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crown-anon · 4 years

Note

aah i thought of a req!!!!! could i maybe request one shots or hcs (separate) w dream, sapnap, n wilbur with a s/o (preferred he/him!!) who draws a whole lot,, n one day they catch him drawing him?? tysm :]

@ghcstbnr asked

gn i just realized i made a typo i meant cc catching reader drawing them- but ty again :)

of course! it's kind of long, sorry about that

I took a little creative liberty with the notion of "catching you drawing." also Sapnap's looks kind of long but it's also dialogue heavy. if you want me to redo it, I will. hope you like it 💗

& a note to everyone else, I don't write for Wilbur yet! I only write for the dream team at this time. sorry about that! this will probably change in the future, though, so look out 👀

CW: swearing

format: one-shot

people: dreamwastaken, Sapnap

pronouns: dreamwastaken's piece is ambiguous, Sapnap's piece uses he/him

edited 27 April 2021

—

dreamwastaken

since he doesn't use his camera, you find yourself with your boyfriend in the studio more often than not. when he's gaming casually, you play together, or one of you will cheer the other one on. when he's streaming, sometimes you interact with the viewers, or read donations for him; sometimes you just sit next to him, soaking up his energy and warmth. when he's working long days and long nights to edit videos, you're content with just relaxing together in the same space. at times you have to drag him out to the kitchen to eat, or help him to bed if he passes out, but…he's really cute when he's focused. (and you're starting to think he does it on purpose just so you can dote on him.)

today is a little different. he's recording for a manhunt that's meant to drop in a couple days. you're quiet, trying to avoid disrupting them. you're perched up on the loveseat, staring fondly at him across the room. he's so animated, the way his eyes shine when he talks to his friends, how he tears up when he laughs…

Patches mews at you from the arm of the couch, as if to say, disapprovingly, I cannot believe how sickeningly sweet your inner monologue is.

and you try to understand where she's coming from, you really do, but the sun's starting to set, and the gentle rays slotting through the blinds are shifting from white to gold.

he looks so divine, you decide. it's unfair. how could I not love him? he's seriously pretty. and before you can stop yourself, you're sketching him out on your tablet. you glance up at him fast to get the details right, and look away just as quickly. he never meets your eyes. soon your whole page is covered in little Clays, capturing the way he feels, the way he acts, the way you feel about him. Patches jumps off the chair, with all the moving. and before you know it, you've drawn up a whole page of concept art of your unfairly beautiful boyfriend. Patches was right about me, you muse to yourself.

fuck. Patches. the same Patches who's been meowing at you for the better part of an hour, now sitting patiently at the door? there's no way Clay didn't pick up on all that noise, you fret. but he's still playing, looking intense as ever. relief washes over you, replacing the guilt.

come here, girl, you think to yourself, knowing Patches wouldn't have even understood you if you spoke. sorry to keep you waiting. and you rise, slipping quietly out the door with his cat in your train.

—

you're coming back to the studio. Patches, fed and sated, is napping in another room. opening the door, you have to stop yourself, you freeze. your boyfriend's kneeling on the ground, sitting on his heels, right next to the door—you'd have hit him if it opened any further.

"baby, what are you…" the words die on your tongue.

my book. my sketchbook. my sketchbook full of drawings of him. shit, he's gonna think I'm such a simp! the embarrassment, the shame, the fear, it's overwhelming you.

you hear your voice break. "…what happened to recording…?"

"finished half an hour ago," he says simply.

and that was that. for the first time in ages, the silence hanging between you was thick and heavy with tension. you wait. and wait. and wait. you wait for the criticism, the hate, the argument that never comes.

suddenly, he seems content with what he's seen, when he looks up at you adoringly, and takes one of your hands, giving it a soft squeeze. "is that…me?"

you've lost your voice, all you can do is nod.

"you…you think I'm beautiful?" he glows.

ah, I suppose I did write that, somewhere in there. you look away. all the things I've said…

he brings your hand up to his lips and leaves kisses on your knuckles.

you sound small. "do I not tell you that enough?" you pause. "that you're beautiful? that I love you?"

and just like that, his nervousness dissolves into euphoria. you both start laughing at the same time.

"oh my god—" he wheezes. "—you're so sappy."

"only for you," you blurt out, and start laughing harder. but he quiets, he hesitates.

"only for me," he repeats.

you sink down onto the floor next to him. he's staring so fondly at you, you can't help but smile back.

"only for you," you affirm.

he rests his hands on your knees, pulling himself closer to you. he's so close to you, you can feel his blush. you let your eyes close, softly.

but the kiss never comes. instead, you're met with a "then what about all those drawings of Patches?"

laying on the floor, tangled up in each other, in hysterics, you distantly think I hope he remembered to leave the call from recording earlier.

—

over dinner, you meet his gaze, and he gives you that look. that stupid, handsome look; the one with the smile and the danger behind his eyes. he makes a point of pausing mid-bite, but it takes you a minute to notice that he's stopped eating.

"what's up, honey?" you ask, sounding a little more concerned than you should have been.

he shrugs dramatically. "oh, nothing…just figured you'd appreciate a muse." there it was. the teasing. you knew it would happen eventually. but the tone, it's kind, it's tempting; gentle, unlike a serious jab.

so all you do is roll your eyes, but you can't help the way your mouth quirks into a smile. "you're so dumb," you murmur with affection, and shake your head at nothing in particular.

Patches curls her tail around your ankle as she passes you by.

—

on the couch hours later for movie night, you're the last one up. Patches is curled up in Clay's lap, purring. Clay, in turn, sleeps soundly in your lap. (you think if he could purr, he would, but he settles for humming softly when you play with his hair.) you might think it's funny looking back on it later, but it feels so tender and vulnerable now. you like calm evenings like this one. Studio Ghibli plays quietly on the flatscreen; you don't know which one, you're not really paying attention anymore.

you're busy tracing the contours of Clay's skin, feeling more than seeing his shape in the dark room. mapping him out in your mind, learning his figure like you're seeing him for the first time again. you think you understand him a little bit better, every day you spend together. and with confidence, you make your first stroke, illuminated by the moon.

—

Sapnap

you only barely stop yourself from drawing a big "X" across your paper. exhale, and start erasing furiously. don't rip the paper—well, we didn't need that sheet anyway. ball it up and throw it at the dark, cobwebbed corner of the room. along with the rest of your mistakes.

you're trying. you're really trying. but those lips. his fucking lips. fuck.

your boyfriend smiles at the camera as he gets a donation with a sweet message on it. it should be so easy. he's right there. right here.

you check the time. it's been an hour. you've been trying, and miserably failing, to get his lips right for an entire hour. today, at least. you scoff at yourself, your misery, and pinch the bridge of your nose. it isn't fair.

his camera's on, and he's live, so you know you can't be in there with him. nobody knows you're together, and you don't want know what kind of backlash to expect if people found out. so you've been avoiding his streams…the whole room where he streams, really.

you've kept yourself busy by drawing. and you've cycled through many subjects in your life, and eventually, been able to draw whatever you put your mind to with enough time and effort. the problem is, your sights have been set on Sapnap, even for months before you got together. okay, maybe that isn't the problem. the actual problem is that you fucking suck at drawing him.

you get going, start it out, do an okay job, but midway through screw it all up somehow. to make things worse, your reference is his 2D image. he doesn't…know that you draw him. you're terrified to say. so you can't use the real life Sapnap as a reference, like you would prefer.

ugh, and this one's ruined too. you rip it up and throw it at your growing pile of paper balls, but being tiny confetti-sized pieces of paper, they don't make it very far. great, something else to clean up later, you huff at your own thoughts. it isn't fair.

—

"[name]?" he calls for you. you're one step ahead, already opening the door. you can't remember when you got here and decided to brood outside his room.

"hey, do you think you can—" he tears his eyes from his camera, his waiting audience, to look up at you expectantly. when he sees you he stops immediately, looking concerned, standing to meet you.

"what is it?" your voice is flat.

out of view of the camera, he mouths, are you okay? you only shrug and avert your eyes.

he falters, contemplates, sits back down at his desk and starts to talk to his viewers. "hey guys, I'm sorry for the short notice, but I gotta cut this stream short. my…" he glances at you for approval, only to see you motioning with your hands as if to say, no, don't.

(you yourself don't really know what for. no, don't end the stream for me? no, don't out us like this?)

he looks back. "…my friend…something came up with my friend. I have to take care of it. it's really important." you can tell he has trouble finding the right words. you can tell it throws him off, he's acting out of character for his internet personality. do you blame him? isn't this your fault? "sorry again. bye guys!"

the second he made the last click, he gets up and pulls you into a hug. it's unexpected, it knocks the wind out of you. you're certain he feels the tension.

"babe…what's wrong?" it's muffled by your neck and the sweater you're wearing. you just hold him, saying nothing.

he pulls away and holds you by the shoulders. "look at me. what's wrong?"

you feel all the more embarrassed. it's so silly to be upset about. "I…I…well, it's a lot."

he shakes his head, to say I'm not going anywhere, but his expression softens, his grip loosens. "do you want to talk about it?"

you sigh. "it started as 'I can't draw for shit', then it became 'why am I afraid of asking you for help?', and finally, worst of all, 'why the fuck can't we be seen together?' it isn't fair. it's never been fair. I'm sorry."

he thinks about it for a second. "okay, what makes you feel like we can't be seen together?"

"are you joking?" you snap. "we're two fucking boyfriends. in this society." he didn't look hurt by the outburst, but the guilt crept in anyway. "…I'm sorry."

he shakes his head, "do you really think I'd let that happen? I wouldn't ever let anyone hurt you, darling. remember that."

"I know, I know…" you don't know what to say. "it's easy to forget, I guess."

"what are you afraid to ask me for help about?"

"I…" shit, you guess you have to tell him. close your eyes, breathe, "I've been drawing you. trying to draw you. but I can't, it never turns out right."

you peek, and he's red in the face, stuttering. "me? you draw me? of all the hot people out there?"

you furrow your eyebrows at him. "don't give me that shit. you know you're cute."

he shakes his head incredulously. "are we talking about the same person here?"

"dude, your smile is literally the most radiant fucking force of nature I have ever seen."

"you're hot too! why are you coming after me?"

"I'm not 'coming after you', you're being defensive about your looks, when you shouldn't be! you're gorgeous, baby."

you're both giggling like girls at a sleepover, the anger and frustration long forgotten. now it's a war of who can be more grossly in-love with the other.

"what part of me," he manages between laughs. "are you having trouble drawing?"

"oh god," you groan, remembering yourself and your dilemma. "your lips."

"my fucking lips? you would think that—"

"no," you warn. "shut up. don't say it. don't you dare say it."

he leans in close, his hands have moved up to cup your face. you shiver.

"don't worry," he grins. "I won't."

the kiss is long and sweet, nothing like the ones you've shared in the past. he takes his time, you savor each other. you feel time stop ticking, you feel your heart stop beating, you feel the way he tilts his head. you grab him by the collar of his shirt and pull him in. and when you part, you're breathing heavy, in tandem.

"thanks," you manage. "but I needed to see your lips, not kiss you into next saturday."

"nah," he laughs. "I think you needed that too."

you choose your words thoughtfully. "do you need me, too?"

he hums, and—

ding!

dreamwastaken donated $69!

you could die. you could really, seriously die.

the response is instant. you don't even see Sapnap move from you to the PC, flushed down to his neck, apologizing, apologizing, and apologizing again. "change of plans, guys, we're doing an art stream!"

the chat is filled with "huh?"s and "what?"s.

"huh? what?" you didn't have the time to process what just happened.

karljacobs: I thought we were doing a make-out-with-our-secret-boyfriends stream :(

he smiled warmly at you. "yeah. my lovely boyfriend is going to draw me! he's been wanting to for a really long time, and his art is really good. let's go get your stuff."

you're in so much shock that he makes it past you and out of the room, while you stand there waiting. after a pause much longer than you intended, you hurry after him.

—

down the hall, in your room, he's got your sketchbook tucked under his arm, closed. you're sure you left it open when you came out.

you only barely get the words out. "um, did you…go through it? please don't laugh."

your heart sinks when he laughs heartily, but he grabs your hand, resting it on your book, about to hand it off. but he holds you there for a second. "of course not. I respect your privacy." he ponders for a moment. "I respect you."

you can feel the sigh of relief when you let it out. "I…love you."

your holding your book now, as he moves to collect the boxes containing your pens and pencils and colors. he gets them all together, but before he picks them up to head back, he turns around to face you. "is this too much?"

you absently reach for a hand, tracing over the lines on his palms. and you think about it. am I okay? is this too much?

"I don't think so. not with you. I'm okay."

he moves to open the door and grab the rest of your things. "well then, let's not keep them waiting!"

—

edited 27 April 2021

#dreamwastaken x reader #dream x reader #clay x reader #sapnap x reader

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catxsnow · 4 years

Text

DRAW ME D.W.

Summary: Damian never knew his drawings could lead to something so great. Older!Damian

Warning: the cringiest reference but I couldn’t help it, fluff

A/N: I’ll say it once and I’ll say it again, Damian’s skills are not showcased enough

Gif not mine

Word Count: 2.3k

Everyone knew how amazing of an artist Damian Wayne is.

He would sketch whenever there was a pencil and paper in front of him no matter if he was supposed to be paying attention to something or not. He loved to draw, to paint, it was the easiest way for him to express himself since words and actions didn't come out as easily to him.

Damian would draw anything and everything. He drew his dog, batman, even the gargoyles that he would perch beside in the dark of night. Drawing was his escape and not to brag about it, but he was pretty damn good at it too. Bruce was always impressed by his son's skills.

He began to challenge himself more - drawing things that were more realistic. He had nearly perfect Titus and was almost there with his father. However, when it came to drawing you? Damian had dozens of sketches of you, each one not coming near to how perfect you really were.

You and Damian had been friends since he stepped foot in Gotham - at least you considered him a friend for that long. You met him at school, first day of class and bumped right into him. Damian yelled at you - calling you dumb names for being so careless. Lucky for him, you were on a good day.

Rather than some snarky response that surely would have gotten you a one way ticket to the principals office, you smiled at him. Damian was taken aback by your response, he wasn't used to this kindness. You had apologized to him, asking if you could make it up to him by buying him lunch that day.

For some godforsaken reason, he agreed.

The two of you had been best friends ever since. It had been years since that day, the two of you were older now - fresh out of high school and awaiting university that fall. You planned to spend as many hot summer days with Damian was you could. He did just the same.

Over the years that the two of you had been friends, Damian had gained these... feelings, for you. At first, he was unsure of what they meant but after a talk with his brother, Dick, he had confirmed them. Damian had a crush on you, and for the first time in his life, he was scared of something.

He didn't want to tell you that after all these years, he had fallen in love with you. There was no way that he was willing to risk your friendship, you were his closest friend besides Jon. Besides, with him being Robin, it was way to dangerous for you to be involved anymore in his life. It was easier for him without you knowing his secret.

So, he kept his feelings hidden. He hid his blush every time you would touch him or kiss his cheek. He hid his desire to hold you in his arms. He hid his endless drawings of you, each one trying to perfect the happiness that was in your eyes.

"Whatcha drawing?" It wasn't very often that someone could sneak up on Damian - rare, in fact. However, he was so engrossed on his sketchbook that he didn't even hear you walk into his room. Damian nearly jumped out of his chair at the warmth of your breath against his cheek.

You rested your chin on his shoulder and wrapped your arms around his upper body from behind. Damian wanted to lean back into your touch, he wanted to turn his head just enough that your lips would touch. Instead, he stayed still, twirling his pencil between his fingers.

"My mother," Damian responded. He had the upper half of Talia drawn and was just starting on the details of her lower body. It was excellent work so far, especially being from memory. It was rare to ever see him talk about his mother, you never really asked about her in case it was a sensitive topic.

"She's beautiful," you commented. Damian nodded his head. He set his pencil down on his desk as you pulled away from him. "I was wondering if you wanted to go to the art show with me this afternoon. They have some new pieces I've been dying to look at and you're the only one that's going to appreciate them."

"I'd love to," Damian agreed to your plans.

"Perfect, you didn't really have a choice," You grinned. "Now get dressed, it starts in less than an hour and I want to be the first ones there."

"Get dressed?" Damian raised an eyebrow. You chuckled and looked him up and down once before meeting his eyes again. He looked down at himself, just to realize that this whole time he had been in nothing but his boxers. A blush crept up his neck - he hadn't left his room all morning and had completely forgotten to put on clothes.

"I think you some how got more fit since the last time I've seen you half naked." You didn't think that it was possible for that to happen, but here you were. Damian was in impeccable shape, and you never could understand why. He never did it to impress woman and he wasn't narcissistic enough. Either way, you didn't complain about the view.

"I'll meet you down stairs," Damian avoided your compliment.

"I think I like the view too much to leave," you leaned against the doorway. Damian stood in the middle of his room, obviously feeling uncomfortable under your gazing eyes. After all this time, he still wasn't used to your flirting. You did it a lot, which had made him realize his feelings for you even more. It also made him a hell of a lot more confused about how you felt about him.

"(Y/N)."

"Okay, short-stack," you finally agreed. Upon first meeting Damian, you had been much taller than him. Now, he towered over you after a massive growth spurt. He hated the nickname even more than he did when you were in fact taller.

"I'm taller than you now!"

Damian had never felt his heart flutter more than he did at that art show.

You looked so effortlessly beautiful as you admired the paintings. The way your eyes lit up as you talked about a certain piece to him made his breath catch in his throat. He didn't even care about looking at the art, he was too distracted by you the whole time. You were the only art he ever needed to admire.

The whole time you nearly dragged Damian around by his hand. You wanted to see everything, to appreciate ever stroke of the paintbrush. It was incredible just how talented these people were. You never acknowledged art until meeting Damian, he had been the one to get you into the history of it all.

By the time that you left the show, you were nearly skipping down the street with excitement. The most beautiful smile wouldn't leave your face. Damian wanted to see you like this all the time. He wanted you to be happy and never to be tainted by the darkness that was in his life.

