#I worked so hard on my pieces and there are so many lovely artists apart of this project

[inkskinned]

the thing about art is that it was always supposed to be about us, about the human-ness of us, the impossible and beautiful reality that we (for centuries) have stood still, transfixed by music. that we can close our eyes and cry about the same book passage; the events of which aren't real and never happened. theatre in shakespeare's time was as real as it is now; we all laugh at the same cue (pursued by bear), separated hundreds of years apart.

three years ago my housemates were jamming outdoors, just messing around with their instruments, mostly just making noise. our neighbors - shy, cautious, a little sheepish - sat down and started playing. i don't really know how it happened; i was somehow in charge of dancing, barefoot and laughing - but i looked up, and our yard was full of people. kids stacked on the shoulders of parents. old couples holding hands. someone had brought sidewalk chalk; our front walk became a riot of color. someone ran in with a flute and played the most astounding solo i've ever heard in my life, upright and wiggling, skipping as she did so. she only paused because the violin player was kicking his heels up and she was laughing too hard to continue.

two weeks ago my friend and i met in the basement of her apartment complex so she could work out a piece of choreography. we have a language barrier - i'm not as good at ASL as i'd like to be (i'm still learning!) so we communicate mostly through the notes app and this strange secret language of dancers - we have the same movement vocabulary. the two of us cracking jokes at each other, giggling. there were kids in the basement too, who had been playing soccer until we took up the far corner of the room. one by one they made their slow way over like feral cats - they laid down, belly-flat against the floor, just watching. my friend and i were not in tutus - we were in slouchy shirts and leggings and socks. nothing fancy. but when i asked the kids would you like to dance too? they were immediately on their feet and spinning. i love when people dance with abandon, the wild and leggy fervor of childhood. i think it is gorgeous.

their adults showed up eventually, and a few of them said hey, let's not bother the nice ladies. but they weren't bothering us, they were just having fun - so. a few of the adults started dancing awkwardly along, and then most of the adults. someone brought down a better sound system. someone opened a watermelon and started handing out slices. it was 8 PM on a tuesday and nothing about that day was particularly special; we might as well party.

one time i hosted a free "paint along party" and about 20 adults worked quietly while i taught them how to paint nessie. one time i taught community dance classes and so many people showed up we had to move the whole thing outside. we used chairs and coatracks to balance. one time i showed up to a random band playing in a random location, and the whole thing got packed so quickly we had to open every door and window in the place.

i don't think i can tell you how much people want to be making art and engaging with art. they want to, desperately. so many people would be stunning artists, but they are lied to and told from a very young age that art only matters if it is planned, purposeful, beautiful. that if you have an idea, you need to be able to express it perfectly. this is not true. you don't get only 1 chance to communicate. you can spend a lifetime trying to display exactly 1 thing you can never quite language. you can just express the "!!??!!!"-ing-ness of being alive; that is something none of us really have a full grasp on creating. and even when we can't make what we want - god, it feels fucking good to try. and even just enjoying other artists - art inherently rewards the act of participating.

i wasn't raised wealthy. whenever i make a post about art, someone inevitably says something along the lines of well some of us aren't that lucky. i am not lucky; i am dedicated. i have a chronic condition, my hands are constantly in pain. i am not neurotypical, nor was i raised safe. i worked 5-7 jobs while some of these memories happened. i chose art because it mattered to me more than anything on this fucking planet - i would work 80 hours a week just so i could afford to write in 3 of them.

and i am still telling you - if you are called to make art, you are called to the part of you that is human. you do not have to be good at it. you do not have to have enormous amounts of privilege. you can just... give yourself permission. you can just say i'm going to make something now and then - go out and make it. raquel it won't be good though that is okay, i don't make good things every time either. besides. who decides what good even is?

you weren't called to make something because you wanted it to be good, you were called to make something because it is a basic instinct. you were taught to judge its worth and over-value perfection. you are doing something impossible. a god's ability: from nothing springs creation.

a few months ago i found a piece of sidewalk chalk and started drawing. within an hour i had somehow collected a small classroom of young children. their adults often brought their own chalk. i looked up and about fifteen families had joined me from around the block. we drew scrangly unicorns and messed up flowers and one girl asked me to draw charizard. i am not good at drawing. i basically drew an orb with wings. you would have thought i drew her the mona lisa. she dragged her mother over and pointed and said look! look what she drew for me and, in the moment, i admit i flinched (sorry, i don't -). but the mother just grinned at me. he's beautiful. and then she sat down and started drawing.

someone took a picture of it. it was in the local newspaper. the summary underneath said joyful and spontaneous artwork from local artists springs up in public gallery. in the picture, a little girl covered in chalk dust has her head thrown back, delighted. laughing.

[potol0ver]

Ask; Hello, I read you have your request open, and I really like how you write about Erik. So, if you feel in the mood, I like some scenario (GN or AFAB) in which y/n starts to work ato Opera House like an skilled effect artist and one night, when y/n finally has some time free and alone, Erik found her playing something like ROxxanne tango with the cello, because she play it but only for herself.

Tags; Fluff, GN reader (you and yours),

A/N; Hey, I’ve been silent for a while and I’m sorry for that. I wasn’t motivated to post any fics and was in writers block. Now I need to focus on my health because a serious health concern has come up for me, so I apologize for continuing to be radio silent. I’m a little out of it while I’m writing this so I’m sorry, Please injoy this fic, it will most likely be the last for a while. (You may continue sending asks just be warned I might not be able to get to it for a couple of reasons.)

With a heavy sigh you put aside your art peice, a stage mask that just wasn’t holding up to your standards. You’ve painted over your dried paint and wiped it off to many times to count already. Your hands had become shaky long ago as you sit at your desk that was in an obscure corner of the Opera house.

You push your chair back that gave a screech and sluggishly walked back to your small room in the Opera house. Thankfully it looks like none of your roommates are in the room which means you can properly relax and wind down. Most importantly in your mind, it means you can practice your cello without disturbing anyone.

Quickly you set up your space, adjusting your chair, setting up your music stand, making sure your bow has enough rosin. Flipping to your favorite cello peice you take a breath and start playing. Letting your fingers and how move on the strings fluently, you we’re getting entranced by your cello. Unknown to you, you weren’t the only one being entranced.

Somewhere deep in the Opera house, the Phantom can hear your playing faintly thanks to the echoing of the monumental walls. Intrigued, Erik quietly yet softly made his way to you until he could hear you clearly. Leaning against a wall he let his eyes shut and get wrapping up in your music, loving where you crescendoed and adding your own flare.

When you got to the end of the piece and pause your playing to find another to play, he finally peeked a look at you. He thought you would’ve been apart if the orchestra, but he didn’t recognize you, it also looked your your cello while well kept, was quite old to. Erik became very fascinated by you now, he started by “testing” you. Slipping new and harder pieces for you to try, and if you did play them he’d be happily surprised with how well you make the notes come to life.

Next, after you passed his “test”, he worked hard to see if he can find you a proper newer cello. Only the best for his new found talent, that day by day he was slowly falling for. The more he became infatuated with you he got more determined to find a cello to match your one of a kind soul.

After a while he did find a very good cello, a one of a kind, just for you. So, Erik made quick work to insure it’s yours. He personally polished and cleaned it, making sure no scratches were on the instrument. While you were working hard at your props job for the play, he made diligent work to set up the present in your new room. That of course was also a present from him. How could he let his musical muse share a room with a bunch of strangers?

Leaning the cello against the bedside table he placed a rose and a note next to it. Despite watching you for so long and being so devoted to you, he never got to the courage to say anything to you. Hopefully the grand presents will be a good first impression.

Groggily you walk back to your room, only to be told you don’t sleep there any more. Which after the long day you had of making props wasn’t good for your anxiety. As you followed the directions to your new room, you think about how you could’ve gotten on the bad side of someone to get an even more run down place to sleep in than what you have already had.

All of those thoughts quickly got washed away when you opened the door to your new room. It had everything you needed to live alone, a small kitchen/living room, a nice bedroom with a decent sized closet, even a space to practice your cello. You were so stunned at what you did to deserve this new room that you didn’t question how everything you own was already there.

Quickly, your eyes caught the sight of the luxurious cello next to your new bed. Gently you caressed it, looking over all of the fine details, it looked like a masterpiece that was specifically catered to you. The red rose next to the cello caught your eye next, along with the letter that had a skull stamp.

Carefully opening the letter you scanned the words, a mixture of your emotions sitting in your stomach as you read.

“My dear, I have heard you playing for a while now, and I must say the way you make the notes come to life is hauntingly stunning. You have caught my interest in the best way.

I know you haven’t seen me or heard me before, which is why I hope your new room and house warming gifts are a good first impression. If you wish, I can also arrange a seat for you in the opera’s orchestra so you don’t have to continue working in the messy arts department.

P.S. If it’s not to much to ask, I would like to hear back from you, so please consider us to be pen pals now. Also, if you ever need a quiet place to practice you can always come to my lair to whine down, maybe that way we can play music together.

~Yours devotedly O.G.”

A single thought ran through your mind as a mixture of unease and swooning butterflies ran through you…

What have you gotten yourself into?

[werewolf-girlfriend]

ive been enabled so let me share some of my thoughts on how to get ur art noticed online

if u want Engagement on ur posts then i believe that its critical to make people care about ur art. the easiest way to do this is to appeal to something they already care about, like fandom, aesthetics/subculture, current events, having fun (people love humor!). a harder but perhaps more fulfilling route is to talk about ur own ocs and projects enough until people start caring about them too

theres an infinite amount of topics people care about out there so id suggest picking something u already care about urself and channel ur art energy there. trying to make art for the most popular things out there regardless own interests is an exercise in misery, id advise against it..! if im allowed to get superstitious for a moment, i do believe that even untrained eyes can tell whether a piece of art was fun to work on or a chore. and besides! if ur having fun then its easier to create more, and the more u create the more chances ull have at getting lucky and having a post seen :)

on a very related note, art is a way to communicate ideas so the quality of the idea being presented in a piece of art is paramount to how popular a post will be. what i mean by this is that technical skill isnt the primary determinant of a posts popularity. if all your posts are portraits of original characters then people will have a hard time connecting with your posts and theyll keep scrolling, even if those portraits are masterpieces! the major exception to this is probably other artists, who ive found usually have a greater appreciation for the technical side of art (we can only speculate as to why..!)

lemme finish by saying that making popular posts and being good at art are two entirely different skillsets, ive seen many incredibly skilled artists with jack shit for notes because they dont give people a reason to care about their stuff NOT TO MENTION its a huge game of luck whether a post will get seen. so dont go insane in pursuit of recognition!

(i dont want to make this post too long so ive included examples from my own art and their note counts with my analysis after the break)

hello and welcome to the extracurricular segment to this post :) i bring yall two pieces from my art blog @werewolf-artfriend:

here we have a portrait of my fursona that im still proud of and a sketch suggesting "what if sniffers (from minecraft) were the size of mountains?" (let it be noted that the sniffer sketch was posted right during the minecraft mob vote = peak interest in the subject of sniffers).

the portrait at the time of writing has a crisp 30 notes, whilst the sniffer sketch has over 2000 notes. from the same artist, on the same blog, posted only a few months apart. i believe this is a good example both of the power of a piece of art having an interesting idea at its core AND of a piece appealing to the interests of the masses

this is of course just two convenient example posts, but i have experienced fan art of popular topics getting thousands of notes a couple of times now, amidst my other furry shit that these days get around 200-300 notes in comparison

this may sound like a really long winded way of saying "fan art make the world go round" but i just want to point out the nuances that

1) it matters what u make fan art of: if a fandom is small or dormant (waiting on new canon content for example) then clearly less people will be excited about the fan art you make. dont expect 10k notes on ur post if the average recent post in the fandom gets around 200 etc etc

2) it doesnt have to be fan art! ive also had some of my bird art get thousands of notes because people simply like birds :) and this applies to ANY topic people care about! the world rly is your oyster on this one

anyway i think ive started rambling dhgdjhgd thanks if u read this far! i hope i got my point across! and if ur feeling down about ur art not being seen then just keep at it okay! keep creating and keep having fun! keep sharing ur ideas and perspectives with the world and ur audience will eventually find u! i love you!

[legend-the-dumb-jock]

@fatisthenewshape is in charge !!

“Omg I can’t believe how boring his life is. I know he told me before that his life was nothing but I didn’t expect it to be this bad.” Finishing up the paper work from the most boring job ever I pushed my chair in. I wonder what he’s doing in Paris right now. Sure therapy wasn’t intentional but it happened somehow and now I knew I was in his American body. Right when I was about to walk out of the office I heard my email go off. I went back to check and it was yet again another down sizing. Me being good at this job of his wasn’t on the list hit it just meant his boring job was about to get more boring !!

I screamed looking at that computer. “I can’t take this shit anymore!” I slammed the door shut to the office and on the way home grabbed some beer. In the apartment that night I just stared at the glow of the tv. I was only on my first beer and I was already feeling sleepy. I didn’t want to be in this body anymore. This life was so boring !! It was so much more fun when we just talked about transfo….. I sat tight yo on the couch. Maybe this was a way to really live a transformation. Maybe this was the chance I had to really make a change. Pulling up his tumblr account i reread everything he posted. I didn’t realize how many different changes he had written about. But needless to say after couple hours I have decided on the changes I would make. Closed my computer I walked back to the living room and opened up another beer.

It was a couple months of my new ambitious beer drinking that I finally had a beer gut. He has written so many stories about having one that it was odd he didn’t actually have one. This was my first change I was going to make to him. And now here I am. Rubbing this big gut while I’m walking out of this office for the last time. It was now time for me to go onto the next phase of my plan. Destroying his education was right up his ally. He always talked about being dumb. And a dog. Well he needed a job that would fit that role.

I managed to get a job at a Construction site. The work was hard and labor intensive. I sweat all day and I smelled like crazy. But I kept drinking my beers and continuing on the path that I had set for him.

Making so much less made my next changes a little hard. One of the things he fantasized about clearly was tattoos and I wanted to make sure he had them. But the massive decrease in pay from the corporate world made it hard. I started asking some of my coworkers about the I tattoos and before I knew Indians out they was an artist and was offering to give me some at a discount

It was long before I was making daily visits to get as much ink as possible on his body. I was loving how fast his body was getting covered in tattoos. And the looks that people were giving. I was soon looking like a walking piece of graffitied skin. I began to do other things. Like adding gauges to hjs ears. One I had them completely obliterated to the point of now return I knew that his physical changes had to come to a close.

