreds of drawings of her in different attire that looked more like fashion illustrations than anything descriptive, my mum used to get frustrated at this waste of talent bound to repetition, and enigmas neck was always to long.

Enigma had a lover, called jake, chiselled jawline, a genius musician with a tortured soul, he seduced and slept with all of New York’s cultural elite, but he loved enigma. Though they stayed plural and their relationship was often fraught, they were absolutely bound together, forever destined to explode and then reassemble.

Jake didn’t kill himself.

That fantasy has taken new form, enigma looks like me now, but it is the foundation of every infatuation I develop.

Nicolás Jaar was in the middle of a grueling international tour, I mangled what I read about him into some kind of twisted connection between us, he was travelling the world to the backdrop of me destroying every last vestige of my life,in all senses of the word, selling and trashing my life’s work and possessions, leaving my husband, leaving my home of over 10 years.

Then In its closing chapters I retold and fictionalised a very unsettling story about murder and submersion, the whole thing taking an unsavoury twist with me paralleling beauty and the beast, what if the beast had killed beauty?

I was the beast.

But aren't we all the beast sometimes?

I can only imagine how tiring and unsatisfying months of touring can be for someone creative who wants to innovate and explore in their work, it would be my personal hell, that rotation of groupies, hangers on and gargantuan crowds, barely a moment to breathe and personal space so diminished that you stop knowing who you are any more. In the midst of this to be receiving unsolicited attention from a mentally damaged stranger on twitter, sometimes 2 or 3 times a week, could only serve to heighten the stress you're already experiencing and cause you to disassociate yourself from your inner core even more.

In my mind I was pleading to be saved by devoting all my attention to him, in my unhinged state I felt like by baring everything to a man I’d never met he’d be so disarmed he'd surely empathise, find solace in my garbled stories of misadventure and anxiety.

But now I see how selfish it was, to project on to another human, after all dick was just a human to, with all his own baggage to cope with, though infatuation can amplify its object the reality is noone is really built to cope with that kind of attention, not Dick, not Nicolás Jaar.

Though it was an interesting exercise in some way and will always be part of my oeuvre, probably more definitively so because it exists on the internet, so if the walls don’t come crashing down it is relatively protected, it wasn't kind. I was not trying to help Nicolás Jaar, or create something nourishing, it was selfish. Infatuation is, at its core, selfish, the object is merely that because there is no connection, or at least in this example. There was never any exchange between us, just me pouring all my illness into him blindly.

And I know this well because I have suffered with others becoming infatuated by me on more than one occasion, it’s not pleasant.

In Turin, on stage, he seemed so broken and at odds with himself during his set, he appeared to be really unhappy, my most noble act in this whole enterprise has been to stop writing him letters and focus on myself. I do feel angry with the former me though there is no use regretting what has already passed and life moves on as surely as the sun and moon pass each other in the sky.

In the end i cant punish myself, to err is humane, to forgive divine, I must forgive myself as well.

I’m glad im returning to Turin a more advanced and thoughtful person, I’m going to order in a restaurant this time (well, maybe, but I’m definitely going to buy chocolate) and have a nap before I go out on saturday, I’m going to go to Italy this time, not to stand wretchedly at the feet of a man who owes me nothing and asks for nothing from me. Because as someone grappling with their own fears about performing: this kind of incident is one of the key aspects of what I am terrified to illicite, so i say to you my readers, that I'm sorry to Nicolás Jaar and I will never repeat this journey with any future influences in my life.

I wonder if Chris Kraus has ever apologised to Dick, I’m going to give it a google now I think then try to get some sleep.

Goodnight all, next week I’ll regale you with my Italian trip and who knows what else.

Should ever our paths cross, I don't think I could be like chris, I feel like I’m done exposing him, so it may very well be that whatever ending this story could have, this here will be the end in terms of its written account, I might never type the words Nicolás Jaar on tumblr again.

And by the way, I’ve already uploaded my album, because actually I detest exclusivity, it’s free to download and publically available on 2 of my music based accounts, it’s not hard to find, trust me.