Damian had offered for you to join him back at his home. You agreed, of course. The number of hours in the day couldn't compare to the hours you wished to spend with him. Damian was the one person that you didn't think you could ever get tired of seeing. You just hoped that he felt the same way.

It was raining as you came back to his home. The short walk from the car to his front door had left you both soaked to the bone. You hair stuck to your skin and your clothes were nearly see through. It was pouring out, but that was nothing new for Gotham.

Damian offered you a set of his clothes, which you happily accepted. He left the room while you could change into his sweats and hoodie. They smelt like him - an intoxicating scent that always lingered on your body from being with him so much.

A cold gust from his window sent a chill down your spine. You closed his window and wrapped your arms around yourself in hopes to warm up.

The sketch book that he had been using that morning was still opened. However, instead of the drawing that he was doing of his mother, it was on a page of you. It was incredible how he had perfected this drawing of you. From every flaw on your face, to the mixed colors in your eyes. He had done an excellent job.

You carefully grabbed the book from his desk, flipping through the pages of everything that he had done in the past several weeks. Damian was never particularity excited to show you his work, but he didn't hide it from you either. As you turned the pages, you realized just how many times he had drawn you.

They were beautiful. Damian had come back into his room, assuming that you were dressed. His eyes immediately went to the book in your hand and his eyes widened. The last thing that he needed was for you to think of him as a creep for drawing you without your knowledge.

"Dames, this is incredible," you gawked at his work. "Like holy shit, this looks like you just took a picture of me, of everything in here! Why have you never showed me these before, I love them."

"You do?" Damian asked. He didn't realize how much your praise of his work would mean to him until hearing it.

"Yes!" You exclaimed. The smile that Damian loved grew and grew on your cheeks. You sat down on his bed, gesturing for him to sit next to you as you went through each page of the book. You complimented each of his drawings and expressed how good of an artist he was.

It wasn't until you reached one of the more recent drawings of yourself did you pause. You could feel Damian tense next to you as you stopped on the page. He had forgotten the drawing. It was of you - just like every other one in this book - however, around it were dozens of tiny little hearts. The corner of the page read 'my beloved' in the most beautiful calligraphy you had seen.

He had drawn it on a day that he found particularly difficult to hide his feelings for you. Drawing it out had been the only reason he hadn't blurted it out.

"I love this one," your finger tips outlined one of the larger hearts on the page. Damian let out a breath of air that he didn't realize he was holding. You looked up at him, trying to figure out what was going through his head in that moment. He was always a closed book and as much as you had gotten used to it, he still frustrated you.

"I love you," Damian blurted out. His eyes widened at his words and you could see the panic growing on his face. He didn't mean to say it out loud - it wasn't like him to just admit how he was feeling. "Fuck, I didn-"

You didn't let him finish whatever kind of bullshit excuse that he was going to come up with. No, Damian Wayne was a once in a life time kind of person and there was no way that you were going to let him talk himself out of whatever the hell was thinking. So, you did the first thing that came to mind.

You grabbed Damian by the collar of his jacket and pulled him in so you could kiss him. You kissed him with more passion than you ever had for art, with more love than you could have for yourself, and with more confidence than you had ever given off. You kissed him like you had been waiting for this moment since the first time you saw him.

It took Damian nearly too long to pull himself out of his shock and kiss you back. His hands went up to the side of your face with more tenderness than he thought he ever had. This was the kiss that he had been waiting for, for years. Just as he had imagined it, it was perfect - just like you.

"I love you, too, Damian," you confessed. It had been just under a year since you realized your feelings for him. The yearning for him never went away until the second your lips touched. "Fuck, do I love you."

"I should have shown you those drawings earlier," Damian chuckled. He brought you in for another kiss. Without pulling away, you set the book down on his desk once more so you could crawl up his bed. Damian didn't miss a beat and hovered over you. His legs trapped you below him and his arms caging you in even more.

You threaded your fingers through his hair, tugging right at the roots to elicit a quiet groan from him. Damian trailed wet kisses down your neck as his hands slid up the sides of your shirt. He pulled it over your head, and took in even more of your beauty.

"I think I've got a new drawing project for you," You offered, playing with the hem of his shirt. You had just seen him without it that morning but the small taste of it wasn't enough. You needed more, you needed him. A coy grin threatened your smile as you continued your plan for him.

"Draw me like one of your french girls."

#damian wayne #damian wayne imagine #damian wayne oneshot #damian wayne x reader #older!damian #dc imagine #dc one shot #dc #batfam imagine #batfam one shot #batfam #fluff

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wntersfire · 3 years

Text

GET TO KNOW ME TAG GAME

Before I start I would just like to say (tw alcohol for now and question 19) sorry for any spelling mistakes or if I ramble a little. To cut a long fuckin story short I mis read the measurements of my shot glasses and so instead of having two cocktails I’ve had the equivalent of four in the space of an hour and a half. Being british, im not gonna let a good drink go to waste either so im onto my third/sixth now.

Tagged by @clints-lucky-arrow (an actual goddess among us mortals)

1. Why did you choose your URL?

So this reason is two-fold. One, I didn’t watch star wars growing up because I was dumb and didn’t understand the politics (it wasn’t until my boyfriend sat me down and explained it literally in January of this year that I actually got it) but I loved Sci-fi and space so the next best thing was Treasure Planet (2003 film, Available on didney+) My favourite scene is the ending when Long John Silver (spoilers) is about leave before he can be arrested and Jim confronts him. Seeing how much his character has grown, Silver says to Jim, “Look at you, glowing like a silver fire. You’re something special, Jim. You’re gonna rattle the stars, you are.” It literally makes me tear up every single time I watch it and its one of my favourite lines of all time. Second, this was actually quoted in one of my favourite book series ‘Throne of glass’ by Sarah J Maas. I adore the character of Celeana and again one of my favourite quotes from TOG is when Queen Elena says to Celeana“ You could rattle the stars. You could do anything, if only you dared.” Every time I read that line I literally get chills and I actually have plans to get this tattooed on me lmao

2. Any side blogs?

Yes my fanfic blog @second-stars-totheright (I like puns and I used to love peter pan)

3. How long have you been on tumblr?

I joined when I was 13 for the fanfiction and lurked for a very long time, just reblogging and liking things until I deleted it when I was 17. Re downloaded the app and got my account back back around February of this year (when I was 19, now 20) and since then I’ve found it much friendlier and actually interacted with people this time around, and actually started posting my work on here!

4. Do you have a queueue tag?

No. This is my general postings blog so I just kind of stick anything funny or worth keeping here, but I probably should make one!

5. Why did you start your blog in the first place?

As I said to read fanfiction (anyone wondering it was 5 seconds of summer fanfiction. Anyone who judges me in the comments its fair game 🥺) but I re-downloaded it this year because I noticed with my work on Wattpad, while I had some do really well (one has gotten 130k+ views) its very difficult to actually interact with readers and get feedback. I’ve only accumulated that high of a number after 5 years of it being on there, and so tumblr is just so much more personal!

6. Why did you choose your icon/pfp?

I did it this morning as I was getting tagged in this lmao. I wanted a cartoon girl who looked like me but because I had a specific colouring (ie my hair is black with a blonde streak at the front & my eyes have both blue and green segments because I have heterochromia) I couldn’t find any that looked like me so I recoloured a cartoon girl I found on pinterest.

7. Why did you choose you header?

The white clouds fit the stars theme and it looks pretty with the purple. ✨💜

8. Whats your post with the most notes?

“That girl is a problem | Javier Pena x Agent!Reader part 1” with 105 notes on my fanfic blog.

9. How many mutuals do you have?

I am still a little tumblr idiot when it comes to this so if someone could tell me how to find out I'll edit this

10. How many followers do you have?

72 on here, 107 on my fanfic blog (AND I LOVE ALL OF YOU ACROSS BOTH OF THEM MWAH, MWAH KISSES FOR YOU ALL 💜💜💜)

11. How many people do you follow?

165 (it was 700+ but the other day I unfollowed a bunch of accounts that haven’t been active since I followed them when I was 13. There were LOTS)

12. Have you ever made a shit post?

I mean all you have to do is look at the Nomad memes I make (UNAPOLOGETICALLY I might add 😤) for @clints-lucky-arrow to know I absolutely have. That series has a hold over me im telling you. I black out when I start reading and I awake with a bunch of meme editing apps open and my feelings tugged at from her amazing writing.

13. How often do you use Tumblr each day?

If I’m with my boyfriend which is like two days a week, rarely, but now I’ve finished uni, I’m on here all the god damn time. I feel so comfy and safe interacting with you all, not to mention some of you guys are funny as hell.

14. Did you have a fight with a blog once?

Not really on here, I haven’t received any hate luckily but I prefer not to spoil how comfy I am here with arguing.

15. How do you feel about ‘you need to re-blog this’ posts?

I’m a little confused by this I dunno whether I’ve just never come across any like this or if Stars is being a bimbo on the tl again. However, I only reblog things I’d like to keep for future reference or if something deserves to be shared to everyone else like a fic rec or a piece of art. (As Mack said, I’ve re-blogged so many in the past promising me money or luck and I am still broke as shit so what does that tell you).

16. Do you like tag games?

Yes!! I love reading everyone elses and getting to know my mutals better!

17. Do you like ask games?

Again yesss because it means I get to send love to my mutuals and get to know them better! I tend to not participate though just read their responses because I sometimes feel like I’m bugging people clogging their inboxes even though I know that’s the point idk I’m a hell of an over thinker sometimes 🥳

18. Which of your mutuals do you think is tumblr famous?

It’s been said before but @clints-lucky-arrow (wow you rlly owning this post bby girl) but I just remember lurking on Nomad early February and liking and reblogging her chapters so I could keep them to re-read cause that’s how much I instantly loved it and when she followed me I realised who she was and lowkey had a starstruck moment bcus id been ciaght up in her work for weeks and too nervous to make contact. Also @arduadastra, I saw her work all over the pedro tags for so long and now I’ve gotten to know her she is the sweetest girl!! We usually fan over Javier Pena gifs together, she’s solely responsible for ‘That girl is a problem’ bcus of her gif sending at 1am giving me Javi thots and now it’s my most successful one on my blog. And most recently @pedrosgirlx followed me this morning and her work is genuinely some of the best I've seen on here, as I said this morning it is the Sistine Chapel ceiling of Mando art it is actually jaw dropping!! I cant believe all these creators are rlly giving us this content for free and yet being so talented AND the nicest people I’ve ever met!!

19. Do you have a crush on a mutual?

No, although I hold a lot of them dearly as friends. 15/10 would treat you lovelies to a drink of your choice if we ever met (any of you from the uk who drink I’d get you a pitcher from Whetherspoons)

20. Absolutely no pressure tags:

anyone who wants to join! a lot of people I would have tagged have already posted theirs so go for it if you like the look of it!

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girlofmanyfandoms · 4 years

Text

Kiss It Better

A/n: It’s like two or three days late (under the prompt of cuddles), but it has a decent word count so I’m not too upset with myself! It kinda accidentally turned into a hurt/comfort thing but that helped with ✨plot✨ So it’s okay! Also @titzweek here ya go-

Word count: 3000

Trigger warnings: mention of mild aggression (throwing plates), blood mention (nothing too graphic)

Warnings: it’s not the greatest and also i edited it at like 1 or 2am in the dark so like, maybe errors? Idk

Writing taglist: @everyonehasthoughts @imaramennoodle @bookwyrminspiration @percabetn @an-absolute-travesty @linhamon-roll @a-lonely-tatertot @loverofallthingssmart @vibing-in-the-void @clearlykeefitz @callas-starkflower-stew @enbies-and-felonies

The morning mist held strong, reinforcing gravity and making it even more difficult for Tam to drag himself out of his makeshift bed by the lake. Leaning over the fogged up waters, he wrung out his bangs, combing them back into place with his hands. The water here could hardly be trusted.

“Well,” he grunted as he stood up, patting an old dying tree with a gloved hand. “It was nice seeing you, Wildwood. You take it easy, alright?”

The trees groaned in response, both from age and from the weight of all that it had undergone and seen from the hazy backgrounds of the world. Maybe that was why he cared for Wildwood. It was like him. From the shadows. Ignored until needed. Cast aside when they differ from the norm. To him, he and Wildwood were one and the same. Or at least, they used to be. In the past months, Tam had found what Wildwood could only hope to receive: love.

And as the colors of the sunrise faded into blue, Tam was comforted by that one constant he had in his life. His perfect golden boy there to bring light into his world.

————

As soon as Tam walked into the Vackers’ territory, he was yanked to the side, knocking the breath from his chest. He prepared for a fight, but upon seeing a stylized sparkling fabric blinking in and out of sight, he relaxed just a bit.

“What the hell, B? I thought you were trying to attack me.”

“Quiet,” Biana scolded, finally coming into view. Her annoyed expression quickly changed to fear and dread as a shattering sound echoes across the stone walls of the extensive landscape. Biana shut her eyes and winced noticeably. “He’s been at that ever since Dad stormed off.”

“Rough day?”

“I guess you could say that.” Biana bit her lip. “Mom went after Dad after he yelled at us.”

“But the two of you are okay, right?”

“I’m alright. It’s Fitz I’m worried about,” she admitted. “I’ve been too scared to go up to him because of… well, you know.” Biana’s thumb traced over her scars absentmindedly.

Tam squeezed her shoulder comfortingly. “Hey, you did what you could. It’s not your job to stop him from doing something irrational, and you’re not expected to do something that’ll trigger you. I’ll go after him.”

“Tam, it’s fine, I’ll do it-”

“I’ll go after him, you get some rest.”

“Only if you promise to be careful,” she warned. “Use your cloak as a shield, so that you don’t get caught in the crossfire of his throws. And put your gloves back on!”

Tam slipped off his gloves and tossed them behind his back without a second thought. He dropped his cloak in a similar fashion, only going back to fold it neatly and add it to the pile. “I’ll be fine.”

“Tam, you know how he gets when he’s upset. The rage, it blinds him, it blurs anything and everything around him to the point where the only he knows is that fire of hate. He’s not going to register that it’s you approaching him.”

“I’m his boyfriend,” Tam pointed out in an exasperated manner. “I think I’ll be okay.”

“Well, you thought wrong.”

“Isn’t that a shame.”

Biana huffed, rubbing the crease between her brows. “You’re just as stubborn as he is.”

“Don’t they say that birds of a feather flock together?” Tam asked, walking backwards and opening his arms in a gesture that said That’s just how it is.

“Yeah, until the cat comes,” she shot back.

“Then let’s hope that cat doesn’t arrive.”

“You two idiots deserve each other!” she cried in one last attempt to get him to turn back.

“Thank you!” he called back, already headed towards the horizon.

Biana sank to the floor, scowling as she dragged Tam’s belongings closer to her for protection. “Dense fool,” she muttered. But Tam was already out of sight.

--------

Tam approached the area in a calm stroll, but as he drew nearer, the cold dread that Biana had described filled him and dragged him back, just like the familiar, addictive pull of the shadows. They gathered at his feet, shadowflux begging to be called on, but Tam was far too busy trying to calculate a way to coax his boyfriend into putting the crystal dishes down.

He was like a rampant bull, hurling plate after plate at the wall. His hands had small cuts, but overall he seemed to be unscathed despite the several hours this had clearly been going on. Tam avoided clumps of shattered pieces so as not to startle him. While his movements proved to make him a berserker, it was also an art. One slight decibel off might send him on the attacking side.

“Fitz!” Tam shouted. He didn’t even glance his way. “FITZ!” Still no response. He just kept on launching silverware as far as he could. Tam sighed. He didn’t want it to come down to this, but if Biana had waited hours just for him to show up and put an end to this, he was not going to let her down. He seized the tendrils of shadows that had been itching to be used and directed all of his focus towards the cup about to be thrown with the hope that if he used his ability instead of telekinesis, he would recognize his beloved.

Shiiiing!

Fitz immediately put his hands over his mouth in shock and guilt, rushing over to check the damage.

Tam cupped his hand, blood gushing from the wound like a river. “Guess you ran out of throwing stars, huh?” he joked halfheartedly, wincing as he applied pressure to the cut.

“Oh my goodness, I’m so dumb.” Fitz ripped off a sleeve from his shirt to wrap around the slice in his partner’s hand. He cupped Tam’s cheek, the boy gladly moving towards the physical affection. “I’m so sorry, Tammy.”

“It’s okay, you didn’t mean to do it,” he replied nonchalantly. Upon seeing the great panic spreading through Fitz’s person, he took a more gentle approach. “Hey, it’s okay. You’ve had a bad day and you just made a mistake, and I forgive you.”

“I hurt you.” Fitz’s voice cracked, and it became evident that Tam’s words had gone over his head. Fitz scooped Tam up in his arms and raced into the house.

“Relax, golden boy.” Tam rolled his eyes, but even he couldn’t deny that he enjoyed the attentiveness he was being given. “It’s just a little cut, it’ll heal.”

Fitz scrambled through the drawers until he found the bandages, a Bottle of Youth, and the antibiotic ointment. From there, his panic switched to precision, first rinsing the wound, then applying the ointment, then wrapping the gauze bandage. It was a completely different side of him, one that would sacrifice the world for the ones that he loved. And despite Tam’s rough exterior, he couldn’t help but lean his head on his other hand in admiration.

Once he had finished, Fitz sat on the bar stool next to Tam’s and combed through his rosy pink locks in distress. Tam nudged his shoulder with his nose several times, earning him a side hug and a kiss to the cheek, but no words other than the repeated apologies and self-deprecating phrases.

“Babe,” Tam said helplessly. “Let’s go upstairs at least, so we can talk about this privately.”

Fitz nodded, letting him lead the way. He was so preoccupied with his own thoughts that he didn’t notice when Tam had tucked him into bed and wrapped an arm around him, burying his face in his neck.

“I’m so, so sorry,” Fitz mumbled again. Tears welled up in his eyes, and Tam used his abled hand to wipe them.

“I told you it’s forgiven,” Tam gently reminded him. “Everyone makes mistakes.”

“Not the Vackers,” he countered, sniffling. “We always have to keep up our reputation, keep on smiling and charming everyone just to go to the store. I can’t go anywhere without people expecting me to be the perfect golden boy.”

