#IM NOT AN ARTIST BUT THE IMAGE IS HAUNTING ME I DID MY BEST

[no-oneknowsmyname]

etho was slain by goodtimewithscar

[furrbbyx]

This is an idea I had because I really really wanted the wednesday show to be part elvira, part body horror, part camp, and utrerly the same vibe as the old movies. Kooky. BUT GROWN

Anyway heres the first part of a fanfiction I never really finished, fearuring a naga. I'm editing this on mobile which is to say im not editing this at alllll.

Approx 2200 words. Do not reproduce or copy.

Warnings...uh....really soft vore. This is maybe sfw.

In a haunted warehouse in upstate New York, on any given weeknight you can buy a ticket and enter into a delightful, odd place where nothing you experience can be trusted. Maybe you heard about it from a coworker, or maybe you were drawn by the eerie blinking lights announcing

Wednesday World.

Wednesday World.

Either way, you will be ushered into a seat on risers that climb high against the brick walls next to a couple sharing a soft drink and a hotdog, or a family of five all trying to get the best view and coddle the baby who is out way past it's bed time. Each act will strain your sense of reality.

A fortune teller picks a victim from the crowd and reveals a terrifying prophecy of failed love in a scratchy high voice. Will the prediction come true?

A magician mesmerizes the crowd with increasingly dangerous tricks. Did he really conjure a demon in a fiery cauldron? How it all seems like a dream when you wake up in your bed the next morning in your normal house and go about your normal day, pretending those feats weren't all that impressive. But maybe you aught to go back and see how to do that that hypnotism trick.

Yes, maybe the curiosities of Wednesday World are only as real people want them to be. Yet that never stopped a show, nor the crowds, nor the money. As for Wednesday Addams, well nothing stops Wednesday.

On this night, a brisk October evening where mist floats over the vast concrete parking lot like waiting ghosts, the last act of the night is drawing quite a spectacle.

A hand painted canvas hanging on the facade of the building reveals the biggest attraction of the night and tonight it reads:

"Sinful Snake-Monster Man! He'll devour your soul!" in bright blood-red letters. Below the lettering is the image of a beautiful brown-skinned shirtless man with glowing yellow eyes and a imposing black-scaled hood flared around his face and shoulders. He's a beautiful and terrifying beast who's smooth torso flows into the thick coiled segments of a white bellied snake. The artist is quite talented as this snake-man looks like he's about to slither out of the canvas and start eating the people lined up to buying tickets.

The crowds press into the building from all entrances. Their warm bodies add to the heat and the heady undercurrent of anticipation, stopping the freezing cold of the winter night from dampening the hype. They mingle and writhe like a sinuous creature themselves until the mood of the room changes suddenly.

Cheers erupt from the stands, clapping, and whistling and laughing humans ready for their entertainment.

Ah, the Ring Master has entered.

"My gracious fans" The RM coos into the microphone. The smile and charisma in his voice cause another round of appreciative whistling.

"Heh, you flatter me! Tonight my lovelies the greatest exibit to date, brought to you by the one and only Wednesday World. The night cirsu of delights and horrors, magic and mystery, danger and daring! We cannot be responsible for the state of your brain after viewing this specatcle. Those with weak stomach have been warned!"

The RM lowers their voice and spins slowly in place addressing everyone in the room.

"Deep in the indus valley lives one of the most deadly creatures known to man! Thought o be a myth, a silly tale to scare the children."

RM wags their finger as a nervous chuckle goes through the crowd

"No myth however! We have found him! Captured by the skilled renowned snake charmer Ares Zarin!"

With a flourish the RM gestures to a tall lanky human man who has come from behind the curtain at one edge of the ring. His tightly curled brown hair is cut close to his head and shines with pommade. The white linen shirt he's wearing is unbuttoned showing his muscled chest. At his hip is a long wicked looking whip. He walks with a confident swagger into the ring smiling and greeting the now wild crowd with waves and bows. He stalks around the ring in his big thick jungle boots as if he's never known a day of fear in his life.

"Come now friend, aren't you a little worried?" The RM goads Ares as they exchange a hand shake and hug greeting.

"Well I've never met a snake I couldn't control" Ares says into the microphone. Quite a few in the crowd can be heard swooning over his easy confidence and good looks.

"I don't know, ladies and gentleman. No beast can love it's captor." The RM sweeps their arm to the curtain again where two brawny pale circus workers and pulling a huge cage into the ring. Inside the barred cage is the snake man. He's been adorned with golden jewelry and a silken wrap about his hips. He looks relaxed but there is an agitation to his shifting coils and flicking tongue.

A hush ripples through the crowd.

"Abomination!"

"Monster!"

Some cannot contain their fear, compulsively screaming in the face of their worst nightmare.

The workers bring the cage to the middle of the ring and await the RM's next words. They are simple. The crowd is already stunned.

"For your delight! and fuel for your nightmares, Wednesday Word presents the Sinful Snake-Monster Man and the Charmer!"

The men work at the locks on the cage and the door falls open before they scramble away and the lights in the room cut off leaving only an ominous spotlight on Ares. Ares looks unaffected, bored even as the sounds of the snake-man uncoiling itself fill the ring.

The susurration of skin is the only sound coming from outside of the spotlight. No one can see what's hidden in the darkness, yet they already know what waits there.

The crowd seems to cringe as one, as the tail of the beast whips out from the darkness. Ares leaps to the side, rolling away from the first strike then another.

A loud hiss of anger blooms in the darkness. Ares uncoils the whip from his waist and stalks towards the the edge of the light.

"Come now, my sweet. Don't be sore. We've let you out of that cage, show yourself to the crowd" He says, taunting.

The hiss grows louder. Ares jumps back. The beast follows him into the light fangs bared and its patterned hood flared wide and quivering. Ares laughs.

"You see, he's vain if nothing else!" Ares shouts to the crowd. They whistle and cheer in response! Some stomping their feet in agreement.

The snake-man curls and twists his body into the ring. He so big that his long tail seems to encircle the entire space, leaving no room for escape. Ares holds the whip loosely, watching, not ready to strike at the snake-man but he reaches into his shirt with the other hand and draws out a peculiar object. A smallish thing that looks like a long-necked little gourd with a doubled fife stuck into the bottom of it. There's a net of cowrie shells around the bulbus middle and the neck is painted with arcane symbols of protection. Ares lifts it to his lips and begins to play a reedy rhythmic tune charging the ambiance with an eerie feeling.

The song calls the beast closer. It sways to the music, coiling and slithering with unnerving grace towards Ares. And it seems the human crowd is just as hypnotized by the sweet soothing noise.

Outside of the glare of the spotlight  all of this fanfare is being closely monitored by the RM and the grunts, yes, but also by the proprietor of this unholy circus: Wednesday Addams. Below the circus ring, in her tightly locked office sits the genius woman and mastermind of this operation. Wednesday watches the act, the RM, and the crowd as they are captured by her surveillance system. In fact she watches the entire building, the grounds the receiving garage and the corridor leading to her office on multiple monitors spread across on wall of the room. 

Wednesday has grown into a bewitching, maniupulative woman, Her gothic style is a symphony of darkness and allure, embodied in her striking hair and makeup choices. Long ebony locks cascade down her back in thick waves, contrasting against her porcelain skin. Her eyes are framed by dramatic, winged eyeliner, accentuating their piercing intensity, while deep, burgundy lipstick adds a touch of mystery to her full lips.

As for her attire, she embraces her gothic sensibilities with a bold and daring ensemble. A mesh top, intricately patterned with occult symbols, hugs her curves snugly, revealing hints of skin beneath its web-like design. Paired with a flowing black skirt that sways with each confident step, she exudes an air of elegance and defiance.Her gothic style is a symphony of darkness and allure, embodied in her striking hair and makeup choices. Long ebony locks cascade down her back in thick waves, contrasting against her porcelain skin. Her eyes are framed by dramatic, winged eyeliner, accentuating their piercing intensity, while deep, burgundy lipstick adds a touch of mystery to her full lips.

As for her attire, she embraces her gothic sensibilities with a bold and daring ensemble. A mesh top, intricately patterned with occult symbols, hugs her curves snugly, revealing hints of skin beneath its web-like design. Paired with a flowing black skirt that sways with each confident step, she exudes an air of elegance and defiance.

She's anticipating the climax of the act, having watched the rehearsals between her current lover Kaliya and the cocky Ares. She licks her lips. The unnatural scene in front of her is quite arousing. To the crowd it looks as if Kaliya is utterly under Ares's spell, they feel safe now that the snake-man is under control. But Wednesday knows Kaliya is stalking the man. No mortal could match Kaliya in speed or strength, nor in the bedroom Wednesday muses. For a few moments she's hyper focused on the thick smooth-scaled muscle of his tail especially where the sharp human hip bones meld into his monstrous snake body. 

He sways in front of her on camera while she toys with a nipple, sore from the fang marks he'd giver her just this afternoon. The sheer mesh of her top gives her easy access to her puckering nipples.

Ares plays like Kaliya is occupied with the sound of the fife, sauntering closer to the swaying snake-man. Kaliya plays like a docile beast for the crowds, until it's too late that is. The sudden speed with which the man's tail grabs Ares distorts the air with a noise so ominous it causes someone in the crowd to scream in its wake.

"Look out!"

The fife flies from Ares's grasp as he's stunned by the hit. The vicious tail lifts Ares by his leg dangling him above the ground like a bunch of grapes. Ares recovers quickly enough to grab at a hidden dagger and lunges for the appendage wrapped around his leg.Kaliya's hiss fills the room setting off the crowd like never before. Screams erupt as the crowd watches Ares become wrapped in writhing snakeflesh up to his stomach, still held high and being dragged closer to doom. 

"abomination!"

"god someone stop it! he'll be eaten!"

"Kill the beast!"

Kaliya seems to transform before their eyes, his body vibrating and expanding the distinctive reptilian hood of his species making him look even larger than before. His jaw grows wide, unhinges with wet pops until a terrifying maw opens around fangs as long as a tiger's, glittering with saliva. With shocking quickness the constricting coils around Areas release him suddenly and he drops down Kaliya's throat before the man has a chance to scream. Kaliya makes a single gulp around the fat bulge in a grotesque feeding display of Ares getting devoured alive.

Finally the spell of spectacle is broken as the people panic and start stampeding out of the circus. Suddenly more of the burly, pale workers appear among them guiding the flow, trying to stop the worst of the trampling and pandemonium. The ring is filled with 5 men and the ring master, making a show of conquering the man-eating monster and trying to save Ares. Yet they need not have strained their acting skills in such a way. The illusion had done much better than anticipated. Not a single patron stayed long enough to see Kaliya pushed into the shadows backstage.

[vintagedoctor]

Fuck it we ball. Imma share my oc cuz i love all of them and i wanna explain everything abt them

i dont have a name for them yet sadly but i got a pretty good image of what they look like and the lore and all that and yeah... typical oc creation stuff.

so we all know i love plague doctors. i mean my pfp is a plague doctor (its a retraced steve (from owl house) art but with one of my ocs) and my username is pun on plague doctors and uhh i repost plague doctor stuff. so i love them. i cant explain why i love them so much. like ive thought abt it and i genuinely cant tell anyone why. i honestly think they look cool and mysterious and thats it.

my oc, as im calling them rn, is just "VD" which is my username abbreviated. its serving me rn but i know i should come up with an actual name. im thinking something like Vyn or Doctor Vyn or smth but honestly nothing fits. its *my character* ya know? so thats why im struggling on the name. but VD serves me just fine for now

bc im shit at drawing i use any oc maker at my disposal. at first it was picrews then it was minecraft skins, then it was heroforge, and now im making them in baldurs gate 3 character creator

so now, to introduce VD, either drawn as a half elf or tiefling, depending on how im feeling and what version character im using (ill get to that later)

heres what i think is the base version (in baldurs gate ofc) believe me id have put a plage doctor mask on them if i could

thats like the good version, ig. a paladin who is chaotic good and just wants the best for everyone but doesnt mind commiting some crimes to get there. i love them and is usually the character i make for video games since its closest to who i am. pretty easy to rp.

heres the basic versions for minecraft. i mentioned exploring the design thru minecraft skins so ill be showing them too. also im pretty proud of them. the second one is not a purple villager but instead a plague doctor mask. the second skin has tons of lore attached to it, actually. (and yes im ashamed to say minecraft rp lore too... that was a phase)

you can see there will be similar choices between all of them... uhh.. i love the color purple. i put purple in every thing i build because i love it and i cannot explain why. just like i cannot explain why i love plague doctors, i love purple. so yes every character will have some purple on them. i love purple

this version of VD is usually the avatar i use for everything. however that character branched off to a minecraft rp character (oh god.. yep)

this is canon VD... like *that* minecraft server. i was like 16 so everything from this server is gonna be a bit cringe. but this version of VD, who ill call cult VD, for reasons explained later, has much more of a explored personality. they are kind, helpful, naive, and also have a connection with an ancient elderitch diety that takes the form of a demon horse. i should probably explain that servers lore at some point huh? i honestly do just to get some closure from that server.

cult VD starts worshipping this deity, as anyone else would do right, which leads to the cult moniker. on that minecraft server, i always carried an axe as my weapon, so i like to imagine cult VD has a battleaxe as their main weapon of choice. this heroforge is old, before i decided to make VD a half elf / tiefling so thats why the ears arent pointy and theres no horns. but we will get to that. this naive version of VD eventually breaks out of the control of this elderitch deity but is still haunted by it for the rest of their life.

above is the picrew for this version of VD, which does have horns and pointy ears because i made this much later. yeah i know a jacket over a breastplate makes no sense but the picrew let me do it so i did it. (i made this a while ago so i dont remember my uh artistic choices)

VD during the possession had their own minecraft skin (cuz ofc they did, silly me)

this is definitely not inspired by anything. nope nope. its all original. dont @ me lol. i liked this skin. i think its pretty simple and screams of minecraft smp with "lore". it speaks of a simpler time ig. if this was dnd character, theyd be a devotion paladin. i think devotion to an evil god could be very interesting tbh. i havent been able to explore that yet but its smth to put out there.

oh heres some actual original art i did for cult VD. very nice :D

im still pretty proud of this, knowing i cant draw for shit and i did this like two years ago when i sucked even more at drawing.

this here is a little sketch of cult VD under some math work back in junior year of highschool i think? this is the first time i actually was pretty proud of my art. the expression and the hands and the axe all looked really good. i like it a lot.

i think of this character as priest vd or cult vd. i like having corrupt preist characters. its so cool. like that one line from hells coming with me. oh god i made an animatic with that line and i could not get the animation right. "I am the righteous hand of god. I am the devil you forgot." that line is like the backbone of who the character is. only thing is the character had run its course way before i discovered the song. yeah cult vd is like hells coming with me, the pitiful children (from jeremys perspective), and rule 4 - fish in a birdcage. ya know, trauma. i love trauma :D (for my fictional characters ofc ofc omg)

if i ever make a breakdown of my first minecraft server "lore", then anyone can see im gonna skip two iterations and move onto uh.. how do i put this lightly. uh... revenant VD?