[felicezhukov]

:: Dear Nicolas Jaar ::

The meat was heavy from a night of drinking till 3am with pe teachers and policewomen, an unusual crowd for her. Once home sleep never really naturally followed for a few hours and in fact she was up till daybreak, listening to cocorosie on repeat, deep in her imagination. A sort of strange early hours ritual she’d fallen into as her body clock stretched more towards daybreak than the thick of night.

So she rolled out of bed, leaden, pottered to the kitchen and poured herself some water laced with rehydration salts and a pot of tea and chilli, as it was Sunday Brain Pickings was the morning fodder she lapped up. It’s a forgiving and kind source of knowledge that always gave the meat food for thought, like being hugged in the waking hours by someone with infinite kindness and wisdom.

Ursula K Le Guin:

“ A poem or a story consciously written to address a problem or bring about a specific result, no matter how powerful or beneficent, has abdicated its first duty and priviliage, its responsibility to itself. Its primary job is to find the words that give it its right, true shape. The shape is its beauty and truth.”

The meat loved Sundays, she took her time reading and then put a little beef in the oven and went to get on with her daily workout, as she knew she’d be performing soon and as the regime of weight training she’d been doing had caused strain in her upper arms and shoulders she thought she’d treat herself for the next couple of days with some flow based yoga, she selected the water light routine (something about today felt exceptional, she couldn’t pinpoint why and water light was in keeping with the descent she decided) and was about to begin but the lampshade in the bedroom was hanging low and she knew with a flow routine it would become frustrating so she decided to remove it, something she’d done many times before.  

It was especially sticky today and maybe she pulled a little too hard, the meat always forgot how strong she was. It popped and briefly flashed and then the whole house was plunged into darkness, the moon went mad, he was extremely reliant on electricity, more than most people the meat knew (this coupled with the fact he was also working, his laptop only really useful when plugged into a power source). He threw a barrage of insults and angry tirades at the meat, who shocked and embarrassed made the active decision not to challenge him on this and just allow the cold waters of stinging words to wash over her, and disassociate. Ultimately she was a liability and knew this well, always in a cycle of destroying things, pulling together broken shards and attempting to hide her mistakes (but she couldn’t hide this).

It wasn’t the fuse box they had to move the cupboard away from to access.

“Just call Chris” she said in a small voice.

At first it seemed like a problem that couldn’t be fixed immediately, the meat saw the progression of her day, walking out the front door and leaving the moon alone in silence, at the best of times he couldn’t preoccupy himself without a screen but robbed of it against his will, she knew the suffering it would inflict. She started to tidy away her workout things, this dramatic turn had removed her from a zone of restful enjoyment, exercise would be more troubling than kind at this stage. But after the second call from Chris, the Moon ran out into the yard and after a few minutes the house started buzzing again and all the utilities bleeped their hello’s.

The meat thought it was tomorrow, but now a sensation raced through her, she needed to make her descent today, she needed to perform what had been building on the edges of her mind for many months. She wanted to start the healing process and find her footing again, this project had been the most important of her artistic outpourings to date, but she wanted to feel the ground beneath her feet for a short time. And anyway, she always jumped in headfirst, it was never a trickling or careful walk.

So she continued her slow wake up and got dressed in modest attire as she wouldn’t be wearing it for much of the day anyway. Then she made herself some eggs and veg, a hearty breakfast as she wouldn’t eat much else, in fact she’d been skipping breakfast for several weeks now so it was a welcome change to have a full plate of food in front of her. Then she told the moon, who had calmed and travelled to a place balanced between shame and pride he always went to after a particularly bad spell of emotional cruelty.

“I’ll be getting a taxi probably around 4am or so I guess, it’ll just help me to know you’re on the other side of the phone.”

She had previously invited the virgin to join her, as it seemed necessary to have another spirit in with her when she touched the emotional chasms she was about to visit. But the virgin after having re entered and become a feature in her life again, was in a spiral. The meat had been going through a lot of asphyxiating tension herself and realised she really needed to be alone to do this. 

Her walk to the studio wasn’t a particularly distinct one, on this special day, she finally got to open the umbrella she’d found nearly 2 months previously, it was delicate but strong and she was happy with it. Otherwise it was a just a group of young lionesses that struck her, pivoting out of the park and then veering into an estate adjacent but further along. Great manes of thick hair, powerful strides and able bodies with pulled waists and shimmying hips. She felt a sense of maternal care for them, but not because they were vulnerable, because they were proud.