“No one is perfect. We’re all flawed and traumatized and hurt, and we make stupid decisions because of them. You’re a kid, Fitz, it’s not your job to hold your family together.”

“I guess. But Biana…” he sighed, pulling Tam closer as he facepalmed in guilt. “I shouldn’t have done that with her here. And how am I supposed to clean up the yard before Mom gets back?”

“Don’t worry about that, the gnomes are already on it,” he coaxed. “And Biana understands. You can talk to her later. For now, the golden boy needs to rest.”

“I can’t,” Fitz protested, trying to get up. Tam flipped himself over him, ending up besides Fitzroy once more. “Tam, I have to take care of you, and help the gnomes, and apologize to Biana, and-”

“And all of that can wait until tomorrow,” Tam finished for him. “Except me, of course.”

Fitz laughed, a real, rich laugh, and he could tell that it was the first time he had done that in a while. “I’m guessing you want me to stay here all day, all night?”

“Well, I do need medical and physical attention you know.”

He kissed Tam’s nose, making him blush furiously. “Well then, I guess I’ve got to cancel my plans. But seriously, is there anything I can do to make it up to you?”

“You could kiss it better,” Tam suggested cheekily.

Fitz said no more, gingerly taking his wrapped hand and peppering kisses around where he knew the injury to be. He trailed them up his arms and neck until he finally met his lips.

“I am really sorry, babe. That got all out of control. My father, he… he’s done some messed up things to this family, and as the proclaimed ‘Gifted Child,’ I felt responsible for stepping in. And like everything else, I ruined it.”

“You don’t realize that the good you do purposely outweighs the slip-ups you make along the way.”

“This was more than a slip-up, Tam. I became a monster, something I’ve never seen before. I was a violent beast that lost control, all because my Dad yelled at me for being a ‘disgrace to the Vackers’ for being gay. And because of that stupidity, I hurt you, and scared Biana outside of that.”

Tam’s eyes widened with shock. “Wait, you got angry because you were protecting me?”

“Well, yeah, of course. My father can drag me down all he wants, but he’s not touching the people that I love.”

“Love?”

“I-I’m sorry, I should’ve known you weren’t ready-”

“I love you too.”

“I- Wait, really?”

“Duh,” Tam chuckled, before his expression grew shadowed and weary. “Besides… we all have a dark side. I know I’d do anything for the people I care about.”

“What does yours look like?” Fitz asked. “Your dark side, I mean.”

He smiled bitterly, shadows of his past trauma flashes before his eyes in a relentless, rough grip. “You don’t want to know that part of me.”

“Babe, I want to know every side of you.”

“You’re sure about that?”

“Of course,” Fitz grinned eagerly. “I want to know everything you’re willing to share.”

“Then cuddle with me. Get to know another part of me.”

Fitzroy rested his chin on Tam’s chest and brushed his bangs away from his eyes, just as his own were dancing with glee. “Gladly.”

—————

Tam woke up to a loud series of sharp knocks on the bedroom door.

“Your breakfast is gonna get cold,” a feminine voice told him.

He inhaled sharply and ruffled his hair, using his tunic to rub his eyes, all in an attempt to focus on the figure leaning against the doorframe.

“C’mon, it’s past noon.”

Tam bolted upright, rushing to the bedside to pull his boots on. It could’ve been Fitz calling to him, but his mind was cloudy, warping any and all audio that reached his ears.

“I knew that would get you up,” the voice snickered. “Fitz told me to get you up in time for breakfast in bed.”

Tam chanced a glance up to see if his vision had finally cleared. Yup, definitely not Fitz. “Oh hey, B. I take it you and your brother talked?”

She nodded, arms still crossed tightly around her lilac fleece-like pullover for warmth. “Came running to me and went on his whole apology speech once you passed out. It was dorky, but it was also very… him. If that makes any sense.”

“It does.” He took a moment to inspect the tray and found a neatly folded piece of paper. A note from him. He read through it as Biana kept talking.

Good morning dearest, I just wanted to leave you this note to remind you that I love you and to apologize once again.

“When I saw him rush outside a few minutes after Mom left with an armful of tupperware, I was confused, but when he started throwing them in the yard, I was terrified for him. He’s lost control, but never like that. I felt powerless.”

“You did what you could, no one can ask you for more,” he mumbled.

“I stood to the side and waited for his boyfriend to come and stop him, and he wound up getting hurt. Real brave on my end.”

“It’s not being brave you should be aiming for, it’s doing what you need to do in order to protect the people you live for.”

I’m sorry. I know you’ll probably tell me not to apologize, but I really needed to get that out there in ink. Thank you for being there for Biana, I don’t know how I would live with myself if I had traumatized her or made her feel unsafe around me, but we talked for a bit and she helped me find better coping mechanisms, so all is forgiven. Well, as long as I give her my desserts for this month.

“I don’t think I did that yesterday. I chose the coward’s path.”

“You took the wise path, and you protected number one,” Tam corrected. “You know your brother better than anyone, and you knew the right choice was to let him blow off some steam until someone who wasn’t present when everything went down could talk him out of it. That was brave, and I think it’s quite admirable, too.”

“I guess you’re right.” She sighed, pulling her hair into a messy ponytail to give her hands something to do. “Still, I’m sorry about your hand.”

Tam waved it off. “I’ve gotten enough Vacker apologies over that. There’s no need.”

“If you say so.”

You were completely understanding last night, even while I was breaking down. You guided me through everything, and you were there for me, even when I couldn’t be there for myself. Thank you for being there. For letting me shadow you until I could be whole and healed again.

“You’re good for him,” Biana blurted out abruptly.

Tam furrowed his brows, sure he heard that wrong. “I’m what?”

“I said that you’re good for him. Fitz. I meant what I said when I told you that you two idiots deserve each other.”

“Thank you,” he breathed in shock.

“Remember the idiot part and don’t let it get to your head.”

“Yes, ma’am.”

You are my healing darkness. No, not light. Darkness. Because I never understood why darkness was so demonized. Shadows are what keep you cool on a hot summer’s evening, what provides cover from the rain, and what puts you to sleep at night. The color black is as natural as the air flowing into our lungs, the blood circulating through our bodies, and the dirt under our feet. So when I think of darkness, I don’t think of fear; I think of hope. I think of you.

“You better not hurt him.”

“I won’t.”

“I’m serious, Tam. I know it sounds hypocritical considering what happened to you yesterday, but I’m just as protective of Fitz as you are of Linh. Understood?”

“Yes, Ms. Vacker.”

Biana relaxed a bit at the confirmation. “You promise to look after him?”

“I promise,” he agreed.

Y’know, when you called me golden boy, it got me thinking. Gold is the weakest metal, and for a while I thought the nickname fit me perfectly. A boy who was seen as the perfect, charming, valuable golden boy who could break in the blink of an eye. But the more I was with you, the more I thought about it. If shadows were misunderstood, maybe gold was too. And here’s the thing: gold doesn’t rust. You can break it and bend it and try all you want to ruin its life, but no matter what, you can’t make it rust. And second to you, that is the strongest thing I can imagine. So for you, I’ll stay strong. I won’t give up. I won’t rust.

“One last thing before I leave you alone.”

“Go right ahead.” Tam let himself free fall onto the mountain of pillows behind him, note still in hand.

“Don’t take advantage of him. He may be a pain in my neck, but he’s valuable,” Biana mentioned, clearly having so much more to say. “You’re… incredibly lucky to have him.”

So let’s work jointly on this. On healing. I’ll be your gold, strong when you’re weak. And you’ll be my darkness, always there for me. But we have to do this together. I’m willing to take a leap of faith if you are. All of my trust lies in you, and I hope you’ll pay me the same honor. So what do you say? Circle yes or no and meet me by Moonglade with your response. Last I remember, I still have to kiss it better.

With love,

Fitzroy

Tam picked up the pen tied to the tray and circled yes without hesitation. “I must be the luckiest man in the world.”

#pls give feedback!#kotlc #keeper of the lost cities #fitz vacker #tam song #titz #fitz and the tantrums #kotlc fanfic #Cade’s writing #titz week 2020 #should i post it this early? No #but I’m impatientttt #lemme know what you think about this one cuz i have mixed feelings

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uncloseted · 4 years

Note

Hey, I’m a big fan of your blog! When I saw the post about stupid questions, I thought I’d ask for some help. This isn’t necessarily stupid, but I don’t know.

How can I seem more confident?

I am confident within myself, but people are always telling me how insecure I am. Everyone is saying that I should be more confident. I don’t feel insecure, so why do I seem that way? I can be kind of quiet, so maybe that’s why.

Thanks! This isn’t a stupid question at all! The thing I get asked the most is actually how to build self-confidence or to care less about what other people think. For you, it seems like the issue isn’t actually in having self confidence, but in projecting self confidence. Some of that is in body language- having good, open posture (no crossed arms or legs), making eye contact, standing firmly, and not fidgeting will help to convey confidence. Some of it is in language- instead of hedging what you’re going to say will, “I think” or “maybe” or minimizing your feelings with “just”, try making clear, concise, and strong statements that end declaratively rather than questioningly. And some of it is in actions- do you ask everyone around you what they think before you make a decision? Do you defer to other people when a decision has to be made? Do you do things that you’re interested in, wear things you want to wear, watch what you want to watch, etc., regardless of what your friends are doing? You might appear more confident if you start asserting yourself or focusing less on what other people think of you.

Here are some other tips and tricks I’ve amassed for building self-confidence and not caring what other people think. Some of it might be relevant for you and some of it might not, but hopefully someone who needs it will see it.

The first thing to remember about confidence is that people aren’t drawn to people because they’re beautiful, or smart, or kind, or fun, or interesting. People are drawn to people who are confident (or appear to be confident). If you’re confident and weird, you’re not weird, you’re a visionary. If you’re confident and ugly, you’re not ugly, you’re “unconventionally beautiful” or a trendsetter. If you’re confident and overly serious, you’re not boring, you’re a leader. A lot of people think it’s the other way around- that only beautiful, smart, charming people who are well-liked can be confident- but it’s not true. To use a Skins example, Tony’s not a good person. He’s manipulative and cruel. But people like him (at least in the beginning) and go along with what he says because he’s confident. The same goes for Katie. You can argue about whether she’s objectively the most attractive girl in the group, but she acts confident in herself and in her appearance, and it works. Lots of guys are attracted to her. So that’s the first thing- don’t focus on changing yourself (physically or emotionally) in the hopes that you’ll be more confident. Instead, focus on changing your mindset to that of a confident person. It will make a huge difference.

Of course, that’s all easier said than done, and the process of building self confidence can take a while. In the meantime, while you’re on the journey of actually becoming confident, one thing that can help is “faking it until you make it”. When you’re going about your day, ask yourself, “how would a confident person who’s never experienced insecurity or anxiety handle this situation”? Then do what a confident person would do. If you have a really confident friend, it can help to imagine what they would do in a given situation and then do that. Pretend everyone you meet already loves you and thinks you’re great. Pretend like you think you’re great. It will feel uncomfortable at first, but you’ll start getting used to it and the “confident” responses to things will start feeling normal. One thing that can make this a little bit easier is to talk to yourself in the second person. By saying things like “you’ve got this”, your brain will (sort of) feel like you’re receiving advice from somebody else, which is more motivating than getting advice from ourselves.

There are also some exercises you can use to build your self confidence on your own. Some of you have heard this one before, so bare with me, but the first thing I suggest is: every morning, look at yourself in the mirror and say some things you like about yourself. I know you probably feel like you can’t find any, but try. Focus on those things that you like and try to only focus on those things. Write them down, either physically (on a sticky note on your mirror, maybe) or in your phone. Each day, try to add a new thing to the list. When you’re out and about, remember those things that you like about yourself, focus on them, and try to draw attention to them. When other people compliment you, add those to your list as well. I think eventually by recognizing all of the things that you like about yourself, you’ll be able to feel like there are things about you that you can be confident in, and you won’t focus so much on the things that you feel are negative. These don’t have to just be things that are physical. You should include things you like about your personality as well.

A lot of people who are insecure use deprecating humor to cope and as a bid to get other people to like them. But I think that can be really emotionally damaging. Like Hannah Gadsby said in Nanette, “I have built a career out of self-deprecating humor, and I don’t want to do that anymore..do you understand what self-deprecation means when it comes from somebody who already exists in the margins? It’s not humility. It’s humiliation. I put myself down in order to speak, in order to seek permission to speak, and I simply will not do that anymore, not to myself or anybody who identifies with me.” Self-deprecation impacts our self-esteem, and it impacts the way people around us view us. The more times we say something, even as a joke, the more we start to believe it, and the more the people around us start to believe it. So instead, make fun of yourself by pretending you’re really, really cocky. If you trip and fall, instead of saying, “I’m such a disaster”, replace it with “I’m the epitome of grace and beauty”. If you make a piece of art and you think it sucks, say, “Obviously I’m the next Di Vinci/Michelangelo/whatever.” If you say something dumb, instead of saying, “I’m so stupid,” say, “I’m clearly the next Einstein.” You still get to make a joke and diffuse any awkwardness the situation has, but you also get practice saying nice things about yourself. And eventually, you’ll get so used to saying nice things about yourself as a joke that it won’t feel so weird to say those things about yourself in a serious way, too.

For those people who feel insecure about things they did in their past, try and think of something embarrassing one of your friends has done. Can you think of anything? The vast majority of people remember their own embarrassing moments really vividly, but don’t remember things other people have done at all. Reminding yourself that you’re probably the only one who remembers or cares about the mistake you made can help you let go. The mistakes you’ve made in the past are learning experiences that you’ve grown from and changed from, and the fact that you’re embarrassed by them is a good thing. It means that you’re not that person anymore- that you’ve become someone better. I think that’s something to celebrate instead of something to cringe at. It can also help to talk to yourself as if you were a friend who’s remembering an embarrassing moment. Would you tell them how embarrassing that moment was and how much they suck? Probably not. You’d be nice to them and tell them things will be okay. Talk to yourself like you would a friend.

The fact that people aren’t paying attention to what you’re doing doesn’t just apply to cringey things you did in your past. People are unlikely to remember that one time you tried a new hairstyle or wore an unusual piece of clothing. They’re unlikely to remember that one time you asked someone out and they rejected you. So many of the social pressures we feel can be remedied by remembering that most people are way too worried about what they’re doing and how they appear to the world to care about what you’re doing.

One more piece of advice- stop comparing yourself to other people. The old adage, “comparison is the thief of joy” is totally, scientifically proven to be true. Comparing ourselves to other people (or to TV shows, movies, characters in books, etc) makes us much less happy because we’re comparing everything we know about ourselves, good and bad, with a curated version of this person. We don’t see them when they wake up in the morning with crusty eyes and frizzy hair, or when they have the flu, or when they’re overwhelmed and anxious and lashing out at the people around them. But the truth is that everyone, even the people you think have perfect lives that you see on social media, are just people. They have bad habits and negative traits and days where they’re not at their best, just like the rest of us. If you really want to start being confident, one of the best things you can do for yourself is to mute or unfollow the people who make you feel insecure online, and replace them with people who inspire you- artists or activists or cute videos of animals, whatever works. You’ll never be able to feel good about yourself if you’re constantly tracking all the ways in which you feel you don’t measure up. But you will if you’re constantly seeing all the ways in which you do.

Last thing. Basic life care stuff, like good posture, exercising, eating well, sleeping well, meditating, and just generally practicing self-care and taking care of yourself can improve your confidence as well. If you’re not starting on a strong foundation, it’s hard to build anything that will last. But if your foundation is solid, all of the things you do to build your self-confidence on top of that will be, too.

#Anonymous #effys-closet #effys closet

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boreothegoldfinch · 3 years

Text

chapter 12 paragraph viii

Only here’s what I really, really want someone to explain to me. What if one happens to be possessed of a heart that can’t be trusted—? What if the heart, for its own unfathomable reasons, leads one willfully and in a cloud of unspeakable radiance away from health, domesticity, civic responsibility and strong social connections and all the blandly-held common virtues and instead straight towards a beautiful flare of ruin, self-immolation, disaster? Is Kitsey right? If your deepest self is singing and coaxing you straight toward the bonfire, is it better to turn away? Stop your ears with wax? Ignore all the perverse glory your heart is screaming at you? Set yourself on the course that will lead you dutifully towards the norm, reasonable hours and regular medical check-ups, stable relationships and steady career advancement, the New York Times and brunch on Sunday, all with the promise of being somehow a better person? Or—like Boris—is it better to throw yourself head first and laughing into the holy rage calling your name? It’s not about outward appearances but inward significance. A grandeur in the world, but not of the world, a grandeur that the world doesn’t understand. That first glimpse of pure otherness, in whose presence you bloom out and out and out. A self one does not want. A heart one cannot help. Though my engagement isn’t off, not officially anyway, I’ve been given to understand—gracefully, in the lighter-than-air manner of the Barbours—that no one is holding me to anything. Which is perfect. Nothing’s been said and nothing is said. When I’m invited for dinner (as I am, often, when I’m in town) it’s all very pleasant and light, voluble even, intimate and subtle while not at all personal; I’m treated like a family member (almost), welcome to turn up when I want; I’ve been able to coax Mrs. Barbour out of the apartment a bit, we’ve had some pleasant afternoons out, lunch at the Pierre and an auction or two; and Toddy, without being impolitic in the least, has even managed to let casually and almost accidentally drop the name of a very good doctor, with no suggestion whatever that I might possibly need such a thing.