IM NOT COPYING ANYONE I SWEAR OMG! or atleast.. i didnt mean to... its gonna get pretty obvious soon that i took much creative liberties from a certain minecraft server during the pandemic.

anyways my favorite version of VD because how much i could do with them. oh revenant VD is so fun. :D

revenant VD is the edgy, dark version but has tons of potential. thats why i love them so much. i used to associate them with hayloft II but not anymore actually. i think little pistol, laplaces angel, two birds, maybe what could have been, and saint bernard. being edgy for the sake of edgy isnt good characterization but angst for a reason is smth i love. they hate everyone bcuz the world has consistently treated them like shit and so the only way to actually cope with it sensibly was to treat others like shit back. but a variant of revenant vd i love is when they r crazily evil. like maniac and murderious. i just eat that shit up omg i love it so much. i got that religious trauma, the betrayal trauma, and the trust issues for them. i got it all omg i love this character so much. i can do so much with them so i think thats why i love them so much.

heres an idea of how they look. its pretty similar to how cult vd looks but more wild ig?

around this time my art started getting more coherent

i like this one. idk the face came out really well and it kinda shows how i wanted them to be. these were all sketches in notebooks during school when i was bored. i eventually got a sketchbook but thats further down the timeline

heres the heroforge for revenant VD. i loved the trenchcoat idea and the blood on the mask never going away. i remember watching someone in my middle school theatre class perform that one monologue from macbeth where the lady starts going crazy over the blood never washing away from her hands. this was a long time ago but it stuck with me. i really liked that symbolism of the blood still on her hands and how it means guilt of her crime. it was so cool. i ruined it by making it magical blood that never came off bc revenant was cursed when they initially died; edgy for the sake of it, which i previously said isnt a good place for a character. i think ive refined the design further but its lost in notebook margins and scraps of paper. such a shame.

revenant VD i like to think is associated with death in some way. maybe being an undead and filled with rage at the circumstances of their death, or being a proponent of death, like a reaper. i like those ideas. i actually made that concept

this is in my sketchbook. i think one of the first things i drew in it. i love that sketchbook. i love scythes, both the two handed and one handed ones. i think they work perfectly with plague doctor reaper characters.

one thing i associate with the modern version of revenant is like a apostle of myrkul transformation in baldurs gate 3. this ofc is if revenant takes on a more antagonistic role instead of being a pc. i love that boss fight and really think sometine like it could fit with my little revenant vd.

i think revenant vd would actually be many things. first obviously oathbreaker paladin but thats obvious. i was also thinking phantom rogue for all the allusions to death. they could also be an undead warlock. if i were to play smth similar to revenant vd in dnd, id make a phantom rogue undead warlock multiclass. i think it works surprisingly well actually. i could ask the dm to have my patron (death) collect soul trinkets like reaping souls on a regular basis and each long rest i need to consume one of them to keep alive.

oh yeah thats something else i really want to explore with this character. because they are undead i want to explore their need to consume life to keep alive. in minecraft i played around with the idea of them needing to break totems of undying every once in a while but honestly that was because i had a totem farm and too many totems for my shulker box. but the idea of them needing to consume some form of sacred life to keep their undeath is something i love and want to play around with.

anyways revenant VD is my most versatile character. idk how an evil character can do so much but they can. i love them so much.

the last character that originated in the minecraft server and one im still working on is doctor VD or Doctor Vyn.

i just want some appreciation for the second variant which i never got to use at all. i had to find it on my minecraft launcher instead on namemc because i never used it. i just love it but no one appreciated it. :( the undone tie im still so proud of

i just put this in cuz its so gender omg i love it sm :D

i just made this heroforge cuz i didnt have one. i never got to properly explore this character idea so its the one i keep trying to bring back. i think actually exploring the doctor part in plague doctor so thats why this iteration just keeps haunting me.

i think this iteration would be either an alchemist or artilerist artificer. this iteration was the last character i made for the minecraft server and it didnt go well. they were burnt out from the chaos they caused while serving death ig and just wanted to settle and research why they were able to come back. it was called "death research" and i had so many plans in minecraft. i should make a post about my ideas for the servers afterlife and stuff. its rough but i was trying. and def had no inspirations from that one minecraft server that everyone knew about.

this is the start of my descent into doctor madness. god i made so many ocs that r just doctors. i had variations of the artificer doctor and a rogue and i just went crazy. its still a character i want to play, ya know actually going into the doctor part of plague doctor. for now imma put a pin in the doctor research thingy and move onto season 2 of the server.

yes we had a season 2.

it had much less people than the first season and ran a couple months shorter than season 1. "lore" never started, not like how it was in s1. back then i was really disappointed but looking with hindsight, im glad it never got off the ground. we tried so many things. omg. but ill go over those later.

first: my character. i called them winterhold VD.

heres the skin i used for winterhold vd. i previously changed the mask color for a minecraft skin i barely used and so i did it here and it looks good. i think this skin looks more coherent than the ones from season 1.

heres winterhold vd with a little silly xmas hat. honestly playing in a snowy area while it was winter was really fun. it doesnt snow where i live so i kinda got that aesthetic in minecraft. it was honestly perfect. i loved building in the snowy patches and having large campfires and light sources to melt away the snow to clear paths. it was practical but also fed into our citys story.

anyways lastly we have the heroforge. i love this heroforge. somehow i managed to perfect replicate how the minecraft skin looked using the limited clothes in heroforge. the scythe makes an appearance for something explained later

i love this season a lot bc we had an actual theme. my group lived ontop a massive snowy mountain, almost like a plateau and i built viking like structures. it was so fun. the main "plot point" i remember was that we struggled with food for so long. we took over the village on the plateau and the farms were so sparse. there were like 4 of us that needed to be fed. oh also before we even got to the food problem, we had to fend off others since everyone wanted the mountain view. anyways, we had barely any food. i took charge and started growing lines of potatoes and wheat. if u dont know, in minecraft, growing crops in alternating lines actually make them grow faster. i cleared out a large patch in the middle of the village and spent days farming potatoes and wheat. i loved how the scythe ties that part of winterholds story in. we went from barely surviving and needing to jump off the mountainside to our dooms to refill our hunger to having a full chest of yummy potatoes. when we got access to the nether roof, my friend made her famous porkchop farm and we had even more food. it was such a good story from the actual gameplay and not planned at all.

but i had to ruin it, ofc.

i loved the story of us growing from nothing to a thriving nordic city so i decided to take it a step further. i thought it could be interesting if VD wanted more. they became obsessed with excess. they never wanted to run out of resources ever again. they started building more farms. more and more. farms we really didnt need, like a massive cactus farm and more crop fields. it was so much and we barely had any space to store any of it. finally VD asked their friend to expand the farms and build an industrial district far from winterhold. it was so far that the ice highway we built still took around 2 mins to get there. in that area my friend and i tried to build every farm imaginable. we got nowhere close. but it was definitely fun.

i really wanted to be the evil capitalist, something akin to how outer worlds is described in the fine print. but i never got anywhere close. that lore never shot off.

this server was in 1.19 so i really wanted to do something with sculk. so i started.. uh sculk research. this is going back to the doctor oc. i cleared out an ancient city and start slowly renovating the center out - i never got further than in the center structure. i was really proud of the little lab i made in the redstone area. it had test chambers and a library and a desk area. all pretty standard for a lab right? VD really wanted to study what sculk is and how it works. i as the person making the story and everything, kinda had nothing to go off of. sculk was completely fictional and original. (genuinely good job mojang). i had the minecraft "lore" vids from retrogamingnow and game theory but like i wasnt gonna copy those was i? i really wanted to do smth with the big portal in the center of the ancient city and sculk as a power source (i forgot which channel came up with that). i thought it could be cool if VD discovered how to open the portal and it led to the universe from s1. (yeah that multiversal shit everyone was tired of by 2023) but i really wanted to try it. it got nowhere. i had plans where the portal would open and revenant vd would step out, looking into the fresh new world to cause more carnage.

this is the skin i had planned for the whole thing. i have an alt acc i wanted to control along side my main acc. with hindsight, this would have been impossible to do to the scale i wanted. thats why this never got anywhere. i think this is where i realized i never fully got over revenant VD. this is a feeling that wont really go away.

we finally get the last iteration, as of now, of VD. it gets to be less of a character and more of just a persona for the current minecraft im playing on. i got tired of the doctor aesthetic and but still wanted to "research" so i created a wizard. honestly i just wanted an excuse to build with purple blocks. after some revisions, which are sadly public on my namemc profile i landed on

i love this skin. i wanted my whole aesthetic to be questionably evil. my base *looks* like it can be evil but the inside looks cozy and bright. theres an evil basement but nothing sinister has happened, yet. i dont think anything sinister is going to happen.

im taking a route closer to hermitcraft than rp servers. they make an aesthetic, build by it, maybe change their skin, and have fun rp moments. i like how simple that is. impulse, gem, grian, scar, and mumbo are all good examples of this. as of now, im tired of minecraft rp like i had it before. honestly ttrpgs are much better suited for this or just straight up acting. i will miss those angst moments and making skins for each "phase" of my character but the trend is dead and my friends are tired. the current server has been really clean of serious minecraft rp. its just been us fucking around for the most part. i dont want that to change. at this point im actively shutting down any attempts for serious rp. this is minecraft, we are friends, and we dont need to pretend to hate each other. it made keeping the actual friend ships hard. we barely scripted anything so everything was improv. BIG mistake first of all. but also that meant i had to come up with conflicts and deal with conflict while staying in character. i couldnt do it. it broke me and im glad im not doing something like that ever again.

anyways that that got deep. now i wanna quickly go thru some honorable mentions. personas im proud of but didnt need a whole section dedicated to them. oo boy, time to scroll thru my minecraft launcher

first up my desert cleric skin

i really like this one. i used in a minecraft event where we were all trapped in a big desert and had to make a village. it was my first minecraft event for that youtuber and i think i really killed the character. i made a temple and farmed potatoes for the people. food was hard to get and potatoes are easiest thing to farm. i was a "peace loving, pun slinging, potato farming person, definitely not copied from anyone else" i slowly became a favorite in the village, mostly bc it took a while to farm the potatoes and distribute them. im really proud of the muted purple mask, matching the purple robe. i tried it with my usual bright purple but it just didnt look right. this muted purple fits into the muted tones of the desert really well.

well now shoutout to the 1.19 update cuz

this one i love also. it kinda inspired the whole sculk corruption thing i was going for. i wore this skin sometimes but i could never find a fit for it. i guess i had it when 1.19 came out and was exploring it but outside of that and maybe "lore" it has no other use. ig other than looking cool. cuz it looks really cool.

oh god ok i do want to talk abt this one cuz i think its cool but oh god im gonna really make the furry alegations get worse

this was a skin i made for an origins server my friends had when that was popular. i was the origin "felvaxian" from the origins ++ mod. really good mod but holy shit was the felvaxian op. it was flavored to be a mix between a cat and crow but the naming scheme made no sense. i think it was an original idea, which.. like yeah made sense. it was so op but so fun. i had like a constant 9 block jump, took no fall damage, had an invisible elytra, the inventory from the shulker origin, constant night vision, and when i crouched i went completely invis. the only downsides was that i was a carnivore and i hungered quicker. we fixed that with a porkchop farm very quickly. but i loved the origin and that server dearly. i made a cat tree for a base. it was the perfect height off the ground where my jump could make it but no one else could get on. only other origins with movement abilities could make it which was very interesting. i actually was so happy with the design i made a heroforge of it

like winterhold vd, i was pretty proud of how this came out. it looked exactly like the skin. i later modded the pack to show the wings and get rid of the ugly filter, making this my perfect origin. i just love it too much.

uh next up has nothing to do any story or anything, i just wanted to show it off

im kenough

(if i couldnt get the actual sweater, i had to atleast get a minecraft version of it)

now to get festive. im just gonna show all these at once since theyre my festive skins

anyways happy halloween in summer, heh

ok tumblr is yelling at me because i reached the picture limit. so ill just make a part two. dang tumblr. i didnt know there was a photo limit. so uh yeah see ya in part 2

[lifecftheparty]

━ ☾ ✧･ﾟ “ he was full of light, in whom is no darkness at all”

  ʻ   /   let  me  introduce  you  to  a  prized  member  of  our  environmental club     ,   FAZIL IMANI .  this   CISMALE CANCER   has  been  a  student  at  our  institution for   4 MONTHS  and  is  currently  a  21  year  old   JUNIOR.   through  the  halls ,   he/him  has/have   always  reminded  me  of  aria shahghasemi   ,   but  there  is  always  more  than  meets  the  eye ,   like  the  fact  that  he sells his dad’s pharmaceuticals to fund his own drug addiction .  coral  cape  has  made  their  future  just  as  bright  as  their  smile ,   i  assure  you .  ʼ      (   muse 15 ,  aubrie ,  19,  pst,  she/her   )

↪  *:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧ 𝕗𝕒𝕫𝕚𝕝 𝕟𝕒𝕫𝕖𝕖𝕞 𝕚𝕞𝕒𝕟𝕚 

BASICS:

nicknames: fazi

pronouns: he/him

age & dob: july 14, 1998 ( 21 )

origin: carnegie hill, new york

nationality: american

ethnicity: iranian

fluent in: english, persian & a bit of arabic

occupation: drug dealer freelance artist

height: 5′11

sexual orientation: ???

major: biology & art

clubs: environmental club

↪  *:✧ background

trigger warning ! drugs, drug abuse, car accident, death

IMANI PHARMACEUTICALS  ━ a name you MIGHT recognize from the side of your zoloft bottle. from benzodiazepines to amphetamines, they specialized in at all -- A GREAT EMPIRE, built off of other’s sorrows and fazil was happily perched next to the throne. a family portrait, four heads adorning a thin-lipped line -- not a smile in sight. and just by glance, you could tell the family meant business. a serious group, all doctors, all their own achievements; a glistening image of PERFECTION, if not for the taint they liked to call FAZIL.

he didn’t mean to be a fuck-up, but alas, his body was completed with error and corrupted by bad decisions. THE FIRST BEING  ━     his art. an adorable skill, at first. though, like a flower, it started to blossom into more than a childish hobby, and that was when they tried to uproot it from the ground. oh, how his family DESPISED his art ; oh, how fazil despised his FAMILY -- it was a mutual passage of hate. really, painting was the only thing he had ever felt ambition for, otherwise a foreign feeling to the sullied son. he could care less about doctorate programs, but it was the path he was set on since birth -- a forced burden he could NEVER get rid of.

he lived to reject everything his family represented; the happy-go-lucky, irresponsible, reckless boy mirrored the solemn and dignified imani clan. taking to extremes to separate himself from those around him, he dived head first into the deep end. he began to get involved with drugs -- and lots of them. cocaine, xanax, morphine, you name it   ━ all were party favors in the new york night life, those in which he was more than eager to dabble in. the feelings of euphoria that would shine down on him where storm clouds once reigned, the wide smile that would stretch across his face, and the body, that almost felt weightless. the highs they produced were those of which he could not experience on his own, and like a foolish wanderer, he followed them down a rabbit hole -- their effects so tantalizing even fazil could not resist. OF COURSE   ━  he could stop if he wanted, but what happens when the bleary-eyed teen refuses himself paradise? shivers, aches, pain so sickening it would spew from his mouth. no matter how much he didn’t want to admit it, he couldn’t stay away. it held him in a choke-hold, ever-so slowly draining his life.

the result of making an already irresponsible boy forget the bounds of consequence? a totaled ferrari and a DEATH-- no, no, no, fazil wasn’t prepared for that. an unforeseen causality in the war with his family. god -- his family, how ENRAGED they were, his father noting that he had wished it was fazil that was the one lying lifeless on the ground. a plan had to be put into place, NOTHING could ruin this family’s image; not fazil, and definitely not a murder. a cover up was devised, could you be surprised? the imani’s were saturated with money, and with money, bought ignorance. and to save face, he was booted out to live with his brother in maine, and made to attend CAPE CORAL. nasty habits die hard though, and fazil’s fought back, refusing to lie dormant. no way could he be sober now, but how do you maintain your ever-growing addiction? WELL  ━   it’s crazy what a last name and a forged signature can get you. 