For the next part in his journey I decided to delve deeper into one of his stories tropes that he wrote about alot. Problem was that I wasn’t willing to do any of the work. I found myself on the dark web one night and with a couple thousand dollars and his social security number it wasn’t long before the stranger had logged into the federal system and began to add charge after charge to his record. Drugs, possession, firearms. He was making this man a low life thug criminal and now there was nothing he would be able to do about it. He would be able to find the chat rooms or anything to get this resolved. I even perfected his signature and sending a copy to the stranger online he used that to validate the claims of all the charges he was placing on this body. We even managed to invalidate his college degrees and even high school degree. Now he was a high school drop out who went down the path of being a hard criminal. It wasn’t long before his face was being seen all over tv. Armed and dangerous. I was now living the body of a wanted man just like in those stories he wrote. It was t long before the police came and aggressively arrested me. And I just smirked. Bring in prison was going to be the utmost change to his life that would be able to make. And from the sounds of it. With all the charges I had managed to get on his record, he was going to be here for several years. Especially after I admitted to everything for him.

[phantasmiafxndom]

Out of all the animes you’ve watch what ones are your favorites

...you know what, you get the serious answer. I used to track my anime watching, so out of the 450+ completed ones on my list, here are some of my top recommendations! (In terms of quality, more so than what I've spent the most time dwelling on.)

. . .

One Piece — I haven't technically watched all of this one, but after falling back into the fandom after an 8-ish year break, I really can't understate the quality. One Piece's story is amazing, and I'm consistently impressed by the author's characters/worldbuilding.

Dominion Tank Police (1988) — I have FEELINGS about the villain in this one... Overall, 80s sci-fi vibes mix with themes of ethical responsibility and societal peacekeeping, and the "don't you just want to go apeshit? :)" protagonist (who's also extremely aromantic-coded) is a hilarious, yet wonderfully earnest little menace!

Kyousougiga — I've been rewatching this one recently, and the sheer detail in every scene is STUNNING. I keep having to pause to mentally scream about the symbolism, and tbh, knowing the plot from my original watch is only improving the experience.

Tekkon Kinkreet — This one's a movie, not a series, but SKLJKHS IT HAUNTS ME. Absolutely chilling, by the time the big plot twists roll around... Beyond that, the overall aesthetic/vibe is impeccable, and the exaggerated, messy art style only adds to that.

Kemonozume — Monster/human forbidden romance with stunning art and a great soundtrack. The plot started out a bit confusing, but all of the scattered story elements came together nicely in the end!

The Tatami Galaxy — The "get your shit together and start enjoying your life" anime. It's plenty good as just a story, but I got some excellent life lessons out of it too. Solid mix of comedy, drama, and charismatic-yet-extremely-bizarre characters interacting.

Monster — Excellent slow-paced, psychological horror packed with ethical dilemmas, traumatic backstories, and so many Extremely Depressed Men. In other words, there's a very good reason why Johan Liebert used to end up on so many "best anime villains" lists.

Paranoia Agent — I have nothing but praise for Satoshi Kon's work, in general, and Paranoia Agent has been my favorite of the ones I've seen so far. Compared to his movies, it really benefits from the extra space for plot development, and the big emotional twist hits hard.

Revolutionary Girl Utena — A true classic. <3 There are enough tumblr essays about this tragic yuri masterpiece that I won't go into detail myself, but yes, it's every bit as good as you've heard.

Black Lagoon: Roberta's Blood Trail — The entire Black Lagoon series is excellent, but Roberta is my special girl. Unfortunately, the OAV adaption compresses the manga's version of her arc pretty heavily (and the altered ending is kind of dumb), but I still have to recommend it. Babygirl's breakdown is a REAL mess kjshghs

Claymore — Excellent pseudo-medieval fantasy with badass female characters, lots of body horror, and top-tier monster design. The manga is MUCH better than the anime after a certain point, however.

Kuuchuu Buranko — An episodic series about an eccentric psychiatrist interacting with his troubled patients. The mixed-media animation style and bizarre characters are what sold it for me, along with the exploration of mental health through storytelling tropes.

Cannon Fodder — An artistic short movie that's twenty minutes of aesthetic experience and fascinating worldbuilding implications. I love the vibe, and the "one, long horizontal frame" style is neat.

Flowers of Evil — The art style. The VIBES. The whole thing is incredibly eerie and off-putting, with a plot that's pretty much: "congrats! two shitty teenagers are tearing each other's lives apart!".

[tamelee]

I love your artwork, it's so cool! I'm an amateur in art, do you have any tips? Thank you!

Thank you so much! 💕 And sure! (Have you seen my other posts as well?) It’s a bit easier when it’s more specific >< But I’ll try my best; 

- Keep notes about the things you want to learn as you draw! Someone gave me a tip to have an art-goal so you know what to work on and then improve these particular things as you go, but for some reason I found it really hard to set these goals? (Am I the only one?) I kept thinking I just wanted to ‘improve’ everything, but that’s not very tangible and I can’t effectively measure whether I’ve succeeded… (it’s also not always easy to see your own improvements… at least I rarely can ><) 

But when you draw and you come across these little things that make you go “hm, I wish this was easier” or “I really love this sketch I made, but I’m not sure how to go about coloring it”, anything like that— then your desires regarding your art or your process become a lot more specific, right? Write these down! What specifically would you like to improve on?

I’ve noticed for myself and many others talked about it as well that once a piece is done, it’s like you forget a lot about the process and your mind is set on a new project. (Also, yay! You were in the zone~) You can either use your current project as practice (all of them are in a sense, really) or start a new one later, research what you need (on YouTube, books, or perhaps a course from an artist you really like if you can afford it) and work on your goal! 

- Also keep notes for any ideas you may have. We always think we’ll remember something and then we don’t. These sudden, often spontaneous glimpses you receive seemingly out of nowhere can be some of your best and it’s a shame if they fade back into the void. This also applies to anything that inspires you.. it can really be anything. I think I’ve said this before, but if you do this, try and organize a bit. Otherwise you’ll end up with a bunch of notes that’s more overwhelming than anything else. 

You can use folders to keep images, notes, a dedicated Notion page perhaps or if you can afford it, keep an extra external SSD for this. 

- Well, this also applies to research or video’s you’d like to watch. If you end up with too many tutorials or books, or they aren’t goal-oriented specific to your art desire, it may get really hard to get you started on something. If you’re like me and it’s hard to focus, I’d highly recommend taking some time to sit back, think about the thing you really want, organize and structure a way towards it and go. That way you don’t have to make all these decisions along the way— you know what to do already, it’s written right there!

- And that also applies to tools and brushes xD I know it’s really fun to download all of it because many are free and what if there’s ever a time you may need this specific texture on a brush? What if you can’t get this style that inspired you with the brushes you already have? But truth is, you don’t need them all and if you do, you’ll notice there are many you won’t even touch. And well… as you can see in my art as well, apart from the pencil ones, it doesn’t necessarily encourage consistency if that’s what you strive for. If you want to practice, most often the basic round brush will do, the less opacity or blend, the more you can practice shapes and clarity. In that case I’d stay away from the airbrush whenever possible. 

- Depending on the program you use (CSP has their own), you can use these to help you with facial angles, or this if you rather prefer a basic skull. You can use the site if you can’t get the angles quite right for many things. 

- For coloring I highly recommend James Gurney’s articles or book ‘color and light a guide for the realistic painter’, even if you’re not a realistic painter, it still contains most (all?) of what you need to know about color.

- A great way to experiment is to just… open a blank document and do whatever. I know it often feels like you have to draw something (preferably something good), but you can actually learn a lot by just scrabbling away. Here’s also often where you find the things you feel like you need to improve. Certain angles are especially hard for me, but I hadn't known that if I didn't try >< Oh, I also found this site by accident and I haven't read it all, but it covers many subjects! Hope these are helpful! 🌷

[eddieloverr]

Forbidden Love ( Eddie Munson x Female Reader)

Series summary; You need to prove you can dump a guy in 10 days, Eddie needs to prove he can make a girl fall in love with him in 10 days. The clock is ticking, what could possibly go wrong?

Authors note; This is my first fan-fic series so I'm pretty excited to publish this & please ignore any errors if you spot any, I've tried my best to revise and edit any errors I saw. If you couldn't tell by the summary, this series is heavily inspired/based off the movie 'How to Lose a Guy in Ten Days'. I will be adding my own scenes and this will have smut in the later chapters so please, 18+ only. I really do enjoy feedback so if you'd like to say something, please do! :) On that note, enjoy this little series! - Jess <3

Chapter word count; 6.2k

Chapter warnings; Mentions of sex, mentions of death ( believe that's all, only read if you're 18+)

Comments, feedback, and reblogs are very appreciated!

"God, Nancy, I busted my ass in grad school to be this magazines "How to" girl and write articles like, 'How to know what color looks best on you' or 'How to use the best pickup lines.'"

"I want to write about things that actually matter, like politics and the environment, the earth - things I'm interested in, things I want to write."

It's true, you worked hard to get into a magazine like this. More to get a name for yourself, to get more offers and opportunities for your writing career. You wanted to write about stuff that mattered, stuff that you cared about, not about shoes or clothes.

"Keep busting your ass, you'll get there." Nancy replied as she gave you a tight lip smile. "Hey, I've got something to help cheer you up.. you know that guy from sports illustrated that you've been recklessly flirting with on the phone for like whooo, a month now? He made a very special delivery this morning." She said, holding up and waving what seemed to be a piece of paper while smirking at you.

"Oh, ha ha, let me see." You then replied, trying to snatch whatever she was waving in the air.

"Don't- no!" She practically yelled, attempting to hide the piece of paper in her hand.

"Hey!" You eventually got it and looked at your now tickets for a basketball game you always end up watching on tv. "Whoooo! Tomorrow night" This was exciting. Guess your 'reckless flirting' paid off.

"What happens tomorrow night?" Nancy said while smirking even more now.

"Only the most exhilarating and artistic display of athletic competition known to mankind."

"The lce Capades are in town?" She questioned.

"No, the NBA Finals are in town, and l got tickets!" You said loudly for your other coworkers to hear. "Nance, come with me?"

"All right, i'll go. But l am not putting out." She said, eying you up and down.

"Oh, please nance two stale jumbo dogs and a couple of beers, you'll be whistling a different tune." You said seductively while walking to your office right next to hers. Only a couple of little grey walls separating your small workplaces apart.

"You know what l like." she smiled.

"Ohhh mmmmwah" you sent a kiss her way.

"Good morning, ladies. Don't forget, staff meeting in 30 minutes." Your very nosy and slightly annoying coworker, Michelle, says as she walks by. Only a couple offices down and you can still hear her loud gossiping.

You and Nancy exchange a look as she walks away. Yep, Michelle was definitely made for this business.

"Robin, I haven't seen her all morning. Have you?" you asked. Robin, your best friend, going all the way back to college. She was your assigned roommate, who knew all it took was for her to spill soda all over your white rug and start rapidly apologizing to form an unbreakable friendship. Ever since then you'd bonded, especially since you both had a passion for writing and were pursuing a degree in that field. Obviously a magazine wasn't a first choice - hell not even a choice at all but this would open many opportunities for you and Robin and you both just couldn't pass up on it.

"Ten to one she's wallowing."

"l'll get her, you get the coffee and meet me in the corner in 20." You said rushing towards the door.

"Wait, Wait, Wait." Nancy shouted as she reached below her desk and pulled out a black bag and stuffed it with samples scattered all over her space.

"Take some samples." She said as she handed them to you.

"Samples! Great idea." You smiled at her, rushing out of there.

"Oh boy. Drama, drama, drama." Nancy said to herself as she stood up, grabbed her purse and also made her way out of the office area.

You rushed down the stairs, grabbed a shirt off a clothing rack that Robin would definitely like and made your way out towards the apartment you shared with Robin.

─────────────────────────

Arriving at his designated workplace. Of course this wasn't even a choice for him, if you asked the old Eddie where he'd see himself in a couple years he'd most likely reply with "Traveling the world with my band" or "Living out the rockstar dream". He'd never thought he'd be an advertising executive. It was either this in the big city of Indianapolis or a cashier at a local gas station back in Hawkins.

How could he turn down this job though? Steve, his best friend, who also happens to be one of his coworkers, talked to his dad, basically begging to let Eddie have a job given Steve's dad owns the business.

Luckily, although it took a lot of convincing, Steve's dad finally gave in and offered Eddie a job to work alongside Steve.

Eddie's grateful towards Steve for the opportunity, it helped him get enough cash to stop dealing, move out of his uncle's trailer, and move to Indianapolis to his own apartment.

Life was great for Eddie, he has a decent job, great friends, he even traded his rusty old van for a much better motorcycle. Everything was going well but yet he longed for something more.

"Hello Eddie." Chrissy, Eddie's coworker said as she walked past him parking his motorcycle not even sparing him a second glance

"Hey, hey, good morning, Cunningham" Eddie replied, now getting off his motorcycle and walking towards Chrissy. Who's now reading a magazine.

"What are you reading, girl? You catching up on your current events? ''Turn-On Tricks: How to Make Him Hot.'' You know, if you want to try those out sometime, we should get together." he said jokingly.

"Victoria and l have an appointment at Composure, the fastest growing magazine in the country, and seeing as how our clients run a lot of our campaigns in their nationally-syndicated little girlie magazine, it wouldn't hurt you to do a little reading."

As if on cue, "Hey Eddie" Victoria said as she walked out the building towards Chrissy and himself.

"Good morning, Victoria"

"You finally decided to show up today?" She asked.

"Yes I did."

"You ready?" Victoria asked Chrissy.

"Ready. Later Eddie." Chrissy said as both of Eddie's coworkers walked towards a taxi.

"Have a nice day, ladies." He said walking into the building.

─────────────────────────

You knocked on your apartment door, since you knew Robin was home there was no need to search for your key.

"Hi!" Robin said, laughing nervously as she opened the door. You could tell Robin was holding back her tears. You knew her better than yourself and it hurt seeing her like this.

"Oh.." She said as she started sobbing the closer you walked in.

"Good morning, sunshine. Don't cry, go get dressed. Staff meeting, 15 minutes. Let's go" You said as you walked by her to open the living room curtains. As much as you wanted to comfort her you knew she would turn into a sobbing mess if you started asking questions. You only had 15 minutes and getting her ready for her job seemed better than for her to be heartbroken and jobless.

"l'm going back to bed. l have no reason to live." Robin said as she jumped on her bed pulling the covers up.

"Sun's out. Oh..." You said as you walked towards the table and grabbed the little black bag that Nancy handed you.

"Okay, just..." She stopped talking as she harshly blew on her nose with a handkerchief.

"Okay, now..." you said as you sat down on her bed and tossed her the shirt you grabbed on your way home.

"Cashmere?" She asked with a slight smile on her face. You knew she'd like it.

"Put it on. It'll make your eyes look fiercely blue." You smiled at her.

"Oh!" She said as she clutched the shirt tighter to her chest.

"Get up Robin. l'm not going to let you lose your job on top of everything else."

"Oh." she said as if she was on the verge of tears.

"Come here." you extended your arms to pull her in for a hug.

"Oh, Y/N." she got up and pulled you into a tight hug.

"Okay." you said.

"Okay." she replied.

"You only dated the girl for a week."

"It was the best week of my life." She said as she bursted into tears.

"Sweetheart." you squeezed her tighter.