[As for Pippa: though she took the Oz book, she left the necklace, along with a letter I opened so eagerly I literally ripped through the envelope and tore it in half. The gist—once I got on my knees and fit the pieces together— was this: she’d loved seeing me, our time in the city had meant a lot to her, who in the world could have picked such a beautiful necklace for her? it was perfect, more than perfect, only she couldn’t accept it, it was much too much, she was sorry, and—maybe she was speaking out of turn, and if so she hoped I forgave her, but I shouldn’t think she didn’t love me back, because she did, she did. (You do? I thought, bewildered.) Only it was complicated, she wasn’t thinking only of herself but me too, since we’d both been through so many of the same things, she and I, and we were an awful lot alike—too much. And because we’d both been hurt so badly, so early on, in violent and irremediable ways that most people didn’t, and couldn’t, understand, wasn’t it a bit… precarious? A matter of self-preservation? Two rickety and death-driven persons who would need to lean on each other quite so much? not to say she wasn’t doing well at the moment, because she was, but all that could change in a flash with either of us, couldn’t it? the reversal, the sharp downward slide, and wasn’t that the danger? since our flaws and weaknesses were so much the same, and one of us could bring the other down way too quick? and though this was left to float in the air a bit, I realized instantly, and with some considerable astonishment, what she was getting at. (Dumb of me not to have seen it earlier, after all the injuries, the crushed leg, the multiple surgeries; adorable drag in the voice, adorable drag in the step, the arm-hugging and the pallor, the scarves and sweaters and multiple layers of clothes, slow drowsy smile: she herself, the dreamy childhood her, was sublimity and disaster, the morphine lollipop I’d chased for all those years.)

But, as the reader of this will have ascertained (if there ever is a reader) the idea of being Dragged Down holds no terror for me. Not that I care to drag anyone else down with me, but—can’t I change? Can’t I be the strong one? Why not?] [You can have either of those girls you want, said Boris, sitting on the sofa with me in his loft in Antwerp, cracking pistachios between his rear molars as we were watching Kill Bill. No, I can’t. And why can’t you? I’d pick Snowflake myself. But if you want the other, why not? Because she has a boyfriend? So? said Boris. Who lives with her? So? And here’s what I’m thinking too: So? What if I go to London? So? And this is either a completely disastrous question or the most sensible one I’ve ever asked in all my life.] [That little guy, said Boris in the car on the way to Antwerp. You know the painter saw him—he wasn’t painting that bird from his mind, you know? That’s a real little guy, chained up on the wall, there. If I saw him mixed up with dozen other birds all the same kind, I could pick him out, no problem.] And he’s right. So could I. And if I could go back in time I’d clip the chain in a heartbeat and never care a minute that the picture was never painted. To try to make some meaning out of all this seems unbelievably quaint. Maybe I only see a pattern because I’ve been staring too long. But then again, to paraphrase Boris, maybe I see a pattern because it’s there. [Do you ever think about quitting? I asked, during the boring part of It’s a Wonderful Life, the moonlight walk with Donna Reed, when I was in Antwerp watching Boris with spoon and water from an eyedropper, mixing himself what he called a “pop.” Give me a break! My arm hurts! He’d already shown me the bloody skid mark—black at the edges—cutting deep into his bicep. You get shot at Christmas and see if you want to sit around swallowing aspirin! Yeah, but you’re crazy to do it like that. Well—believe it or not—for me not so much a problem. I only do it special occasions. I’ve heard that before. Well, is true! Still a chipper, for now. I’ve known of people chipped three-four years and been ok, long as they kept it down to two-three times a month? That said, Boris added somberly—blue movie light glinting off the teaspoon —I am alcoholic. Damage is done, there. I’m a drunk till I die. If anything kills me—nodding at the Russian Standard bottle on the coffee table—that’ll be it. Say you never shot before? Believe me, I had problems enough the other way. Well, big stigma and fear, I understand. Me—honest, I prefer to sniff most times—clubs, restaurants, out and about, quicker and easier just to duck in men’s room and do a quick bump. This way—always you crave it. On my death bed I will crave it. Better never to pick it up. Although—really very irritating to see some bone head sitting there smoking out of a crack pipe and make some pronouncement about how dirty and unsafe, they would never use a needle, you know? Like they are so much more sensible than you? Why did you start? Why does anyone? My girl left me! Girl at the time. Wanted to be all bad and self-destructive, hah. Got my wish. Jimmy Stewart in his varsity sweater. Silvery moon, quavery voices. Buffalo Gals won’t you come out tonight, come out tonight. So, why not stop then? I said. Why should I? Do I really have to say why? Yeah, but what if I don’t feel like it? If you can stop, why wouldn’t you? Live by the sword, die by the sword, said Boris briskly, hitting the button on his very professional-looking medical tourniquet with his chin as he was pushing up his sleeve.]

And as terrible as this is, I get it. We can’t choose what we want and don’t want and that’s the hard lonely truth. Sometimes we want what we want even if we know it’s going to kill us. We can’t escape who we are. (One thing I’ll have to say for my dad: at least he tried to want the sensible thing—my mother, the briefcase, me—before he completely went berserk and ran away from it.) And as much as I’d like to believe there’s a truth beyond illusion, I’ve come to believe that there’s no truth beyond illusion. Because, between ‘reality’ on the one hand, and the point where the mind strikes reality, there’s a middle zone, a rainbow edge where beauty comes into being, where two very different surfaces mingle and blur to provide what life does not: and this is the space where all art exists, and all magic. And—I would argue as well—all love. Or, perhaps more accurately, this middle zone illustrates the fundamental discrepancy of love. Viewed close: a freckled hand against a black coat, an origami frog tipped over on its side. Step away, and the illusion snaps in again: life-more-than-life, never-dying. Pippa herself is the play between those things, both love and not-love, there and not-there. Photographs on the wall, a balled-up sock under the sofa. The moment where I reached to brush a piece of fluff from her hair and she laughed and ducked at my touch. And just as music is the space between notes, just as the stars are beautiful because of the space between them, just as the sun strikes raindrops at a certain angle and throws a prism of color across the sky—so the space where I exist, and want to keep existing, and to be quite frank I hope I die in, is exactly this middle distance: where despair struck pure otherness and created something sublime.

And that’s why I’ve chosen to write these pages as I’ve written them. For only by stepping into the middle zone, the polychrome edge between truth and untruth, is it tolerable to be here and writing this at all. Whatever teaches us to talk to ourselves is important: whatever teaches us to sing ourselves out of despair. But the painting has also taught me that we can speak to each other across time. And I feel I have something very serious and urgent to say to you, my non-existent reader, and I feel I should say it as urgently as if I were standing in the room with you. That life—whatever else it is—is short. That fate is cruel but maybe not random. That Nature (meaning Death) always wins but that doesn’t mean we have to bow and grovel to it. That maybe even if we’re not always so glad to be here, it’s our task to immerse ourselves anyway: wade straight through it, right through the cesspool, while keeping eyes and hearts open. And in the midst of our dying, as we rise from the organic and sink back ignominiously into the organic, it is a glory and a privilege to love what Death doesn’t touch. For if disaster and oblivion have followed this painting down through time—so too has love. Insofar as it is immortal (and it is) I have a small, bright, immutable part in that immortality. It exists; and it keeps on existing. And I add my own love to the history of people who have loved beautiful things, and looked out for them, and pulled them from the fire, and sought them when they were lost, and tried to preserve them and save them while passing them along literally from hand to hand, singing out brilliantly from the wreck of time to the next generation of lovers, and the next.

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tybaku · 3 years

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https://archiveofourown.org/works/30691259/chapters/77712440

Midoriya Izuku finds the incarnation of beauty and divinity sitting at a window of a hole-in-the-wall café just a few blocks away from home.

Or: An artist in search of inspiration unexpectedly finds a new muse.

Chapter 2: Him

Bakugou Katsuki finds himself standing at the foot of an altar fit for something more than a god at a quarter to 1.

The day is bright and clear, and the sun is hot on his head and shoulders. It’s too early to be out here, and yet too late, and there was already a thin crowd formed, curled around the centerpiece like a halo, or a crown. Katsuki shifts where he stands, dark eyes never leaving the piece of art on the bricked alleyway wall. He barely breathes.

He had been dragged here not out of his own accord, directly after a nearly two hour long elective class that was nothing but a bore, despite it sounding vaguely interesting down on paper.

“Analysis of Modern Art and Media 101” taught by Aizawa Shouta had been a bust of a class to choose, and each time Katsuki attends he wonders why the hell there is more of the same damn class, judging by the fact there was a 101 tacked on at the end of the name, and also it was probably the most soul-sucking class he was taking this school year. Katsuki doesn’t even care about art!

And yet, he’s still standing here. He’s standing here in a dingy, dirty back alley and gawking up at this piece of artwork like some kind of fool, his hands curling up inside his pockets. There’s a red warmth to his face that isn’t from the afternoon sun, and vaguely he thinks, maybe he could learn to care about art. Maybe he could learn to care because of this and this only.

“It’s me,” Katsuki says, not fully aware of his surroundings, or the murmurs that trickle about the little sea of people in the alleyway that are witnessing the same thing he is.

Because it is him, it’s the best version of him he’s ever laid eyes on. It’s a perception of him so pure and human, and flawless to the point where it’s perfection is debatable, and he has to take another look at it to really see what’s there. He’s wrong, the painting isn’t perfect, but it’s authentic. It isn't flawless, but it’s him, really and truly him; near flesh as it can get with its graffiti lines and colors and shapes.

Katsuki doesn’t want to look away.

Kirishima, the very guy who had brought him out here to view the godly offering on the wall, then pats his shoulder and grips onto him. “It’s you, man. Your mentions are sky high,” he says, eyebrows raised and obviously impressed. He shakes Katsuki a little when he becomes the victim of a dirty looking side-eye, wearing a little frown. “What?”

Katsuki shrugs his shoulder harshly, effectively shooing his friend off. “The hell you on about, shithair,” he says more than he asks. Kaminari’s head then pops up from beside them unexpectedly, with Ashido right on his toes, smiling from ear to ear. There’s a mischievous little glint in their eyes that they share unabashedly, and Katsuki sneers at it.

“Oh, you haven’t heard? You’re trending!” the other, less important blond exclaims, fishing out his phone to wave it around in Katsuki’s face. “Well, more like the art itself trending, but people are recognizing you! Tagging you in the pics on Insta, at’ing you on Twitter, linking you to this one art blog and shit like—” Kaminari only stops when Katsuki starts to bat his hands at him angrily, irritated at the fact he didn’t understand a word he was saying.

“What the fuck are you talking about?”

Kaminari makes an ugly looking face like he took a whiff of something foul, but Katsuki smells sweet as hell, thank you very much; his shampoo and conditioner have black and white charcoal in them. “Dude do you even check your phone like, ever? This”—Kaminari waves giant circles in front of Katsuki’s portrait as Katsuki himself mumbles a quiet I mute that shit during class—“is trending. Trending.”

Before Katsuki could tear one into him, Ashido pats at her friend’s shoulder, squeezing herself into the terrible excuse of a conversation. “I think he gets it, babe. What Denki’s trying to say is that this”—she gestures to the painting—“is gaining a whole lot of traction right now, not only because it’s stunning, but because the artist is literally one of the biggest deals in Japan right now. Deku’s like, hot-hot. He’s practically famous in the modern art scene, and he just painted your portrait without you even knowing about it. Do you really have no idea how huge this is?”

And, no, Katsuki doesn’t know, since there wasn’t even a reason why he would know in the first place (again, that modern art class sucks, and even though Aizawa-sensei was good enough of a teacher, Katsuki sometimes thinks even he didn’t want to be teaching it from the way he talks and lectures so tonelessly, a whole new level of bored flat) so the only thing he can do is blink, and blink, and glare as he tries to take in this new information.

It’s weird, isn’t it? Katsuki has never heard of this “Deku” guy, despite his supposed status, and suddenly he’s got a whole mural dedicated to him by the guy? He doesn’t know what he’s supposed to do with any of this, and he can’t even bring himself to be angry about it. He’s just confused, out of place, and so damn flattered that it’s absolutely ridiculous. Someone painted his portrait and painted it well. It should feel freaky, because it is; it’s an unfathomable situation, but it doesn’t really feel anything less than nice. Really damn nice.

“Oh my god,” Kaminari gasps suddenly, the back of his hand hitting the top of Ashido’s chest in exaggerated shock and disbelief, “do you guys know what this means?”

Katsuki’s eyes find their way back to himself. His profile is sharp and frustrated. Kirishima gasps, eyes blown wide in anticipation. “What?” he asks Kaminari quickly, ever the little worrywart of their group. Katsuki raised an eyebrow.

Kaminari goes smug, a little warp appearing in his dumb smile. “Kats-kun here’s got a not-so-secret admirer,” he sings in a tease, wiggling a little in place.

Despite the weird feeling curling in his chest, Katsuki scoffs at the claim, rolling his eyes. “More like a stalker,” he says, but his so-called friends outright ignore him, and turn their attention to, well, him.

Ashido giggles in delight, clapping her hands. “Oh that’s so true, there’s no way this isn’t a romantic thing! I mean, he even got Kats’ little pouty glare right!” she exclaims loud enough for everyone in the alley to overhear, like an idiot.

Katsuki narrows his eyes, and he swears one of them twitches. “My what,” he says more than asks.

Kaminari decides to take the mic, like a dumbass. “You know that thing you do when you get all frustrated about something and you try to pout, but it looks more like you wanna commit first degree murder or something?”

Katsuki doesn’t have any chance to maim him for the explanation he has unfortunately asked for, because Ashido is shrieking again, grabbing Kaminari and holding him close to her in excitement. “Oh my gosh, you’re so right! This is so romantic!” she draws it out annoyingly, before it becomes a straight up whine. “That’s so unfair! Why are you getting romanced and not me?”

And it’s not his place to say, so “Because Spikey has no balls,” stays trapped in between Katsuki’s grit teeth.

Sero then miraculously appears from somewhere behind Kaminari, a muffin and even Shinsou in tow, and Katsuki groans up to the sky when instead of saying something useful he decides to say, “They got that little beauty mark on his cheekbone too,” with a stupid smirk.

Blinking tiredly, Shinsou adds on “That’s some attention to detail,” like it means anything. “Though they missed most of the other ones.” He starts to unwrap his own muffin, peeling back the thin paper with his teeth. Katsuki wants nothing more than for him to choke on it.

“Hanta! Hitoshi!” Kaminari yells, as if the pair of them weren’t standing barely three feet from him. He reaches over and happily pulls Shinsou under his arm as Sero stalks over to Ashido. “Where you’ve been! You missed the big reaction!”

Sero lifts his hand. “Getting a muffin,” he says flatly.

Shinsou nods in agreement, humming in amusement. “Bet he blushed like a flower.” He takes a bite out of his muffin as Kaminari laughs and jokingly goes to bite at the bread.

And if Katsuki goes a little warm in the face at the dumb claim, it’s no one’s damn business. “What the hell does that even mean,” he snarls unkindly, crossing his arms.

Shinsou unwraps the other side of his muffin with his hands this time, and actually allows Kaminari to take a small bite. “I said what I said,” he shrugs, unapologetic.

“Oo, new slur dropped.” Ashido wiggles her pink eyebrows. Sero snorts, and Kirishima laughs amiably at her.

Katsuki has terrible friends, he decides, and they all can go burn in the under. He shoots them all a heavy glare they all ignore in favor of oohing and ahhing at his portrait. Shinsou looks over at him after a quick inspection of the piece. “So,” he starts, giving up the rest of his muffin to Kaminari’s grubby little hands, “what’re you gonna do?”

Katsuki raises an eyebrow, expression and stance slanted slightly to the right as he crosses his arms over his chest and cocked out his hip, leaning most of his weight onto one foot. “Hah? The hell you talking about?”

Shinsou blinks plainly at him. “The graffiti, genius. You think it’s weird, right? Figured you want to beat the guy’s face in for painting you without permission, or something.”

Katsuki frowns. Shinsou isn’t wrong really, or at least he shouldn’t be, but Katsuki doesn’t feel like violence was the answer here. (A shocker, he knows, but can you blame him? It’s like wanting to punish the Earth for rotating, or the sun for setting at the end of the day. Punishing the moon for moving the tides, and many other metaphors Katsuki can’t think of at the moment.)

He doesn’t want to go about this the wrong way. Beating his admirer’s (damn it, he means artist, thanks a lot Pinky ‘n Sparky) face into a pulp is definitely the worst approach he could possibly take. There ought to be a better, and much more appropriate option, shouldn’t there? What exactly should be done in this instance? What could he do?

There’s only one thing, really.

“I’m gonna find him.”

—

It’s easier said than done in a weird way, tracking down Deku. He really is a popular and well-known young artist, and his art is plastered practically all over every social media you can think of. He’s got his fair share of admirers and haters, and critiques of his more professional work (he’s not just a street artist like Katsuki had first assumed a few days ago, he’s actually got even better pieces than Katsuki’s portrait, if you can believe it) range from big art magazines to small internet influencers. There’s all kinds of stuff about his artwork, including videos and articles.

Deku’s work speaks to all kinds of people, he finds out.

Though unfortunately, there isn’t any public information about the artist himself. In fact, Deku is a pseudonym, and there is virtually no personal information pertaining to him anywhere. His identity is kept closely underwraps, and any interviews with him are all written word (Katsuki knows this because he has scoured all of Youtube trying to find a video with Deku, and has come up empty handed). Katsuki has absolutely no method of contacting him about the alleyway art, and no way of finding him about town.

Pushing his laptop away an inch, Katsuki sighs and takes a sip of his coffee. He’s hit yet another dead end on this art blog in his search for Deku’s damn contact information. It’s terribly frustrating at this point, because he’s so close it’s ridiculous. He’s pretty sure he’s figured out who Deku actually is: Midoriya Izuku, a journalist who looks to be based here in Musutafu, and the guy whose blog Katsuki’s been snooping through for the past three days.

The guy’s got a plethora of articles and photography on a number of different artists, but according to the internet, he’s more known to be a Deku enthusiast, and most of his material stems from Deku’s artwork. In fact, he’s already got an article up about Katsuki’s portrait, dated three days ago. That was the first giveaway.

If you look through Deku’s official Instagram, Katsuki’s portrait (titled Musutafu Delight, after the side of the café it was painted on, but Katsuki ain’t gonna call it anything else but his portrait) was posted bright and early at 7 in the morning three days ago, and Midoriya’s article on The Canvas about said portrait was posted not ten minutes later. Awfully speedy for someone who is allegedly not even the artist of the piece, no?