↪  *:✧ personality

on the outside fazil presents himself to be this happy-go-lucky, fun-loving guy. which, to an extent, he is. however especially since the accident he festers a LOT of shame, embarrassment, and remorse. he is so full of regret and it really does haunt him on how things went down. 

as said, he has a lot of shame. not only for the accident, but also his addiction and how bad it is. he would absolutely hate anyone finding out about either of those, and would probably get really aggro with whoever did. especially if said person tried to take his drugs away or something of that nature?? would not be a happy camper. 

speaking of, he cannot go without his drugs, and will literally do anything to obtain a high.

while he tries to reject his family, it does hurt him that he cannot appease them, insecure about the fact he really doesn’t live up to the family name.

on a happier note -- loves, loves, LOVES painting. really is one of the only positive things in his life, will gush on about it for days. if he shows you his art, he’d lowkey be so anxious for approval ( though he wouldn’t admit it ).

plant dad™ loves plants and the earth. if he sees you liter he WILL pummel you.

total flirt, has commitment issues and doesn’t realize it. kind of a fuck-boy but isn’t so brazen about...which is kind of worse? 

in general, he’s a pretty laid back guy, doesn’t care too much about status. but really what you see is what you get, he will not let anyone past the front he puts on! 

↪  *:✧ wanted connections

i want to say, first off, i am REALLY up for anything. pls feel free to throw any ideas my way i am sure we can work something out <3

best friend !! : someone that he just connects with more than everyone!! while he wouldn’t disclose much about his past, he’d probably let them in on more than he does with everyone else. and i mean lets be honest...there will be a point they find something out. imagine the angst....

someone he fools around with : i mean...im sorry he really is a fuckboy. he doesn’t mean to be though!! i think it’d be interesting to have someone he has a strong flirtationship with or something a little more ifyaknowwhatimsayin. i think it’d be cool for it eventually reach an unrequited love type of thing..whether that’s on his part or your muse. unless you just wanna keep it like they both kinda know what it is..and they’re both okay with leaving it like that. really up for whatever!

frenemies : yOU ALREADY KNOW!! the banter!!! the bickering!!! the annoying the hell out of each other!!! I WANT IT ALL

deep romantic connection : aka someone that really makes him tap into his feelings/emotions. really tests him as a person, and forces him to just really care?? this would be a slow burn thing but again....imagine the angst....

someone who knows/finds out about his secrets : this can tie into plots and doesn’t have to be just it’s own standalone ( if that makes sense ). but i think i’d really like someone just eventually figuring it out and kinda being like fazi ???  what are you doing ?? now this can come at an angle of concern OR maybe your character finds out somehow and hangs it over his head. I would also like to note that fazi came into the school randomly, showed up in the middle of the school year like nothing, and when asked about it he has a bullshit excuse. so mayhaps someone tries to really look into it and pesters him about it. and it makes him turn into the panic emoji 

customer : someone he sells drugs to, which btw! would only be over the counter meds his father makes !! the harder drugs he buys himself for his own collection 

anyhoot, that’s all i could think of rn but i’m sure i’ll add more in the future! and like i said, i am open to ANYTHING. please please hmu <3

[yongjoonkyk]

hello everyone ! i’m meg, a twenty year old currently living in est that uses she/her prounouns. i’m super boring and there’s not really much to know about me aside from the fact that i’m absolutely whipped for stray kids and i’m a huge ass nerd ! remember that and you already know me pretty well !!! yongjoon is a bit more complex and a lot less boring than me, so feel free to read more about him under the cut and get to know him too ! this is just a short summary with some bullets on my boy but you can read a full biography on my blog right here, so definitely check that out too ! last but not least, let’s plot ! you can like this and i’ll come to you or just go ahead and hit me up in the ims or on d*sc*rd @  i know you know lee minho#0420 !!! i can’t wait to get some fun connections and start developing yongjoon with all of you !

AHN YONGJOON.

* {   seo changbin + cismale + he/him   } — i see dispatch have found ahn yongjoon’s sns… they’re the twenty year old music producer, apparently, but i don’t know, they seem too fractious and heedless to work well as that. then again, according to their friends they’re also ingenious and tenacious, which could work in their favour. their aesthetic really seems to match song by artist and reminds me of a sleepless night accompanied by the soft glow of the bedside lamp, black ink stained notes scribbled onto tanned skin, headphones at the ready as they dangle around his neck, memories of melodies floating with the train as the sound of dropped coins and bills filled his ears & the feeling of darkness looming through the rips in his black jeans. someone said that the rumour that he secretly creates his own songs in which he sings and raps and releases them on soundcloud is true, but who knows what’s the truth?

MORE INFO.

--- TRIGGER WARNINGS: MENTIONS OF SUICIDE, ALCOHOLISM, PARENTAL NEGLECT & DEPRESSION.

born to two loving parents, had a pretty great childhood and was very loved & doted on when he was young.

his life was relatively easy until he was eight years old. on a seemingly dull afternoon, he found his mother dead in his parent’s bedroom, having killed herself.

after the death of yongjoon’s mother, his life changed pretty significantly. his father was uncaring and cold towards his son and yongjoon didn’t have a lot of love or caring in his life anymore.

soon enough his father began drinking, and began taking everything out on his son. yongjoon was reminded on a regular basis that he was useless, worthless, a waste of space --- whatever mean thing his father could think of that day.

yongjoon didn’t have much happiness in his life anymore, and didn’t have much connection to his mother whom had been the light of his life. the one connection he did have, however, was music.

he remembered her singing to him when he was little, remembered the music and the beautiful tones and her voice lulling him to sleep. on the night he couldn’t sleep now, which was most, he spent his time making music of his own. producing, playing instruments, singing... you name it.

through music, yongjoon felt connected his mother and found some form of contentedness. his love for music would bring him a lot of joy in life, but it’d also bring a lot of pain.

in his darkest days, when his father had given up on working, on his son, on generally living, music was there. he busked for money in the subway, at bus stations, outside of coffee shops. it wasn’t much, but enough to put food on the table once and a while. 

through busking, yongjoon’s life began to really look up. he was scouted by kyk outside of a coffee shop, offered his dream of performing music for a living. he trained diligently for two years for his debut with neXtgen --- but his music would soon bring him pain.

weeks before neXtgen’s debut, kyk decided that yongjoon wasn’t QUITE what they had in mind. he didn’t very their image, they’d said, and again yongjoon fell short. again, he failed. he began to believe all the harsh words his father had once said to them, those words that haunted him so tirelessly. 

despite kyk deciding he wasn’t idol material, his talent with music in production and intruments and even lyric writing was undeniable. they offered him a job as a full time music producer, and he was even able to try his hand at writing lyrics on occasion --- and it was much preferred to being homeless so yongjoon took the job.

he now spends his time writing and producing music for people living out his dream, and even though he’s damn good at it, he feels more lost than ever. and he believes now more than ever that his father was right about him all along.

EXTRA TIDBITS.

yongjoon is actually very talented ! he can sing, rap, write, produce and even dance pretty well if he puts his mind to it. despite that, he was unable to make his debut. due to this, he thinks he isn’t very talented.

yongjoon hasn’t totally given up on music --- he has a soundcloud ( i know, he’s a meme ) ! he writes and produces songs that he then sings & raps on, and releases them to the world ! he doesn’t have a huge following, but it’s better than nothing.

yongjoon is probably a bit more vulgar than he should be, but the way he sees it ? he doesn’t have much of an image to uphold anymore anyways. 

yongjoon is, in a word, unhappy. but he’s still trying his best to keep fighting --- maybe eventually he’ll actually win !

that’s all i’ve got for now ! stay tuned for a social media page & a connections page on yongjoon’s blog. for now, i’ve gotta lay down for work tomorrow, but i hope you all love yongjoon as much as i do and i can’t wait to plot with you all !

[ladyhawk-s]

“What a Halloween”

Summary: Tamaki Amajiki has always been a fearful person, even at the smallest of ages. However, making friends with Mirio has pushed him in ways that he maybe doesn’t want to know if he should be pushed in. Especially when it comes time for Halloween. Despite wanting to avoid all mentions of Halloween, Mirio decides that it’s time to celebrate his first Halloween and it’s one Tamaki won’t forget. 

READ ON AO3 / READ ON FF.NET

A/N: Hello hello! So obviously, it's not Halloween, it's actually....28 days after that (29 depending on your time zone) and I really have no words to explain. Rather, I just want to apologize heavily for the....month delay on this. I actually have been going through a writing rut since I'm graduating this semester and doing a lot of things that have been stressing me out so, despite me wanting to write this, it almost turned into a stressor. It's been rough and I have another 3 weeks of it being rough but I'm so happy to have this done! It was for the @bnha-halloween-bb and Im sure I will be shot by the mods with how late I am but it's at least here! By no means am I proud of it but it's done and I'm so happy to be able to share it with you guys despite me not being the most pleased with it. 

Rather, please support my LOVELY artist @nekosisterart who drew the piece for this fic:. They did such a phenomenal job with it and I'm literally shook. Not only are they amazingly talented but they are also super kind and sweet and just a wonderful bean and I was so honored to be working with them again. Really, go send all the love to them since they are super great <3 They put up with me during this whole thing and they are incredibly patient so I want to just WILL SMITH SHOW THEM OFF because they are wonderful !!! ----------------- Halloween was a strange time. In the past, it was a time where quirkless humans could pretend that they were beasts or have magical powers that sprouted from the palms of their hands. They were able to get candy by pretending to scare people with their fake powers and teeth and it was a day where the imaginable became reality.

But then quirks emerged and it threw off the balance that Halloween used to have. The fake accessories became real and people really developed features that originally were used for fear. Confusion swirled around people for a while on what to do for the holiday, wondering what to do next since there wasn’t much to fear anymore.

However, creativity burst in the people and Halloween was back in full swing, this time with an even higher intensity. People used their quirks to impress enough for candies and costumes became more elaborate. The horror cranked up to new levels and scary movies took on a different form that would have been eye wrenching in the past.

Even the little kids also took onto this new level. Before the age of four, they dressed up in whatever might have been cute or what their parents might have wanted them to wear. Then, when the quirks came in, that’s when the intensity started. Quirks shaped their halloween experiences and there was almost a competition on who could pull the scariest identities. School got involved in these activities and the school where Tamaki Amajiki and Mirio Togata went to was no different. The school encouraged students to go all out in their costumes provided that damages were kept to a fixable minimum.

But, while every classmate was discussing the plans of their costumes and how best to scare their parents day of, Tamaki wasn’t exactly in the same mood as them. Or rather, to put it into more simpler terms, he was absolutely terrified of Halloween and the horrors that came with it. Despite having the ability to transform his limbs into monstrous animals that he ingested earlier and possibly becoming more terrified than any recreations out there, something about the way tissue paper folded into itself and cheap fabric rippled on human skin just seemed to frighten Tamaki from where he was standing.  Even though his mother constantly coaxed him through the day, he still ended up shivering at the mythical creatures that haunted his nightmares with their bloodsucking and howls at the moon. Sometimes he could feel little bit marks on the base of his neck that his mother said was from his imagination but Tamaki knew better.

So when the topic of the Halloween festival came up, Tamaki was on the top of the list on not attending. The teachers brought their hands and wiggled their fingers when discussing the horrors they would experience. There would be a haunted mansion maze that was made to send a soul out of the body and there would be enough candy to have a stomach ache for a week after. Everyone bounced in their seats the more was revealed but Tamaki could only ball up his fists and hide his head beneath the comfort of his arms. Images of fright conjured up in his mind, though they might have been more exaggerated to him than probably the other students. Not even his mother offering to volunteer or accompanying him to the event was enough to make Tamaki go.

But a certain blonde child had that effect on him.

In other schools, Tamaki never really had friends. His social anxiety made him quiver in front of other students and teachers usually went easier on him due to it, though others couldn’t understand the turmoil that went through his mind and usually left him alone, saying he could go play with the teachers. Friends were never something he had the chance to experience and there was always that little voice that desperately wailed for that chance.

And that chance happened this year.

This year he transferred to a new school and had to be immersed with new faces. While moving schools was already daunting enough, the fact that these would be new faces that would judge him the same way others did only made this more anxiety filled. He could remember walking down the halls, holding the strips of his backpack with tight hands that paled from the strong grip he had. His introduction didn’t even last that long because he couldn’t express the words he wanted to and ended up sitting down earlier than expected. Tears budded up on the water line of his eyes and he couldn’t focus for the rest of the class.

Until a boy called out to him and finished the sentence Tamaki couldn’t. “You want to be a hero, right?” the boy asked back, reading the mind of the scared one. Instantly, within a manner of 10 minutes, he found out that the blonde child was called Mirio Togata, he had a permutation quirk that could only work if he held his breath (which he was still having trouble perfecting and constantly hit walls and other foreign objects that left little scars on the top of his head), and that he was a curious kid that spammed Tamaki with questions about his quirk and what kind of animals he could recreate along with the feeling he got when his limbs were changed to chicken legs. Somehow Mirio ended up finding out more about Tamaki than anyone except his parents had in his entire life and Tamaki wasn’t so sure what to do with that. He knew he should have been cautious and wary and making sure that there was some distance but….Mirio had that cheerful smile that was infectious and Tamaki tunneled into it. Which turned out to be the right action since he began to be Tamaki’s first friend and he would never regret ever allowing Mirio to be open with him.

Until now. Now Tamaki was really beginning to question his friendship with Mirio.

Unlike Tamaki, Mirio happened to be the head of the excitement club for this school event. Everyday he would giddly explain the preparations his father making to his costume and he didn’t give anyone any hints as to what he was going to be (although Tamaki knew him well at this point and this year he was going to be a werewolf with fluffy ears and a bushed out tail. To be fair Mirio did invite him to his house and he saw those pieces laying around that Mirio would bashfully brush off whenever Tamaki asked him if those were parts of his costume). Many times throughout the day, he would go up to Tamaki’s desk and tell him how excited he was for it and that he was looking forward being able to go this year since last year was a year of flu but this time, he stocked up on his vitamins and enough of cold medicine to defeat the toughest of runny noses. And he would always check up on Tamaki to make sure he was still coming.