─────────────────────────

"Good morning, Ladies! What's up, Jonathan." Eddie greeted as he walked by his coworkers' offices, making his way towards his own office he shared with Steve.

"What's up, kitty cat?" Eddie said to Steve as he walked into their shared office, towards his side of the room.

"What's up, daddy? Big night?" Steve asked as he removed his headphones.

"Not bad." Eddie said as he placed down his helmet on the side of his desk.

"Orgy?" Steve asked.

"Where were you man?" Eddie snorted.

"Not at an orgy." Steve said as he walked to Eddie's desk.

"Did you hear?" Jonathan asked as he suddenly walked into the room.

"What, that my Knickerbockers are now in the championship series and Jonny 'the bone' here owes me 20 bucks?" Eddie said as he removed his leather jacket.

"Pay him." Steve said to Jonathan.

"Oh, man. Well, you were right. DeLauer Diamonds is looking for a new ad agency. Mr. Harrington wants to move on it aggressively." Jonathan said as he pulled out a 20 and gave it to Eddie.

"Yes! Oh, this is a good day. This is a good day! Guys, did you know that diamonds are about as common as taxis on Fifth avenue?" Eddie said as he pulled off his black Metallica shirt to put on a more work appropriate shirt. He felt eyes on him outside his office, probably his other female coworkers he always catches staring at him. It still surprises him that he somehow turned his title from "Freak" to "Ladies man."

"The value is entirely sentimental, maintained by a supply, demand and advertising." Eddie said as Jonathan showed him two shirts to choose from.

"Stripes." Eddie said, pointing to a striped shirt and catching it as Jonathan threw it at him.

"Now, DeLauer dominates the world diamond market. Meaning if l represent them, l basically represent the entire industry." Eddie said as he flicked a little ad of Mrs. DeLauer.

Steve and Jonathan then gave each other a look and muttered something only for them to hear.

"What?" Eddie asked.

"My dad gave it to the judys." Steve said.

"Chrissy and Victoria, they're already on it." Jonathan added.

"No way!" Eddie said disappointed.

"Yeah, well, you know, Mr. Harrington is kind of partial to hot leggy chicks, for some reason." Jonathan said as he looked towards Eddie who was now looking out the glass window at the three girls who were staring this whole time. They quickly looked away as Eddie gave them a glance.

"Yeah, we're the, you know, the sneakers and beer division. Precious gems aren't exactly our forte." Jonathan added.

Eddie, who was now fully clothed, pointed to the window as he made his way towards the door "Lips and Hips are over at a chick's magazine right now. I gotta get to Mr. Harrington before they sink-"

Jonathan got in the way of the door before Eddie could walk out "You can't. You can't. He's on a plane."

"Easy pal, my dads at a Chicago meeting." Steve said as he patted Eddie's shoulder and slightly pushed him back.

"And it's too late anyway 'cause Mr. Harrington's meeting them for drinks at Mullin's tonight to discuss their idea-"

"This isn't happening. You know why?" Eddie said, interrupting Jonathan.

"This was my tip. It's gonna be my pitch, my account, my campaign. This is my baby." Eddie said with determination.

"That's what I'm talking about." Said Steve.

"They will not ace me outta this." Eddie said as he fist pumped Steve and Jonathan.

"I heard that!" Jonathan added.

"Okay.. Mullins tonight." Eddie confirmed as he walked back towards his desk.

"I heard that!!" Steve mocked Jonathan.

─────────────────────────

You walked out the taxi and walked towards the other side to Robin blowing her nose and Nancy running towards you both with coffees in her hand.

"Hi!" Nancy greeted Robin as she handed her a coffee.

"Hi. I don't really wanna talk about it okay?" Robin replied as she discarded the handkerchief in her purse and closed the taxi door.

"Okay." Nancy replied, handing you your coffee.

"Okay." Robin replied as you three walked towards the entrance of your work before stopping abruptly.

"Why does this always happen to me?" Robin said as she started tearing up again. "Things are going great for like a week and a half, and then all of a sudden it's over and I am mystified. Seriously, I am mystified because it always starts out so well." She rambled as she walked away from you both and towards the entrance.

"Poor baby." Nancy said as you both tried to catch up with Robin.

"Let's just roll with this" You said.

"Vickie and I had such a connection." Robin said as she stopped again in front of the entrance and turned to face you both.

"The first time that we had sex... it was so beautiful, I cried." She smiled and walked away into the building.

"You cried?" Nancy asked as you both tried to catch up with her again.

"Yeah."

"You mean like one glistening year on your cheek, right?" You asked now side by side with your best friend walking towards an elevator.

"No, I was really emotional. I even told her that I loved her." She said.

"After how many days?" You asked.

"Five.. Two. It was how I felt. I just wanted to express myself. You know how my brain and mouth work."

"Okay. Well, what did she say?" You asked.

"Oh, Vickie didn't have to say anything. I know that she felt the same. But then she started getting really busy and I didn't know where she was. I kept calling her, and calling her but she was never home."

"You kept calling her?" You asked looking into her eyes with a "Really robin?" look.

"I didn't leave a message. She didn't know it was me.. my numbers blocked."

The elevator dinged and you all walked toward the opening doors.

"Oh. I'm.. I'm sure she thought it was one of her friends." Nancy said as you all walked into the elevator.

"Anyway I know why she dumped me. I'm too fat."

"You're not fat!"

"You're not fat!" You and Nancy said in sync as the elevator doors closed.

─────────────────────────

Arriving at your floor, the three of you walked into the doors and towards the staff meeting in your bosses office.

"Robin, if the most beautiful woman in the world acted the way you did, any normal partner would still go running in the other direction." You said.

"Oh, no. Nobody would go running from you, Y/N. You could barf all over them and they would say 'Do it again.'" Robin replied.

"That is both incredibly disgusting and categorically untrue. If I did the things you did, I'd get dumped too." You said as you three entered your bosses office and sat in the main area's couch, joining all your other coworkers.

"Okay, family, shoes off..." Your boss Linda entered the room and sat in a chair that faced everybody. Your coworkers, including yourself, proceeded to remove their shoes. "And breathe." She said as everybody inhaled.

"And out." Everybody exhaled.

"Okay Michelle let's start with you." Linda said.

"Well, the "Botox For Beginners" piece is done. Now, it's a little scary, but mostly upbeat. Now I'm on "What your Gyno Won't Tell You," which is also pretty scary but you know, upbeat. I finished my research on "deadly pedicures," about the woman who contracted that fungus from the unsterilized tools. It's a terrible story.. although surprisingly..." Michelle looked towards her boss and noticed her "terrible story" mistake.

"Upbeat." Nancy finished.

"Marvelous. What's next for "How-To with Y/N?" Linda asked. Now all eyes were on you.

"Well, I've been working on something that's kind of different." You said as your boss nodded confused.

"It's.. it's a political piece and it's-"

"No. Y/N. you work at Composure magazine. We are fashion, trends, diets, cosmetic surgeries, salacious gossip, that's Composure." Linda said.

"Okay, but-"

"Look, Y/N, okay. The column is new for you. When you turn it into a must read then you can write about whatever you want. Until then you can write about what I want. Understood?"

"Yeah." You said dissatisfied. You saw this coming. Your boss wouldn't let you write about what you wanted but hearing that once your column gets popular she'd let you write about whatever you wanted certainly catches your attention.

"Robin, what have you got?"

Nancy turned to Robin and gave her an encouraging nod. But there was an awkward silence waiting for Robin to answer.

"Um. I'm sorry, Linda. I wasn't feeling very well" Robin said as she looked at the ground not wanting to see the looks shared amongst others and the disappointed look on Linda's face.

"She got dumped." Nancy quickly added.

"Oh, no, Robin. What a hellish ordeal for you. But I gotta say, you are looking fabulous. Are we loving the way she looks?" Linda said, turning to the others trying to lift up the mood.

"We love the way she looks."

"Oh, you are so right."

"She looks great."

"She looks so great!"

Everyone said as they talked over one another.

"I haven't eaten since the split." Robin said.

"Good for you! Write about it."

You looked at your boss very judgmental. Obviously Robin feels uncomfortable throughout this entire conversation.

"I can't use my personal life for a story." Robin said as she lifted her head and was now looking at Linda.

"I understand completely... who will use Robin's personal life for a story?" Linda ignored Robin's protest and looked at the other workers.

"Oh I will." Michelle said proudly as she raised her hand.

"No, no, no! Linda, with all due respect, Michelle has no business mucking around in my personal life, and I can't... I can't let her. I'm-"

"I'll do it." You suddenly interrupted a rambling, distressed Robin. Of course you wouldn't actually put the heartbreak of your best friend's life in a magazine for the whole world to see but knowing Michelle and Linda, they obviously won't respect Robin's boundaries anytime soon.

Nancy and Robin both turned to you. "What?" Robin blurted out.

"I'll... I will sort of do it. It's- You will be my inspiration." You said looking at Robin.

"For?" Linda asked.

"Look at robin. She's a great girl, right?" You pointed towards Robin looking straight at your boss.

"Yes." Linda replied.

"An amazing woman." You said now looking at Robin. "But.. she has a problem hanging onto relationships and she doesn't really know what she's doing wrong, which is a lot like our readers."

"Uh-huh" Linda nodded for you to proceed.

"So, I was thinking that.. I could start dating a guy, and then drive him away, but only using the classic mistakes most women, like Robin.." You gave her a sincere look and turned back to your boss "make.. all the time. I'll keep a diary of it and.. it will be sort of a dating how-to in reverse." You said looking at Robin and Nancy who were now chuckling.

"What not to do." Your boss says smiling.

"Yeah." You smiled back.

"How to lose a guy in Ten Days." Linda said, looking at the wall, probably envisioning it in her head. "Yes. Go. Alice, what's new in the shoe?"

"Wait, wait, Linda. I'm sorry. Why ten days?" You asked.

"Five days is too short and we go to press at 11. Yes?" Linda turned her attention to Alice.

"Ten." You whispered to yourself. It's a lot longer than what you had hoped for given you only did this to save Robin from humiliation and to stop her from actually hiding under her covers for the rest of her life but then you remembered what Linda had said about you being able to write about whatever you wanted if your column made it big. Could this possibly be a ticket there?

You looked back at Robin and Nancy who nodded in approval and Robin mouthed the words "Thank you". You smiled at them with the big question flying around in your head. You were in for a long ride.

─────────────────────────

"Maybe toss in something spiritual as well." Linda said to Nancy walking towards the lobby with you and Robin right behind them.

"Ah, here's my ten o' clock. Welcome." Linda said as you all followed her as she walked towards a blonde and a brunette who seemed to be waiting for her.

"Hi." The blonde said with a smile.

"Ladies, Chrissy Cunningham and Victoria Green from Warren Advertising. We're going to cook up some fabulous tie-ins for the fall." Linda said, turning to you, Nancy, and Robin.

"Nancy Wheeler, Fashion and Trends. Robin Buckley, Fitness and Health." She said as Robin loudly blew her nose.

"Excuse me. Hi." Robin interrupted.

"And Y/N L/N our resident How-To girl." Linda continued.

"Oh, I've seen your column, Y/N. What are you working on now?" Chrissy said as she pointed at you.

"Oh-" You began but you were quickly interrupted by Linda.

"How to Lose a Guy in Ten Days. She's actually going to start dating a guy and then drive him away in a week and a half." Linda said proudly as her, Chrissy, and Victoria started laughing.

"Sounds needlessly vicious." Victoria added.

"It's going to be fabulous. Now all she has to do is run along and find the lucky guy." She said turning to you. "Go, go, go." She pointed towards the exit and turned back to the two girls.

You, Nancy, and Robin both started walking towards the exit.

"Nice to meet you." You said to the two girls.

"Ladies come." Linda said as all three of their footsteps started to reside.

You grabbed Robin's shoulder from behind. "Find the guy. Find the guy." You said distressed.

"Okay." you whispered to yourself.

─────────────────────────

"Oh you are never going to pull this off." Robin said as you, Nancy, and Robin walked across the street towards a bar, arms linked with Robin. Moonlight reflecting on your dresses and Robin’s suit.

You put on a cute grey dress with enough cleavage to be shown but to still keep the guys wondering what you looked like with your top off. Matched with high heels and a cute purse. Normally you wouldn't wear this out especially to a bar but tonight, you were on a man hunt.

"Watch me. Tonight I'll hook a guy. Tomorrow, pull the switch. Before the ten days are up, I'm gonna have this guy running for his life." You replied as all three of you laughed.

"You're not gonna burn his apartment down or bite him or anything, are you?" Nancy asked.

"No. I'm gonna limit myself to doing everything girls do wrong in relationships. Basically, everything we know guys hate. I'll be clingy, needy."

"Be touchy-feely." Nancy added.

"Yeah." You said walking towards the bar's entrance.

"Ooh. Call him in the middle of the night and tell him everything you had to eat that day." Nancy said as you both chuckled.

"What's wrong with that?" Robin asked, looking at you both. You both looked at her with concern.

"I'm.. kidding" She then said.

─────────────────────────

A waitress escorted Chrissy, Victoria, and Mr. Harrington towards a table.

"There we are. He's waiting." The kind waitress pointed at Eddie waiting for them at a table.

"Hello, Eddie. What are you doing here" Mr. Harrington asked.

"Tom, I'm here for the meeting. Ladies." Eddie replied as stood up, shaking Tom's hand and nodded towards the girls.

"But you weren't invited." Victoria said.

"Yeah, but I should have been. I mean, It was my tip that DeLauer was shopping for a new firm." Eddie said as he passed by Chrissy standing in front of Tom.

"Yes, it was, but I have to think in terms of who's best suited within the company." Tom said, looking at both Chrissy and Victoria.

"Yes, sir, and that's me. I wanna handle this pitch." Eddie replied as Chrissy chuckled.

"Eddie, you sell Joe Blow better than anyone else in my shop, including Steve, but these girls sell luxury better than anyone else in the business." Tom said proudly as he gestured towards both the girls.

All four of them sat down as Tom proceeded.

"We have to put our best foot forward on this pitch. DeLauer would be our biggest account."

"Yes, sir, they would. Annual advertising billings of 50 to 60 million dollars. And I am the man that's gonna bring this home for you, Tom." Eddie said as he poured himself a glass of champagne.

─────────────────────────

"Why this place?" Robin asked as you three entered the bar.

"Because it's perfect." You said grabbing onto Robin's shoulders and giving her a squeeze and walking further into the bar.

"Mullins is the apres-work watering hole for the upwardly mobile." Nancy added with her smart ass vocabulary.

─────────────────────────

"Now, to date, the diamond industry has always targeted men..." Eddie said as he poured champagne for Chrissy, Victoria, and Tom as he continued. "Sending the message that the woman needs the man to buy her the rock. All right, they say 'A diamond is forever.' We say, 'A diamond is for everyone.'"

"I like that." Tom said grinning towards Eddie.

"Yes." Eddie says confidently.