And if you read through Midoriya’s blog and Deku’s written interviews, the connection between them becomes even more glaringly obvious due to the fact Midoriya writes his articles similarly to the way Deku does in his interviews, so much so that it couldn’t possibly be counted as a mere coincidence. Their wording and phrasing of things is near exact, and their pools of vocabulary are closely shared.

Plus, you’d have to be an idiot to not see where the artist’s pseudonym comes from.

“Deku can be derived from the same kanji as Izuku. It’s literally the same,” Katsuki had explained to his stupidly incredulous group of friends, who dismissed his “theory” on Deku’s true identity like the bunch of morons they were. The only one who seemed even halfway convinced was Sleepy, and even then he just looked amused at Katsuki’s frustration trying to map out what he was talking about to the rest of the group in his overly simple terms.

Anyway, Katsuki had little to no doubt about Deku’s real identity, but that didn’t exactly mean it made finding the guy any easier. Seriously, what kind of a dimwit doesn’t even put down their email on their own goddamn blog?

Deku, apparently.

Katsuki sighs once more before sipping what was left of his coffee and exiting out of Midoriya’s blog with a dull click. Without any other clear leads, there wasn’t much he could do in regards to finding the guy, and he rather not run himself ragged trying to do so all at once. He could always chase his tail looking for Deku later, since he wasn’t really getting anywhere anyway. Such a damn shame.

Unexpectedly a throat clears, and Katsuki looks up halfway prepared to throw a scowl at Kirishima’s stupid little smile (Katsuki told him specifically not to bother him today since he had so much shit to get done, which may or may not have been an excuse to keep on internet “stalking” Deku, as Sparky and Sleepy so eloquently put it), but finds a completely different stupid little smile he doesn’t recognize by a long shot.

It’s a guy with a scatter of freckles all over his face and green highlights in his curly black hair. He has big round eyes and a healthy pink glow to his cheeks. In short, he’s cute, but he carries himself like a wounded animal, a shy and skittish little thing. He looks like a big dork in his glasses and sweater splattered with paint at the hem.

“Hi,” the dork says in a sort of sigh filled to the brim with nerves as his fingertips flinch around the little ringed book he carries in his hands.

Katsuki quickly fits a frown onto his face, intentionally standoffish to lure this four-eyed man away. Somehow, it doesn’t work, and instead of being deterred by the attitude he was putting on, the man sits himself down in the empty seat in front of him, a wobbled smile on his lips. Katsuki narrows his eyes slightly, annoyed but impressed by the gall of the nerdy looking guy.

“Uh, my name is M-Midoriya Izuku, I’m a full time artist and journalist and”—the guy shifts in his seat and lets out a huge huff—“wow, you are super pretty up close.”

Katsuki blinks, and promptly blushes like a flower. (Thanks for that, Sleepy.) He didn’t take Deku for the bold type.

“I, um. That’s not what I—Well, yeah I did mean that, you are very pretty—uh, handsome, but that’s not what I—”

Scratch that, Deku definitely wasn’t the bold type, just the “doesn’t think before speaking” type. Fortunately, Katsuki was well acquainted with those types (i.e. his friends), so he doesn’t find it as annoying as he would've. Plus, Deku wasn’t saying anything bad, he was complimenting him.

“You’re fine,” Katsuki has to cut him off from his quick paced rambling. Every word had sounded like it was stuffed into the last, jumbled and nearly indecipherable.

“You’re Deku, right? I got your message,” he smirks in a tease as he leans back casually. Spikey and Pinky were going to freak when Katsuki told them he found Deku, and Sparky was going to eat his words. (Midoriya isn’t Deku, his ass. All the clues were right there. In plain sight.)

Deku stops, and then color bursts into his face. “How did you…” he drifts off, speechless for the first time since he sat down. Katsuki raises his brows and then holds up a finger in a hold on gesture, clicking his laptop awake and opening up his history tab. He turns the screen so Deku can see all the websites he’s visited in the past three days.

At a glance, it’s obvious everything is related to Deku and his artwork, but Deku’s lips downturn in confusion and Katsuki has to explain. “It’s research. Was trying to find the dork who painted my face on the side of the café,” he says as Deku gives a little squeak. Katsuki clicks the most recent tab and opens up The Canvas, aka Deku’s blog.

“You said your name was Midoriya Izuku? Full time artist and journalist? Izuku can be read as Deku, meaning either you are Deku, you work with Deku, or you’re some freak obsessed with Deku. Your pick,” Katsuki finishes before turning his laptop back toward him and clicking it to sleep.

Deku only gapes at him, eyes wide and shining in something Katsuki could only describe as awe. “You’re amazing,” he says in a certain way that entails he was talking before thinking again, and weirdly enough, Katsuki feels an unexpected warmth in his chest because of it.

“Bakugou Katsuki, by the way. And I ain’t a snitch. It’s obvious you wanna keep your identity a secret. Just knowing I’m right is enough. Did’ya want something from me, Freckles?” Katsuki lolls his head to the side, staring Deku down and ignoring the tingling in his hands.

Deku startles slightly, one step behind and still mouthing Bakugou under his breath like he was trying to familiarize himself with it. Weird, but cute in a way. Deku shifts around in his seat, fiddling around with his fingers in his lap. “Oh well, um. It’s nice to meet you, Bakugou-san, and I, uh…actually had a proposition for you?”

Katsuki wrinkles his nose, but nods at him to continue.

Deku gives him a shy little smile, one that crinkles the tiny freckle above his top lip. “Would you like to model for me?”

#bnha #bkdk #ty.types

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thejustmaiden · 4 years

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Why do you think Sunrise did that event in with Sesshomaru and Rin's VAs mirroring InuKag? They have already done that CD Drama, do you think they did that to give hope to the shippers? What if after so many hints, if they reveal in the anime that Sessrin isn't canon, aren't the shippers gonna be disapointed? This may be a dumb question and your answers are always smart and well-articulated, but i seriously don't understand their marketing strategy, do you care to explain for me?

Oh, hey there! I appreciate all the love you've been leaving on my blogs lately. I really hope I'm able to give you an answer you're satisfied with. Sorry it took some time to get back to you. I hope this makes up for it. 🙏

I'm not gonna lie, I'm up and down about how I feel about that livestream and what it means for the future of this ship. My brain has been on roller coaster mode since basically the moment the sequel was announced. We're in the home stretch now, and we better get the answers WE WANT the second that sequel comes out. Since it's evidently not going to happen anytime sooner- welp!

Before the livestream aired, I really thought us fans were on the verge of discovering the mom and that it was going to be Rin. We still had hope she wasn't, but at the same time most of us antis were "bracing for impact." lol

Then nothing happened.

We were pretty shocked but obviously relieved. The days before it came out, I was telling others (as well as myself lol) that just because Sesshomaru and Rin's VAs had a livestream together doesn't confirm anything. Besides, why does that have to automatically mean that both pairings need to be romantic? We all know how integral these characters are/were to each other's storylines, so these pairings make the most logical sense, wouldn't you say?

In the previous livestream with the voice actors who play Inuyasha and Kagome, they discuss the new character Moroha and introduce her as Inuyasha AND Kagome's daughter. Now let's compare that to the other livestream with Sesshomaru and Rin's VAs. When they described Towa and Setsuna, they did so as Sesshomaru's daughters NOT Sesshomaru and Rin's daughters. That to me is the most telling piece of evidence.

Like how could they not use that prime opportunity to tell us Rin's the mom when her voice actor was literally sitting right there??! We were all expecting it and they still insisted on giving us nothing! What this tells me is that it's possible this mom is a new character, and it even appears she is quite pivotal to the new series. I keep changing my opinion on that part though to be honest with you, because sometimes I think she won't be important at all in the grand scheme of things. (See what I mean about being up and down? lol) Idk about you, but it seems to me like we haven't even met her character. If it was Rin, why keep it a mystery? It's not like Sessrin's popularity is exactly a secret in this fandom. Why wait until the big reveal if it's "so obvious" in the first place? How does Sunrise benefit from hiding this information?

If it does end up being Rin, it would've been better to just come out and say it. If this ain't just pure fanbait like some of us still hope it is, why hold back? Give 'em what they want already and let us antis be at peace. If they hope to think that I'll change my mind and give this sequel a go just because I've waited this long so might as well, they're sorely mistaken. If anything, I'm going to be pissed they kept us in the dark this long when they could've just saved us all the trouble. I imagine that goes for a lot of us, shippers and antis alike. Whatever way you look at it, I won't be invested in this sequel if Sessrin goes canon- period. I cannot and will not be on board with a series that promotes such a harmful and insulting dynamic.

Which brings us to Sunrise's marketing strategy. Well, I definitely think they have been catering to the fans of this ship for quite some time now. Because, ya know, money. Whether that's because they plan to make this ship canon or not remains to be seen. "Show meee the moneeeeyyyy!" *yells in Jerry Maguire*

There was first the drama cd and more recently that calendar which included art of adult!Rin with Sesshomaru, but neither of those are canon first off. Also, does anyone know if it was actually confirmed to be pro-Sessrin fan art? I mean, I know it doesn't look very good when the artist who made it is a Sessrin shipper and certain fans are fawning over their OTP, but that doesn't necessarily mean the calender automatically is either last I checked. I wonder why it can't simply be Rin as an adult visiting with Sesshomaru. I believe in one picture she's seen giving him a flower, much like little Rin would've done, or just as any child does for a loved one. So if Rin is still bringing him flowers as an adult, I would assume that means their relationship dynamic hasn't changed at all. That's what's supposed to happen, too! If an adult's relationship was established with another person while they were just a child, then that adult will always view them as a child no matter what and vice versa. Even when those children become grown-ups, that won't change. That's just how things are, or how they're supposed to be rather. In other words, a normal healthy adult-child bond does not resemble one like Sessrin.

Both Sessrin fans and antis agree there haven't been any romantic implications between Sesshomaru and Rin in the original series. That's why I can't understand for the life of me why we're even having this discussion. Alas, here we are. This is what happens when society has conditioned us to believe that the only proper (aka "best") way an adult male and a young female's closeness can evolve is with romance. So maybe it's not obvious at first (because that would be illegal), but we should EXPECT their relationship to shift in that direction. Why, you ask? Well, simply because sexualizing young girls is the norm so why not, right? No clues or foreshadowing required! Because like I just said, that would be illegal. Fiction has loopholes for this kinda stuff, so problem solved?

Nope! Aging her up counts too, folks! When you look at a girl character and the first thing you think is, "I can't wait till she grows up so she can f*ck" then, yeah, you're a part of the problem. You may not realize it, but you are. That's not to say you're a bad person or that it's even your fault, just saying that there are times in all of our lives where we start to question some of our beliefs. If you not only support but desire the idea of a romance eventually forming between a grown man- yes, 19 is an adult- and a young girl, then you should probably ask yourself why that may be and re-evaluate. Please stop using cultural differences and history that dates back almost a thousand years to justify this so-called tradition.

"You all shouldn't think too deeply about this, it's just fiction! Ugh, you're ruining the fun! Antis should all just shut up! Only we can have problems, but when you do it's just complaining!"

Right....

And by the way, most of us are not even complaining. We're being critical of the content we're watching. Criticism isn't always pretty unfortunately.

If Sunrise and Rumiko do decide to go through with this, then I will disappointed, sure, but not surprised. Romanticizing these sexualized images of young or pre-pubescent girls has been happening for far too long, after all. We've become desensitized to it sadly enough, especially when the media continues to glorify it. I wish we'd realize how many young girls- or minors in general- we're putting in danger by sending messages such as this.

To you young teenage girls and even boys reading this, you may not fully understand right now, but it's never okay for anyone to tell you that your body being sexualized is a natural and beautiful thing. It's going through through a lot changes at your age, yes, but they should never use your curiosity to satisfy their sexual needs. Don't allow some of these stories to be an example of what is acceptable to occur in your own life if you were ever to encounter a similar situation, especially if fiction is all that you have to compare it to. It is not in any way, shape, or form okay for an adult to say or do sexual/romantic things to you. Even a conversation that may seem harmless at first could have dire consequences. No, not even if you trust them and they're one of your favorite people in this world are these things ever appropriate. What they're asking from you or showing you is dangerous, and even if it doesn't seem like it they are very likely taking advantage of you. If you're ever unsure about something, don't hesitate to come to me. Or maybe you have a loved one that you can go to, that works too. 😊

Idk if I even gave you a definite answer, but perhaps it's because I'm still figuring it out myself. If I ever do, ha! I hope by allowing you to get inside my head for a little bit you got a better idea. Or maybe not, and I just made it more confusing for you. Oops! lol Feel free to hit me up again, dear, and have a nice day/night!! 👋

#inuyasha #hanyo no yashahime #anti sessrin #asks #answered ask

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yikesharringrove · 4 years

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How about a continuation of the MafiaAU where most people just see Steve as Billy's arm candy, his weakness but he is really the more ruthless of the two or the power behind the throne? Like Steve has been learning the business his whole life and takes advantage of the way people talk more freely around him because they see him as too dumb to understand. Billy gets it though and loves his pretty little viper.

So in my little brain, the mafia au was modern, but I don’t think i ever specified that, so yee.

More murder boyfriends, some fucking, this is also totally based on that quote from My Big Fat Greek Wedding where the mom says something like “The man may be the head, but the woman is the neck and can turn him any which way she likes.”

They also fully use torture (of another person) as foreplay.

Under the cut.

Read on ao3

When Billy and Steve got married, they merged their power completely.

Billy was the de facto head of their new combined assets, the cities the Harringtons had control of, as well as the front businesses, and of course, the Chicago branch that Billy owned.

Billy gave Steve many wedding presents, would shower him with clothes and trinkets, ornate knives and guns. But he surprised him, on their wedding knight with one perfect one.

“Bill, you shouldn’t have.”

Steve’s father was bound and gagged, tied to a chair in a warehouse on the edge of the city, close to the docks of Lake Michigan, ready for the body to be dumped.

“Wanted to get you something special, Kitten.” Billy was running his fingers along his tools, the knives and saws he used for his art. Steve was pressed against his back, peppering kisses to his neck, eyes dark and trained on his father. “You wanna help, or just wanna watch.”

“I think I’ll watch, for now. Wouldn’t mind finishing him off, though.” Billy turned around, connecting their mouths, one hand roughly holding the back of Steve’s head, the other holding a sharp knife.

They spent the whole night in the warehouse, Billy carving patterns into Mr. Harrington’s flesh, Steve whispering to him all the reasons he deserved it, the way he peddled his own son to make his connections, how the Harrington name was built on Steve’s body.

It was a slow death, Steve only dealt the final blow as the sun was threatening to rise. They walked to the car, bloody hands intertwined as they let their men deal with the body, dispose of the evidence.

The next day was spent making love, slowly, passionately, as their own free agents, neither of them having to answer to anyone, wanting to answer to each other.

When Steve’s father was the head of the Harrington estate, he would often talk loudly and freely about how disappointing his son is. He would call him an idiot, a good for nothing child. Would say the only thing he was good for was being bent over. Would send him city to city to let potential allies do just that. He would give him to his henchmen, the cronies he sent out on runs and jobs, would let them have him for a night as a treat.

But Steve let this happen.

He wanted everyone to think he was dumb, because that was his access. People did a lot of talking around him, always figured he didn’t understand the codes they used. He would steal documents off of desks when the man who owned it would be too busy to notice him slip it into his discarded pants. He knew everything about everyone, and Billy Hargrove was the first person to see that.

After their marriage, after the Harrington-Hargrove mob was created, was built, Billy was only more feared.

He had extreme power, and has used dirty tricks to get it. But Steve, not many people gave a second thought to Steve. He was the beautiful arm candy. Always had been, so why wouldn’t that be his role here?

Many thought Billy had only married him to gain the Harrington power, some decided Steve was being held against his will. Some figured it was all a front, an arrangement for Billy to get more power, and they wanted little to do with one another.

The people who said that, almost always wound up dead.

Steve would be an integral part to every meeting Billy had. He would come in, would perch on the arm of Billy’s chair, and would say very little. He would give tittering laughs and throw love-struck looks to Billy.

But when everyone cleared out, he would give Billy everything he knew.

Steve was always in tune with any gossip. He knew people, and never forgot a face. He would tell Billy which men were trustworthy, who was waiting to double cross them. He would point out who had hit on him, and who he had to let fuck him before they were partnered.

Billy always took Steve with him when he was eliminating these men. He wanted them to know exactly who had condemned them, told them they had underestimated Steve in a big way, always let Steve take the kill shot.

Billy is seen to have all the power, but Steve calls the shots, standing behind him, whispering in his ear.

Billy was the first to know about the Bonanno family’s plans to kill Billy. Had heard a few Bonanno lap dogs talking about it as he made his way to Billy’s office, had heard them say Hargrove won’t fuckin’ know what hit him and once he’s out of the way, I’m takin’ that pretty little piece of ass for myself.

He had fluttered his eyelashes as he passe, offered them a simpering good morning and entered Billy’s office.

He leaned down to Billy, pretended to give him a kiss on the cheek.

“Four attack dogs, waiting for signal to ambush.” He groped for the gun Billy kept under his jacket the silencer screwed on tight. He whipped around and shot the head of the Bonanno family, one bullet, right between the eyes.

“Good shot, Princess.” Billy admired his handiwork, always so proud. He directed his own lap dogs to take care of the four in the hallway. They were brought into the office, hands cuffed behind their backs, guns pressed to their temples.

“Heard them say when their boss came out, they were gonna run in here, gonna take you out. Steve stood in front of one, let his fingers drift over his jaw. “This one said he was gonna take me for himself.” He kneeled in front of him, one hand gripped roughly in his hair. “Go ahead, tell my husband what you said. I’m sure he wants to know.”

The man’s eyes were panicked, shifting between Steve’s sweet smile and Billy, leaning against the desk, gun held lazily in his hand.

“Please, share what exactly you said.” Billy’s grin was viscous.

“I, uh, said I’d take him for, for myself.” Steve tutted.

“Pretty sure there was more you said.” Steve stood back up, moving to Billy, giving him his best doe eyes. “He said I was a pretty little piece of ass. Said I’m probably real tight. Said he’d love to,” he took a breath, one finger curling in Billy’s belt loop. “Force himself in.”