Yes, Tamaki told Mirio he would go. It wasn’t a very smart decision at all, it actually had a lot of flaws attached to it but seeing Mirio’s bright smile made him cave in and go to the festival. Besides it was a bit more complicated than that. Mirio was Tamaki’s first friend. Never did Tamaki have someone who would go out of their way to invite him to their house for dinner or to a party or even to spend just a bit of time with. While Tamaki knew in the bottom of his heart that Mirio wouldn’t judge him or leave him alone if he said no to coming, there was still this pressurized feeling that he had to go. At least to go for the sake of his friend. It was a weird sense of paying him back for all the kindness he’s given Tamaki. Possibly making it up to him might have had better connotations. Whatever it might have been, Tamaki was now stuck with date filled of events that were only going to be frightening and enough to haunt his dreams for the rest of the year.

Since Tamaki vowed to eliminate Halloween from his calendar, he never had to worry about making or even purchasing a costume. It was something that never crossed his mind and something that didn’t seem like it would be used anytime soon. Except for the fact that his initial plans to sit at home and watch cute shows were now tainted with going to a festival where the dress codes skewed to fit varieties of costumes. He initially tried to think of casual costumes that he could make using the items in his closet. However, when Tamaki brought these ideas up with Mirio, his friend cried nonsense and the next day came with an old vampire suit that was only worn once by its owner.

Every day, it was a reminder that Halloween was soon approaching and every day, Tamaki wished time would slow to prevent it from coming. But before anyone could stop it, it turned into the night of Halloween.

With a small bucket in the shape of a pumpkin, little Mirio Togata waddled through the sidewalk in his super secret and special costume of a werewolf. It was more uncomfortable than he had originally expected, especially with the tail bunching up near the gap between his legs, however he worked hard for this costume and nothing was going to stop him. He could endure it for a small bit.

After receiving looks and grins, he finally made it to Tamaki Amajiki’s house. In retrospect, they didn’t actually live too far from each other. They only lived a couple of blocks away and those blocks were covered with enough sidewalk and light that his father felt confident he could walk there by himself without being hurt. It also very much helped that Mirio had a quirk that allowed him to sink away in case so Mirio could only grin and be excited. His hands produced a small but mighty knock on the door, creating little pounds of noise that echoed within the house. At first nobody answered. But that didn’t stop Mirio from producing another round of knocks until the door opened to reveal a tired looking woman with bags ringing around her eyes.

“Oh hello, Togata. How are you?” She asked with a strain that was attempted to be covered in smiles but failing at every turn with that. Small wailes waved from behind her and the crinkles of her eyes pierced inwards. There was a tired and exhausted look seeped into her eyes that made Mirio feel bad for Tamaki’s mother.

“I’m doing well, Ms. Amajiki. Is Tamaki home?” Mirio asked, though he already knew the answer. Even at his young age, he still knew the fine motors of manners.

“Yes he is. Tamaki!” She called from the door. Silence. “Tamaki, your friend is here!” She yelled once more. Even more silence. Suddenly, the wails from earlier resurfaced and his mother’s eyes winced at the emergence. “It seems as if he’s huddled in his room, you can go in,” she said while giving room to the blonde boy. The second his body entered through the frame, she shut the door and quickly ran over to the screams, leaving Mirio by himself in the vast house.

With the layout of the house engraved in his mind from his countless visits, Mirio traversed through the halls to reach Tamaki’s room. It was hidden in a corner of the house that had shadows covering the darkness of the door, perfect for a person who couldn’t handle much of the sun beaming on them. Coming to the door, Mirio pressed his ear against the wood to hear any remnants of life. Silence. Tamaki sure knew when to be quiet when he wanted. Mirio’s hand went towards the knob and he cracked it open to find the room shrouded in darkness. “Amajiki? Are you here?” He asked softly, stepping onto the carpeted floor. There weren’t any visible signs of his friend but little whimpers came from the under the desk that stationed against the opposite wall. Mirio took careful steps before he crouched to see Tamaki’s directly. “Amajiki? What are you doing? Are you ok?”

Hearing Mirio’s voice snapped Tamaki out of the tunnel he found himself immersed in. Since putting on his costume, he found himself jumping at even the small sounds of wood shifting or the steps coming from his parents. He didn’t much remember how he exactly ended up in this position and what crossed his mind to end up underneath the desk but he wouldn’t lie, he didn’t exactly want to leave his spot. “It’s….nothing…..” Tamaki said softly as he crouched further into himself.

Until he felt his arm being pulled away from his hair so he could see the concern on Mirio’s face directly. “Then why are you under here?” His friend asked softly, his head slightly tilting to show his confusion.

Seeing that look made Tamaki’s eyes wander around as he thought of what to say next. It wasn’t necessarily that he was avoiding his look but rather, it was his way of trying to formulate all the thoughts that floated around in his mind. He didn’t want to go but he wanted to make Mirio happy but would this really make Mirio happy? So many thoughts ran through his brain and they could only come out as little stutters from the tip of his tongue. “I’m….I’m….sc-scar-re-d….” He managed to speak out, albeit in chopped syllables. His eyes closed once more to go back into that fantastical hole that he created in his mind.

“Why are you scared, Amajiki?” A tiny voice spoke out, making Tamaki reopen his eyes once more. Mirio’s beady eyes crinkled in worry and his mouth gave a small pout that contained a small frown in it.

Once more, Tamaki’s eyes diverted away from his and he could feel small tremors coursing through his body. He took a deep breath in. “I...don’t like the monsters...I don’t want to be hurt….There’s scary sounds and scary people and…I don’t...like those things…” he rambled on, trying to make sense of a situation that had no sense to it.

Tamaki then felt Mirio place his hands into his own and squeeze them tight in the darkness. It was hard to fully make out the emotion that was seen but it almost had a brotherly love attached to it. “There’s no reason to be scared Amajiki. All of it is fake. No one will hurt you.”

“B-but...how do you know?? They could jump out and...and….”

“Amajiki, I won’t let anyone or anything hurt you. I promise. Just trust me, ok?”

Tamaki wasn’t sure if it was that or the exchanges that happened back and forth but soon, having Mirio be someone to lean on, he managed to emerge from under the desk. Things turned into a blur and he didn’t exactly remember how things turned out. His mind went back and forth and switched off reality in moments. One minute, he remembered being in his house and the next, he was outside, walking alongside Mirio. He could hear Mirio speaking talking about different subjects but none of it truly registered in his head. The only thing that went through to him was the calling of his name and his cape fluttering around his feet. There wasn’t a measure on how long they were walking but the quiet winds of the streets gave a sign that they were heading to their destination but not quite there.

Unfortunately, soon enough, the sounds of goblins and ghouls began to mix itself into the winds. The duo reached the school that had been transformed from a clean, pristine building into one with cobwebs stringing from side to side and splotches of black smearing down the side. Animatronic screeches loomed from the interiors of bushes that came with cackles of lightning rotating in.

The closer they reached, the more Tamaki’s teeth chattered with little clicks that echoed from his mouth. His arm gripped tighter onto Mirio’s, holding onto him super tight in this special type of fear that came straight from horror films.

Yet, funnily enough, Mirio looked complete opposite from his friend. His beady black eyes shone with little stars twinkling in his pupils and his mouth formed a perfect amazed gap that was filled with wonder and excitement. If his tail had any form of reality behind it, it would have wagged ridiculously back and forth in this childish excitement that fit for his age. “Woah, that’s so awesome!” Mirio exclaimed, his feet bouncing up and down that made both him and Tamaki bob in unison. “C’mon, we gotta hurry!” And with that last push of pressure, Mirio took their still steps into a run that skidded through the dirt and landed them within the depths of the festival.

[They see a bunch of different costumes and there are some people trying to scare them which works for Tamaki but Mirio is chilling and such]

It was corny to say but it was something of another realm. The school was known to have proper clothing that seemed to be ironed onto skin with serious expressions that could make anyone be stiff. But this, this was something else. Baggy costumes of all kinds floated around with buckets in the shape of pumpkins being swung around. Teachers that only knew how to wear suits wore elaborate costumes with fancy trims and delicate lace that showed their own pleasure into the spirit of the holiday. Even parents took the occasion to wear outfits that uniformed themselves to their children and little cheers and claps came from them as their little monsters performed in excellent ways.

While Mirio took in all the sights and engaged himself at all the beauty surrounding him, Tamaki, on the other hand, began to tremble even harder. If it wasn’t for his ill formed pants, one could be able to easily see his knees buckling within themselves, his kneecaps bruising from the small bangs they were doing. His arms latched even harder to Mirio’s werewolf costume and, if no one knew who he was, they would think that he was actually the wimpiest vampire to ever exist, even more than the ones from the popular series, Twilight.

“Boo!” A voice ringed from behind, echoing within Tamaki’s ear. Fright surged up his spine and he collapsed into Mirio, sending them both soaring into the ground. Tamaki could hear some exchanges happening before a hand shook his clothed shoulder. “Hey are you alright??” Moving in whimpers, Tamaki took in the sights in front of him. The hand that shook him out belonged to Mirio while the adult removed the mask that covered his face to reveal a scared and worried face. Still in a form of shock, Tamaki could only manage a nod before having help from Mirio to stand up. “Oh goodness, I’m so sorry. I didn’t expect this type of reaction. Are you hurt? I can run to go get some stuff,” the adult said, his hands raised to offer any assistance that was needed.

Tamaki only could shake his head while Mirio grabbed onto the sides of his body to keep him steady. “Don’t worry sir, he seems alright!” Mirio responded for Tamaki, coaxing the situation to a calmer state. While Mirio and the man exchanged reassurances, Tamaki looked himself over. To his surprise, there was only a bit of dirt that caught onto his cape from the fall he made that easily was brushed off with a few swipes. When he focused back onto Mirio, the other two exchanged final words before Mirio looked back at his friend with upturned eyebrows. “Are you ok, Amajiki? You didn’t get hurt or anything?” Tamaki shook his head once more, leaving Mirio to check him more thoroughly. After a few swipes of his own, he focused back on his friend and smiled. “Well, why don’t we play some games for a bit? There’s a lot of activities that I am sure we can fun with. C’mon Amajiki,” and hand in hand, they walked into the fairgrounds.

Although it was covered in more halloween decorations and spooky accessories, the games all inherently had the same themes that were present in a regular festival. Ranging from shooting games to activities that involved heavy amounts of bobbing objects, there were children covering each inch of the booths. Little shouts came from the games that signaled activity and beckoned the two boys to join in.

At first, it was a bit difficult for the boys to get into the fun of the games. Costumed kids pushed each other to get to the front, even ignoring the cries from adults that tried to have a semblance of a line. Mirio managed to dodge the hits from the other kids but that didn’t exactly work out for the other boy. Bruises started to form on the top of his skin and multiple times he had to reach out for Mirio when he felt himself being separated from Mirio. At first, Mirio didn’t realize what was happening but when he almost got upset at Tamaki for bumping into him, then those same kids learned well to keep their distance.

After minutes of trying to find that perfect game to play, the boys managed to find space in a game that involved the test of aim. This was a game heavily seen in America that was brought to their festivals time to time and it involved throwing balls into moving vases that circled around in a spiral frenzy.

“Hey, you two! Come try out your aim! Get the ball in the white cup and get a prize!” The attender called out to them, beckoning them closer.

“You wanna try this, Amajiki? It looks like it would be pretty fun,” Mirio asked his friend with a soft yet encouraging tone. Tamaki gave a light nod and he pulled them up to the man. “We would like to try sir!”

“Excellent!” He then dipped lower to pick up a series of balls that balanced themselves on his palm. “Who’s up first?”

“I’ll go!” Mirio volunteered, raising his hand up really high to showcase his readiness. Exchanges happened between them and he bounced on the balls of his feet, gearing up to showcase his aim. “Alright, here I go!” And he began to aim at the moving cups.

If anyone separated the scene into two different parts, a person would believe that Mirio was winning due to the smile and determination that created creases on his forehead. However, the balls ended up nowhere the moving vases. Despite adjusting his strength in different conditions, the balls would roll around in the rims of the cups until they bounced off into the water. The last throw almost made it in, that is until a gust of wind blew it off.

“Sorry about that, young boy. You’ll do better next time,” The attender tried to encourage while collecting the fallen balls to dry them for the next game.

“Ahhh! I was so close!” Mirio grunted out, placing the bottoms of his palm into his eyes.

Tamaki didn’t say anything but he knew that Mirio’s light heartened frustration was actually bothering him much more than what he was letting on. Each time he threw the ball, Tamaki saw the small glint that would cross his eyes that came from the desire of wanting one of the plushies. It wasn’t clear which one attracted him and pushed him forward in determination but knowing his friend, he had a good idea behind.

“I….I would like to try….” Tamaki spoke up, raising his hand shyly. Eyes snapped towards his comment and he tried to hide within his cape until the balls of were thrust towards him. Smiles went around that pushed Tamaki out of the shell he was hiding under. Even Mirio gave a slight cheer and nudged him forward.

Pressure began to build up around Tamaki and his throat kept swallowing down the anxiety that formed lumps in his throat. This was exactly why he never put himself into any type of sports or performances and he almost brought back the balls until a glance at Mirio built in a push of confidence.

Nowhere around the stand or even in the neighboring areas were there mentions of the usage of quirks. There wasn’t anything stated outright that quirks were banned from the fairgrounds. Yet, Tamaki couldn’t help but feel a little guilty at the gasps that erupted when his arm transformed itself into a tentacle from the octopus he ate earlier in the day. The thin endpoint carefully wrapped around the first ball, suctioning it into itself the crevices. With immense precision, he brought his tentacle closer to rotating balls and focused in on the scarce white cups hidden within the sea of color. Their slow pace seemed to speed up within the energy of pressure but Tamaki focused in his senses and flicked it right at the moment his gut told him to do so. Time slowed into a blur that put Tamaki in a haze until Mirio’s shouts and screams pulled him out.

“Oh my gosh, Amajiki!!! That was awesome!!! You’re so freaking cool!!!” Mirio bounced around, going in and out of hugging his friend with a type of spastic energy. It took Tamaki for a second to be brought back to reality but when he returned, he saw the smiles on everyone’s face with the ball resting peacefully in the white cup. Little tugs pulled up on the corners of his mouth and he couldn’t help but feel a tad bit of pride in that. And each moment he managed to get the balls into the desired cups, he could have sworn he felt a little lighter and the shouts were a bit louder.

“My, my, my young lad! Even with the use of your quirk, you did a marvelous job! It’s a rare sight to see for sure!” The man complimented before jerking his thumb towards the prizes surrounding the back frame of the tent. “You can get whatever you want! You can get 4 small prizes, 1 big one with 2 other small ones, or even 2 big ones! Whatever you want!”

Immediately, his answer was met with Tamaki pointing at the big large plushies that were constricted by the large cords. “Are you sure you want those?” Which was met with a strong nod. “Well, alright, give me a second,” the man said as he climbed out of the stand and pulled out a small ladder. He struggled a bit with the tightness of the cords and even gave a small curse under his breath with his hands twisting them around. However, soon enough, he managed to get them down and presented them towards the small child. “Here you go! Enjoy!”