"Uh. We don't." Chrissy said laughingly. "'A diamond is for everyone?' It sends the message that diamonds are everywhere. Which means that they're not rare, and if they're not rare, they lose their status." Chrissy said while looking directly at Eddie.

Eddie rolled his eyes as Chrissy continued. "Status is the reason to buy them in the first place, which Edward would know if he understood women, which you don't." Chrissy finished as they all laughed at Eddie, including himself. Not because of what she said, but the fact that she's so confident with her words.

"You can't feel bad about that, Eddie. No man does." Tom said grinning.

─────────────────────────

"Here. Here." Robin said as she handed both you and Nancy a Martini.

"Dum, dum, dum, dum." Nancy mimicked a clock ticking while looking around the bar. You honestly forgot the real reason you were here for a second.

"Don't pressure her. She's perusing." Robin said, looking directly at Nancy.

"Yes, exactly." You said as all three of you scanned the room.

─────────────────────────

"Selling a diamond to a woman is like making her fall in love." Victoria said to Tom while dragging her fingers along her long diamond necklace starting from her neck to her cleavage.

Eddie scoffed but smiled at this knowing exactly what game Victoria was trying to play at.

"She has to feel giddy, desirous, adventurous and desperate." Victoria continued.

"Take a look around this room Tom. Most women in this bar are looking for just that." Chrissy added.

"Exactly. The skills required to market diamonds are the same as those needed to make a woman fall in love, yes." Eddie said, interrupting Chrissy.

"I'm not talking about lust Eddie. A woman in lust just wants chocolate. A woman in love wants diamonds."

"Yeah, I'm not talking about lust either, ladies. I'm talking about deep.. meaningful, head-over-heels, his-and-her towels, let's grow old together L-O-V-E. Look, I love women. I do. Whether they're four or 40."

Chrissy sighed at his little speech. Looking around the room she spots you.

"I respect women. All right. And I also listen to women." Eddie continued.

Chrissy's still staring at you. You're laughing at something your short hair friend said and she slowly gets an idea.

"And that's why I can sell myself to any woman.. anywhere, anytime." Eddie finished.

"Make a woman fall in love with diamonds, Edward.. or with you?" Chrissy asked, moving her attention from you to Eddie.

"Uh. Either one." Eddie replied slightly hesitating looking at Tom.

"That's cocky, Eddie." Tom said while drinking his champagne.

"No, not cocky. Confident."

Chrissy laughs at this. "I'd like to see you prove that." Chrissy said, raising her eyebrows at him.

"You would?" Eddie questioned looking at Chrissy then at Tom.

"The agency's co hosting a party for the DeLauers at the Astro museum. The party's a week from Sunday. Do you think you can make a woman fall in love with you by then?" Chrissy challenged Eddie.

"Ten days?" Eddie asked.

"Any woman, anywhere, anytime?" Victoria added mocking him from before.

"Any single, available, straight woman, yes." Eddie said.

"Yes. I'm not trying to trick you, Eddie. In fact, we'll choose a woman right here, right now in this bar. And then you'll decide." Chrissy said as Her, Victoria, and Tom laughed.

"So who's the lucky girl?" Eddie said as he adjusted himself in his seat to face the rest of the bar.

"Okay. Let's see here." Victoria began. "Ooh there's that blonde babe in the leopard print." Victoria said as she laughed and pointed to a woman with a messy pointy tail in a leopard dress that was worn out and way too tight on her.

Tom and Chrissy joined in on her laughter. "She looks like fun." Victoria added.

"Be nice, ladies." Eddie said as a little chuckle escaped his lips.

"Or, well, Miss Babylon 5. Now she's on the prowl." Victoria said talking about a curl headed curl with colored hair and mean stare.

"No. Her." Chrissy said.

"Her who?" Eddie asked as he turned to look at Chrissy.

"Her in the grey dress, cute hair, pretty smile." Chrissy added.

Eddie turned away from her looking around the bar for Chrissy's description, then he saw you. Laughing at something a curly headed girl next to you said. Eddie smiled as he saw you laughing.

"Her?" Victoria asked as she removed her gaze from you to Chrissy. Chrissy only held a finger to her mouth not sparing her a word.

Eddie was still staring at you, you're now laughing at something else another short haired girl says.

"Done." Eddie says not removing his gaze from you.

"What?" Chrissy asked.

"Done." He confirmed again, finally looking away from you and now looking at Tom.

"Done." Tom said as he nodded.

─────────────────────────

"See the guy next to the horrible guy in the green shirt that I would never even consider?" You said pointing at a guy with short curly hair, wearing a blue button up shirt with a black blazer over it.

"Very cute." Nancy said.

"Right? Good." You chuckled and squealed, making you way over to the cute stranger leaving Robin and Nancy together.

"Oh." Robin said as her and Nancy chuckled at your cute excitement.

─────────────────────────

"Okay, you're on. But here are the stakes. After I win this bet, this pitch is mine." Eddie said, looking at all three of them.

"Agreed." Chrissy added.

"Tom?" Questioned Eddie.

"Agreed." Tom said as he nodded. "You come to that party with a girl that's really in love with you, Eddie, you can make the pitch to the DeLauers."

"But, Tom, you can't-" Victoria was cut off by Tom.

"Nope. I've made up my mind." Tom said, raising his glass. "To the DeLauers."

"To the DeLauers." Eddie said, clinking his beer bottle to Tom's glass.

"Cheers" Chrissy and Victoria said, raising their own glasses towards Eddie's bottle and Tom's glass.

─────────────────────────

Nancy and Robin are laughing at how adorable you look laughing at whatever bad joke the guy next to you said.

"I was just wondering if you found..." You said talking to the cute stranger next to you making eye contact with your friends.

"She doesn't seem that interested." Robin said to Nancy who only hummed in reply.

"Exciting." You said looking at the guy in front of you.

"Yes. My wife and I love Indianapolis, especially this time of year." Oh shit, he has a wife. How did you not notice the ring on his finger? What do you do? What do you do?

"She'd been here before and I-" He'd been cut-off by a brunette wearing a pink and white dress grabbing onto his shoulder giving you the smile.

"Hi. Hi." She said, now showing her pearly whites.

You felt so awkward and wanted to leave.

"This is Y/N" The guy introduced you to his wife.

"Hi. Um." You said standing up while grabbing your martini. While his wife took the spot you were just leaning on. "You guys enjoy Indianapolis." You said slowly backing away.

"Okay." The guy said chuckling

"Thanks" The wife said straightforwardly.

"Nice meeting you." The guy said as you walked away, not even passing them a second glance.

Walking away, you glanced at your friends who were already staring at you, presumably the entire time, you mouthed "he's married" holding up your hand.

─────────────────────────

"Good luck." Tom said, patting Eddie's shoulder as he walked by him.

"Thank you, Tom." Eddie said as he left, leaving him with Chrissy and Victoria. Eddie took out a 50 and put it on the table paying for their drinks. "Now if you'll excuse me, ladies.. I have a bet to win." Eddie said, turning around and immediately looking for you.

"Ta-ta" Chrissy said as Eddie walked away.

"Now do you wanna tell me what's going on?" Victoria asked Chrissy.

"You don't recognize her?" Chrissy asked as they both stared at you.

─────────────────────────

Eddie pushed himself through the sea filled with people and began walking towards you. He smiled when he could finally reach you.

─────────────────────────

"Hi!" A man with long black curly hair walked up to you, stopping you in your tracks. He had bangs that framed his face perfectly and was wearing black jeans with a black blazer to pair it.

"Hi." You replied back with a slight smile.

"Hi." He said looking at the top of your head to your eyes. He had the biggest pair of brown eyes you'd ever seen.

You chuckled and waited for him to say something but he only chuckled back. He was obviously nervous so you tried to make it less awkward. You extended your hand with the little space that was between you both.

"Y/N L/N"

"Eddie Munson" He said as he gently took his hand in yours and shook it.

"Cute."

"Thank you." Eddie replied.

"Mm I meant your name." You said, offering him a closed smile. He looked away and smiled when he looked at you again.

"Thank you two times."

"Unattached?" You asked.

"Currently." He answered.

"Likewise."

"Surprising."

"Psycho?" You questioned.

"Rarely."

"Hmm."

"Interested?" Eddie asked.

"Perhaps." You looked away but then looked back at him.

"Hungry?"

"Starving." You said looking deep in his chocolate eyes.

"Leaving?"

"Now?" You asked.

"Mm-hmm."

"Okay."

"Okay." He replied.

"One second." You said pointing a finger and walked past him.

"I'll meet you at the door." He said loudly.

─────────────────────────

"Hey, guys." You said now standing in front of Nancy and Robin

"I think I got one."

"He was married!" Robin said.

"No, not him. It's the guy by the door. But don't look!" It was already too late, their eyes were scanning the door. "No, guys!"

Eddie smiled at your friends who were both staring right at him.

"He is really cute." Nancy said as they both looked at you again.

"I'm gonna check this one out and see if he's the keeper." You said as you handed Nancy your martini.

"Okay." Nancy replied.

"And if he is?" Robin questioned.

"Tomorrow night I'll.."

"Flip the switch" Nancy finished your sentence as she took a sip of your martini.

"I'm doing this for you." You said directly to Robin handing her your apartment keys

"Well, good luck. Be safe. Call me!" Robin said as you walked towards Eddie.

"Mm. Drama, drama, drama." Nancy said as her and Robin watched Eddie gently hold you by the waist and open the door for you.

Chrissy and Victoria, on the other side of the bar, were also watching the entire interaction and smirking at one another, clinking their glasses together knowing that you and Eddie were both secretly playing each other and how badly this was bound to end.

Authors note; If you enjoyed this please leave some feedback and consider reblogging! It would meant a lot. Thank you so much for reading! <3

[kueble]

Sweet on the Vine (Like Strawberry Wine)

Here is something that is only (slightly!) late for last year’s @witchersummercamp. Oops. My original artist backed out, and I managed to convince the amazing @mysticcoyoteart to work with me.  They created Jaskier’s look, which I fell in love with.  Please make sure to check out the art here.

Teen. Warnings: None. 2,000 words

Geralt/Jaskier

---

Retirement has turned out to be a little too relaxing, so Geralt hardly puts up a fight when Jaskier suggests they head into Beauclair for the Strawberry Festival.  Normally he’d do anything in his power to avoid a town full of drunken partygoers, but it turns out looking after a winery is a bit boring, especially since Barnabas-Basil does all the heavy lifting anyway.

Now, though?   Now he wonders what the fuck he was thinking.  The streets are packed with bodies, and the hot summer sun isn’t doing anyone any favors.   Geralt lets Jaskier lead him through the crowd, their fingers threaded together in an easy way that still makes his heart flutter, and leans in to inhale the sweet citrus scent of his lover’s perfume.  It calms something deep inside of him, and suddenly the crowd doesn’t seem so boisterous.

Jaskier - as always - is dressed to impress, not to blend in with the crowd.  Geralt remembers watching him flit about the tailor’s shop months ago, already looking for an outfit that would help him stand out.  He walked up to Geralt with a bolt of pink and strawberry printed fabric, his eyes bright and a pout already firmly in place, and Geralt knew they’d pay whatever the man asked for it.

Now he looks stunning, the petal pink fabric hanging off his curves in a dress that somehow manages to be both fitted and loose all at the same time. It’s hard not to get lost in the sharpness of Jaskier’s chest compared to the flowy fabric as it swishes around his heels.  Though they have nowhere pressing to be, so Geralt indulges himself and lets his eyes linger on his lover as he leads him through the growing crowds.

The city is one big colorful bustle, festival goers crammed into every nook and cranny.  They spend the morning darting between the vendor booths, Geralt tagging along after Jaskier like a lost puppy.  It’s hard to rein in the bard, and even more so when so many crafters have their best wares on display.  Jaskier flits between the stalls, his elegant fingers picking up one piece of jewelry after the other before bemoaning the fact that he can’t buy them all.

Geralt manages to distract him with a booth full of writing journals and doubles back to one of the jewelers.  The woman seems to expect his return and smiles before holding out the ring Jaskier had been fawning over.  Geralt manages to talk her down in price a bit, but his coin purse is still left much lighter.  But as he pictures the delicate silver band and its large opal resting on one of Jaskier’s fingers, he knows the purchase was worth it.

He sidles up next to Jaskier without missing a beat, and Jaskier appears to have been lost in the journals the entire time.  He holds up a couple of options - both eerily similar - so Geralt just points at the one on the right.  It seems to placate him, and Jaskier grants him a warm smile before turning to pay the vendor.

Once the noonday sun rises, the sound of Jaskier’s belly growling calls them both to lunch.  His cheeks are flushed pink - sheepish looks good on him - and Geralt just rolls his eyes before herding him towards the food tents.  They split a couple of chicken and venison meat pies, and even Geralt has to admit that the savory crust is the best he’s had in years.

—

“Oh, you have just got to try this, love,” Jaskier mumbles around a mouthful of berries.  The red juice trails down his chin, and there is a dab of clotted cream in the corner of his mouth, and Geralt can’t help leaning in to teasingly lick it away.  Jaskier jumps, squealing against Geralt, but he’s grinning when they pull apart,

“Tastes delightful,” Geralt says with a smirk.  Jaskier just snorts before dipping another strawberry into the cream and holding it up in front of him.  Geralt leans in and closes his mouth around the treat, eyes closing on their own as the sweetness bursts across his tongue.  He chews slowly, savoring the decadent taste of berry mixed with the sugary cream.

Never say Toussaint doesn’t know how to throw a festival.

“Want another?” Jaskier asks, but they don't have a lot of extra funds and Geralt would rather watch him enjoy the strawberries than eat them himself.

“Not really one for sweets,” he mumbles, and Jaskier shoots him a knowing look before popping the last berry in his mouth.

“Thank you, dear,” he says with his mouth full of fruit, and Geralt snorts before leading him towards the mead tent.  Certainly they have enough coin left to slay his thirst.

—

As soon as Geralt hears the band, he knows he’s about to be dragged into a dance.  Decades ago, he might have refused, probably would have stomped his foot and held his ground and missed out on seeing the joy on Jaskier’s face.  Thankfully, spending years with Jaskier has taught him how to give in and let go.   Retirement is good for them both, and Geralt plans to spend the rest of his days keeping a smile on his lover’s face.

“Dance with me?” Jaskier asks, almost shyly as he holds out a hand.  Geralt covers it with his own and leans in close to whisper into his ear.

“They’re not as good as you,” he says, and Jaskier laughs bright and openly as they move into the crowd of dancers.

“Flattery will get you everywhere, darling,” Jaskier tells him with a wink, and then they’re moving together with the grace built by years of practice.

Geralt feels every year of his age right now, but Jaskier’s youthful energy makes them fit right in with the villagers around them.  The song is bouncy and light, and they hold each other up as they spin to the beat. Jaskier feels perfect in his arms, like they were built for each other, and Geralt can’t help squeezing him tighter as they dance.