Billy shot the first man, one bullet straight in the face. He was seething. No one was allowed to talk about his baby like that. He shot the next two, leaving the one that had spoken of last, nodding at his guards to take the rest of the bodies out of here, to throw him on the chair across for Billy’s desk.

“So, what do you think gives you the right to say those things about my husband.” He brought out a flat box, the velvet insides holding his blades, the sharp silver ones Steve had given him as a wedding gift. “You plan to kill me, and to rape my sweet baby.” He tutted. The man in the chair was sweating, his eyes wide. Billy held the box out, standing to the side. “Kitten, I think you should have the honors.”

Steve had watched Billy work a hundred times. He knew where to cut, which tendons to sever to cause the most pain. He was as artful as Billy, less practiced, but still sure.

He didn’t make too many cuts, didn’t want the man to bleed out. He situated himself on the desk, in plain view of the man and his own husband.

“I think we should give him a little show. What do you think, Darling?” He was looking at Billy through his lashes. “Let him see what he’ll be missing out on.” He took off his jacket, undoing the buttons on his shirt slowly, revealing soft, pale skin.

“I think that’s a wonderful idea, Kitten.” Billy stepped in to undress Steve the rest of the way, using their belts to strap the man down to the chair, making sure he couldn’t escape while they were wrapped up in one another.

Steve stared at him darkly, really made a show of fingering himself, opening himself up for Billy. The man obviously didn’t know where to look, wanted to watch the three fingers disappearing into that dusky pink entrance.

“You’re allowed to watch. We’re putting on a show, just for you.” Steve purred out, standing to turn around, bend over the desk, whole exposed, wet with lube and stretched out.

Billy shifted him around, spread him out on his back, legs spread open, giving the man a side view of their fucking.

Billy didn’t hold back, was rough with Steve, yanked his hair and bit at him, leaving marks in the spaces between fading ones.

Steve was arching, his noises high-pitched, breathy, loud. He kept his eyes open, trained on the man beside them, as if to say this could’ve been you.

He came quickly, bent up and hard from the events of the day, the way they were being watched. He begged Billy to touch him, to let him cum. Billy obliged, as he always would, stroking him fast and hard, fucking him through it as his back drew tight, as he screamed, as he shot off all over himself.

Billy forced him to his knees, finishing all over Steve’s face. Steve stayed there, breathing heavily and naked, face covered in thick white cum, blinking slowly at the man, licking his lips.

Billy retrieved his gun and the man could feel it against his temple.

“Next time, don’t forget who the real boss is.”

Steve grinned as the shot rang out.

#don't know WHERE this came from #honestly im kinda shook #i need to turn inward and like #study mysefl a lil #yikes write #harringrove #mafia au #steve harrington #steve harrington x billy hargrove #billy hargrove x steve harrington #billy hargrove #harringrove fic #harringrove ficlet #harringrove drabble

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bittervitter · 4 years

Text

ang0mang0′s “copycat” claims

I didn’t want to have to make another post about this, but since people on sonicfan799 / thatAnge / @ang0mang0′s Tumblr profile are getting riled up about this ridiculous drama that should have died ages ago, I figured I’d defend myself. Some people who are trying to support me have been saying incorrect things too, so I also wanted to clear that up. This crap has been going on for months, everyone is sick of it by now. Instead of being brief like I did for other social medias, I’ll be as detailed as possible this time.

[1] “she’s copying/imitating/heavily referencing from my art style!!!”

Like people have said a million times, no I’m not. And nor is anyone else. Just because someone draws the Sonic characters in a similar style to you does not automatically mean they took, copied or “stole” those ideas from you. You don’t own the concept of buff, fluffy bodies or chubby muzzles. COINCIDENCE, as much as you hopelessly deny it, is very much a possible thing- even in crazy situations such as this. There are several other artists who have similar art styles by mere coincidence. IT IS NOT IMPOSSIBLE. As examples, these Instagram artists have similar styles: @ azulytoons and @ indigonite0 / @ magenta_mel and @ zer0finix / @ himemikal and @ natirix. NONE of these artists are “stealing” or referencing from each other- they just have similar art styles, and that is perfectly okay! They draw completely different things with completely different mindsets. The world does not revolve around you, ang0. Not everyone knows who you are, so some people who use the same traits that we do don’t even know we exist.

Also, to anyone unaware, an art STYLE is not merely how one chooses to portray a character. An art STYLE is also what brushes you use, how you sketch, how you line, how you colour, how you shade, how you choose to portray certain objects or ideas- basically your entire fucking understanding of how something’s supposed to look and how you LIKE it to look. It’s not just “chubby faces, poofy curly hair, buff bodies”. It’s everything in a piece AND that.

[2] “she’s tracing my art/ redrawing my ideas!”

Literally no. People have constantly asked you to provide evidence and you refused to. All you did was scream “but it’s so obvious, just look at it!” or “are you dumb? use your eyes!” and several other insults. If you want to prove a point or make someone see something, GIVE. EVIDENCE. The only person who actually provided “proof” was pin_kpeach, your ever so loyal whiteknight, but her “proof” only backfired and proved that the both of you are extremely delusional. In the drawings of ours that she layered over each other, next to NONE of the lines lined up. It looked like a clustered mess of scrap, and the reason for that is because IT WASN’T TRACED. In the one or two drawings where ONE. SINGLE. PIECE. actually lined up was entirely zoomed in to make it seem as though the whole thing was traced. No, honey, that’s not how you provide proof. That’s how you pull a muscle by reaching so desperately to lie about me. The rest of the drawings in those pictures didn’t line up at all, and one- or I believe both- needed to be titled to line them up in the first place. You could say that some people trace things and resize or rotate them, but if I were as dumb as you persist to say, then I wouldn’t have done something like that. Either way, one aspect of a drawing lining up is a common thing for people who have similar styles because- well, I just said it. THEY HAVE SIMILAR STYLES. If they draw something the same way, well fucking duh, it’ll match someone else’s drawing almost exactly sometimes.

[3] “she’s too petty and too much of a liar to credit me! saying the art isn’t hers will hurt her oversized ego!”

Ahaha no. The only one here with an inflated ego is you, ang0. You call me the egotistical one yet you act as though your life is falling apart just because someone else draws like you on the internet. Stop acting like a special snowflake, you are not the only one on this planet with an art style of that nature. I don’t credit you because crediting you makes no damn sense. Why should I credit someone who’s had absolutely no impact on my work whatsoever? What in the hell did you do for my drawings that makes you deserve so much credit? Did you sketch it? No. Did you line it? Nope. Did you colour or shade it? Not a chance. Just because I came up with a design for the characters that happens to look like yours does not mean I owe you jack shit. You cannot. own. a style. Get over it.

[4] “she worsened my depression and is the reason I can’t draw anymore! I have no motivation when there’s some idiot copycat stealing all my art!”

I don’t want to sound like that kind of person, but you worsened your own depression. You painted this false picture in your head and continue to hang onto that belief like your life depends on it. I haven’t done ANYthing to you. You came to ME with these stupid claims back when my art looked LESS like yours, before I even knew who you were. You’re making yourself feel horrible because you, for some paranormal reason, refuse to believe that you’re not the only one with that kind of style. This is why people call you childish, you’re like a whiny baby that can’t accept another child having a toy similar to yours. I can’t even decide whether I should say “grow up” because you’re older than me- not to mention you’re an ADULT.

[5]”she constantly sends her whiteknights to attack me, harass me and send me threatening messages!”

I’ve said several times to my followers NOT to harass you or your followers or anyone against me in this mess at all. I do not send anyone after you. People say things to you out of their own free will and with their own words. I can’t magically know when this happens, why they decide to and I especially can’t control anyone. I’m sorry that my friend Koro sent you all those DMs and horrible messages wishing a lot of very bad things onto you and your family- I asked her several times before and after not to do that, but I didn’t have a clue she did it until after the fact. Either way, don’t go around assuming that I put people up to this or I intentionally ask people to do these things to you. Why in the hell would I do that? What good does that do? All I wanted to do was talk things out but at this point, you don’t even take me seriously, so I can’t even try anymore. The few times we did talk you refuse to see my point of view and just see me as a liar. What the hell am I supposed to do then?

[6]”all vio does is lie, she’s so fake all the time, lying for her petty ego”

I’m not even sure how to respond to this but I thought I might as well bring it up. No matter what I do or say, ang0 sees me as nothing but some retarded liar that can’t help but lie their way around everything, even though I’ve been nothing but genuine all this time. It’s why I can’t even communicate with her anymore, because “shut up, stop lying you copycat” is all I get in response basically.

[7] her insane hypocrisy

Ange and pin_kpeach have said numerous times that I’m rude or insult her, and there have been times where I’ve been mean out of anger, but I know for a fact I apologized for it in DMs. Ange apologized too. I don’t remember ever insulting her after that, but ang0 doesn’t ever stop ridiculing and insulting me with almost every comment she makes on the drama. If she really was sorry, she wouldn’t have done it again, but I guess she said “fuck it” and just continued anyway. Pin_kpeach likes to say I’M the hypocrite for saying Ange is harassing me yet being rude to her a couple times, yet they do they exact same thing, but even worse?? I try my best to be as civil as possible, but ang0 and pink don’t waste a second calling me and my supporters all sorts of colourful names just because they don’t agree with her claims. In fact, here’s a list of every single thing ang0’s ever called me:

retarded, retard, stupid, idiot, dumb, low IQ, mentally ill, crazy, talentless, skill-less, copycat, art thief, (dumb) cow, fuckhole, asshole, bitch, wanna-be artist, unreasonable, clown, fake, liar, hypocrite, delusional, dick, stalker, bittershitter, dumbass, immature

There’s probably more than that, but that’s as much as I can remember. Not hard to forget when she repeats them almost all the time.

[8] gatekeeping ideas

Ange and pink act as if two people drawing a character in the same outfit automatically equals “du bist kopying mein style!!”. I can’t even begin to imagine the mental gymnastics you need to do in order to believe a thought process like that is logical. She thinks that anyone who draws Amy in a dress with a white under-skirt or white ruffles underneath is nothing but a copied idea from her. She thinks that me drawing Amy in a green tank top, blue backwards cap and blue sports shorts is copying her drawing of Amy in a green unidentifiable top (you could only see her back, she didn’t seem to have straps) and blue sports shorts with a slightly different design is automatically copied from her. The poses, shading, angle and idea behind the drawing were COMPLETELY different- but nonono, “this is stolen because the outfit is the same!” They also use the excuse of the whole chubby faces, curly hair, blah blah blah- see point [1] as to why that’s BS.

[9] her perception of my followers/supporters

Aside from Koro, I don’t know if anyone has seriously threatened or harassed her. Her followers comment on my posts, my followers only comment when she brings up the drama or whines about it. She insults my supporters when they don’t agree with her and act like they’re a bunch of immature brats who are wrong while she’s the high and mighty mature one seeing through non-existent lies. I’m used to her making fun of me, but I’m sick and tired of her insulting people who have nothing to do with the drama just because they don’t agree with her. Like, seriously? You call everyone immature and stupid yet you’re the one insulting people non-stop just because they realize how ridiculous and childish you’re acting. That’s why “childish” has become a popular adjective for you, ang0. BECAUSE YOU’RE BEING CHILDISH. CONSTANTLY. You get pissy, insult others and put people down but whine and cry the next minute because you constantly like to play the victim. Speaking of which...

[10] the victim card

I have absolutely no idea what ang0 goes through in real life, but there is no excuse for how she’s behaved during this drama AT ALL. Ange constantly defames her own artwork, calling it shit, calling it every bad name in the book, but doesn’t hesitate for a minute to gatekeep her style as if it was the best thing in the world. She says it’s because she “worked her ass off” and doesn’t want people just stealing her hard work. Okay, but you do realize that other people put just as much work into their own art, no matter if it looks like yours or not, right? She demands that people change their style to stop looking like hers, acting as if that can be done in a matter of minutes, because people having similar styles makes her uncomfortable. Well, surprise motherfucker- welcome to the internet. No one is original and everyone is original at the same time. People are bound to come up with similar ideas and you’re just going to have to deal with it. But despite the similarities, people are still original in their own right. If you believe that people can change a style so easily, why not just change your OWN style? Because you worked your ass off? Well, THEY WORKED THEIR ASS OFF TOO. So don’t act like you’re the only one who’s put effort into their craft. Art is hard, and that applies to EVERYONE- even professionals.

You blame me and other “copycats” for all your problems, blaming us for worsening your depression, ruining your passion for art- when you’re the only one who does this to yourself. Yes, there have been genuine art thieves in your life, and people who have stolen your art- but what I’m talking about are the people like me who DON’T steal your art or are merely inspired by you. People who say “you should be happy they’re inspired!” aren’t saying “you should be happy they’re copying!”. They’re saying that you should be glad that your work is so inspiring that people create their own unique ideas based off your own. Inspiration doesn’t require credit unless they’re purposefully taking a massive part of the original. But being inspired by a hair style or even a pose isn’t stealing. It’s inspiration, that’s it. I’m not inspired by you at all, but I can at least appreciate your art- even if you think I’m just being fake.

[11] ang0mang0′s history and why this shit doesn’t even make sense

Ange has said publicly and to me in detail about how she’s been accused of the same “art style theft” in the past. From what I’ve gathered or heard, people used to accuse her of copying a popular artist called myly14 who’s Sonic art is pretty much everywhere. Whether it be in edits, MVs or whatever else. Looking at her old art when she went under the name sonicfan799, her art does look similar to myly’s, but ang0 insisted that she didn’t copy myly and didn’t even know who she was. She legit said “it’s not my fault my art looks like someone else’s”, so basically- it was coincidence. She said she changed her art style because she “isn’t an asshole and didn’t want to make the other artist uncomfortable”, even though art style theft isn’t a thing and no one needs to be forced out of a style just because someone else already draws that way. I have no idea what myly’s stance on that situation was, but the fact that it happened just proves how stupid her current claims are.

Ange says that her style is “too complex” to be coincidentally similar to someone else’s, even though the fact that it’s happened 30 times (according to her) just proves that no, ang0, no it fucking isn’t. Your style isn’t complicated at all. Detailed sure, but no style is too complicated to be similar to another’s. Being complex doesn’t make something any less likely to be identical to another complex style.If you didn’t copy myly14 in the past, what right do you have to accuse me of the same damn thing? If I really am copying you, then you have to admit to copying myly, because you can’t just lie about your past and then shit on me for doing the same thing. So it’s either you stop this nonsense or you drag this drama down with you to your grave and admit you copied myly14.

Another thing, myly14 didn’t even have a “simple” style. The fact that her art was almost instantly recognizable and popular meant that she had a signature style that stood out. Yes, she used a lot of the original Sonic style’s anatomy, but her stylization of said anatomy, her shading and the way she composed her pieces gave her a signature style. The most stylized thing I could see was how she drew muzzles, and guess who drew muzzles in a similar way as well? You did. People saw how your way of drawing faces and some parts of the body and thought it looked liked myly’s. The similarities in your anatomy, and not your shading or colouring, was what made people think you copied her. That exact same thing is happening between me and you. My shading, colouring and composition is entirely different from yours, but some parts of the anatomy are similar.

If you really didn’t copy myly14, you have absolutely no. fucking. excuse. to accuse me of the EXACT. SAME. SHIT. that happened to you.

You never needed or deserved to be pressured out of your old style just because people thought it looked similar to someone else’s, and that’s why I refuse to change my style now. Because it isn’t. fucking. fair. To ANYONE.

[12] how I feel (this is copied over from my DeviantART)

At this point I've grown used to what she has to say, but it still hurts. She thinks that I'm some kind of cartoon villain maniacally laughing behind a computer screen every time I post something because she's so deep into her belief that I really copy everything she draws and that nothing I've never posted has any true effort put into it. She genuinely believes she owns all my art and that I devote my entire gallery into recreating her image or some crazy shit like that. It sounds really dumb, but from what I've read from her poorly constructed comments and rants, that's basically what she believes.

She thinks I don't care at all about how all this affects her or anyone at all, but I do. It doesn't just hurt me in the sense that she makes me feel awful with all her insults, but I just feel so bad for her. I feel guilty in the sense that I couldn't do anything at all to help her, not that "shes prolly feeling guilty and made that april fools joke to let out some guilt!!". (If you don’t know, on April Fools Day, I changed my Instagram bio to say “clown” and call myself “the ultimate copycat” as a joke.) That was a really stupid reaction from her by the way... who the hell comes up with that? Now that she's going away for a month, I feel even worse because all I wanted to do was try to make her come to her senses and end this mess. I thought I could talk some sense into her- that didn't work. Her delusions are so strong, she's like a brick wall. I thought I could ignore the drama- that didn't work. She "clowns" and talks about it so annoyingly often. Not to mention people do things on their own to stir shit up. I thought I could support her regardless and maybe try making her feel better about her art- that didn't work. She thinks I'm fake and that everything I say is a lie. Because of me, she probably doesn't believe other people too- and that makes me feel even more terrible.

No matter what I do, I'm automatically the villain and she's the tortured, helpless artist that everyone is against because "everyone is dumb, supporting a copycat" and she's just "used to it, because she's dealt with so much shit already!". It's so ridiculous. If she would just try to actually better herself or the situation, she wouldn't feel so horrible all the time. Like... for god's sake, she relied on a video game to make her happy- that's not healthy, and just like I suspected, it didn't fucking work.

more of how I feel

Because of ang0, I just feel like garbage. My self esteem and confidence in my art was already low. Thanks to her, I don’t feel original (or as original) anymore- and I’m afraid to show many of my new or old ideas because she or her whiteknight pin_kpeach may spring out and say “copycat! stolen! you’re not original!” and a plethora of other insults. I can barely sketch or draw Sonic content without panicking and feeling worthless because all I have is her words and her opinions stuck in my head. She blames me for her demotivation and shit like that when she’s done the same thing to me. She thinks I don’t care about her or her art, when I do, but when I say that, she calls me fake. In reality, ang0 couldn’t give a damn about me and I’m pretty sure she’d be happy if I were dead. She has said before that she doesn’t care if I killed myself soo... there’s that. Anyway lemme not drag my feelings out too long, I just thought I’d say it to anyone willing to listen since her immediate response would’ve been “fake, liar” etc, etc. I really don’t want anyone to feel bad for me or anything like that, I just want people to listen and understand. That’s all.

a final note

I’m really thankful- like, REALLY thankful- for everyone who’s been on my side throughout this. I don’t like picking sides, and I’d hate to make people do so, but there doesn’t seem to be any in between to this at all. It’s either you believe I’m copying her or you don’t. Most people don’t- thank goodness for that- but some do. And there’s nothing I can do about it. At this point, whatever man.