Tamaki brought the two plushies in and almost doubled over in the huge weight that it was creating against his fragile body. He had to set them down on top of a cleaner patch of the ground in order to figure out his bearings. With a small breath in and out, he reached for one of the plushies and hid his face behind it as he turned to Mirio and brought his arms forward. “This….this is for you…..” Tamaki said quietly, a small blush fired up in his cheeks.

He couldn’t see well behind the toy but he could definitely hear the gasp that came from his friend. “Really!? It’s for me!?” Mirio shouted back, forming an image of bouncing feet in Tamaki’s mind.

“...yes….” Tamaki responded softly, his head bobbing slightly in a nod. He pushed it towards Mirio even more, hoping he would take it soon since it was starting to be heavy in his arms.

That hope soon was answered when Mirio took it from his hands and hugged it within himself. “Thank you so much Amajiki! You’re such an amazing friend! It’s the best!” His friend spoke, though there was a small waver in his voice that threatened to release tears. However, once Tamaki picked up his own plush and a cough came from Mirio, the same excitement burst back in. “Let’s go Amajiki!! There’s still a lot to see,” and with that, the boys went off.

It was a bit silly to see two small kids with toys half their size but they somehow managed to traverse the grounds will small peeks of their toys’ shoulders and using the sounds of nearby footsteps. Fortunately, Tamaki recently ate an aquatic animal that had the ability of echolocation so he managed to traverse the grounds while making sure him and Mirio to submit to their sudden deaths. He could hear little sighs of protest coming from Mirio with his inability to see but Tamaki actually enjoyed the lack of sight. His plush kept him in a fuzzy darkness that was comforting. It almost made this experience fun and enjoyable.

“Hey Amajiki! Look! It’s a haunted house! We totally got to go to it!!” Or maybe not.

Tamaki pushed his face more into the back of his plush, smashing his face in enough that it was as if he completely disappeared from sight. “Do...do we have….to?” He asked softly, his tone carrying hesitation, though the indentations muddled within the soft core of the plush.

“Of course we do! This is the biggest thing here! I’ve been looking forward to that all week!” Mirio responded quickly before doubling back a bit and tilting his head towards his friend. “I mean, unless you don’t want to go. It’s fine if you don’t. I won’t make you,” he added, though there was a hint of sadness within it.

Tamaki heard that and peeked over at his friend. Selfishly, he wanted to take on that offer and walk away and never look at it again. Mirio did say that they didn’t have to do it so the lack of pressure dissipated. And yet, Tamaki couldn’t do it. Seeing the lack of glint in his eyes made his stomach turn in different directions. He had never seen a frown on the blonde boy and yet, there it was. And it wasn’t as if Mirio was doing it to make him feel guilty, rather he would do whatever Tamaki desired and needed and would always put his friendship first. Which is why Tamaki had to change his answer. “No it’s ok….we can go….” he muttered to his friend, his voice quiet but still present enough to hear.

“Really? Are you sure? We don’t have to if you don’t feel comfortable. I won’t pressure you,” Mirio  responded back, his voice still sincere and worried, yet Tamaki could tell that there was a small little glint in the corner of his eyes. Already feeling regret bubbling inside of him, he nodded his head, affirming his previous words. Suddenly, the saddened face Mirio wore turned brighter, shining in the midst of the darkness looming around them. “Wow, you really are as bright as the sun Tamaki,” he said, though Tamaki couldn’t help but look at the irony in his statement. Then, he felt his hand being intertwined with his friend and he peeped up to see that Mirio beamed at him. “C’mon, let’s go. Don’t worry, it’ll be a lot of fun! I promise! And if you’re ever scared, you can always hold on to me.”

And with a little affirmative noise from Tamaki, the duo moved towards the haunted house.

Not surprisingly enough, there was a line of all ages shooting out from the door of the maze. Jitters and laughs came from the line while screams of those interior echoed against their excitement. Mirio kept bouncing on the balls of feet and moved around the sides that pulled Tamaki along with his movements. Having Mirio’s anxiety to get in only fueled Tamaki’s anxiety to go in, the screams and commotion only intensifying it even more. The shy boy even had to disappear once more into his plush until he heard a grunt. His dark eyes shifted to the owner and the first thing he saw was a teacher wrapped in bandages to a point where any recognizable features were gone. Dark patches of makeup covered any exposed areas of skin, looking as if they crawled out of a casket that buried them alive many years back. Only grunts came out of their mouth but they did hold a sign that stated, “Please leave all belongings in the cabinets to your right!”, to which Tamaki peered past them and saw kids cluttered around the lockers.

Tamaki was about to protest this rule when Mirio pulled on his arm to guide him along the way inside. “We gotta hurry Amajiki! We don’t want a bad spot!” Which was a reason that made Tamaki tilt his head in question but soon became clear when he saw Mirio shove other kids to have that cubby that was the right size for their plushies and bags and that wasn’t too high nor too low. Tamaki froze in the midst of the squandering children so there was a little bit of grace when Mirio took his stuff and placed it right next to his own. It took a bit for his friend to come over back to him but soon they were reunited and Tamaki’s arm began to pull out of his socket with Mirio dragging him along.

The mere second Tamaki laid eyes on the darkened door frame with pieces of stained fabric ruffling in the entrance, he could feel his soul seeping out of him, leaving his body into a frozen state. The only reason his feet kept moving was because of Mirio’s insistent pulls that drove him further into the tunnel. However, when the blood stained fabric brushed against his skin, the shock that froze his limbs shattered into millions of pieces and the adrenaline of fear zapped into him. Shakes covered his whole body and nails dug deep into his friends arms.

Eerie sounds echoed around them that contained jabs of snarls and henious jackal laughs. Hidden speakers scattered around the hallways, making the boys feel as if it was all happening right next to them. Splashes of red light illuminated parts of the hallway to help them find passage, though the first thought that came to Tamaki’s mind was that it was meant to help them lead the way to sudden death. Little ooo’s and aaaa’s came from Mirio and Tamaki questioned in his mind if his friend actually understood the negatives of this maze.

A dead end appeared at the end of the hallway with a window that had shadows dancing behind it. By force, the boys had to turn right with a darkened shadow peering off the left next to the ghostly window. With focus on getting through the new hallway in front of them, neither of them noticed a grotesque female in a tattered dress with zombie holes pushing herself out of the shadows, shouting monstrous noises while curling her clawed hands. Screams bubbled out of the boys and they scurried forward in fear she would be trailing behind them. In that scurry though, they didn’t notice a barn door slamming open and having a bloodied farmer popping out, reaching his arm for the boys to grab on help. However, before they could register the need, a horrific figure seeped behind the farmer and pulled him out of view that soon became replaced with sounds of hacking skin and blood bubbling screams. It felt like a scene from a horror film and Tamaki dug his face more into the crook of Mirio’s neck.

As they continued forward, the horrors turned more into sickening nightmare. The boys pushed through heavy black straps that greeted them with deafening chainsaw sounds. The scenery changed from a dark interior to a red lit farm. Glossy sheep and cows laid strewn on the turf, blood painted on the plastic surface. Bumpy paper mache trees stood tall, almost looking too calm in the scene of horror. They took more cautious steps, looking at the details and getting lost enough to distract the actions in their peripheral. Shooting behind the stationary tree was a younger male with a crumpled mask and plastic knife, charging after them with theatrical groans. Little screams erupted from the kids and they ran with adrenaline pumping in their system.

They pushed through to the next hallway and caught their breath in silence while listening to the whispers of halloween music in the background. Tamaki doubled over and placed his hands on his knees, wheezing from the creatures that popped out at him. He only paid attention to his breathing until the positive energy of Mirio snapped him out of it. “That….was awesome!” He heard Mirio say. Tamaki brought his eyes upwards and saw a gleaming smile on his face, completely serious on his comment. Mirio twisted to his friend and gave him a boost of encouragement. “Are you doing alright, Amajiki?” Tamaki wanted to give a big no along with running in maddening circles but he knew that the only way out was through the tunnel. He gave Mirio a nod and his friend stuck out his arm for him to grab. “Don’t worry, we’re almost there. Just a little bit more!” Mirio continued on, waiting until Tamaki grabbed his arm. “If anything, just close your eyes! Don’t worry, I won’t let anything to you. That’s a promise!”

Tamaki could only nuzzle into his shoulder and nod his head in response. Walking forward, he could steal hear the exaggerated halloween music playing in the background with screams and bangs hitting against the areas of the maze. He could also hear Mirio’s screams that were filled with more of a shock than any actual fear. Tamaki could occasionally feel slimy objects pressing against him or even the cold slivers of chill running up his spine when passing through a new hallway. However, no matter what ran through his mind and whatever colors flashed behind his eyelids, Tamaki made sure that they were kept shut as they traversed through the maze.

Then, a little glimmer of light seeped into his closed lids. He opened them to find a glowing hole, like the light at the end of the tunnel. True, there were hanging corpses and fragments of web shadowing over it but that went over Tamaki’s head. It meant his escape, the end to the horrors he had to endure the while he was stuck here, clutching onto Mirio’s arm and only having his laugh comfort his screams.

“C’mon! We’re almost there!” Mirio exclaimed loudly while pushing the hanged body out of the way. Their steps trudged through the wood flooring and the creepily placed tissue paper that stuck their feet into the ground, as if the maze was trying to keep them within the walls. However, with force, the boys pushed through. It wasn’t easy or fun or even comforting for Tamaki to have to push through hanging corpses that shared deceased eye contact with him with pieces of their toilet paper wrappings brushing against his skin. Nor was it easy or amazing to have to touch anything that had death and blood slime all over it. Yet, the light was getting closer and closer and the chills on his arms subsided and his eyes were screaming in adjustment and it kept going and going until….

They made it outside.

At first, it took Tamaki a small while to adjust to his surroundings. The fairgrounds had completely different vibes than what was shown in the maze. While the interior of the house was decked in horror and fright, the fairgrounds brought him back to the happier side of halloween with candy and costumes running around. Tamaki could feel his heartbeat calming down at the sights of comfort around him. Even his breath slowed down and the hyperextension of anxiety twirled down to a more easy rate, one that he was more used to.

“Congratulations for getting through the maze you guys!” A teacher in a witch costume encouraged. In her hands were little pumpkins buckets filled with all sorts of sweets brimming at the top. “Here, take this you guys. You earned it! Don’t forget to pick up your stuff!” She said with a sweet smile as she handed the buckets to the boys. Mirio gave a loud gasp while Tamaki matched it with wide eyes. Every candy that a sweet tooth desired found its way in the bucket and Tamaki couldn’t help but feel his mouth watering with anticipation to eating one of the candies in there.

Yet, before he could quickly pop one in his house, he grew distracted at the posture Mirio was doing. In his hand, Mirio held up a piece of chocolate with a grin slapped on his face. “Let’s do a toast to the night we already had so far and for the night to come!” And he brought the chocolate closer to Tamaki, hoping for a little bop back. It took a bit for Tamaki to get and Mirio had to give a small hint but he managed to scavenege a similar piece of chocolate and gave it a small boop into the one Mirio had in his hand while giving a small cheers in return. In unison, the boys ripped through the wrapper and chucked the chocolate in, savoring the sweet and melting flavor against their small tongues.

Silence passed between them when they tasted the goods but their swallows aligned at the right second and Mirio hooked his arm within Tamaki’s. “Alright, let’s get our stuff and do more stuff! There’s a lot to do and I’m sure we can get more candy!” He told Tamaki excitedly, making him walk toward the cabinets.

Tamaki didn’t say a word while Mirio went on and on about the different activities that were still left to do. However, it wasn’t exactly a terrified silence. Rather, and to his shock, Tamaki ended up smiling and nodding towards Mirio’s words, almost as if he was excited for the rest of the night. As if….this was going to end up being one of the best days within Tamaki’s life so far.

[kosmicdream]

Chasing the Dream

I’ve been working on FFAK for almost four years now. Its the longest project I’ve ever committed myself to by far, and every part of this journey is really a “first time” kind of experience for me. One thing that I often think about while learning about the creative process of making a long-format comic is that.. I wonder how much of this is normal?

Working on my comic every day, obviously, you go through ups and downs. Just like how life is. Its not really always an exciting thing, my comic is often kind of just part of my day as naturally as eating a meal. When you do something like that, its easy to look at your project differently. Its not a exciting, spontaneous thing its a loyal, loving dedication, but how do you keep that spark that first ignited the flame of creativity in the first place? how do you manage this.. relationship? I so crave to hear from other artists about what they do about it. especially from comic artists that i admire and look up to, just to get some sort of frame of reference of what i should be expecting from this, all the while knowing my personal journey is mine alone and could never be replicated again.

One thing that is difficult to get accustomed to is that, people will (hopefully) have opinions about your comic. Its the ideal thing is to have people talking about it. But that stuff can really get in your head too. Not in a positive way. Learning about those boundaries is an essential aspect of the creative process. I wish i could give proper tips with this, but its something I struggle with too much to feel like I can really confidently advise on. Its also not really the focus of what I want to write about currently.

I feel somewhat lost with my life a lot of the times, with goals and directions. Since putting ffak down all around me, like building a bridge to an unknown future- I suddenly feel like I have somewhat of a stable home to return to that i want to uphold and see to the end. A frame of reference for myself in what i want to be part of my identity and be known for. But that in itself, is intimidating. I don’t know how to protect it properly to let it grow, I have to catch myself for when I face an unexpected challenge and i dont know what I’m building towards most of the time. I have a lot of dreams of what that might be, but I don’t know if im ever going to reach it with this bridge.

When it comes to thinking about my far off, no holding back dreams are, it really doesn’t feel like I’ll ever get there-- but I also never thought I would be where I am standing now, and I am still walking and building towards.. something. The motivation to keep forward even if I don’t know where i will go, while imagining that far off dream and if I’ll be lucky to obtain parts of it is something that keeps working for me. But really, its almost just putting faith and truth in my fantasy dream. I just have always wanted it so bad and hungered for it. Even in the title of FEAST for a king i feel that it reflects that passion inside me and how its haunted me, inspired me and frustrated me. The comic is such a reflection of my own inner demons, spilling out in a tangled imperfect mess without the cosmetic editing to make it more palatable to read. (I know its a mess, trust me. I’ve just learned to accept that as part of its unique charm. Much like accepting my own mess of a self as part of my unique charm.)

When working on this bridge, I think a lot of my efforts are really the desperate effort to find somewhere I belong. I imagine this familiar hand to someone I dont know, stretching out from that void beyond my bridge and saying “There you are, welcome home” and i’m so eager to take that hand when I know I’ve seen it. I just feel that if I keep working that opportunity will make itself present to me and my anxiety of where I need to be will go away or at least diminish. I’m not sure what that hand really belongs to. Fame? Success and recognition? Companionship? Security? A Family? Is it my own damn hand?! Who am I really chasing after that I feel I don’t have already? I just question it a lot while still going forward, because its better to keep moving now that I’ve got a start on things. I’ve been stuck in one place for so many years and decades, In a lot of ways I am still stuck but this comic has helped me become unstuck.. or at least aware of how much i hold myself back from experiencing life for myself, or carving my own path in the world where I don’t have to feel like I need to be entertaining (or fitting a certain criteria) enough to be allowed there.