Leaning in, Jaskier presses a quick kiss to Geralt’s cheek, his lute-calloused fingers laced with Geralt’s and their warm palms touching as they spin with the rest of the crowd.  Geralt nearly trips over his own feet, and Jaskier just leans back, giggling at him but still smiling brighter than the hot afternoon sun.  He looks absolutely gorgeous like this, his eyes alight and his cheeks flushed with exertion.

“Where is that famed witcher grace and agility?” Jaskier asks with a smirk.  “Gone soft in your retirement?”

“Wasn’t aware this was a competition,” Geralt says slowly before grinning at him and adding, “you want to see some skills?  How’s this work for you?”

Without any further warning, Geralt lowers his hands to Jaskier’s waist and tosses him up in the air.  Jaskier lets out a squeal, his lithe arms flailing before Geralt catches him quickly.  His dress swirls around them, the printed fabric swishing as they move.  He supports Jaskier by holding his slim waist and encouraging Jaskier to tuck his legs against his hip.  He does so, throwing his head back and laughing as Geralt keeps dancing.

Someone near them whistles appreciatively, but Geralt keeps his focus on Jaskier.  The corners of his eyes are crinkled, his whole face lit up as he looks down at Geralt.  They move in slow circles as the band winds down, and Jaskier leans in to kiss him as the last few notes of the song trail off.  His mouth is soft against Geralt’s, his hands even softer as he threads his fingers through Geralt’s hair.  He lets his feet drop, the petal pink heels clicking on the cobblestones beneath them, and grabs a fist of Geralt’s shirt, pulling him even closer.  They stand there kissing long after the next song starts, the dances moving around them without missing a beat.

—

By the time the sun sets, Geralt is more than ready to head back home.   But of course Jaskier won’t leave before the fireworks go off.  One well-timed pout had been enough to get Geralt to start searching for the perfect viewing spot.  They end up on a stone bench in the middle of one of the public gardens.  The Duchess’ palace stands tall above them, but neither of them felt the need to push past the festival crowds to fight for a seat inside.  No, this little alcove they found is much better.

They had a late dinner in one of the town squares, splitting a platter of meats and cheese and more of the sweet sun-ripened strawberries it seems every dish at the festival features.   His belly is pleasantly full, and the taste of sugary strawberry wine lingers on his tongue.  Geralt sighs and leans into Jaskier, humming happily before wrapping an arm around his shoulders.  Jaskier sighs softly and nuzzles their cheeks together, his tanned skin still warm even as the night cools down around them.

Suddenly Geralt remembers his earlier purchase and slides a hand inside his pocket, his fingers easily finding the cool metal of the ring.  Jaskier is lost in his own head, his fingers tapping a lively beat against Geralt’s thigh, and Geralt realizes he’s most likely composing something.  He waits for the tapping to stop before clearing his throat and getting the bard’s attention.

“Yes, dear?” Jaskier asks, tilting his head as he turns to look at Geralt.  There’s something about the softness in his eyes that makes Geralt’s chest pull tight, and he ends up fumbling over his words.

“I, er, for you,” he mutters before shoving the ring at Jaskier.  He almost drops it, but Jaskier’s nimble fingers manage to hang on, and he lets out a gasp before holding the ring up in front of him.

“You went back for it!” he exclaims, eyes watering as he looks between the silver ring and Geralt’s face.

“You deserve pretty things,” Geralt mumbles, which just makes Jaskier move even closer to him.

He slides the ring onto his hand before holding it up to examine it properly.  The fiery opal looks elegant on his long finger, like it’s always belonged there.  Geralt tries to pretend he’s not pleased by the way Jaskier is preening over the jewelry, but he loves being able to provide little extravagances for him.  He didn’t lie when he said Jaskier deserves this and so much more.  Thankfully they have years ahead of them, and Geralt vows to keep spoiling him until his last day on this earth.

“The prettiest thing I ever got was you,” Jaskier tells him sweetly, and Geralt can feel his face flushing.  He tries to look away, but Jaskier cups his cheek in one hand and smiles dopily at him.  Geralt knows without a doubt that there’s a matching look on his own face, and he just doesn't care anymore.  Let the festival goers judge however they want.

His love ought to be celebrated, ought to be seen.

“Charmer,” Geralt manages to blurt out, and Jaskier just offers a shrug and another smile.

“Says the man who keeps charming me, over and over, each and every single day.  You’re a romantic, witcher mine, and there’s no use denying it,” Jaskier points out, much to Geralt’s dismay.  He takes a breath, like he’s about to argue more, but then a flash of light explodes above them, the boom echoing off the stone walls of the buildings surrounding them.  Jaskier gasps and turns his face towards the sky to watch the fireworks.

The Duchess puts on a stunning display, and they spend the next half hour watching the fireworks bloom in the night sky.  Well, Jaskier watches the fireworks.  Geralt watches Jaskier, as he is wont to do.  The bright colors flash around them, highlighting Jaskier’s cheekbones and the curve of his mouth, and Geralt thinks it’s one of the most gorgeous sights he’s ever seen.  His favorite views aren't fit for polite company, so he focuses on this moment instead of reminiscing.   Besides, he’ll have plenty of time to take his bard apart on their bedsheets once they return home for the night.  For now he is more than content to hold Jaskier in his arms while the fireworks flash and rain down around them.

[andrea1717]

Fic authors self rec! When you get this, reply with your favorite five fics that you've written, then pass on to at least five other writers. Let’s spread the self-love 💖

💞😍

Oh hello and thank you for this message! <3

This is a hard one especially while sitting in a huge pile of notes with writer's block haha... but i will try!

(no particular order:)

Temptation - i wrote this for the All Caps Bingo and it got so much longer than i expected it to be. It was so much and i hope i did the movie it was inspired by some justice.

Summary: Steve Rogers is part of a team of cops who have to investigate a brutal murder in 1991 Los Angeles. He didn't expect to fall for the major suspect, Bucky Barnes.

Words: 26k , Rating: E

2. Something to Someone - of course i have to mention my baby, the first fic i ever completed and it also reminds me of such a great summer last year. I will always love it even if it's not perfect.

Summary: It was the summer of love once seventeen year old Steve Rogers finally gets a chance to talk to Bucky Barnes, the guy he used to watch from afar for years.

As the months go by he discovers more and more layers of the boy he adores until one day, after a devastating event, he vanishes.

It takes Steve months and many more uncovered secrets to let go and move on.

...

At twenty four Steve is living a life he loves. Working at the hospital with his childhood best friend Natasha. Living in an apartment not far from his mother in New York City.

One day at a night shift he gets an unusual task: watching a patient all night who refuses to talk to the police. A male sex worker who was almost killed by a client.

It’s a person Steve never thought he would see again. It’s Bucky Barnes.

Words: 100k (the whole series) , Rating: E

3. Four - it is one of the short fics that belong to a series i am working on right now and i think this part is just so melancholic which i love.

Summary: Four of Bucky's birthdays through the years.

Words: 1k , Rating: T

4. Destiny - this fic was inspired by one of my favourite artists and i hope i did her wonderful piece some justice.

Summary: Bucky and Steve find each other again - somehow.

Words: 1,4k , Rating: M

5. I am searching high, I'm searching low in the night - this is probably my most personal fic and i like how it turned out.

Summary: Bucky's birthday takes a surprising turn.

Words: 930 , Rating: G

Thank you again for the tag <3 I send this to a few friends - but no pressure :)

[zerofuckingwaste]

Let's talk about the fast fashion industry. Specifically, the duplicitous, copycat nature of many companies- the likes of Shein and such.

I'm betting you've seen an ad like this before:

A piece of clothing you would love to have and wear, not only great aesthetics, but comfy looking too. It looks official, too- it's between two news articles from reputable papers, and it has the word "Official" on it, and it's a sponsored ad- how could it afford to be all sponsored if it wasn't legit, right?

Let's take a look at the actual listing.

It's got a number of pictures, which lends further to its air of legitimacy. The material is unfortunately listed as polyester- aka plastic- and there is very little detail on the obviously intricate design, the fit, etc. Upon closer inspection, it's all very vague. And, it's under $50- a price tag which should raise red flags, for being suspiciously inexpensive.

If we take two seconds to do a Google lens search, we find the following:

Suddenly, we have a listing that makes sense. Nearly $700, with a description that goes into detail not only on the design (complete with the name of the designer) and style (including information on the fit), but the materials- 100% natural linen and ramie, both renewable, non plastic resources.

Doing a deeper dive into the legitimate retailer, we find the following:

There's a lot more, but it all essentially boils down to "this is a carbon neutral company dedicated to transparency, using renewable resources, and ethical labor practices". Compare that to the shady site, which offers no such assurances, instead boasting about low prices... Which usually can only happen by under paying over worked laborers, not compensating designers, and using non renewable, cheap, and low quality materials.

Yes, the price tag for the real thing is high. REALLY high. But that is the cost of wearing what is essentially a piece of art. Buying fast fashion as a way to get around that price tag is a great way to promote unethical labor practices, low quality non renewable resources, and not compensating the artists who work so hard to design these things. Only occasionally purchasing clothes you actually need/want, so that you cultivate a wardrobe that will last you decades if not a lifetime and beyond, will allow you to save money, and support ethical practices and renewable materials, and as a bonus, you'll craft a closet full of things you actually want to wear, with no duds.

You can only wear one outfit a day. You don't need to buy new clothes all the time. You don't need hundreds of pieces of clothing, you would be surprised how little you need. I am far from a minimalist- I would say I'm a maximalist- yet all of my clothes fit in half a dresser and half a closet, with room to spare, and yet in combination, I have a seemingly endless amount of options for outfits. So, why fill your closet with half assed crappy clothing that will fall apart and go to a landfill in a few months, wasting your money and time, when you can instead thoughtfully choose good pieces of clothing that will last forever, meaning you don't need to buy more clothing to replace it ever again?

$700 is a lot of money. It's the same as 14 of those $50 plastic dresses. But keep in mind, those $50 dresses are of bad quality, with uncomfortable material; you'll throw them out within months, at most a few years. But that $700 dress is made of light, breathable cloth, thoughtfully made to be quite comfortable as well as beautiful- it's these kinds of dresses that will end up being passed to your children when you die, because they're still good as new. I have dresses that my grandmother bought in the 70's in my closet, that have at most needed a button replaced in the last 50 years since.

Think about it this way: that dress that you have to save up for can last a lifetime and beyond, in your closet, or someone else's that you pass it to- the dress that you can buy without a second thought will also last a lifetime and beyond... In a landfill.

Don't waste your money on fast fashion. Spend it wisely, supporting good business practices, and cultivating a wardrobe you'll actually be able to enjoy for years to come.

[mcblingbrat]

RL Bratz Doll Wardrobe

Like Jade, I have a unique and personal sense of style that aligns with current trends, sets me apart from other people and makes me a trendsetter. Fashion is one of the many forms of self-expression, and I use the low end, high end and vintage items that I own to do that.

Outerwear

Every fashionista owns a wide range of outerwear that sits in there closet for a considerable amount of time due to them not having the perfect ensemble, dress, jumpsuit, bag, accessories and shoes to go with it; and I’m one of those people.

When I manage to find the perfect clothing items, accessories and shoes for said outerwear, my firsthand or secondhand jackets and coats that are bold, feminine, glamorous and/or extravagant make their big debut.

Tops

Similar to Sasha, Yasmin, Jade and Cloe, my clothing, specifically my tops, have landed me in hot water due to them being quote unquote too revealing or attention grabbing.

My casual tops are usually form fitting and figure flattering and have details that are related to my likes, interests and personality (ex: cute slogan tees with sayings, an off the shoulder sweater that is shimmery and see through, a brightly colored tank top with ribbed lace up detailing, etc.).

My formal tops are also form fitting and figure flattering like me previously mentioned casual tops, but they make a statement that won’t be made again due to them being so unexpected yet so me (ex: a silver metal mesh top with a crystal sleeve, a denim and velour corset top, a wrap around star fishnet top, etc.).

Pants

As a petite woman, I have to find pants that are going to fit me perfectly and compliment my frame.

Once I find pants that fulfill those two mandatory requirements online or in stores, I proceed to purchase pants that should’ve made me realize that Aquarius was my chart ruler before I purchased my astrological portrait due to most of pants being the definition of outrageous, urban yet camp.

If I find pants that are plain but fit me perfectly and compliment my frame, I purchase them and have them altered to resemble my vision and sketch. Like the great Galleria Garibaldi, I take bits and pieces and put them together cause I’m a visionary and an artist.

Skirts

The skirts that I don are less outrageous and camp than my pants since I love to show off my legs in short skirts, but the colors, prints, embellishments, detailing and textures of the skirts that accommodate the jacket, top, jewelry, handbag and shoes make the outfit cohesive, which is what I strive for despite striving for various self related things when I put together an outfit for myself.

Formal Wear

My formal fashion moments are sporadic due to the pandemic and my busy schedule that consists of school and work, but when I am granted the opportunity to dress up for a formal event, I take that as an opportunity to unleash my softer and ethereal side with soft yet bright colors and whimsical imagery (ex: butterflies, cloud print, orchid print, floral embellishments, corset detailing, hoods, etc.).

Accessories

All libra women are the main characters in their lives and other peoples lives. As a libra woman who is a proud main character in my life and the lives of many others, diamonds are all over my body because it reflects who I am and lets people know that I am a shining and bright diamond. I also have an affinity for diamonds because they look great on me and I’m a proud maximalist that believes that any thing that’s understated has no place in my abundant life.

Handbags

I’m really particular when it comes to the bags that I purchase. They don’t have to be designer, but they have to be a high quality bag. I don’t want to wear a bag that everybody is wearing or obsessing over because I’m not worried about everybody and their minion like tendencies and I don’t want to purchase a bag with my hard earned money that’s going to fall apart. Bags should age like a fine wine, not curdle like expired milk.

When it comes to shape, color and detailing, I’m flexible since I’m a fashion chameleon, but I have a few exceptions (ex: a brown or beige bag (I don’t like colors and they wash me out), gold detailing (I’m cool toned and I always preferred silver) and faux leather bags (they leather peels and I’m all about the real.).

Shoes

My shoes are the final act of my outfits that close the show, and I always make sure to pick out show stopping shoes that’ll incite an encore from onlookers.

Despite being genuinely confident despite my short stature, I often find myself purchasing sneakers, boots, wedges and heels that make me appear taller than I actually am.

Lengthy shoes are a no-no. Tall girls look amazing in knee high shoes, whereas short girls look juvenile when they’re wearing knee high shoes, and I’m not trying to have people thinking that I’m a young girl playing dress up because I’m a grown woman.

Lastly, I'm open to most things when it comes to shoes, with exceptions (ex: pure white shoes (they get dirty easily and are going to be a pain to clean), crocs (first of all, ew. second of all, ew.), and converse (I LOVED me some Chuck Taylor's when I was a preteen in middle school and a teenager in high school, and still do to this day, but they don’t give me much support and my family forced me to let them go completely until they create shoes that’ll support my feet.).