Then Tesco’s, before she’d left the moon had made the valid point that the cucumber would need a condom, she’d been racking her brain for what the missing element was and on hearing this the last piece of the puzzle slotted into place. There was a very slow man drawn over the cucumbers in the fridge, like a human wall, pouring over each one in great detail, yet again the meat felt impotent in a supermarket, with someone else standing over the only thing you really need to inspect. In her whole life she’d never come across someone so interested in cucumbers and shards of annoyance tingled through her body. But she got her cucumber, not organic, her cider, her bottle of coke and her condoms.

On the steps she followed her routine and had a quick smoke and a sip of cola before heading in, today she wouldn’t write her hours on until she was finished as she wanted anonymity which she felt would somehow be gained by not being on the checkout sheet. There weren’t many characters in, the hard working designer that never seemed to be away, clothed in ritual black, arrived in a taxi as she was outside smoking, he was always someone that gave her a feeling of safety, something about his commitment was endearing, though they didn’t even say hello to each other.

In her segment of the basement she was the only one, freedom, ultimate in her isolation, she tidied up and finished sticking things with gaffa tape, blew up the balloons, painted the bee, drank ultra strong coffee and continued to listen to cocorosie. There was still a feeling of unease coursing through her, but as the hours wore on she married herself to the happy thought that she would not be interrupted tonight, all this panic of invasion which had been present so much in her life, washed away, she could scream and cry and no one could hear her. She got everything ready, and then started a practise run though without paint, completely naked, setting up and filming as she stuck up flowers with celloptape, balanced the dolls on the edges of the stage, danced and screamed. When she first began there was a man making strange humming noise, something almost satanic in the tones he was creating. But as soon as she started her own singing it dissipated, everyone in the basement had gone, she knew this now.

The moon balloons popped, so she decided to make them paper circles instead.

Alongside filming she’d be managing her live stream on her iphone through an app she’d downloaded and in the process contacted a good friend in the hope she could record it in the sex chat room whilst she performed. It had worked for the run through, they were snippets that she was uploading but it gave her a sense of purpose knowing she was broadcasting to the greater world and had an audience. Perhaps unadvisedly she had given over to a reliance there would be no hiccups when it came to the final performance. It all just seemed to be running its course, once she’d unsheathed the cucumber, lying elated and breathless on the floor, she decided to dress and go out for a few more ciders. Already intoxicated but in a stage of complete carnality, she wanted to consume more, to get to a greater void and strung out place. That and a big bag of peanuts, which had come to be a token of the more excessive times in her life. She decided to have a cigarette and think on it, one of her standard practises.

When she got to the door that would lead her out of the basement it was closed, in an unusual way she’d never seen before, shutters were firmly pushed down, as she didn’t even realise there were shutters it was a perplexing sight, so she made a beeline for the fire exit instead. Outside upon lighting her cigarette a sudden realisation hit her, shit, how am I going to get back inside? The meat mentally slapped herself, all that prep and now there was the possibility she’d locked herself out of her studio. She had cards and keys so she could return when someone had opened it again, but after the rehearsal, the depth’s she was drawing from, the craving in her movements, she desperately wanted to live out this exorcism now.

“It’ll be ok, I’ll work out how to get in.”

Always the eternal optimist she marched away from the panic in her head and then back down to the shutters. This time on the opposite side, with phone torch light in hand, she inspected the door, assuming they’d be like the front one and there would be a keyhole function, as no one had told her about them she assumed the keys would be the same as those for the front door. But alas no joy, she patted all round the shutters, looking at the grooves of the metal, the nuts and bolts, she gently pulled the bottoms of them, there was a quick flash through her mind just to break in, but sense prevailed. She decided to attempt to pull from the bottom again, wary of the morning she did it more firmly but still carefully, so as not to break anything. To her relief this was how you opened the shutters! They just grumpily slid up and she darted through and then closed them again, warm in the knowledge that there was another barrier between her and the outside world and proud she’d worked through more adversity and not given up, tucked her tail between her legs and gone home.