I really don’t know what its like to work on a long term project where you are working with publishers, editors, ppl who will help market you -- the support I get is from really 100% my readers and friends. That belief and excitement they give me is enough to feel like im doing SOMETHING. Maybe not something perfect, but it is something that is happening as apposed to not doing it.

Actually, to come back to how its important to have boundaries with what people say about your art-- i talk about this a lot because I am pretty defensive over my choices. When I feel like someone doesn’t “get” what i do, I would get very frustrated. But it was also really fun to feel that way, I enjoyed getting all wound up over my own story and how people were interpreting it. It helped me reflect and figure out myself and as time went on, comments don’t bother me the same as they did anymore. Generally though, people are pretty nice to me. Either that or they just don’t bother reading my comic at all because it has too many weird sex things in it and is too long and confusing. That is cool too.

When people say something about my work where that, my comic is “OK” but not “great” -- or something along the lines of mediocrity-- that’s where it really hurts a lot i think. There’s no contesting that, its just how they feel. Intstead of that image of a hand reaching out, you know that hand is not going to be there. Its different from a hand slapping you across the face because they get angry about it. Of course, aggressive violent flappyflap hands are not fun to deal with too, but for some reason there’s still the presence of them BEING there. Even if they’re enraged, its like, they are enraged enough to stick around and try to tell you off. But when someone’s read your work and just felt Meh, there’s a certain kind of rejection that is hard to accept. It really challenges the artistic pride. And its sooo easy to take that as some sort of universal acceptance of your work, because its like-- am I though? Is my bridge just going to be this average, mediocre one? Is that even a bad thing? Shouldn’t I be content with that? But then the faded idea of your dream and your true, secret selfish goals kind of come back to focus. Your hunger returns and you don’t feel satisfied with that answer.

When I keep working, i just try to imagine that I’m not just an artist, I’m the greatest artist ever. That might not even make sense, that statement, but when I feel hung up or defeated and not good enough, I just know that I cannot stop here because.. what would the best artist ever do? they would figure out a way to get over it and keep going forward. There is no obstacle to that person. Even if I am not that person, pretending I am is enough to get me a little closer to where I want to be than I was before. And so i find myself sort of chasing after that imagined version of myself. And in three going on four years, I can at least confidently say I have made that gap between me and that other self..just a little closer.

Anyway, thank you for reading this or my comic!

-Kosmic

[toon-artist403]

[title: FNAF AU Headcanon Design of Springtrap (disgused)]   A.N: here comes the springy boi! i Tried Drawing this design in the same style i used for my persona's 2018 design and i have to say im impressed with how well i improved with my own style. i spent an lot of time working on this drawing but it was worth it. By the way my headcanon of springtrap was inspired by Negaduck9's springtrap in springaling and GraWolfQuinn's springtrap nicknamed pancake satan along with lilttemiss's springtrap and also the springtrap from the fnaf fangame called super fnaf anywho i hope you all like this drawing! i may draw more of this design of my headcanon of springy boi but for now just look at this instead XD but there was one springtrap i forgot to mention the best one of all time the springtrap from five nights at fuckboy's XD ((HE HAS DAT BRITIST ACCENT M8)) also yayyy i found a way to use zalgo google text generator finally ---------------- "there is only one thing left for me to do now.... i'm going to come find you.... . . i̷͓̘̥̥̖̔̂̔́͑̃͞͡'̥͎̠̲̇͐͂̿̌̂̋̚͢͞m̴̢̥̲̼̤̰̺͈͇̊͒͑̔̆͝͡ ġ̢̛̬̜̟͎̪̤̤̫͙̈́̏͡o̲̘̖̖̠͕̊̽͆̐̾́̍į̴̼̪̟͎̏̍͂̍̂̎̀̓̚͞n̡̛͚̰̻̐͂̋̀͐̕͡ͅg̸̲̣̻̜̠͈̰͙̃̐̑͒͊̂͗̆̊ t̛͈̩̹̞̲̭͎̍͂̓̂͘͢o̸̟̱͕͇͐̔̀͂̅͟͟ ĉ̴͎̞̰̝̈́̔̊̓͆̔͟͢ǫ̵̢̛͍̮͈̦̬͉̠̏̓̉̅͢m̴̛͇̳̭͇̟͔̗̼̀̿̐̽͒͆̍̚͢͟ẻ̡̛̳̫̥̐͌̎͟ f̶͚̯͙̮͙͉̏̅̽̓̕̚͡ī̷̗̦̗͈̘̀̒͛̿̈̕͢͠͠ņ̗̘̼̮͓̒̏̓̈́̋͒͜d̸̡̢̨͖̖̥͉̦̝̀́̌̇̓̐̇̕͢͠ y̡̜̱̤̪̠͔̪͆̀͂̀͂̓̓͘͟o̵̧͍͖̮̝̗̺͐̇͋̅̐̀̃͋͘u̸̧̪̮̻̫̩̭̍͊͋̎̒̋̄ͅ" . ." Real Name: Michael Afton Known Age When He 'died' in the springbonnie suit: somewhere stuck in his early 30s or mid 20s due to his age stopping when ennard was inside of him height: 7'11 ((but it does kinda look like he's 9'0 feet tall with the ears)) Appearance: he wears an purple hoodie he gotten before from his father when he was still an teenager suprisally it still fits him, he also wore an mouth guard and sunglasses and anything else that would make him blend him more into crowds. though it kinda gives him away to the lack of full gloves and shoes even though he found shoes his size later on. he has scars and dents around the suit and some cracks in it due to the amount of fights he's been in. personality/behavior: he is serious, angered, intelligence, always tired, depressed, very focused and calm most of the time. But for when shadow bonnie is in control he is cheerful, bored, curious, humorus but for when he turns into sprennard he's sadistic, mad, angry, joyful, secretly sad, and overprotective facts: he and shadow bonnie share the suit he and the shadow are bound together in the suit due to shadow bonnie being the only thing remaining of the spring bonnie suit's personality and behavior, his eyes changes color depending on what he is feeling, he also can transform into ennardtrap which is basically an fusion of springtrap and ennard named sprennard i.redd.it/99l2jgqosimz.png but he can only turn into it whenever he's taken extreme amounts of damage or cannot control his emotions he gained that transformation when he protected his sister/baby from the fire in fazbear's fright all while using up nearly all his and shadow bonnie's powers. and also he accidently killed the kid who possesses the marionette i will explain why later. also his hood goes over his head really well but don't ask him how come his ears don't get in the way he doesn't like to talk about it. one of the dents in his mask was caused by ennard. he lets shadow bonnie take control sometimes in the suit to get an little rest so whenever you see him with purple bluish reddish green like eyes that's shadow bonnie aka springbonnie! he's also an very good cook since his mother used to give him cooking lessions with him and his brother and sister. he also repairs himself whenever he gets damaged really badly after his sprennard form goes away one time he used the spring bonnie model the one on the stage seen on the fnaf four minigame. he also drains the animatronics's battery and power in order to stay active and awake since he uses up way too much of his own engery. powers/abilities: due to him and shadow bonnie Now being bound to one another he has access to an whole asortment of powers that he'd obtained. he can basically create and shoot beams of lighting or electricly, etc he uses this to attack and to stun or seal away his enemey's engery or if it's an aminatronic it will cause very extreme amounts of pain to the target. ((basically image mewtwo, darkrai, and zororark powers into springtrap but without the shapeshifting into other people or creatures or being able to fly even though shadow bonnie can fly around and float since he's an ghost)) weapons of choice: besides his powers he can use his fire axe, an pocket knife he had when he was an teen, and a combat shotgun [like the one in the game gta san andreas that big smoke uses i think it's called the miltary shotgun im not sure but correct me if im wrong] weakness/dislikes: he suffers from being haunted by his past mistakes from helping his father and he blames himself for his brother's death. he gets angered easily as shown when he was tricked by the kids when he woke up in fazbear's fright he saw they were taunting him calling him a failure he tried telling them he wasn't his father he only came to destroy his father's creations but they did'int listen instead having enough with the threats and taunting and with one insult he snapped and killed them all or so he thought when he snapped back into reality when he realized he'd killed the workers who turned him back on he saw one was still alive he became an monster he did the only thing he though was right he said sorry to the worker and putted him out of his misery. friends: The marionette [he forgave springtrap and he also was saved by him when the nightmares attacked the fright (takes place during my series three dectectives)], shadow bonnie, plushtrap (he broke him out of the nightmare marionette and nightmare's control when he returned to the abandonded cirus baby serivce enterainment to locate his father) Fredbear/Michael's little Brother, and his sister/cirus baby enemies: the nightmares/twisted animatronics, nightmare, nightmarionne, Ennard, And His Father William Afton information he knows about the spring bonnie suit: he knows that there are mutiple spiringlock suits of the springbonnie model. some are from the old locaton and some are from the sister location like the one we hid in one of the nights in the game. ((he knows an whole lot about it seeing that he wore one before in fredbear's diner)) voice box accent: the same voice from the sl custom night springtrap custsence but with the fnaf 3 springtrap voice saying help me voice sounds into it too just for the heck of it. and also dark box's accent of springtrap cause i like how interesting that voice of springtrap sounds. current location and wherabouts: unknown at the moment ----- taken from my main blog @owen-cerulean-the-tired-artist

[ceescedasticity]

0k: Progress Rayport

Follows Heroi%

Follows Heroi%

Progress Rayport

cuttlefishCuller left a file in the dropbox

CC: Anemoneone want to check in with their holiday activity prep progress? CC: The concert is ready to go. CC: ...At least as far as the lineup goes. If they don't prep enough that's not my problem. CC: We are having some technical difficulties setting up post-concert ghost karaoke, but I think we will get it done in time. CC: Although I think to transfer the song data we might have to put it on another killable biowire mini-computer? CC: So we may need help from TA and Cephal Mycota. CC: Doable?

twinArmageddons left a file in the dropbox

TA: on my end TA: iill a2k mycota iif 2he ha2 free tiime TA: a2 far a2 progre22 report2 go TA: iim almo2t fiinii2hed codiing TA: may need two adju2t the diifiiculty 2tiill, 2ome people have never played before?? TA: remaiin2 two be 2een wholl play TA: anana2, domii, mariine iif he can manage iit TA: domii ii2 tryiing very hard two talk ruthle22 regulatiion iinto iit TA: gatheriing 2warm ii2 uncommuniicatiive TA: biig 2urprii2e there

terminallyCapricious left a file in the dropbox

TC: mE AnD At sUbMiTtEd oUr sLaM PoEtRy! TC: :o) TC: iT HaSnT BeEn jUdGeD YeT BuT ItS ReAlLy gOoD TC: :o)

apocalypseArisen left a file in the dropbox

AA: still trying t0 ease 0d0dby int0 things AA: s0 he d0esnt have a c0mplete breakd0wn during the gh0st filled events AA: TC, c0uld i get y0u t0 try playing guitar at him? AA: s0mething s00thing?

terminallyCapricious left a file in the dropbox

TC: jUsT SaY WhEn aNd wHeRe TC: :o)

arsenicCatnip left a file in the dropbox

AC: :33 < ca is working on his tribute artwork AC: :|| < the paint supplies he ordered cost more than i used to spend on paint in a SWEEP AC: :33 < though i guess furry high quality supplies are best to give the very serious avant garde artist impurression

terminallyCapricious left a file in the dropbox

TC: sO Is hE JuSt TC: lIkE TC: Uh

arsenicCatnip left a file in the dropbox

AC: :|| < *the huntress reminds everyone that she is not purrivy to the details of ca's creative purrocess* AC: :|| < *and will be STAYING THAT WAY*

twinArmageddons left a file in the dropbox

TA: ii gue22 ii could a2k mariine for the 2urveiillance record2 TA: ... TA: ii thiink iill hold off untiil after the talent 2how TA: he2 probably 2ufferiing enough riight now

arachnidsGrip left a file in the dropbox

AG: I can't w8 to see it! AG: ::::) AG: This isn't holiday planning exactly 8ut I have successfully alarmed Shredear and Sharpwit WITHOUT them 8reaking anything. AG: Not Scanfire though. AG: Scanfire is reeeeeeeeally high for some reason.

terminallyCapricious left a file in the dropbox

TC: cAnT WaIt tO SeE ThE ArT Or tHe sUrVeIlLaNcE?

arachnidsGrip left a file in the dropbox

AG: 8oth!

carcinoGeneticist left a file in the dropbox

CG: CC LEFT OUT HALF THE PLANNED ACTIVITIES. CG: POSSIBLY BECAUSE *SHE* ISN'T BEING FORCED TO HELP JUDGE THE TRIVIA CONTEST. CG: I KEEP RUNNING INTO GHOSTS PRACTICING THEIR COMMODORE KILLJOY IMITATIONS FOR THE IMPERSONATION CONTEST. IT'S DISTURBING. CG: AND AG, WEREN'T YOU SUPPOSED TO BE PLANNING CAVERNS-THEMED GARPING?

arachnidsGrip left a file in the dropbox

AG: ... AG: Oh right that. AG: 8ut we have a million other activities planned!

carcinoGeneticist left a file in the dropbox

CG: YOU CAN'T JUST DROP ALL YOUR COMMITMENTS JUST BECAUSE YOU HAVE ANOTHER CHANCE TO HAUNT THE PEOPLE WHO KILLED YOU! CG: MOST OF US HAVEN'T HAD A CHANCE TO HAUNT OUR KILLERS EVEN ONCE. CG: ... CG: US IN THE DROPBOX US, I MEAN. ALL THE OVERBEAR VICTIMS DID. CG: ANYWAY YOU CAN HAUNT THEM LATER.

arsenicCatnip left a file in the dropbox

AC: :33 < ... AC: :33 < er

twinArmageddons left a file in the dropbox

TA: iit2 fiine, iim a liittle weiirded out two

carcinoGeneticist left a file in the dropbox

CG: THE *DEAD* US IN THE DROPBOX, YOU *KNOW* WHAT I *MEANT*.

arachnidsGrip left a file in the dropbox

AG: Fiiiiiiiine. AG: ::::P AG: How are the killer ro8ots coming along? AG: Did they fix up the workshop yet? AG: W8, is CT even here?

twinArmageddons left a file in the dropbox

TA: ye2

centaursTesticle left a file in the dropbox

CT: D --> They are not killer robots CT: D --> ... CT: D --> They are not intended to be killer robots CT: D --> The robot Mother Grub is complete and in testing CT: D --> I am assisting with the other robots CT: D --> The workshop is mostly repaired CT: D --> ... CT: D --> I have been informed that this is because the people in charge of prioritizing repair work have a STRONG desire to see the robot fight

adiosToreador left a file in the dropbox

AT: iS EVERYONE EVEN, OUT OF THE MEDICULLING BAY?

centaursTesticle left a file in the dropbox

CT: D --> Yes CT: D --> Although the medicullers were not 100% in support of all the departures CT: D --> It seems manageable to me

adiosToreador left a file in the dropbox

AT: i GUESS, AS LONG AS EVERYONE IS OKAY, AT: aS FOR ME, AT: i HAVE A CHANCE TO MAKE SOME EXTRA CAEGARS, AT: bUT i'M NOT SURE, i SHOULD TAKE IT,

apocalypseArisen left a file in the dropbox

AA: whats up?