[plushii-gutz]

The next little gift is a deleted segment between Glaishur, Hornacle, and Loodvigg. This was a short vent I wrote out after I silly little incident with my step dad. This was set somewhere between parts 3 and 4, I believe. My partner actually made art referencing this writing a while ago, which will be presented at the end :>

Glaishur and Hornacle were the last monsters awake. Hornacle was always the hardest to get to bed. Apart from Galvana, that is. It wasn't that he was stubborn - he never threw fits. He was just hard to catch.

Luckily, the water monster was easy to bargain with. He didn't want any kind of sweets or special gifts; he just wanted to share his love of drawing and doodles with someone. Glaishur was happy to fill this role, having set up the table prior to the castles usual resting time with the little monster by his side to assure he didn't forget anything.

The many little monsters have since gone to be, so it seemed to just be the two of them. Glaishur took his seat at the end of the table with Hornacle sitting to his right, each scribbling up a page and offering the other compliments on their artistic renditions of the world around them. Hornacle began making the outlines of certain objects or scenes, then passing the paper to the cold monster beside them to finish the pice with colors or new additions. It went from a simple collaborative piece to a sort of game, challenging the other monster to finish as many drawings as possible before they just couldn't keep up.

"You're gonna make me break my fingers!" Glaishur joked. Although his fingers were very much intact, the same couldn't be said for the crumbled wax crayons around him. He wasn't all too sure where these crayons came from or how they were made, but the quality was questionable.

Hornacle laughed his little head off, seeming to have achieved their goal of nightly chaos. Glaishur was quick to hush him, reminding of the sleeping monsters.

"How 'bout we do a couple more than head off t' snooze, yeah?"

The deal was made. A few more sheets of recycled paper were found and drawn on, each monster making their final works of the night their best. Glaishur found himself lost in the possibilities of creation. He had many ideas, and it was hard to choose just one for the night. He finally began to sketch out his plan; a portrait of Hornacle. To the best of his abilities, that is. He had become so lost in the process that he didn't notice the creaking of the stairs. He didn't hear the tapping approaching the table.

"Having fun?" A cool voice spoke.

Glaishur felt his fur stand the second he heard it. He faced forward, unwilling to let his eyes make contact with the shadowy monster nearby. Poor Hornacle could only keep their head down.

"Yeah," the cold monster answered shakily.

"I couldn't help but notice that the dishes have been left undone. Or how the kitchen remains a mess."

Loodvigg circled the table, lifting one of the many drawings that had been completed not long ago.

"You seem to have plenty of time on your hands."

"I.. I forgot," Glaishur stuttered. "I can do them after-"

"You didn't forget," Loodvigg spat, tossing the paper aside, "you chose not to! You're the only monster in this castle who is just incapable of finishing the most simplistic tasks. Do you just not care for the well-being of everyone else, or do you find amusement in dropping your responsibilities on everyone else?"

"I forgot-"

"You did not!"

Hornacle hopped from the table, running out of the kitchen and down the hallway. The sound of their bedroom door slamming shut seemed to be enough to alert another monster. Soon, Glaishur was no longer alone with Loodvigg, now assisted by Furnoss.

"That's enough," the fire elementalist would say. "I don't need you to defend me."

"You never put your foot down," Loodvigg would respond. "You let him get away with this, who knows what else he'd do?"

"He just forgot, Lood. Galvana forgets all the time!"

All of their arguing, right next to Glaishur as if he weren't there. He certainly didn't like himself being compared to a toddler, even less so with them being the troublemaker. Furnoss soon dragged Loodvigg back up the stairs, leaving the kitchen in silence. Now, on his own, the cold monster stood up to do the same task he would have done with nothing more than a simple reminder.

During his chore, he reunited with Hornacle. The little monster displayed their final art piece of the night.

[yuseirra]

hope youre doing better :(

after the stuff with projmoon snowballed into... wildly gesturing at the witch hunts... yeah, it makes complete sense to just be so. distraught, over it all.

i hope one day you can feel safe to be on twitter, especially given how much of a big network it was for artists, or be able to find a new network that is just as good. and i hope you stay safe, and find comfort in p3r, given how soon it is to release :)

your art has always been really soft and beautiful, and just. i love the way your colouring works? especially after learning it is all individual strokes? between those, and the comics which are always a delight to read, even when i have no idea what the media its about is...

please stay safe

Hello anon!// I'm so happy you care about my feelings and your message is very considerate, I'm glad I could put out my feelings in words and have so many of you show care for me. It's kind of sad, on how there's people giving out the pain and they are really not the ones being affected by how I feel, whereas, I'm making a lot of people who care for my welfare worry but that's pretty much how everything goes all the time... I wish it weren't that way. I've been trying very hard to look at the good sides and remain cheerful and retain hope and be loving, as I could. However it's been a little hard lately kinda, it's been affecting me in a really bad way and I could feel it crawl up my skin so I had to let something out in order to allow me some breathing space. In order to be a good yuseirra (which I want to be) I know I have to be true to myself.

Before I begin anything, everyone's been so kind to me and I respect that. I don't hold any grudge against someone who mistreated me in person because there were none (which is what I consider to be a miracle!). To be honest, I had no reason to discard my decade old account with so many fond memories if looking at a personal standpoint. Still, I kept getting agonized because I kept encountering so many of these toxicity and cruelty being thrown at people, I wanted to do something about it but online's just not the place to go. There's always this huge-,, risk of being misunderstood here, harassed, being slandered, and being broken apart into pieces and people aren't willing to listen to each other, a lot of them jump straight into conclusions and they are so eager to decide and go strike as hard as they can because mildly put, they have something on their minds that they think are important and are very just in their own way. It may be nothing new, but it's grown in such a huge scale where I originate to the extent I just don't think it's all right to overlook. It's not fine. It's really, really bad. It's been dragging me down, so draining, making me lose hope on internet and how well it can be used as a medium to communicate, which is an idea I don't want to carry in my heart for so long...

It's a bit like treading on ice on a constant basis. I have to be very careful with my words all the time. I think I did "alright" myself (I can never be sure but I try) but seeing things happen is another thing. That alone put me in so much pain. It feels like talking to a wall. I wouldn't say I feel exactly helpless about it, but I did feel like I wasn't going to help anything the way I am now. What should I do? What could I do? I kept thinking about it, I never want to add on to that kind of behavior or add some kind of momentum to it. I won't contribute to it. I am thinking about what I can do. '-')9

Distraught.. I do think that's the word. Hehe, remember how when you're overlevelled in tartarus and you can encounter some shadows, that are all distressed? I've been playing p3p again, and it made me think about how I was feeling a little. "Distressed".. I am very distressed. And I can't say I like what's happening around me, it's not a pretty sight to look at. Overall, I am disheartened and sad.

But that doesn't mean I'm weak, or that I'm some underlevelled shadow waiting to be exterminated, oh no I'm not weak at all. It's because I am a sensitive person who cares a lot. I'm hurt because I care enough to want things to be better.

I have amazing anons and friends who've been supporting me, so I think I'll be okay in the long run. I was so happy from the messages I got yesterday and it once again helped me realize there's a lot of warmth and good in this world and that people are willing to help each other out, it's a faith I want to keep and you guys give it to me. I'm glad I can meet all of you!///

Mhm! It's a shame I stepped out of the platform but I'd like to reach more people through my art, I still have a ways to go in terms of improvement, but art's been a way to communicate with more people for me. Rn I'll take a good rest, and find comfort, recharge a bit and I'll be able to be the person I want to be/share my good sides as a human being! When you're very sad or strained, it's a lot harder to do that and some parts of you that you don't want to show off keeps rubbing off out of your words and actions. It's tragic and embarrassing when that happens...

no one is perfect. I wish people can be kinder to one another, because from what I've learned through the ages, yeah there ARE people that are irredeemable but they are the minority!! Most people want to be understood, and they have something going on that you don't really understand from your own perspective. You don't know what another person is going through, so how can you judge someone so quickly? I don't think I'll be able to do that even if I had the ability to read minds. Which is (by that I mean the mind and human psychology)a subject I was always so intrigued about. The more I learn about it, it's very complex and delicate, sometimes it tends to be foolish; but yet, aren't we all since we all are human after all?

This grew so long but I have to comment towards your compliment towards my art ;v;.. I'm glad I draw whenever I find someone who shows it a lot of affection and looks at it with much care, thank you for using those tender adjectives to describe my drawings.. "soft", "beautiful", I love it!/// Now I can see my own art that way as well! thinking yeah, that kind anon earlier, they said my art was soft, yes it's soft indeed.. hhhsh and that's wonderful.

I also want to say, I do put a lot of thought into my comics when I write the dialogues for them.. I read them over a lot to see if they make sense and have some sort of unity that wraps them all together as one! Usually I have some feeling I want to express, and a lot of the times I want to show what and how these two characters feel towards each other(on many occasions if not most, they care for one another) through it and I'm glad to know it's been giving you delight even regardless of what the original material is!! I'm glad I could make something fun even for someone who isn't familiar with the fandom too!

I will be happy to share more with you anon, recently, I feel like I'm on a bit of a roll with art! I am getting better and I think my art is growing over the years. I look forward to showing you and the others more things, so will you be here with me? :) I'll be happy to have you here!

I'll try my best to stay safe! Indeed, my choices earlier was to do just that '-')9 I want to be with you all for a long time.

See you around anon!!

Sincerely yours, Yuseirra

[donnerpartyofone]

Things I have found while moving:

- Invites to weddings of my divorced friends

- Gift stationary from the wedding of my widowed friend

- Emotional but unsigned letters from people I can't remember

- Zines I have no memory of contributing to

- Several successive updated orders of protection against the stranger who stalked me at work for a few years

- Photos of, and a birthday mixtape from a friend with whom I had a really bad breakup (she accidentally eavesdropped on me telling someone else all the hard truths I wasn't ready to tell her yet, which must have sucked for her, but she did something pretty bad before that happened, so I guess we're even)

- A brilliant hand-drawn comic made for my birthday by a friend I used to really love but who eventually proved that he just didn't give that much of a shit (I kept it anyway, it's great)

- A piece of art from one of my then-favorite artists, commissioned for my birthday by my then-boyfriend. It shows us in bed, me reading one of my favorite books, and him reading...one of my other favorite books. Reminds me of when he was updating his neglected Facebook page and he entered all of my own personal faves and interests as his; he "joked" that everything I liked was "for assholes" but he was obviously embarrassed by his own interests or lack thereof. During one of our many harrowing breakups, he remarked that he only commissioned this artwork as a trick to convince me that he was a superior boyfriend, which didn't make that much sense to me but whatever (I threw it out)

- An envelope addressed to me from "Bill the Mystery Man" containing several stapled-together documents: something on nazis, something on metallurgy, something on forensic entomology, and a handful of old comics that he had xeroxed every page of. I have no recollection of receiving this

- An absolutely hilarious internal memo I stole from a movie production office where I briefly interned 20+ years ago. The sender complains that a sex scene shot for an R-rated thriller shows a sock, stretch marks, and male genitals "all over the place."

- Finally, a set of paintings I bought from a local junk shop three apartments ago, all dedicated to the artist's favorite actor "Billy Murray" aka "God's Tunesmith"

[sor-vette]

❝𝐎𝐧𝐜𝐞 𝐔𝐩𝐨𝐧 𝐚 𝐒𝐚𝐭𝐮𝐫𝐝𝐚𝐲❞

You knew three things about Park Jimin. In order, he was, despite all, a very kind man. Secondly, he was the devil and thirdly, which Jimin himself insisted to be true, was that he was in love with you.

• type: Jimin x reader • rating: SFW • w/c: 6.3k • main masterlist

• genre/about: fluff, friends? to lovers? very much romantic vs. emotionally constipated feat. adulthood feat. extremely pining Jimin because when the guy is the pining one is peak intellect fight me, the reader has specific zodiac placements but other than that nothing bodily wise is mentioned

• c/w: mentioned attempt to coerce someone into drug abuse, mention of past eating disorder, discussion of self-image issues, mildly suggestive

• a/n: was just rifling through my drafts and remembered this was a thing. I liked it even though it's unfinished and kinda sappy

• permanent taglist: @ilsan-seoul; @chimchimmarie; @pinkcherrybombs; @introlxv

There were three things that needed to be known about Park Jimin, was what Tilla told you while you had jogged to meet her boyfriend's roommate. In order: he was a Libra Sun, Gemini Moon, and Cancer Rising, which can all be summarised in one category - he was incredibly flirty. Though Tilla insisted she had already said Libra Sun whatever that meant and that there was no other, literally no other, bar for her Namjoonie, that was as ethereal as Jimin. Those were the things that preceded his fine name - good looking to an insane degree and flirty. Hence why when you had glimpsed the top of his bleached head, you had already swerved hard left then and remained the only one from the clash of two social circles - Namjoon's and Tilla's - as an absolute mystery.

Tilla once again insisted that she had already made everyone aware of your Scorpio Sun status...whatever the hell that meant.

Now, some years, not a lot but some years gone, you knew three more accurate things about Park Jimin. In order, he was, despite all, a very kind man. Really, not even being an eternal sceptic -

"It's that Capricorn Moon of yours, I'm telling you," Tilla declared, passionately waving around a fork and accidentally sending a piece of egg flying into Namjoon's face who was unsuspectingly sitting by the neighbouring cafeteria table. A victim in many cases. That's how they met actually.

- not even being an eternal sceptic, could sway that despite the occasional, human hiccup, Park Jimin was an attentive and caring man. Secondly, he was the devil.

As you had gawked at the suggestive photo of him, grabbing his crotch, long tongue poking at the corner of his full lips, the entire shebang and acknowledging that he made that sort of lewd act look artistic, you knew that Park Jimin was an ocean if not the whole world of hurt. When you confronted him over the group breakfast, why would he ever send such a thing, he had only smirked over a cup of orange juice and after innocently fluttering his eyelashes, asked whatever did you mean. Of course, not five minutes after another picture had followed.

All of that could be ignored, pushed, shoved, burned and forgotten if not for the third thing.

The third thing which Jimin himself had insisted to be true.

Which is that he was in love with you.

You wake up one day and you're an adult. An adult with bills to pay and taxes to be deducted. You work away in a job you don't like but don't dare to change because unemployment is no joke and you live in a studio apartment too small that costs too much and is not in any shape or form of any resemblance to the appealing pictures of the white and green variety found on Instagram. Your socks have holes and your shoes let in water when it rains too hard. You're so very lonely but you've given up on the dating scene because the fear of being messed up, being damaged is too vast. Dating is hard. Opening up to people is hard.

There is very little romance to be found while you wander on a path that feels like a wrong choice but you don't want to think about it too hard yet because what if you had messed up and what if you will end up exactly like hundreds of others, figures in the disgruntled mass, all chasing a dream that maybe didn't even exist.

It's all very bleak.

Except for Saturdays.