Please please PLEASE do not harass ang0. Don’t threaten her, don’t insult her, don’t do anything rash or fucking illegal. It’s all fair game if you want to POLITELY SPEAK to her, or try to start a discussion, but please don’t do anything stupid. And especially don’t do things in my name. If you want to debate with me or her, do research first- don’t just jump to conclusions or make assumptions.If you want nothing to do with this drama, then simply don’t say anything- just be aware of what’s going on, that’s all I ask. So nobody gets the wrong idea on either side.

Sorry for this being so long, I think I’m done for now.

Thank you if you read the whole thing.

[9.4.2020]

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midshipmank · 4 years

Text

i wanted LWJ with a motorcycle & somehow ended up with this librarian!LWJ & art student!WWX au

LWJ is a librarian at a public library

WWX met LWJ when he returned some books 3 months late

LWJ looked at him all judgy like “these are 3 months late,” & WWX promptly became obsessed

WWX is now a much more responsible library user, mostly because he’s there all the time

but listen he’s not great at focusing in the library, that’s why he doesn’t even use the one on campus. so now he’s his usual amount of restless + distracted by LWJ

trying to figure out how to make a move

meanwhile LWJ is just like “do not throw crumpled pieces of paper through the air”

some of those crumpled pieces of paper are failed sketches of LWJ

one day WWX stays all the way to closing because LWJ PRETTY OKAY? also he has an art theory paper due pls don’t talk to him about it

so anyway he’s there when the library is closing & LWJ is like “leave”

so he goes :((( but he’s so late LWJ practically follows him out

which

is when WWX discovers that that pretty white & blue motorcycle that’s always parked out front?

that’s Lan Wangji’s

he absolutely loses his mind

all of his friends know about his ridiculous librarian crush by now & they all make fun of him for it

but anyway, the poor boy has it bad

he’s like “A-Cheng, you don’t understand, he could step on me & i’d thank him. actually i think i need him to step on me.”

JC is like “i did Not want to know that”

meanwhile WWX is bemoaning the fact that he ever became a responsible library user

“how am i supposed to interact with him. i can’t return books late anymore bc i’m always there! what would my excuse be? & he’s already explained how to use their database to me 3 times, i can’t keep looking this dumb”

JYL is very gently like “maybe just ask him out?”

“but he doesn’t like me! i committed library crimes! i have to get him to like me first!”

then WWX sees a flyer in the lobby asking for volunteers. there’s gonna be an event in the kids section! for some special reading day! who tf knows, WWX doesn’t care, the point is, he’s good with kids. that would probably be appealing to LWJ. right? right? WWX really doesn’t know. LWJ is so hard to read. on the one hand, he’s the most tight-laced & responsible person WWX has ever met. on the other, he has a very sexy motorcycle. WWX doesn’t know what to do with that

but okay he has a plan

he calls up WQ & goes “can i borrow A-Yuan”

he already babysits A-Yuan every week, so it’s not that weird right?

WQ is like “i stg WWX if you are going to use A-Yuan to attract hot guys like in that movie with the people who love dogs....”

& WWX is like “i would never use A-Yuan like a dog! WQ do you even know me!”

he gets A-Yuan, barely

anyway, he gets to the library ready to read to a bunch of kids & gets side-eyed by a lot of parents, but he still has fun!!

LWJ is, unfortunately, not the librarian supervising the event, but he is reshelving when WWX is off reading duty & A-Yuan gets the zoomies

ie, zooms right into LWJ’s legs

LWJ is, surprisingly, good with kids. WWX may need to marry him. he somehow manages not to make a complete fool of himself after this revelation

in fact, after this interaction, WWX thinks he may actually have scored some points with LWJ. he’s elated

he’s building all these elaborate future schemes in his head when suddenly he gets a call from Auntie Yu

she wants to know why his grade in his art theory class has plummeted.

oh right. that class. that class that’s taught by that professor who hates him & that he honestly can’t understand a word of & honestly he hates art theory, he’s good at art, why does he have to take theory too?

Auntie Yu lets him know in no uncertain terms that if he doesn’t improve his grades by the end of the semester, she will stop supporting him—it’s bad enough that they let him go to art school after he flunked out of his business degree anyway

so—fuck. fuck.

WWX throws himself into the redo paper he manages to beg off LQR. he has 3 days & he’s gonna make them count

the first day goes well, if by well you mean that he raids the art section of the library & works himself until closing & tries desperately not to look like he’s dying in front of LWJ

day 2 goes........similarly, except he falls asleep at his desk & doesn’t wake up until LWJ tells him the library is closing, which? wtf? LWJ usually wakes him up when he falls asleep in the library. WWX has been asleep for hours.

& also he looks like a wreck, which is not cute

he flees from the library only to find that the bus is going..... going......... gone

fuck. he doesn’t have a car.

he’s staring down the road after the bus, trying to figure out which friend with a car is available for him to call when he hears someone say “Wei Ying?” behind him

it’s Lan Zhan.

how mortifying.

he tries to laugh off his situation, but LWJ gets this set expression on his face & says, “i will give you a ride home”

& WWX is like kinda definitely freaking out because this was not how his first ride on LWJ’s sexy motorcycle was supposed to go. WWX had a plan. he was supposed to be flirtatious & ask LWJ about his bike & then LWJ would offer to give WWX a ride & they’d go all around the scenic parts of the city & when they stopped WWX would be all flustered & breathless & he’d wobble getting off the bike & maybe fall into LWJ & maybe—

okay so his plan was more like a daydream, but at the very least, he wasn’t supposed to look like he’d spent the last 48hrs out of the sun, drinking unhealthy amounts of shitty coffee, wearing a ratty hoodie & art-grimed jeans. like, they’re not even grimey in a cute way

but LWJ is insistent & WWX is weak, so somehow he ends up on the back of the bike wearing LWJ’s helmet with LWJ telling him to hold on tight

he’s half-convinced he’s fallen asleep on the bus stop bench & is dreaming the whole thing

but soon enough, it’s over & they’re stopped outside of WWX’s shitty student accommodations

he gets off & is trying to awkwardly thank LWJ when LWJ says, “you’ve seemed upset these past 2 days”

“ahaha, yeah, i’m just writing a paper”

“for an art theory class?”

WWX is like ????? but then he remembers that LWJ knows what books he checks out

“yeah. it’s a redo actually. professor Lan hates me.” he forces a laugh. why did he say that. being hated by a professor is not cute, especially not to sexy librarian LWJ.

“my uncle has high expectations,” LWJ says.

WWX brain short circuits.

“your uncle???” shit shit shit Lan Qiren is LWJ’s uncle! LWJ’s uncle hates him! he has no chance now!

“mn.”

WWX wants to die

LWJ looks considering, then says, “it is my day off tomorrow. if you would like, i can help you with the paper.”

WWX is already the least cute, most pathetic version of himself he’s ever been in his life. he says yes.

so they meet up at the library the next day & WWX apologizes profusely for making LWJ come into work when it’s his day off. he promises LWJ endless free coffee from the coffeeshop he works at (even if he has to pay for it himself—he doesn’t tell LWJ that part).

LWJ is way too nice to him & also manages to explain this school of art theory in a way that?? sort of?? makes sense?? though not in a way that makes WWX like it. but LWJ seems neutral about it, so at least he’s not trying to get WWX to agree with it.

but anyway, WWX manages to pull a passable paper together & in the process LWJ reveals that he’s noticed WWX sketching in the library a lot more than WWX realized, and that he likes WWX’s art.

WWX is lightheaded

he stares at LWJ for a while & LWJ looks at him & says, “Wei Ying. you should be typing.”

WWX gets the paper done by 5pm somehow. somehow! he sends it off to LQR with a groan of relief. he’s so tired his bones are aching, but he looks over at LWJ, art theory & citation king, who of course always looks perfect & beautiful, & goes, “i could kiss you.”

instead of “i don’t know how i’m ever going to thank you for this,” which is what he thought he was gonna say

LWJ’s eyes widen slightly & his ears go red. WWX wants to smack himself in the face. he wants to eat his words. he wants to crawl into a cramped dark place like a disgusting little mole & never see the sun again.

then LWJ says, “have dinner with me first.”

WWX gapes at him. LWJ looks back, ears still red but eyes steady.

“okay,” WWX squeaks.

they go to dinner. WWX still feels like trash, but they end up having a rousing discussion about art & WWX learns all about when LWJ studied art history in undergrad & how he actually doesn’t like the kind of theory his uncle teaches (“but you’re too good to ever tell him that,” WWX teases. “....most of the time.” WWX laughs in delight.)

LWJ reveals that he brought an extra helmet today, in case WWX needed a ride again. WWX is embarrassed & pleased & wants to marry LWJ again. feeling foolish, he leans into LWJ flirtatiously & suggests they go for a ride—just for the view. LWJ looks at him so long his knees turn to jelly. then LWJ says, “mn.”

they make out on some scenic ridge somewhere

the end!

other things about this au:

WWX does digital painting mostly, his ideal job is illustration/comics; he has a instagram/patreon he uses for art commissions (some of which are pornographic—LWJ catches him sketching in the library one day, early in this tableau. it does not go well.)

his instagram/patreon is mostly anonymous. it’s not that he minds people knowing he draws explicit stuff sometimes, it’s that he doesn’t want Auntie Yu to find out

he draws LWJ a lot

not explicitly

(at least not until he’s got a life model and LWJ’s consent)

he’s not at the library 24/7. he has a coffeeshop job, classes, studio time for non-digital art, A-Yuan, and friends. but he’s at the library a lot.

this is undergrad for WWX, but he’s non-trad. he flunked out of a soul-sucking business degree in his first go at undergrad & was on pretty shaky ground with the Jiang family for a while. then he sold some of his art & Auntie Yu said they would support him through art school if it was the only thing he was good at. kinda stung, but at least he doesn’t have to pay tuition.

he’s desperate to prove he can make it as an artist

when anyone asks LWJ about his bike, he says he got it because it allows him to weave around traffic. yes, there’s more to it than that, but no he won’t go into it. (this entire au formed because i found out WYB rides motorcycles professionally & went, “wow that’s hot.” we have no thoughts here.)

WWX did not have to try to make LWJ like him. LWJ liked him. & while WWX might not have gotten his ideal first bike ride, you better believe LWJ got his. he daydreams about scooping WWX onto his bike & riding off into the sunset

#posting as a bullet point fic bc while i wanna write it as a real oneshot i have other things i need to do & i think it works like this too #mdzs fic #mdzs #cql #wangxian #The Untamed #fanfic #my writing #idk what to tag it's literally been 4yrs since i posted fanfic here #my fanfic #author assumes art theory works similarly to lit theory in that some is great and some is bs #author clearly grew up in the les mis fandom #also has anyone read juliet takes a breath?

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revasser-destiny · 4 years

Note

Hello I am your lovely positive Mun anon! This is for you mun! I dare you to show which muns you love like friends or family! You can list as many people you love but for every one person you list, you must say what you feel about that mun.

@idv-ask-azrael ❥ You always make me smile and laugh with Azzy, or just with your amazing personality! I know I always worry you when I consume sweets (pls forgive me, mama), but I do love you very much as a mother figure. You're just the sweetest cupcake I met so far, and I hope everything goes well for you. Ily! ♡

@theunconcernedembalmer ❥Another mama figure I love and cherish. Her artsyle is a lovely dreamscape to escape into when you want to indulge in the world of her muses! She is very kind and smart (dont you dare say no, or give me the no u card), and I look up to her like a butterfly shaped cloud in the sky. Also CLLLLLLAUUUUDDDDEEEEE AAAAAAAAAAA

@ask-idv-embalmer ❥Papasop is a beautiful ray of stardust at night, who listens to you and tries to make you laugh. I love them very much, and I would give them a homemade cake in shape of a heart. Their art is like looking at a colorful meadow of personalities and gold itself in my opinion! They also know my weakness for dad jokes so that's bonus there ♡

@cezlovesart ❥SISTER! I really love Cezzu to the point she is family to me. If I could, I would happily give her my munies and cookies without hesitation. 100% would cuddle and boop this precious angel of a sibling ♡

@idv-mike-morton ❥CLOWN MUMMMMMMM! I remember the day I made a mistake and became your child. I still don't regret it, haha! You are the funniest and loveliest person I met so far, a goddess in my eyes if I may be honest. You always know how to make me laugh and smile, even make the days seem brighter than before. I hope everything goes well for you, and if not, I'll be praying that it'll get better! ♡

@ask-the-idv-magus IZUMUMMMM! She is the chaotically beautiful gf of my clown mum, and I cherish her like the sun (no pun intended) itself. She also knows how to make me laugh, and I enjoy talking with her about aus and story ideas in vc. I compare her to the gentle rain in spring, soothing and understanding, but also very beautiful and sweet as the flowers curl up in wonder.

@seer-is-here ❥Fellow Detective StalkerGay, aka Gayboi Starboi. She is the gayest owl person I know, and she's really funny that I tend to giggle a lot, especially in rank. Jaff is an uplifting angel to me, and she's so kind that often I cry.

@identityvarchives ❥We may have just met, but let me tell you are such a beautiful diamond in the gallery of AUs and storytelling. I look up to you a lot, but I also wish the best to come your way, Alice. Ily! ♡

@http-idv ❥Same with the lovely Alice here, I also look up to you as an inspiration. You're such a gorgeous emerald in the meadow of writing scenarios, and telling the story of your muse. Much love! ♡

@ask-prospector-v ❥BROSIS! *inhales* YOU ARE SUCH A PRECIOUS GREMLIN TWIN THAT I WOULD SACRIFICE EVERYTHING I HAVE SO YOU CAN BE SMILING AND HABBY! YOU MAKE ME LAUGH AND GO UWU, GOD ILY SO MUCH! QAQ♡

@flowwerpot ❥You always take my kokoro with your Flower AU, and for that, I love you. In all seriousness, their Flower AU is like a beautifully made cake decorated as the blossoming dawn. They're just the sweetest person I've met, and I am honored to even be called their child. Flower mama is OP ♡

@nootnotno ❥NOOT, ILY SO MUCH THAT I WANNA CUDDLE WITH YOU ALL DAY, NO HOMO! You're such a solicitous angel, and I'm so happy to have met you in my life. Thank you for being my friend, and I hope you continue being such a sweetheart penguin! ♡

@ask-victor-grantzcampbell ❥Kira Kuro is just,,,, an angel sent from the heavens and I cherish them plenty. Their artstyle and storytelling with Victor has me intrigued and wanting for more. They're such a sweetheart that I wonder sometimes that if meeting them was a wonderful dream.

@ask-thepuppeteer-idv ❥D,,,DIA! She has taken my kokoro many times as well, but I love her very much that I let it happen. Dia is a darling to have around, and an amazing friend to talk with. She makes me smile with her presence and ocs, even if I do cry when angst comes over at times (SOBBING NOISES). I would 100% hold her hand and call her the Queen of Beautiful Dahlias ♡

@idv-lunar-shine ❥Hello, may I hug the mun and the muses (if I can without dying) please? The AU with Alice and Lucie is a wondrous gem to view over and over again that it makes me cry often. The dark parts mixed with light moments is a beautiful bouquet to be shared with people who are interested, and I feel blessed being one of them. If I could, I would love to give yumi a gift but sadly like always, Im a shy birb

@theincessantmercenary ❥First off, I like to mention that I didn't expect a Naib to come in my inbox and make me cry two rivers for an hour. Second, Lucie is a delightful rose in spring and no one can change my mind whatsoever. Their version of Naib is an engaging performance to watch alongside with Alice's Eli and yumi's lunar shrine (how do i mention everyone without breaking the keyboard), and I can't wait to see more. Also Marpesia is precious and I will die for her, thanks for coming to my TedTalk 😔

@ask-idv-conartist ❥A beautiful person with an amazing muse and artstyle. Their introduction is just perfection, and I often reread it because holy shit, it's just exceptionally good. I love the amount of work and care put into Charlie (100% would smooch on forehead, and hold hands with), his story

@ask-cesarandamelia-idvoc ❥Okami is a talented person whose muses are on my must protecc list. They're just the most amiable person I know, and they deserve much love for their creativity. They've also made me cry because of their art and writing to which I say please give me back my heart pls

@ask-magnetboi-nortnort ❥Have I mention that your Norton is the funniest bastard I have ever met so far? Now you know how much I love your blog, interpretation of Norton, and lovely you! Please don't hesitate to take a break once, and take care of yourself! Love you, Cousin Nyeli! ♡

@stitchedstatic ❥Mama Static is an affable rose in the meadow, and I love her very much! Her storytelling is a wonderful experience as more pieces are revealed from the characters. I'm not just talking about Alec and Nikola (you can obviously infer that I love the two), it's also her reverse characters and Clarity that make me go doki doki about everything. Mama Static, I would give you all of my donut cakes without hesitation and carry you to victory ♡

@ask-idvgardener ❥Mama Gwitchy is a wonderful mama, and I love their protrayal of dear Gardener. I would protect them with all of my life because they deserve the best. 100% would smile at just their presence alone ♡

@idv-missionary ❥Hi, Mama Fluff! I would like to tell you that you are the most loveliest morning glory I have ever met, and I wish that happiness will come your way when you need it. Love you! ♡

@ask-vampire-hunter-naib ❥Woosh come back from the war, jk. I love your interpretation of a vampire hunter Naib (including the others as well~)! Makes me want to care him, but also punch him at the same time fhdhdhdh. Please know that you are a beloved jewel in my heart, and I hope that everything blooms better for you! ♡

@ask-chloenair ❥Briar, we need to talk about how importantly beautiful you are. The representation of your muses is beautifully done, and their backstories makes me want to do a chef kiss every time. Your artstyle is just the perfect dessert to go along with the main dish, and I honestly can't wait for more of your story to come soon. I love you, Briar! ♡

@asimplecherry ❥Ah yes, the Angst Demon. Queen of said subject herself. My inspiration for darker writings and art itself. She is also a singing queen, and that opinion cannot be changed. Her muses are blast to have around, especially gremlin Emma who thonks people in the face. I just love Cherry's work so far, and I pray that everything goes well for her.