adiosToreador left a file in the dropbox

AT: a BLUEBLOOD WITH A GIANT ANTEATER LUSUS, AT: wANTS ME TO TRY TO MAKE SURE IT DOESN'T TRY TO EAT ANY IMAGES OF THE mOTHER gRUB, AT: dURING THE FESTIVITIES, AT: aPPARENTLY, IT HAS A HISTORY, AT: aND THEY THOUGHT IT WAS FUNNY BEFORE, BUT UNDER PRESENT CIRCUMSTANCES, AT: iT WOULD BE VERY EMBARRASSING, AT: tHE ONLY PROBLEM IS i'M NOT SURE IF i CAN DO IT, AT: wITHOUT FOLLOWING THE ANTEATER AROUND, THE WHOLE TIME, AT: wHICH WOULD BE, ANNOYING,

twinArmageddons left a file in the dropbox

TA: have they con2iidered TA: ii dont know TA: not lettiing theiir lu2u2 iinto place2 iitll do 2omethiing embarra22iing? TA: leave iit iin theiir block? or the lu2u2block? TA: unle22 iit2 liike, GIIANT giiant and they u2ually let iit run around eatiing people or whatever TA: iit 2eem2 liike that2 the obviiou2 thiing two do

adiosToreador left a file in the dropbox

AT: i GUESS, THEY DON'T WANT TO? AT: i'M NOT SURE,

gallowsCalibrator left a file in the dropbox

GC: 1S TH1S D3DUCTOR? GC: H3 L1K3S TO T4K3 H1S LUSUS 3V3RYWH3R3. GC: 1 TH1NK JUST TO ST4ND OUT MOR3? GC: TH3 MOST TH34TR1C4L 4CCOUNT4NT 1V3 3V3R H34RD OF.

carcinoGeneticist left a file in the dropbox

CG: ... CG: WHAT.

gallowsCalibrator left a file in the dropbox

GC: R34LLY H3S L1K3 4 SP3C14L CR1M3 4CCOUNT4NT. GC: 1 DONT KNOW H1M R34LLY W3LL BUT 1 DONT TH1NK H3D T4K3 1T TOO B4DLY 1F YOU S41D NO. GC: JUST PHR4S3 1T 4S H1S LUSUS B31NG TOO P3RS1ST3NT TO B3 PUT OFF SO 34S1LY.

adiosToreador left a file in the dropbox

AT: oKAY, AT: tHANKS, AT: hOW ARE THINGS, ON THE gATHERING sWARM?

gallowsCalibrator left a file in the dropbox

GC: Y34H 4BOUT TH4T. GC: W3 S33M TO H4V3 D1SCOV3R3D 4 BL4CK M4RK3T OP3R4T1ON 4BDUCT1NG P3RSONN3L 4ND S3LL1NG TH3M OUT OF TH3 SQU4DRON 4S CH4TT3L.

adiosToreador left a file in the dropbox

AT: wHAT?

carcinoGeneticist left a file in the dropbox

CG: YOU'VE GOT TO BE FUCKING KIDDING. CG: I SWEAR. IT'S ALWAYS SOMETHING. CG: ARE YOU AT LEAST SAFE?

arsenicCatnip left a file in the dropbox

AC: :OO < :OO

gallowsCalibrator left a file in the dropbox

GC: F1N3, F1N3! GC: W3 4PPR3H3ND3D TWO P3RP3TR4TORS/W1TN3SSES 4ND 4R3 BR1NG1NG TH3M B4CK FOR 1NQU1S1TORM3NT. GC: 4LMOST B4CK TO TH3 RUTHL3SS R3GUL4T1ON. GC: W3LL H4ND FURTH3R 1NV3ST1G4T1ON OFF TO SOM3ON3 MOR3 S3NIOR GC: 4ND L4RG3R 4ND B3TT3R 4RM3D GC: W3 H4D 4 CL34R ROUT3 TO TH3 SHUTTL3 BUT 4T ON3 PO1NT 1 THOUGHT W3 WOULD H4V3 TO DROP TH3 PR1SON3RS TO G3T TH3R3 F4ST 3NOUGH.

arachnidsGrip left a file in the dropbox

AG: ...

caligulasAquarium left a file in the dropbox

CA: wwhy do I ALWWAYS get here right wwhen something major is going dowwn?

gallowsCalibrator left a file in the dropbox

GC: NOTH1NG M4JOR 1S GO1NG DOWN! GC: 1TS DON3 4ND 1T W4SNT TH4T B1G 4 D34L. GC: TH3Y WOULDNT H4V3 DON3 4NYTH1NG P3RM4N3NT TO US. GC: TH4T WOULD H4V3 4TTR4CT3D W4Y TOO MUCH 4TT3NT1ON. GC: NO ON3 N33DS TO FR34K 4BOUT TH1S.

arachnidsGrip left a file in the dropbox

AG: I'm going to kill them.

gallowsCalibrator left a file in the dropbox

GC: WH4T D1D 1 JUST S4Y?

apocalypseArisen left a file in the dropbox

AA: there will be n0 unscheduled gh0st murder AA: 0r gh0st vigilantism AA: but if the alternative is sitting ar0und hq seething and scaring 0d0dby y0u might as well g0 check it 0ut

gallowsCalibrator left a file in the dropbox

GC: NO! GC: NOBODY TR4SH 4NYTH1NG UNT1L 4LL TH3 3V1D3NC3 H4S B33N COLL3CT3D!

twinArmageddons left a file in the dropbox

TA: excu2e me TA: ii need two go hack a crappy aii an2weriing 2y2tem

twinArmageddons left a file in the dropbox

TA: (and ye2 ii know he miight not know anythiing but wiith how communiicatiive he ii2nt hackiing ii2 the only way two fiind out what he DOE2 know)

caligulasAquarium left a file in the dropbox

CA: I'm so confused CA: should I wwait to showw evveryone my first painting? CA: the picture didn't turn out vvery wwell but you get the general idea

cuttlefishCuller left a file in the dropbox

CC: I think you might as well share it now. CC: I don't think anyfin is actually happening right now?

gallowsCalibrator left a file in the dropbox

GC: 3X4CTLY!

caligulasAquarium left file IMAGE in the dropbox

caligulasAquarium left a file in the dropbox

CA: I just wwanted to start wwith a feww colors CA: I kept rotating the canvvas wwhile it wwas drying so it didn't drip in just one direction CA: actually nevver mind im going to go hide in my recuperacoon for the rest of forevver

carcinoGeneticist left a file in the dropbox

CG: THAT'S CG: ACTUALLY NOT TERRIBLE.

carcinoGeneticist left a file in the dropbox

CG: BUT DON'T THINK I'M LETTING YOU OFF THE HOOK, GC.

gallowsCalibrator left a file in the dropbox

GC: *3V3RYTH1NG 1S F1N3!!!*

[a-tiny-moon]

Ask Game Mission

hhhhhhhhh the fourth mission already got posted and im only doing the third one whyamilikethis

1. Which 3 members of Ateez would you get on well with the most, and why?

I feel like I’d get on well with Mingi and Wooyoung, cause they’re loud and outgoing and I tend to feel at ease with people like that, but I also feel like me and Yeosang would have some kind of mutual understanding...? I’m not sure how to describe it, but we’d probably be silently roasting the others together while standing in a corner with our arms crossed, chin between thumb and index finger and nodding our heads in sync askdfjla yes i have a very detailed image of this in my head, why?

2. If you were to take your bias(es) somewhere in your hometown/ the place you live where would you go?

My hometown is super small, I wouldn’t even dare to call it a town tbh lol... tbh really the only exciting (?) place one can take someone to in my hometown is the apparently haunted house pretty much in the middle of it which reminds me I don’t even know if Yeosang is scared of that stuff or not but I mean... I am, so either way I can cling to him the whole time while we’re there kajfkla

3. What genre of movie would you watch with each member?

horror with everyone so i can see who’s scared and who can deal with it xD

4. Which Ateez member do you personally relate to?

not really anyone tbh...? At least not on a level where it has any significance in my life... I don’t really know them deeply enough to have that kind of connection with one of them or to see myself in them (disappointing answer, I know, but tbh I have that with almost no idol so it’s all good)

5. What is your favorite live stage from Ateez?

the Light performance they did when I saw them live - each of them just looked so ethereal and it was beautiful hhhh;;;; (Light is my favourite Ateez song, that’s also part of the reason)

6. Do you have any similarities you share with any member?

I just reread my unhelpful guide I did for them and was reminded that Yeosang like grapes... does that count?

Also San’s love for plushies~

7. Which member would you switch bodies for a day?

Jongho. I want to know what it feels like to have that much power over fruit.

8. Which member makes you laugh the most?

I mostly just facepalm when watching them sakfjskl but Mingi’s probably a strong contender for that position

9. Which member would you trust to dye your hair?

m-maybe Seonghwa... maybe...

11. What fruit do you associate the members with?

Hongjoong: apples...?

Seonghwa: wym steak isn’t a fruit

Yunho: ...apples again aklfjldsak OR A PINEAPPLE

Yeosang: Grapes of course

San: chilis aren’t fruit unfortunately

Mingi: Lychees

Wooyoung: Cherries...? Don’t ask why.. or plums...

Jongho: Apples of course... Watermelons as well after watching their ep on Weekly Idol... but oranges too... actually I just associate him with fruit overall.

13. Is there a (not ateez) song that makes you think of a member?

hhhh not really...?

14. Is there a hairstyle you really want to see on your bias?

White hair, undercut. Yes I like death.

15. Which member would you choose to accompany you on a long car ride?

Yeosang or Jongho cause they seem like they’d be silent aksjdflaks

16. What food would you love to cook for a member?

I want my dad to teach me how he makes his super delicious steak and then I wanna cook that for Seonghwa (but of course I’m willing to make some for everyone)

17. Which member would you choose to put an outfit together for you?

Hongjoong. Because I feel like we have a 50/50 chance he fucks it up, and I want to see just how badly he can fuck it up.

18. Rank your bias’ looks throughout all Ateez eras.

KQ < Say my Name < Pirate King < Wave (says me, the pink hair enthusiast, but the wavy hair with the blonde tips is just skjflksjflak it fits him too well ok)

19. Who do you think has the best eyebrows in Ateez?

Seonghwa.

20. What job do you think would suit each member if they weren’t idols?

what jobs are there except for starving artist and unhappy office-worker...?

Hongjoong: producer (which he kinda is anyway)

Seonghwa: a chef...?

Yunho: maths teacher. Don’t ask why, it just came to mind.

Yeosang: the starving exchange-student worker at Sanrio who barely gets paid anything and has to do everything he doesn’t want to for his older coworkers in hopes of getting to design their next big character someday

San: honestly idk what industry he could possibly survive in if it’s not entertainment kasjflkas so let’s say comedian...? TV host? News reporter? smth like that

Mingi: what do you call the people that help set up booths/stages/etc. for events? That one. Defo something where he can use that excessive energy he has lol

Wooyoung: an office worker... I know it’s kinda boring but just imagine him in a navy-colored suit wearing glasses

Jongho: bodybuilder policeman or a bodyguard or a bouncer or smth ig kjflkas or a scientist....

[amazingviralinfo]

Wests life and music have combined into an ongoing piece of performance art one that appears unsustainable at this pitch

In an era when the likes of Beyoncé can release perfectly formed records without warning, the saga of Kanye Wests seventh album has been comically messy. He first announced it a year ago, under the name So Help Me God, but postponed its release by several months while renaming it Swish, Waves and, finally, The Life of Pablo.

In the weeks prior to its grandiloquent live-streamed launch at Madison Square Garden on Thursday an album playback featuring celebrity guests and an army of black models debuting Wests latest Yeezy fashion line he posted a series of perplexingly self-destructive tweets on topics including his ex-girlfriend Amber Rose and Bill Cosby. Even for a man who clearly subscribes to Oscar Wildes dictum, There is only thing in the world worse than being talked about, and that is not being talked about, it was a bizarre display.

West, 38, is arguably the most important pop artist of his era and certainly the most compelling, for good or ill. He speaks, and indeed acts, in superlatives. In recent years he has described himself, not always entirely seriously, as the greatest living rock star on the planet, the new Steve Jobs, a potential US president and, simply, the nucleus. Inevitably, he inspires extreme reactions.

When he was booked for last years Glastonbury festival, more than 130,000 people signed a petition calling for an insult to music fans all over the world to be dropped. The vehemence of such attacks on an apologetically outspoken black man doubtless had a racist dimension but that alone does not explain why the rapper is such a uniquely polarising figure.

West was brought up to achieve great things. Born in Atlanta, Georgia, but raised in Chicago by his mother, Donda, an academic, he was given the name Kanye meaning only one Omari wise man and she taught him above all to love himself. In her memoir Raising Kanye, Donda wrote that West inherited from his father Ray, a former member of the Black Panther party, little patience for what he thinks is unjust. Wests kindergarten teacher said to Donda: Kanye certainly doesnt have any problem with self-esteem, does he?

That dude was focused since he was a shorty because he knew what he wanted to do and he had a mother who supported the shit out of him, his friend and fellow rapper GLC once told Complex magazine.

Kanye West in 2004. Photograph: Frank Micelotta/Getty Images

After enrolling at art college in 1997, West dropped out to pursue production work for the likes of Jay Z, with a signature sound based on accelerated soul samples, and then fought doggedly to be taken seriously as a rapper.

I realised that he was going to make it happen and he didnt mind being an asshole, Damon Dash, Jay Zs partner in Roc-A-Fella Records, told Complex. If you dont mind being an asshole, youre not going to lose. He wasnt scared, he had gall. A decade later, West told the New York Times: I knew I was going to make it this far; I knew that this was going to happen.

In October 2002, West was involved in a car crash that shattered his jaw and changed his life. He was convinced that God had saved his life and that he needed to write more profound lyrics. He described this epiphany in his 2003 single Through the Wire: a superheros origin story in which he emerges from a life-threatening accident stronger than ever. I knew I was dealing with a different human being after the accident, his managerGee Roberson told Complex. From that day forth, it was game on.

Unlike his mentor Jay Z, the middle-class West couldnt draw on a violent, hardscrabble youth for credibility so he had to create his own drama, trumpeting his talent and ambition to a degree that was unusual even by hip-hops self-aggrandising standards.

Im the closest that hip-hop is getting to God, he told journalists at an album playback in 2005. Talking to the Guardian afterwards, he described his florid braggadocio as both a form of self-motivation and a theatrical performance. Its like Im walking on this tightrope. Its like, damn, what if he falls? And if I do make it, its like, damn, he made it! But either way youre saying damn. Everybody else is just walking on the ground.

West backed up his rhetoric by constantly redefining what hip-hop could be. The College Dropout (2004) bridged the gulf between mainstream rappers and socially conscious underground MCs. The lavish Late Registration (2005) was co-produced by thefilm score composer Jon Brion. The Daft Punk-sampling, Nietzsche-quoting hit Stronger, from Graduation (2007), began hip-hops lucrative liaison with EDM. Most of its current stars, including Drake and Kendrick Lamar, walked through doors that West opened.