Saturdays are these nice little blankets of comfort where nice things are possible, given, of course, that you spend money on them but that doesn't matter. You can sleep in, then tuck the sheets that need a wash over the bed and grabbing only your wallet to name, venture out into the city. You've got your tote bag, because nowadays everyone has them and you stroll, briefly careless, underneath the sun. And then you can get a coffee of your choice and an overpriced something that the barista swears their soul for and you can sit and dream in the plushy chairs of the ambient little coffee shop.

It's as near to perfection as you can get.

If not for Park fucking Jimin.

You're not a university student anymore and you're far from high school, all the romantic nonsense of meet-cute, friend of a friend and such are well over - you're simply too old for it. It must be some ultra ironic twist of fate for him to look into the shop window just at the moment when you look out. He freezes mid-step and meets your gaze, recognizing you in an instant, well because...because supposedly he was in love with you.

It was a damp July night and cicadas were in a full shriek all around the small meadow. You passively watch from the sidelines as Namjoon and Tilla sway together, completely in their own world. Namjoon had gone through your immaculately designed trials and tribulations from hell and made it through with passable grades. And in spite of the habitual threats of emasculating him with a corkscrew and the rather deep resentment for their romance, you are, in the end, happy for these two baboons and hold your fingers crossed that they will not contribute to the divorce rates and instead be one of those couples, farting next to each other in their old. Or whatever the fuck they did.

You guard your champagne like it's a lifeline because holy hell Yoongi was snorting that shit by the litres and you salute quietly to yourself - to the end of an era.

He outdid himself this evening. Absolutely stunning visuals from Mr Park. It's just an objective fact, you think to yourself.

But... but Jimin is also there. Jimin was...complicated. For you, at least. He's looking at you. He was always looking at you but it never quite grows into being creepy. It's simply peculiar. By now it's been already four years since you were begrudgingly introduced to each other and you've made peace with being in his focus.

"I like you," he suddenly says, the light breeze ruffling his hair.

You laugh awkwardly but Jimin doesn't.

"Uh...I like you too."

"No, no," he shakes his head. "I'm in love with you."

After a stilted pause, he continues.

"Strange, isn't it?" his smile seems bizarrely self-conscious. "To be in love?"

What do you say when such a thing is just dropped upon you with no warning whatsoever?

"Guess so."

Well, probably not that.

Jimin left quickly after. Went on the world tour or whatever models did and you don't see him anymore.

Usually, the confession meant the end of the movie, the culmination of the plot, the beginning of the happy ever after but this was real life and as such there was nothing, just the fearful pondering of what could have been better and self-congratulatory pats of what was avoided. He becomes a voice in your head, forever confusing you as to why would he say such a thing and a distantly familiar face printed on the covers of laminated, high-end magazines. 

Yes, all the cuteness, all the cliche romance is over. But if you believed them, which you didn't, but if you did, then the image of Park Jimin bounding towards you with a smile so wide his eyes did the thing of narrowing into thin lines, would be the only one who'd fit the scenarios.

"Hello, stranger," he beamed, hooking off the mask and advancing forward with great speed and agility. It was that grace of an unceasing charmer. Cancer Rising. Whatever that meant. You scamper upwards, weighing between a hand wave or a nod of the head and then you're left standing still as Jimin hugs you. Not a casual press against the side hug but a bone-crushing, enveloping-you-fully-until-all-you-smell-is-my-cologne type of hug. The breed of which you've missed dearly.

It takes him a while, a couple of wags from left and right, to step back and skim you over. As he's smiling wide you focus on that one crooked tooth in his mouth. One, neat little flaw to remind you and everyone else that he was, in fact, a human being but unfortunately this was Park Jimin and even his flaws were at their worst merely endearing.

"You look lovely," he praises and you clear your throat. Did he have to be so sincere about it?

"You too. Though you must hear it often."

He inclines his head.

"I like to hear it from you. Thank you."

You hum, glancing down at your occupied seat. Jimin does too.

"May I join?" he asks.

"Sure."

You meant to say no. Did you? Did you really? There's nothing wrong with talking a bit with Jimin, right? Catch up? He was a friend of a friend, anyway.

And also the guy who was in love with you.

Okay.

Alright.

Like that makes sense.

He pulls the chair and nestles into it, running his hands through his hair. You had seen nearly all the colours of the rainbow on his head. How he had even a scalp to hold onto, the world may never know.

"How have you been?"

"....I've been here."

He gives a gracious laugh. Jimin was always so quick to laugh.

"And is it nice here?"

You glimpse outside.

“Not really."

He chuckles again. It must be the condensation from all the coffee making. The shop was getting quite toasty.

"What about you? What have you been doing?"

You fetch Jimin his matcha latte, declining his offer to pay back.

"Worked nonstop, pretty much," he shrugs. "I went on a runway once, but I stopped doing it when I developed an eating disorder and my manager suggested to do cocaine."

You are left sitting with your mouth wide open like a fool.

Jimin's eyes crinkle as he smiles at such a thing. Like it wasn't fucked up as all shit that it happened.

“I'm better now though. Kicked that piece of shit away."

Everyone knew that everyone had self-image issues. That was the selling point, it was profitable for even the objectively perfect to be doubtful of themselves and spend thousands and thousands on diet pills, form-fitted clothes, alternative "healthier" eating which was the same look-obsessed culture now rebranded itself as wellness. Yes, you comprehended that but it didn't make it any less unbelievable to hear someone like Jimin, Park the motherfucking Jimin, openly reveal that he didn't like how he looked.

He curiously watches your brain gear and error over and over again.

"Don't apologise if that's what you want to do?" he laughs, quietly, shyly, as though he'd done something wrong. "It's not your fau-"

"I just think that's an atrocious fucking horseshit," your mouth runs on auto-pilot because your brain is lacking. It was never a good combination.

"What is?"

"For anyone to ever think you're not beautiful."

"And to...to suggest drugs? What the fuck is wrong with these people?" you snarl, gripping your coffee cup with pulverising strength, briefly wondering why Jimin winced. Did he not like the coffee? He had never complained before…

Unbeknownst to you, Jimin blushes bright red because it's the brutal honesty in your tone that truly does him in. He was used to the saccharine compliments that seeped like poison from strangers' mouths, designed to reel in and it never failed to be vile. But he still found enjoyment in hearing the odd little praises if they came from you. You who had no ulterior motive. Oh, how he knew about the lack of any motives. Truth be told just fifteen minutes ago he had yelled at himself "enough!". But all the attempts to forget you had boarded a plane, flew to the Himalayas and tossed themselves from the highest peak the moment you appeared on the other side of the window. Not even he himself quite understood this thing he had for you. What he did know was that he despised matcha latte but never had the heart to correct you so he suffered through it the times that you got it for him. And that was perhaps more of an insight than he could ever explain to others or to himself.

"Don't know," he replied casually, "I didn't stick around to ask."

"That's good. Are you..are you actually fine, though? Or are you doing your thing of lying to not seem like a burden?"

He smirked mirthlessly.

"I'm actually fine. Dealt with it."

You leaned back into the chair with a heavy sigh.

"So, how's Joontill?"

You snort.

"Enjoying the fine Australian weather."

Jimin frowns in confusion and you mirror his expression.

"They're in Australia right now?"

“Well, yeah. Namjoon got that internship at Murdoch University. They're doing some kind of study about the Coral Reef. Tilla is finding herself on a new spiritual journey. Something about crystals."

More than once, you had looked at Tilla and Namjoon and thought that there were more commonalities between a tiger and a cockatoo than those two. Nevertheless, the two weirdos persisted in their mutual obsession with each other.

“I knew that, it's just...I was meaning to stay here for a while and they offered me their place to stay until I found my own."

"Maybe they left you a key in a mailbox or something," you ponder.

“Maybe," he agrees and sips on the drink.

“So, you're actually settling down? Can't be! Mr Eternal Bachelor?"

"Oh, yes, truth is indeed stranger than fiction. I'm settling down here. Since I'm not doing runways anymore, I applied for a place in a local fashion and lifestyle magazine. I'm done chasing the glory," he exhaled snidely, eyes momentarily darkening at what clearly were fractures of some sour memories.

"That's nice," you lightly remark, careful not to prod at anything still aching. "What will you be doing?"

"Writing, editing, maybe modelling," he took a sip of the coffee, flinching again. 

He must hate it, so why was he still drinking it? 

"Sort of jack-of-all-trades help."

Both of you agree that it's a needed start over. Seemingly only minutes pass but then the barista reminds you that they'll be closing in fifteen minutes.

Dishes of pastries have piled all around and when you look outside, with a stiff neck and even stiffer backside to your surprise the sky has turned dark. Unavoidably, like all good things did, Saturday had come to its inevitable end. The air is fresh and cool outside and your cheeks glisten with unexplainable heat. Jimin stretches with a smile, whining at the sore muscles. The lights of the nearby fruit vendors starkly remind you of Joontill's wedding night and so, still operating on a basic instinct of speaking first - thinking never, the question simply rips out as you linger in each other's presence.

"Do you still like me?"

Jimin, who was in the middle of saying goodbye, freezes like a deer caught in the headlights. He stands like that for a moment and then smiles as though you were sharing some private joke. 

"Yeah," he laughs. "Yeah, I still do."

"Scorpio venus," Tilla enunciated like you were not getting some rudimentary piece of common knowledge. "If he's making eyes at you, you're doomed, sis."

You put the powder brush away with a sigh. All you asked was did she knew why that Jimin guy had been gawking at you at her boyfriend's party.

"Ain't your boy-toy the same house?"

“Those are placements, not houses," Tilla amended, hanging upside down on the bed, lollipop sticking out of her mouth. "And yes, Joonie -"

"Joonie," you scoffed.

"- is also Scorpio venus. How do you think I know I'll get my guts rearranged this night and tomorrow morning?"

You crinkle your nose in disgust.

"Gross."

"I'll be going now," he sighs and it is mind-boggling to you how he does that. Confesses and then proceeds life as normal. Most people would be digging themselves in a ditch, you first and foremost, but not Mr Park. He had told you twice already that he fancied you and then simply left.

You bite discreetly on your lip. What would happen if you would cast everything aside? Take him by the hand and lead away? Well, the thing would be is that he would probably fall out of love the moment you'd fall into it. That's why there was the term "timing". Time was a precarious thing and often changed with every passing wind. And you were well aware of how painful it'd be to actually fall in love with Park Jimin. You had been dancing on that edge for years now and as such had tethered nicely to the side of inactivity. Even if you found out that loitering around him in person made you irrationally want to kiss him.

As you part, each walking in your own separate directions, you think of being so sneaky by waiting until the very last second to glimpse back at him. Just once. But as you do, you find that to his credit, Jimin was already looking.

"Shut the fuck up," you growl not even bothering to lift your head from the pillow. Tilla doesn't have to say anything. That smarmy, annoying little face of hers shouts more than words ever could.

“I did not speak!" she objects but with a tint of amusement. The weird subject of you and Jimin had entertained her for years with no signs of stopping. Behind her, there sprawls the beautiful vistas of the Australian sea, the sun high in the sky while outside you can perhaps glance at a faint glimmer of stars aimlessly wandering through space.

"Oh, I do wish you would just seize the bull by the horns. Jimin's fine enough of a stallion and by rumours -"

"Don't you dare to discuss Jimin's dick out loud!"

Somewhere outside of the camera comes Namjoon's grumbling threat. When Tilla points her phone at him, he can be found with a toothbrush lodged in his mouth, tugging his shorts over his ass.

Unfortunately not an unseen sight.

“I've got eyes only for you, babe."

"Liar, liar, tiny thong on fire," he casts her a stormy glare. "You were thirsting over those surfers all day. I know."

"Oh, you do? Why don't you come here and punish me then."

"Please, I beg of you, there's only so much vomit I can project!" you interrupt, physically gagging at the unfolding scene.

Tilla merely rolled her eyes and you try not to ponder too much on the fact that judging from the peculiar angle one of her hands must be tied to the bed.

"But back to you, listen, I know it may be hard to believe, only for you of course, but Jimin is still carrying a massive fucking torch for you. If you don't do anything, that flame will go out."

“So? Wonderful! I want it to go out!"

Tilla's eyes soften.

"Babe..."

You shake your head once more.

“No, don't pity me."

"I'm not pitying you! It's just that it's not really a plan - to move to Alberta, adopt seventeen dogs, go insane one night and then die from hypothermia while streaking outside, after which your dogs feast on your decomposing flesh."

You regard her with a raised brow.

“Why ever not? I've spent my entire life with that plan."

Tilla sighed leaning back into the pillows. Her wrist was indeed locked in a pair of fuzzy, pink handcuffs.

“You know you are capable of love, right?"

“I've loved you my entire life," you are quick to agree.

"And Namjoon."

“Doubtful."

Tilla smirks and Namjoon groans somewhere in the distance.

"Know your place, boy-toy," you bark at him. "I was here first."

"She was," Tilla interjects, pointing one solemn finger off the camera. At this point, Namjoon mutters something about "women" and exits stage left.

"You know I'm not saying you should jump Jimin because he's gorgeous and nice and has the hots for you-"

"That's exactly what you're saying."

"No, well, maybe a little bit, but it's fine if you reject him because you don't like him or because you know you won't regret it. But do you remember Katie?"

Could you ever forget the little wench who'd stolen your purple, fuzz covered purse bedazzled with the words "icon"? It was a vicious and unjust crime that took weeks to get over.

"Do you not regret punching her in the face that day she came to school with your bag?"

Of course, you did. Being a seven-year-old who had not yet hit a growth spurt such as yourself, Katie then seemed so invincible and tall. But now as an adult, having the sage wisdom and knowledge that one famed day you'll knock out not one, but two dudes of senior class when they tried to pocket your hard-earned money, you deeply mourned the fact that you hadn't given her the knuckle sandwich that heinous skank clearly deserved.

"My point is, don't let Jimin be another Katie. You're so bitter already, god knows, we don't need you to be any grouchier in your old."

"Ha ha ha," you mock her dryly but deep down you knew she was right. It was that mutated, single-celled organism called a brain you both shared like any other friendship that lasted longer than most marriages. "Anyway, I'm surprised you let him stay over. You're usually so twitchy about anyone touching your stuff."

Tilla frowned and a sickly squirming feeling rose in your stomach.

"I didn't? What are you talking about?"

"Jimin said that until he'll find his own place, he'll stay at yours. Went to look for the spare key and everything."

She shot upright in terror.

"Namjoon! NaMJOONIE!"

Immediately, the doors burst open.

"What happened? Are you hurt? Are you alright?!"

“Did we actually say "yes" when Jimin called us about staying over?!"

"I did say "yes"," comes his bashful voice. "But I didn't mean it for him! I meant it for you, considering what we were in the middle of..."

These horny amoebas.

"You picked up the phone when you were having sex?!"

Tilla graciously ignores your outrage.

"Do we have any spare keys?"

"Of course, not. It's unsafe."

If group chat messages were true, then Yoongi moved back to Korea three months ago and Hoseok had left across the country to finally finish his degree in contemporary dance, that means -

A ring by the door.