Back in the cave (her studio) she tipped the last of the cider she’d bought from Tesco’s in to her mug and checked the time, ahead of schedule and happy in the knowledge she was alone she decided it was best to get to the shop now, once the final performance was in action she wouldn’t be going anywhere for a while, it would demand absolutely everything. As it was past 11 she slung towards the deceptive Turkish Shop round the corner, which on first entry hides the plethora of imported japanese and korean goods it holds, it took 4 or 5 visits before she discovered all the hidden treasures in unexpected rooms. The staff were generally a moody lot, some of the least impressed shopkeepers she’d ever come across but happily one of the younger men she had a rapport with was working today.

It was full of dazed drunken bank holiday revellers, a very rare sight on Sundays, only custom on these post apocalyptic weekends when the general proportion of young day workers threw all caution to the wind and spent 3 days in a state of near paralysis.

With nuts and cider in hand she headed back to her cave for the final showdown, on the borders of hysteria and panic but still surprised how much less destructive it was feeling than she’d anticipated.

Back downstairs the hesitation about publicising the stream was suddenly lost and she felt like actually she really wanted to know others were with her. The friend she’d asked to film it was on call and gearing up to record it from her laptop in scotland, it felt wonderful to know this friend would be a spectator and she’d also have the film footage as well. She loaded the app, mixed her paints and prepped the first scene, when she pressed broadcast it seemed to work exactly as it had done before so she strode out and begun. Singing her descent song she climbed up the ladder and then made her journey back down, fully in the flow of the piece she allowed intuition to guide her, writhing and seething she pulled apart the paper moons that braced the ladder and then painted herself with the black paint pre mixed at the edges of the stage.

So as not to interrupt the broadcast she’d decided to just leave it running and as she set up for the walled garden, cello taping flowers to the ceiling, putting the bee pinata in its central spot, painting herself in blue and pink, she spoke to herself and to the viewers, talking to the moon about love lost, each movement vital and raw. Once dried she positioned herself for the next scene, whereas the descent down the ladder had been sensual and melancholic the walled garden was frantic and violent. Quick savage movements filled the scene, once beguiled by the bee and then desperate to reach it she pawed and clawed towards it, then was caught up by the flowers hanging from tape beside her until she managed to break free and in guttural agonising breath set to work in decimating the flora at her feet and then following this the bee fell down of its own accord so she then brutalised it as well, exploding in clunky shards it shed the snakes that lay within it. At the climax of the scene she howled and fell to the floor, sobbing in powerful lucid tones until all the pain and suffering accumulated around the lived events which had inspired the scene were gone. Then she pulled her carcass up and exited the stage, feeling effervescent, opened.

It finally came time for the mermaid kingdom and wedding, she collected all the flowers and without thinking threw everything away in a large white binbag. Once cleared she hung the virgin and the prince, rushing inside with the understanding that this would be the most challenging and somehow pivotal part of the piece. Once the dolls were all in place it was time to begin, throughout the setup she’d chastised the bee, speaking in a broken but paradoxically aggressive manner.

Covered in pearlescent paint she walked out onto the stage, feeling the most naked she had done since starting even though she was the most caked in acrylic paint. The cucumber was sheathed, the tape was ready, she firstly encountered the prince and virgin, after an initial sensual account she unwound the masking tape around them, the virgin was a little loose and at first the tape fell from her veil, but unperturbed the meat kept winding it round, until the virgin and her prince were facing the camera and looked somehow reviled by each other but bound together anyway. In retrospect this fits as the Meat is still living through the slow breakdown of her marriage and possibly a holy union is not something she really abides by in principle.

Then she crawled out to the dolls cast on the floor, the male doll already with its pulsating green member, ready to go, she mounted it and felt a pain as its girth pushed through her, then she began to rut over it, allowing herself to become fully immersed in the doll, it felt like she was really with someone and by the time she’d had her fill and coarsely moved over to the female doll it was so heavy and thick inside her that all normality or belief of the performance as a fiction had dispensed, she felt entirely in the mermaid kingdom and accordingly the pleasures she got with the female doll, rolling around in ecstasy, were entirely authentic. Then she grabbed the confetti cannon and dispensed with its contents. It ejaculated in the wrong direction and so to compensate for this mistake she rolled over and threw the detritus up over the bound couple above her, creating more of a blossoming effect than an explosion.