West is a tireless enthusiast with constantly expanding tastes and an ear for whats next. He has been adept at choosing collaborators, from big names such as Rihanna and Daft Punk to up-and-comers such as Arca and Kid Cudi, and taking inspiration from fashion, cinema, architecture and visual art. He is a famous perfectionist who claimed to have mixed his single Stronger 75 times before he was satisfied.

Logic would seemingly state that an album with so many people working on it would sound disjointed, but what Kanye manages to do is get the best out of everyone working towards one sound, the producer Evian Christ told Pitchfork in 2013. You cant really overstate how difficult it is to do that.

West is also an unpredictable lyricist who is equally capable of self-aware jokes, crass, misogynist punchlines and eloquent examinations of race and class. Early in his career, he spoke out against homophobia in hip-hop and blurted out George Bush doesnt care about black people during a telethon for victims of Hurricane Katrina, although he has only sporadically engaged with politics since. He is often at his best when he is being inappropriate. (Five years later, Bush called the incident the all-time low of his presidency.)

Wests behaviour changed dramatically after Donda Wests death in November 2007, from heart disease. He rarely talks about the loss but last year told Q that he blamed himself: If I had never moved to LA shed be alive. West became a more haunted and guarded figure, returning to music with 808s & Heartbreak (2008), a brave, introspective album that featured more Auto-Tuned singing than rapping and paved the way for Drake and The Weeknd.

Kanye West takes the microphone from Taylor Swift as she accepts her award during the MTV VMAs in 2009. Photograph: Jason DeCrow/Associated Press

The loss of his mother invited sympathy but the next turning point in Wests life inspired fury and derision. In 2009, he interrupted Taylor Swifts acceptance speech at the MTV Video Music Awards, bringing to the boil a long-simmering backlash. (West ungallantly references the incident on his new song Famous.) He retreated to his bunker if Hawaii can be called a bunker and made his decadent epic My Beautiful Dark Twisted Fantasy (2010) with a legion of collaborators including Nicki Minaj, Bon Iver and Elton John. He later described it as a long backhanded apology.

In recent years, Wests ambition has become both grander and more diffuse. During interviews and concerts to promote Yeezus (2013), an audaciously abrasive electro-punk primal scream that he called a protest to music, he delivered long, furious monologues about his struggle to break into the fashion industry.

He increasingly seems more interested in clothes than in music Right now, over 70% of my focus is on apparel, he told Paper magazine and much more besides. He has compared himself to such world-changing figures as Picasso and Walt Disney, befriended the tech stargazer Elon Musk, and talked about his ambition to inspire an army of risk-taking cultural soldiers. You can see the growth from Im gonna be this great artist to I wanna do something that ignites a fire in peoples souls, he told Q.

However much credit West gets, it is never enough. In a 2013 interview he compared his critics to the eight-grade basketball coach who would not include him in the team even though he hit every shot. The next year, he made the team. West is driven by the desire to prove his doubters wrong, and fired up by his previous ability to do so.

While most high-profile artists accept that they cannot please everybody, West craves approval from establishment institutions that he appears to hate, from the Grammy awards to European fashion houses, as a point of principle. I dont care about the Grammys, he told the New York Times. I just would like for the statistics to be more accurate.

It is unclear what will happen when West can no longer hit every shot. The singles he released last year, including collaborations with Paul McCartney, were coolly received. His Glastonbury performance promised to be either a triumph or a disaster but, most reviewers agreed, fell somewhere in-between. Pitchforks Jayson Greene wrote: He is responsible for the current zeitgeist, but listening to his slightly confused new material, you get the distinct sense that hes struggling to find his current footing in it.

Reading Wests recent tweets, it is impossible to work out exactly what he is trying to achieve. He is clearly a more volatile and erratic character than he used to be. Marriage and fatherhood are often stabilising influences but marrying Kim Kardashian in 2014 has pitched West into a tabloid world with an endless appetite for gossip. It is unlikely that he could retreat from the spotlight, as he did in 2009, even if he wanted to.

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Kanye West releases album and fashion collection at Madison Square Garden

His life and music have combined into an ongoing piece of performance art which is unsustainable at this pitch. No artist can remain the nucleus of pop culture indefinitely. One day, this extraordinarily successful figure will face the new challenge of learning to cope with no longer being the man everyone is talking about.

Potted profile

Born: Kanye Omari West, on 8 June 1977 in Atlanta, Georgia

Career: Began producing music for local Chicago rappers in his teens and landed his first high-profile job in 1999. Launched his solo career with The College Dropout in 2004. Has released six platinum albums, won 21 Grammy awards, designed several clothing lines, and featured twice on the Time 100 list of the most influential people in the world. Runs the record label Good Music and the creative content company Donda.

High point: Bouncing back with his magnum opus My Beautiful Dark Twisted Fantasy in 2010 after his snafu at the Video Music Awards temporarily derailed his career: even Barack Obama called him a jackass. In December 2014, Pitchfork named it the best album of the decade so far.

Low point: The death of his mother in 2007, soon followed by his split from fiancee Alexis Phifer.

What he says: I will die for the art, for what I believe in, and the art aint always going to be polite.

What they say: Hes a brilliant madman. He cant help himself. Like, he doesnt have the same filters other people have. He has to blurt things out hes always saying inappropriate stuff. But he also has brilliant ideas, if you can get him to pay attention long enough Madonna.

[viralhottopics]

Exclusive: Bestselling author E. Lockhart to publish a new YA novel

Image: delacorte press

Bestselling author E. Lockhart has a new YA novel hitting shelves this fall.

SEE ALSO: Read an exclusive excerpt of Jeff Zentner’s upcoming ‘Goodbye Days’

Announced today, Lockhart’s Genuine Fraud will be released Sept. 5 by Delacorte Press, and imprint of Random House Children’s Books.

Edgy and inventive, Genuine Fraud is an instantly memorable story of love, betrayal and entangled relationships that are not what they seem. Lockhart introduces readers to the story of Imogen and JuleImogen, a runaway heiress, an orphan, a cook and a cheat; Jule, a fighter, a social chameleon and an athlete. This is a novel about intense friendship, a disappearance, murder, bad romance, a girl who refuses to give people what they want from her and a girl who refuses to be the person she once was. Who is genuine? And who is a fraud? You be the judge.

Lockhart is a staple in the YA world, and she’s perhaps best known for her haunting We Were Liars, a deluxe edition of which will be published this May.

MashReads spoke to Lockhart about Genuine Fraud, her career, and her advice for 2017. Then read on for an exclusive excerpt of her upcoming novel.

When did you first know you wanted to be a writer?

I read Joan Aikens The Wolves of Willoughby Chase in third or fourth grade and immediately began writing novels about Victorian orphanages, windswept landscapes and cool uniforms.

What draws you to writing YA books?

In young adulthood, people separate from the values and embraces of their families of origin and begin to define themselves as individuals. That process of separation and self-reinvention is extremely interesting to me. Genuine Fraud is very much a YA novel, even though it doesnt take place in high school.

Is your writing process different depending on the genre youre writing?

Genuine Fraud is a psychological thriller, and the only other such book I have written is We Were Liars. All my other books are comedies! The thrillers have intricate plots that require more planning.

Genuine Fraud sounds a bit like an oxymoron. Do you have a favorite oxymoron?

Film producer Samuel Goldwyn is often quoted as saying, I never liked you, and I always will. My new novel is in something of the same spirit.

Genuine Fraud is another suspense novel, like your emotional bestseller We Were Liars. Can you give a hint as to the emotions readers are likely to have?

Both books have twisty plots, but with Genuine Fraud youre unlikely to need a tissue. Rather, I recommend Rolaids and seltzeryoull want a strong stomach.

Youre known for writing incredibly strong and complex female characters, particularly Frankie Landau-Banks, who is seen by many as a feminist icon. The women in Genuine Fraud seem to be in a similar vein. Do you feel you have a responsibility as a YA writer?

Thank you. I am a feminist, most certainly, but my responsibility as a novelist is not to provide role models. My responsibility is to try to write something that feels true to me on some emotional and intellectual level. I write to make a piece of narrative art that represents the inside of my head. I hope that if I have done so well enough, people will respond to it.

As its a new year, what is your advice for your readers for 2017, both for life and for aspiring writers?

Raise your voice. Its an everyday practice. As a writer, as an activist, as a friend and colleague, student or teacherraise your voice in protest, in apology, in curiosity, in praise, in self-expression.

What were some of your favorite books of 2016?

I read a lot of travel stories and novels written in the nineteenth century. I read cookbooks and middle-grade fiction and comic essays. But Genuine Fraud is a complicated portrait of an extremely difficult person, and a twisty thriller as welland here are two 2016 books I read while I was revising it that fit that same description and are incredibly juicy: Girls on Fire by Robin Wasserman is an adult novel about young women behaving more than badly, raw and gorgeous. My Sister Rosa by Justine Larbalestier is a YA novel about a boy whose younger sister is a psychopathchilling and thought-provoking.

Image: Delacorte press

It was a bloody great hotel.

The minibar in Jules room stocked potato chips and four different chocolate bars. The bathtub had bubble jets. There was an endless supply of fat towels and liquid gardenia soap. In the lobby, an elderly gentleman played Gershwin on a grand piano at four each afternoon. You could get hot clay skin treatments, if you didnt mind strangers touching you. Jules skin smelled like chlorine all day.

The Playa Grande Resort in Baja had white curtains, white tile, white carpets, and explosions of lush white flowers. The staff members were nurselike in their white cotton garments. Jule had been alone at the hotel for nearly four weeks now. She was eighteen years old.

This morning, she was running in the Playa Grande gym. She wore custom sea-green shoes with navy laces. She ran without music. She had been doing intervals for nearly an hour when a woman stepped onto the treadmill next to her.

This woman was younger than thirty. Her black hair was in a tight ponytail, slicked with hair spray. She had big arms and a solid torso, light brown skin, and a dusting of powdery blush on her cheeks. Her shoes were down at the heels and spattered with old mud.

No one else was in the gym.

Jule slowed to a walk, figuring to leave in a minute. She liked privacy, and she was pretty much done, anyway.

You training? the woman asked. She gestured at Jules digital readout. Like, for a marathon or something? The accent was Mexican American. She was probably a New Yorker raised in a Spanish-speaking neighborhood.

I ran track in secondary school. Thats all. Jules own speech was clipped, what the British call BBC English.

The woman gave her a penetrating look. I like your accent, she said. Where you from?

London. St. Johns Wood.

New York. The woman pointed to herself.

Jule stepped off the treadmill to stretch her quads.

Im here alone, the woman confided after a moment. Got in last night. I booked this hotel at the last minute. You been here long?

Its never long enough, said Jule, at a place like this. So what do you recommend? At the Playa Grande? Jule didnt often talk to other hotel guests, but she saw no harm in answering. Go on the snorkel tour, she said. I saw a bloody huge moray eel.

No kidding. An eel?

The guide tempted it with fish guts he had in a plastic milk jug. The eel swam out from the rocks. She must have been eight feet long. Bright green.

The woman shivered. I dont like eels.

You could skip it. If you scare easy.

The woman laughed. Hows the food? I didnt eat yet.

Get the chocolate cake.

For breakfast?

Oh, yeah. Theyll bring it to you special, if you ask.

Good to know. You traveling alone?

Listen, Im gonna jet, said Jule, feeling the conversation had turned personal. Cheerio. She headed for the door.

My dads crazy sick, the woman said, talking to Jules back. Ive been looking after him for a long time. A stab of sympathy. Jule stopped and turned.

Every morning and every night after work, Im with him, the woman went on. Now hes finally stable, and I wanted to get away so badly I didnt think about the price tag. Im blowing a lot of cash here I shouldnt blow.

Whats your father got?

MS, said the woman. Multiple sclerosis? And dementia. He used to be the head of our family. Very macho. Strong in all his opinions. Now hes a twisted body in a bed. He doesnt even know where he is half the time. Hes, like, asking me if Im the waitress.

Damn.

Im scared Im gonna lose him and I hate being with him, both at the same time. And when hes dead and Im an orphan, I know Im going to be sorry I took this trip away from him, dyou know? The woman stopped running and put her feet on either side of the treadmill. She wiped her eyes with the back of her hand. Sorry. Too much information.

Sokay.

You go on. Go shower or whatever. Maybe Ill see you around later.

The woman pushed up the arms of her long-sleeved shirt and turned to the digital readout of her treadmill. A scar wound down her right forearm, jagged, like from a knife, not clean like from an operation. There was a story there.

Listen, do you like to play trivia? Jule asked, against her better judgment.

A smile. White but crooked teeth. Im excellent at trivia, actually.

They run it every other night in the lounge downstairs, said Jule. Its pretty much rubbish. You wanna go?

What kind of rubbish?

Good rubbish. Silly and loud.

Okay. Yeah, all right.

Good, said Jule. Well kill it. Youll be glad you took a vacation. Im strong on superheroes, spy movies, YouTubers, fitness, money, makeup, and Victorian writers. What about you?

Victorian writers? Like Dickens?

Yeah, whatever. Jule felt her face flush. It suddenly seemed an odd set of things to be interested in.

I love Dickens.

Get out.

I do. The woman smiled again. Im good on Dickens, cooking, current events, politics… lets see, oh, and cats.

All right, then, said Jule. It starts at eight oclock in that lounge off the main lobby. The bar with sofas.

Eight oclock. Youre on. The woman walked over and extended her hand. Whats your name again? Im Noa.

Jule shook it. I didnt tell you my name, she said. But its Imogen.

Jule West Williams was nice-enough-looking. She hardly ever got labeled ugly, nor was she commonly labeled hot. She was short, only five foot one, and carried herself with an up-tilted chin. Her hair was in a gamine cut, streaked blond in a salon and currently showing dark roots. Green eyes, white skin, light freckles. In most of her clothes, you couldnt see the strength of her frame. Jule had muscles that puffed off her bones in powerful arcslike shed been drawn by a comic book artist, especially in the legs. There was a hard panel of abdominal muscle under a layer of fat in her midsection. She liked to eat meat and salt and chocolate and grease.

Jule believed that the more you sweat in practice, the less you bleed in battle.

She believed that the best way to avoid having your heart broken was to pretend you dont have one.

She believed that the way you speak is often more important than anything you have to say.

She also believed in action movies, weight training, the power of makeup, memorization, equal rights, and the idea that YouTube videos can teach you a million things you wont learn in college.

If she trusted you, Jule would tell you she went to Stanford for a year on a track-and-field scholarship. I got recruited, she explained to people she liked. Stanford is Division One. The school gave me money for tuition, books, all that.

What happened?

Jule might shrug. I wanted to study Victorian literature and sociology, but the head coach was a perv, shed say. Touching all the girls. When he got around to me, I kicked him where it counts and told everybody who would listen. Professors, students, the Stanford Daily. I shouted it to the top of the stupid ivory tower, but you know what happens to athletes who tell tales on their coaches.

Excerpt copyright 2017 by E. Lockhart. Published by Delacorte Press, an imprint of Random House Childrens Books, a division of Penguin Random House LLC, New York.

Read more: http://on.mash.to/2jOItND

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