- that you were the only one in the city that Jimin was familiar with.

You and Tilla exchange glances and slowly, annoyingly slowly, upon reaching the same conclusion as you, she blossoms into a broad smirk. When you rip open the door, the phone still in hand, you find Jimin there, knuckles suspended in the air, clearly not expecting the eager welcome.

"So, a funny thing -"

"JIMIN!! HELLO!" comes a scream from down your thigh.

"Oh, hello, Tilla!" he leans down to wave at her, smiling brightly. "You seem to not have left me a spare key, Mrs Kim-Hogen."

"Uh, yeah," Tilla glances nervously to the side where no doubt guilty Namjoon was hiding outside the camera. "Well, you know Joon, all butterfingers.""

"Or skilled fingers. Are those handcuffs I see?"

As he was leaning down, a chain previously tucked underneath Jimin's shirt falls out. It sways in the air, back and forth and you have this small but really rather intrusive thought. Would it sway like this in your face when he's on top of you? The thought vanishes with an aggressive shake of the head.

"Why yes, they are," Tilla purrs. "Whoever said that long-lasting relationships are a drag needs to find themselves a better partner. I'm the happiest I've ever been. Don't you forget it, angel!"

"Oh, I'm nothing if not a hopeless romantic, Mrs Kim-Hogen," and with that chain still dangling, he has the absolute gall to look up and meet your gaze. "Just my person's quite stubborn."

No. You're not doing this.

“Okay, well that's enough of that," you huff.

“WAIT NO! There's so much I want to ask him! What happened to the fashion show? What happened with Mi-Ran? Are you settling dOWN JUST FOR-"

You smack the phone shut, tired of serving as a tripod so these two gossipy bitches could discuss their sexcapades. No, you did not want to hear any of the details of what they both got up to, thank you very much. The thought alone left a sour taste in your mouth. The phone is tossed on the sofa. It bounces back and falls onto the floor.

Naturally.

Jimin crosses his arms behind his back.

"So," he begins awkwardly.

"So," you echo.

It's weird. You're strangers but not really. You're sweethearts but not even close. You're friends but were you?

It's all so very odd.

"I understand if you don't want me to crash here but on the off chance, if you say yes, may I ask?"

Smooth. He has engaged the Libra as Tilla would say.

"Yes," you dumbly answer, without hesitation gripping the door in a panic. You did not just agree to it.

Jimin too seems shocked. His eyes are wide and his mouth is falling slightly open. There's that crooked tooth again.

"Yes? Wait, yes, as in, I can ask or yes as in..." he exhales a shaky breath. "As in I can stay with you?"

"Yes, you can stay with me," you drawl. No, that was not what the shards of brain masquerading themselves as an intellect told you to say. You were meant to say that you're truly sorry and you wish you could but the space is simply too small to allow another person in. But as such you say neither of those words, the sentiment coming from your mouth is quite the opposite.

"You sure?" he clarifies and you roll your eyes.

"Do you want to stay on the street? Because one more -"

"No, no," Jimin laughs, hastily waving his hands. He's practically glowing and you turn to glance away. "I'd rather stay here, thanks."

"Well, then, come on in."

He shuffles inside and you note the lack of baggage. He also didn't have any in the coffee shop. The only thing he carried was an unassuming bag thrown over his shoulder.

"Chanel?" you point at it, with an arched eyebrow as he shimmies through the small hallway, trying to shrug his jacket off.

"What? Oh, no, an airport at...Berlin, I think. It's hard to keep track of all the places I was." Showoff. "Why Chanel specifically?" he grunts, kicking his shoes off. It's only by a miracle that you have spare slippers available. They were fuzzy and adorned with large cows but he'll have to suck it up. To his credit, Jimin doesn't even bat an eye.

"Oh, I don't know," you reply after a moment. "I just thought that Chanel was your breakout."

A teasing smile is back on his face and you turn your back on it, switching on the overhead lamps in the living room.

"Hmm, I wonder how you knew that."

"...Tilla told me," you stubbornly refute, peering into your fridge to offer as a snack.

"And not those magazines on the table?"

Your eyes snap to the offending objects, recalling that underneath the odd bill and notebook, there did sit a varied collection of Jimin's faces. Harper's Bazaar, L'Officiel Hommes. Pieces he knew you had no interest in. When drunk on a political debate night one night, you'd sparred with Namjoon for about thirty minutes about how journals like these were nothing but laminated drivel and the fact that they were grey was just about the only thing that differentiated them from yellow pages.

“Wrong subscription," you brush away and Jimin chuckles while taking in your house.

His eyes are wide and his gaze curious. With a reminiscent smile, he inspects your diplomas, most of which he was there to witness in the audience. You remembered, when you got your honorary diploma, the so-called summa cum laude, after long hours and tears and breakdowns. He had been the loudest to cheer you on. So loud, he, in fact, beat not only your entire family and Tilla combined but also made himself noticeable in the eyes of the university choir's leader. Your classmates had teased you on and on about what supportive boyfriend you had and you were so happy that day the distinction didn't seem worth pointing out. Your hands tighten around the fruit plate. Had he...liked you already then? No, impossible! Impossible. Wasn't he dating someone around that time? Christine? Magnus? Rosa? You couldn't even recall. The point was, there wasn't a day in university Jimin's life that was spent in a bed unwarmed. You smack the plate perhaps a tad harsher on the table than strictly necessary.

Jimin giggles on the side. Despite much of your protests, Tilla had hung up some of the childhood polaroids you both shared, making for rather nostalgic, albeit embarrassing mementos.

"Oh, my God, look at those cheeks," he coos, pointing at a five-year-old you, wrenched in a tin foil spacesuit. The combined result of watching both E.T. and Back to the Future a day before the "what do you want to be" theme day in the kindergarten.

"And the pigtails! This is gold. I must capture this!" he pulls out his phone and before you can throw something sharp in his direction, the mortifying embarrassment is already stored in his gallery.

"You share that to the group chat and I'll-"

"-emasculate me?" he finishes. "Yes, I know. I think you've threatened to do that over a hundred times and yet here I stand - still endowed."

"Don't test your luck, Park," you growl, arranging the final orange slices. "Any day now. It could happen any day now."

He snickers and sits down by the table.

“I like your home," he says, swaying a bit. "But why is it so small?"

“Oh, I'm trying to save up as much as I can. This place already costs an arm and a leg. Hard to imagine what bigger spaces would rip off."

Jimin pops a grape in his mouth.

“True."

“Do you want ramen, perhaps?"

He tilts his head.

"As a food, not as a pickup line," you threaten him with a knife that was used to cut the oranges. Jimin quickly tugs it aside.

"Sure. I'm just wondering since when did you get so nice? Did you miss me, perhaps?" he clicks his tongue and leans in with a mischievous smile illuminating his face.

"Don't say nonsense," you snap back but you did. Just a little tiny bit. Sometimes. On the oddest of days.

While the water boils you get down to business.

"There is only the couch that you can sleep on. It's a pull-out, but still a little small overall. You're okay with that?"

"I'm okay with a pull out though I much prefer the keep in method," he wiggles his eyebrows while leaning against the countertop. You push past it.

"As you can see there's not much to explore. The door on the left there is the bathroom, door on the right just this weird storage space. Any questions?"

"You’ve got a partner?"

You close your eyes and exhale rather dramatically. 

"Say goodbye to your penis, Jimin," you grimly mutter and move towards him with a melon scooper clutched tightly between fingers. He rushes backwards, laughing. 

"I’ll take it as a no," he blurts out, looking too unconcerned for someone whose life hinged on the kindness of your rotten soul. “It’s just so I would know what to do if someone rushes here while I’m there naked on the sofa.”

The water boils and you pour the packet into it, stirring absent-mindedly with Jimin’s eyes locked on the back of your skull. 

"And, of course, so I would know whether or not I’m free to seduce you."

You drop the seasoning into the water. 

"What makes you think you can seduce me?" you casually reply, fishing out the plastic. "It hasn’t worked in all the years we’ve known each other."

He crosses his palms underneath the chin, appearing for a second misleadingly angelic.

"Yes, but I wasn’t really trying then. All in all, it’s getting quite pathetic on my end to pine you after all these years." 

It’s just the steam from the pot, it’s just the steam from the pot, that’s why my face is so warm, you tell yourself. 

"So I’ll take this opportunity to be straightforward with you."

You really didn’t need for him to be any more straightforward. He already confessed - twice! - what was there even left to do?

“And if you’re not my girlfriend/my wife/my fiance by the end of this, I guess…" he trails off into silence. The humour in his voice had drained and you find yourself fearing the end of that sentence. As much as you would prefer Jimin not to waste his time on you, ultimately and with no little amount of heinous selfishness it would still sting to have these feelings be lost. You let out a small groan.

Make up your mind woman, you scold yourself, let him go if he wants to go. Yes, it's for the best. You and Jimin were simply incompatible. Worse than being two opposite magnets, you were brown and he was blue, mixing them together would just make a sludge, a neither that nor this colour which was both dull and unusable for any self-respecting artwork. Some people could be the opposite and meshed well, green and blue, Tilla and Namjoon, some, you and Jimin, was a no go. 

As you’re weighing the matter in your own metaphors, you don’t notice that Jimin never actually finished the sentence. The threat was largely only reserved for himself. “I guess, I’ll leave you alone.” But he never had the guts to say it out loud, scared that it would come true if he did.

Your eyes droop dangerously low. You and Jimin had made him a place to sleep, using decorative pillows and extra fleece blankets for now. He told you that his stuff was still being shipped. He had washed the dishes while you made a quick run to the store to get him some toiletries. He was given his towel and the apartment was coated in the small glow of the living room lamp. Quiet music was swimming through. Jimin said that he’ll turn it off. It was strange to have him here. To have anyone here. The second Tilla and Namjoon had gotten married, her absence gradually grew more and more until now she was in Australia. It was unusual, but you found that you didn’t mind it just yet. 

“Hey, __________,” Jimin whispered and your ears naturally perked at the sound of his voice, all the way from your lofted bed. 

“Hmmm?”

“Don’t….don’t believe too much what these papers say about me.”

There was a hint of frailty in his tone and you’re once again brought to the fact of how horrible these last few years had been for him. The times that he appeared in yellow pages were not tremendous in the count, but there was never a single good entry. Just the clubs, the arrest, the reckless spending and driving and so forth. 

"Don’t worry," you murmur back, eyes closing. "I never did."

At first, Sunday comes like it had a thousand times before - lazy with sleep weighted eyes, and the gnawing realisation that the fun is halfway over. Tomorrow is Monday and it’s just hours, once again hours away from Doing The Labour. It’s exhausting to Do The Labour. As you pull a pillow over your head, scoffing at the sunlight streaming through the window, you whine to yourself - you don't want to Do The Labour. But the hunger grumbling in your stomach is a stern reminder that you have to, want to or not. You lift your head up, groggy and squinting in the pouring light. You stretch, something cracks, and there's a persistent, mysterious ache somewhere in your back. Adulthood. But as you climb down, opening the window to let in the fresh, morning air, you glimpse at Jimin sleeping on the sofa. Dark hair messy on the pillow, soft snores rising from his open mouth.

The gust of morning breeze rips through the curtains and he shivers, instinctively pulling the blanket nearly up to his ears to protect himself from the unwanted elements. You smile and then for the first time in a very long time you allow yourself to sit and simply gaze into the city. Dogs and their sleep weary owners trudged in and out of the park, runners in their never-ending mission to make everyone else feel lazy took laps amidst the freshly opened shops, half-abandoned construction and the occasional stray cat. Together and separate - the life of a city.

And when Jimin wakes much has changed and yet nothing really. The Sunday like many before this one is spent quietly, with a nameless, bright cartoon in the background, coffee made, and yoghurt to be enjoyed. Despite what your fears always insisted, it's actually quite simple. You're still you and he's still him and you're both here in this small apartment, on this lazy Sunday morning because you want to be here. It's just that simple.

As Jimin shuffles over, still partially sinking into slumber, you quickly delved into a bowl of non-sugar non-fat diet no-additive greek yoghurt just not before sprinkling a handful of strawberries and half a pack of chocolate chips. 

Jimin smiles over his cup of coffee. 

“I like to eat healthily,” you establish, shaking the very last of the chips into the bowl.

“I can see that,” he bites his lip to not laugh and the chain around his neck dangles in the air as he reaches down to lay a light kiss on the side of your cheek.

© sor-vette, 2022

[seeingteacupsindragons]

Random ask, do you have any books (eastern or western) or manga/manhwa that inspire your writings?

An interested question about my writing?

Anyway, yes, obviously. Why do you think I write meta? It's so I can learn from things I like to figure out how they're written and what various pieces do, so I can consider how I might do them myself.

What pieces inspire what works depends, of course. I have a series of short stories that are pretty heavily inspired by JR--I don't think anyone who's read both hasn't seen the connection. They're very soft, gentle short stories about two men traveling around and solving domestic emotional problems and their magic is a blatant allegory for queerness.

And then one of the projects that's on hold until I can finish up the revisions I'm currently working very hard on is inspired partially by wanting to write a character dynamic similar to Sherliam's, "I saw you and you knew me, because the things about me that I thought kept me isolated were reflected in you." Like, the characters are a couple of disabled teenage musicians, not criminals or detectives, and they're not even rivals, but that vibe is something I wanted to capture specifically. And the much of the rest of the book is inspired by my job: I don't read books for work, but I came to terms with how much less I read these days than I used to when I remind myself I spend almost my entire day job reading things about a couple of very rare diseases and medications, and I've learned so much about them and the experiences they come with that they've filtered into my writing now.

The current project I'm working on, I don't know that I would say is directly inspired by any particular work. It's been a long time writing it and working on it and it's been very much a recovery project for me and a rebuilding of who I am as a writer and how I write as I pull myself out of a horrific writing crash. It doesn't have any strong particular elements from any specific thing like I mentioned above, but a lot of what I've learned over the last few years have gone directly into it in other ways.

Anyway, I think finding inspiration for your own art in art you love is vitally important. That art resonated with you for some reason, so of course it makes sense to radiate that back out--it matched some frequency of your soul, and your soul sends frequencies out in your own art. Finding a frequency of your heart you know and recognize can be a great thing to use.

Of course, there were some very Formative influences from when I was younger and still inventing my own writing style that stick around in some form or another. Zelazny's refusal to explain anything and trust the reader a little too much is the one I recognize most easily, but there are others.

And I think...I think YuuMori may have changed me fundamentally as a writer. I think about stories not completely differently, but in many emphasized and changed ways because of it. It's very different and its strengths are ones I've not often been drawn to, and it's so easy for me to pick apart and evaluate, and something I'm so impressed by, during a time period when I really needed to restructure my entire process and conceptualize stories, that...I think that's going to stick with my fundamentally for a long, long time. I'll write stories that don't look anything like it, I think, but the way it changed me as an artist will still be there, I think.