Then she lay down in silence in the centre of the stage and proceeded to masturbate, by now so enraptured, truly in the last layer of the descent, that cuming was not an issue and even a relief which bound the whole thing together for her mentally and physically. After she sat up slowly, unmasked herself and looked out to her perceived audience, truly fully present and accounted for, taking in her last breath the meat tumbled back to where her cameras were set up, triumphant that she had done precisely what she set out to do.

What awaited her was a text from the aforementioned friend, saying the feed wasn’t working and that the meat was offline, it dawned on the meat that despite feeling like she had an audience she had just spent the last hour performing to no one. A sense of humiliation was coupled with this, for telling so many about her grandiose plans only to fail at one of the key aspects due to lack of proper planning. But still this didn’t override her feelings of clarity and freedom borne from what she’d just gone through, she knew she’d still have the film and screening and that there would be some interesting philosophical debating she’d now do with herself internally about the idea of performing to no one and what that could mean. In all essence this project had been embarked upon naively and only as she’d gone through it had she realised it was an important and life changing journey of self discovery, which would act as a catalyst against her life to bring her to new mental realms and a better understanding of herself.

She sat with her aspalls and smoked a few cigarettes in her cave, a defiant act she knew but after what she’d just gone through and the fact that she was covered in thick paint which would be a commitment to remove, the alternative seemed horrific. Then she climbed into her sponge bath, pre prepped and began the slow dutiful process of removing said paint, what had struck her before as the most detestable aspect of getting it off was the fact that it didn’t just turn to liquid but instead collected in bits, caking sponges and causing a gritty feeling on the skin. It took a while but after towelling herself off and getting dressed she was ready and full absolved, as if a spiritual opening had just taken place, which by all accounts it was. Her ritual sex rite.

The meat hurriedly collected empty bottles and the remaining rubbish that would cause an immediate smell, leaving the dolls and splattered paint as a token for her next encounter with her cave. Then she zipped up her coat, loaded up uber on her phone and turned off the lights, briefly hypnotised by the odd glow above her and the cathartic nature of darkness. After dropping the rubbish in the bin and swanning through the shared desk space at the entrance of the studio she was elated to see the designer still working, even though it was 3:30 am. There was something reassuring and precious that he was still there, of course she didn’t acknowledge him but left with a little more room opened to him in her heart. She wrote on the sign in sheet and then after going to the toilet stood propped against a tree outside the studio waiting for her uber driver, despite the first 2 cancelling the 3rd arrived properly and whisked her through shoreditch and back home.

She’d been finding uber drivers to be more chatty and engaged recently, she wasn’t sure if this was because the rating system could cause them to lose their livelihoods in a snap second or because the energy she was presenting invited engagement but in her taxi on the way home the pattern repeated again. Against a backdrop of drunken people streaming out of clubs and bars, hovering around kebab shops and off licenses, she tried to describe to her driver what she was feeling, that she’d just completed months of work and that her body, though drained, was full of realisation. He was interested and keen to listen, allowed her to stop off at a shop and buy all the things she’d been denying herself in the last few months and up until he dropped her off it felt like they shared a little hub of inclusiveness together whizzing along the streets of London.

Once home the meat wrote you a brief entry Nicolas, ate as much as she could fit in her mouth, didn’t drink the cider can she’d bought and passed out on the sofa bed without having taken her makeup off and still with paint adorning her skin. In her last hours of the day she listened to space is only noise, which felt somehow correct as her send off from the most important day she’d ever had.

Now the meat is lying in bed, which she has been all day, only managing to have a few cigarettes in the courtyard and cook an extraordinary amount of porridge and buckwheat. Tomorrow she’ll go back to her cave to survey the destruction but she won’t work out and she’ll have a croissant for breakfast. The next few days are her treats to herself, she deserves them.

I hope you enjoyed reading this Nicolas, its helped me a lot to write it.