@idv-askclaudedesaulnier ❥Number one criminal who has stolen my kokoro so many times I've lost count. Their version of Claude is a darker, yet mystifying fairytale - which I fell in love with and thus my love for Claude began. Their artstyle is a mesmerizing star at night that carries on a different story in each of their blogs. And Bee, you are the most marvelous person I met so far, and I love you for being you. Take care of yourself, okay? Love you ♡

@peachy-teacakes ❥Dal here is my wise big sister who can also be dumb at the same time. Doesn't stop me from loving her because of her golden heart. Did I mention that she's a very beautiful being on this planet to the point that I believe she is a Queen? 😔♡

@ask-sculptor ❥My egg sister who apparently thinks that Wick is a, um.... not going to continue that because I know a couple will be screaming soon after i post this (XD). Winter is a beloved snowflake (no pun intended) and she is chaotically funny at the same time. Charlie Gayboi is my tol big bro, and you cant change my mind. ♡

@hatsirsir ❥BIG BROTHER! CAN I JUST SAY I APPRECIATE YOUR EXISTENCE EVERYDAY BECAUSE YOU ARE THE SWEETEST AND MOST CONSIDERATE PERSON I HAVE EVER MET! I CANT DIE FOR YOU, BUT I WILL HAPPILY COMPLIMENT WITHOUT HESITATION! YOU MAKE ME SMILE AND CRY HAPPY TEARS EVERYDAY WITH YOUR LOVING COMMENTS! YOUR CHARACTERS MAKE ME SOFT (except for obvious rats) AND PUT ME IN A CUDDLY MOOD. ILY HAT QAQ! ♡

#this took me about 7 hours finish dhdhdh #look I want to compliment every living being that is close to me qwq #i love everyone on this post and im beginning to cherish more people #*gently sends hugs and kisses*#nini is sobbing

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percabeth4life · 4 years

Text

The Crossroads of Destiny

First Chapter || Previous Chapter || Next Chapter || AO3

I moved into my dorm.

Setting it up was fun.

My roommate hasn’t arrived yet, so I picked the side by the window and started setting up.

I put my bedding on the bed (blue of course), my clothes in the dresser (his school ones and his nice clothes from Triton), my rainbow stone and star globe on the table by the bed, my books on the shelf, I put the candy my mom gave me in the drawer, put my collection of stuff from the sea (assorted gifts from my mer friends and some cool shells and coral pieces I like) on the shelves, and finally set up the fish tank for the human fish I’m still trying to turn back human.

The fishes name is Carl, which is really boring but…

I also put my copies of Avatar on the shelf, and small amount of memorabilia around the room. I’ve heard rumors of a sequel, how fun!

I frowned, studying my side of the room. I don’t think I’m missing anything…

Other than Triton and my mer friends…

Ugh, I hate boarding school already.

I sulked but moved to shove my notebooks on the shelf too.

Classes don’t start for a few days, so I suppose I could spend the next few days looking around the campus. Hopefully this year there wouldn’t be any… incidents.

I grabbed my ocarina and my music book and settled on the bed to practice.

I really like the ocarina, it makes such nice tunes, and it’s made from a really dense coral, it’s brilliant.

I began the warm up tunes, carefully running through the notes, furrowing my brow in concentration.

I’m going to get amazing at this. Triton said that if I get good enough at it by the winter solstice then he’d give me the next book on the Siren’s Song! Then I’ll get to practice actually using the Siren’s Song, using the ocarina of course. Triton said I wasn’t to try it with just my voice until Triton cleared him.

That’s fine though, I’m was still excited.

I started playing one of the simple tunes to start.

Carefully placing my fingers and following my memory of practicing this song until it was perfect.

It was one of the most basic, but I still like it. It’s soothing to practice.

I finished that song and turned to the next one.

I’ve only mastered the first two, I can do those two without looking at the instructions at this point. I’m also pretty good at the third one and alright at the fourth. I can play through the fifth song if I really focus hard.

I haven’t gotten around to trying the sixth yet.

I reached the fourth song in my play throughs. I started playing it for the second time to fix a note I keep messing up but paused when the door opened.

I looked up to see a boy with pasty skin, curly red/brown hair, and a rainbow tie-dye shirt.

“Uh, hi?”

I nodded in greeting, “Hi, are you my roommate?”

“Yeah! Or well,” the boy glanced at the paper in his hands, “You are… Percy, right? Hang on let me check the room number again, this is- Yeah okay, I think you’re my roommate!”

I offered a smile, following the lessons Triton drilled into me, “I’m Percy Jackson, glad to be roommates. What’s your name?”

“I’m Grover, nice to meet you!”

OO OO OO OO OO OO OO OO

Grover’s side of the room was nice, he had some books, a few plants, his school supplies of course. It didn’t have the sparklines of my side, what with my Rainbow Stone and Starglobe, but it was nice.

I noticed Grover giving Carl some odd looks when Carl commented on how boring Grover’s side was, or how he needed better clothes, or how he was hungry ‘Percy feed me’.

I of course fed him, I’d hate to be locked up like Carl. Least I can do is make it comfortable.

Grover blinked slowly and stared more confused.

It was almost like he could hear Carl.

…

Please say I’m not rooming with another mythological being that wants me dead.

…

Nope, not dealing with that today.

I grabbed my ocarina and music book and told Grover I was going outside to play.

OO OO OO OO OO OO OO OO

Grover wasn’t bad, he went with me to explore the campus despite the limp he had.

I made sure to keep my walking slow, I don’t want to strain Grover. La’akea had a permanently injured tail so had to use currents to help her move and while she’s pretty quick now, Grover couldn’t do the same with land.

We found where all our classes would be first, then found the nearby bathrooms and water fountains. Then we went to find the library, we already knew where the cafeteria was thanks to needing food.

We only ended up exploring the inside today (mainly because I got distracted in the mythology section of the library, it had a few books in ancient Greek, which, while not as easy as Halmaheran language, is still easier than English).

The next day we explored the grounds. I like the fountains I could see around the grounds, they’re pretty, and the water sparkles in the light.

We met a few other students, I did his best to smile and act like Triton taught me, it seemed to work better on these kids than the ones from his other schools.

But befriending Grover already seemed to be getting negative views.

I resisted the urge to glare at the student I heard mutter something insulting about Grover. Did they have no manners for disabilities? Triton would kick their butts if he heard it. But Triton would also lecture me if I lost my temper on the first day.

“Ha, look at the cripple, I don’t know why schools let those people in, don’t they want to keep appearances up? Having a loser like that here just ruins the schools rep.”

I smiled sweetly at the boy, “Well you would know if someone should be kicked out for appearances, wouldn’t you?” I gave the boy a brief look over, making my meaning as clear as possible, then turned and walked away.

I walked away with my head held high, Grover following me.

“You didn’t have to do that. But thanks man.”

I huffed, “he was rude, you didn’t deserve that. Just cause you have a disability doesn’t mean he gets free range to insult you!”

Grover grinned, “thanks again”

OO OO OO OO OO OO OO OO

Classes started again, they were boring.

I covered the math with Triton, and as long as I wrote in Halmaheran it was easy. Of course, then I have to go back and translate to dumb Arabic numerals but…

Geography was as annoying as ever, land geography was so boring!

I do enjoy Latin, I’m not bad at it I don’t think. We’ve only just started the basics of it, learning some word meanings and not yet at conjugating, but I don’t think I’ll struggle too much if it stays this easy.

Honestly my biggest trouble will probably be grammar in that class.

And of course, in English class.

I hate English class.

They also have art which I enjoy. I would prefer music, so I can practice my ocinara, but it is fun to make things. I figure I can give what I make to Triton or mom.

Science is dumb though.

OO OO OO OO OO OO OO OO

Carl is seventy percent sure that Grover can understand him, so I have to be careful not to reveal I can also understand my fish.

OO OO OO OO OO OO OO OO

So, there are clubs, Grover was nervous to sign up for them, and I’ve never signed up for a club before.

But Triton would probably encourage it, so I decided to look through the clubs to see.

I shouldn’t do swimming, if Grover is a Mythological being than that would give me away real quick.

I decided that model UN should be good, it will let me practice my “princely” stuff, since I won’t have Triton bugging me about it.

And… ooh, the music club. That would give me more opportunities to practice my ocarina!

I couldn’t help but hum happily, I can practice my ocarina, and I can do some fancy talking (that will make Triton happy probably) so it works out!

“What are you going to do Grover?”

“Uh, I’m not sure, what about you?”

I grinned, “Model UN and music club!”

“Oh well, those sound good, maybe I’ll join them too?”

“Do you know an instrument? Or are you going to learn one in the club?”

“Er… I play the reedpipes?”

“Oh cool!” I bounced on my toes, “I’ve never played the reedpipes before, do they sound nice? Are they hard to play? What songs do you know?”

“Uh- they’re nice, I’m not that good yet, they’re kinda hard to play, and I know a few calming songs.”

“That’s cool, let’s go sign up!”

I planted myself beside Grover and tried to copy Triton’s ‘I will end you’ smile that he used at the events, pointing the smile at the jerk that tried to cut Grover in line.

“Whatever,” The guy grumbled, stomping back and kicking Grover’s crutch on the way.

I fought really hard to keep my smile in place as I helped Grover steady himself.

“I’m fine,” Grover muttered.

“He’s a jerk,” I grumbled back.

OO OO OO OO OO OO OO OO

We went to the first club meeting of Model UN. It went fine, they just introduced what we’d be doing in the club this year.

It was kinda boring.

The first meeting of music was more fun though.

First everyone picked their instrument, then the teacher had all of us that already knew how to play our instrument demonstrate some.

I played the first song I know on the ocarina, I have it memorized so I looked good when I did it.

Grover played the reedpipes, I did my best not to show that my ears hurt.

Maybe Grover could use a little more practice… just a little…

OO OO OO OO OO OO OO OO

The Latin teacher disappeared?

Like, he was there one day, then a new teacher in a wheelchair appeared.

My eyes narrowed on the wheelchair.

It gives me the same feeling that some of Triton’s gifts give me. That’s no ordinary wheelchair.

OO OO OO OO OO OO OO OO

I pulled my Rainbow Stone out when Grover was away for a bit.

I tossed in a drachma resisting the urge to bounce, “Oh Iris, goddess of the rainbow, please accept my offering and show me Triton, where ever he is.”

I grinned when Triton appeared.

I’ve called Triton a few times before and I recognized the backdrop as Triton’s room.

“Percy.”

“Triton! How are you?”

We talked for a while, just trading stories.

I told him about model UN and music club, Triton was pleased.

Triton told me about some of his duties, and how annoying the fish were now that I’m not there anymore. Apparently, they’ve grown fond of me.

I finally started explaining my suspicions.

I explained Grover being able to understand Carl and explained the teacher with the wheelchair that was definitely enchanted.

Triton nodded, his gaze serious.

“It doesn’t sound like a harmful being but keep an eye out. Update me when you can but be careful, if I’m right this Grover is likely empathic, and you should keep your emotions in check around him.

I nodded, what mythological being was empathic?

Oh well, Triton would tell me if it was important.

OO OO OO OO OO OO OO OO

Welp, apparently there was a robbery right near the school. The person had a gun, so all the students were locked in the classrooms.

I was in Latin when the announcement came. Mr. Brunner had all of us students put the desks in front of the door, then wedged some of his old shields in the way too.

I don’t know if they’ll help at all, but I guess it’s better than nothing.

Mr. Brunner quietly told us stories about the rise of Rome until the announcement came that it was safe to leave again.

That was scary, hopefully nothing else like that happens again.

I really want this year to be calmer.

OO OO OO OO OO OO OO OO

Apparently, a computer in the library overheated, and promptly blew up.

I didn’t know that was possible but now we’re were standing outside in the rain waiting for the fire department to clear everything.

Or everyone else was, I was trying one of Katara’s tricks, the rain was sliding away just above me!

This year was going great so far, hopefully it was just these things and nothing else…

I purposefully ignored Nancy mumbling that it’s a shame Grover made it out.

I also ignored the way that the rain around her became just a little colder, just a little harder, just a little more like sleet than rain.

That was just a coincidence, I certainly didn’t do that, Triton wouldn’t have been happy.

OO OO OO OO OO OO OO OO

Music club was going great! I’ve now mastered the first six songs in my book and I’m practicing three more.

It’s so much fun!

The first ten were fairly short, after those it would start taking a lot longer to learn them.

But for now, I’m enjoying the simple songs.

Grover was slowly improving some too so that was good. I know that some students have been mocking his reedpipes behind his back, I usually have a snappy comeback if they do it in front of me, but it’s still hard on Grover.

OO OO OO OO OO OO OO OO

Model UN is going great, I get to watch Grover argue for environmental reforms. It’s delightful.

This club seems a whole lot more interesting now.

I ended up having to go against Grover, so I promptly channeled all the knowledge I have about the pollution in the ocean and rivers and started arguing for it (I don’t enjoy going against Grover, especially on this subject).

Of course, the students get switched around, and I’m easily able to reverse my argument, it’s the side I actually stand for anyways. I’ve been cleaning the rivers in Manhattan for a while, I know loads about the negative effects of pollution, at least in water environments.

Grover does not like arguing for pollution, that was nearly as fun to watch as him tearing others apart in the against pollution argument.

OO OO OO OO OO OO OO OO

I opened my eyes.

I was deep in the ocean, a faint red glow from underwater magma spots.

I stared, I’ve of course read about them in the books Triton has given me, but I’ve never seen them before. They weren’t in the territory that Triton would bring me too.

I turned around and gasped when I saw the palace in front of me.

It’s definitely not Poseidon’s palace.

A mermaid swam towards me, glowing in the same way that Triton did, her tail more flowy than any I’ve seen before and glittering blue and silver.

She opened her mouth, her head tilted.

I woke up.

OO OO OO OO OO OO OO OO

Apparently, a student claimed they saw a guy that matched the description of a criminal. So once again the school was emptied so the police could search the grounds.

On the bright side we all got a field trip to the aquarium.

On the down side we all got a field trip to the aquarium I got expelled from before.

Hopefully that guide didn’t work there anymore.

Grover and I ended up separate from the rest of the group, it was fun, they looked at this fish, I complimented their scales, and their swimming, and their coral. It was nice to talk to fish again.

Grover laughed at me for talking to the fish, but it was friendly.

I’ve never had a human friend before.

I supposed I still haven’t, but at least now I have a land-dwelling friend.

…

Hopefully.

OO OO OO OO OO OO OO OO

I’m doing alright in math, even though the teacher sucks.

English was going to end me though.

I have to write the papers in Halmaheran first, then in English, and of course I can’t read the stupid books because they’re in English.

I wish I had audio books for the class, but noooooo.

I’m pretty sure it’s illegal for them to not help me with my disabilities. But I don’t know much about land laws.

I should probably fix that.

OO OO OO OO OO OO OO OO

Latin is fun, even if I’m suspicious of the teacher, and I was making sure to tell Triton what I notice.

We’re were having a test today though. I can do the words, I’m great at remembering the meaning of the words, but the grammar was killing me.

I lost half my points on doing the grammar wrong.

It’s annoying.

OO OO OO OO OO OO OO OO

I moved towards the palace this time, it’s not like Poseidon’s palace, from what I’d seen from a distance (a large distance).

This one is dark, carved out of the side of the trench that I’ve now realized I’m in.

But it’s still lit up.

Lantern fish swim all over, some coming near me with their sharp teeth.

I’ve never been afraid of the beings of the sea though, so I didn’t flinch back. I made sure to complement their lights, I’m not sure they could hear me.

There’s also a sea serpent this time, it’s eye focused on me.

It’s massive, easily able to circle Poseidon’s palace at least three times over.

I decided respect was for the best, and quickly did the proper twist of my hand, even if I have legs and not my tails like I would prefer, this would still show the respect that the great serpent deserves.

I made it to the entrance and, after hesitating, pushed in.

I woke up.

OO OO OO OO OO OO OO OO

I just cannot catch a break.

Some student brought a cursed item to school.

I can feel it.

Everyone else is just convinced the school was haunted.

Carl thinks it’s funny. He would.

Grover is jumping at shadows and even more nervous than usual. I’m not worried though.

I’ll know when the cursed item gets close enough, I’m good at sensing that.

OO OO OO OO OO OO OO OO

It took three weeks, but I’ve finally found the cursed item.

A stupid book.

Everyone was baffled that the ghost vanished.

I just sighed and focused on rereading the chapter in one of the books Triton gave me on Purification.

It took me a week to do it, but at last the book is curse free.

I know have to sneak it back to the owner, ugh.

OO OO OO OO OO OO OO OO

I was standing at the edge of a deep pit. I can’t even begin to see the bottom.

A burning sensation edged my senses.

“How interesting, so faint yet there. It’s slowly getting clearer…”

I frowned, “Hello?”

A low chuckle filled the area, “Hello little Half-Blood.”

“Who are you?” I called, leaning over the edge.

“You may wish to step back little Half-Blood. A fall would be dangerous.”

“You didn’t say who you were.” I replied, but I did step back.

The being chuckled again, “I am-“

I woke up.

OO OO OO OO OO OO OO OO

I’m excited, field day is here!

I’m signed up for the tug-of-war, the water sponge, and one of the running events.

It’s fun, I won the water sponge by a landslide, and my team came in second for the tug-of-war. I did alright at the running, I’m certainly not the fastest, but I have decent stamina from all the time I’ve spent swimming and running from the river to my apartment.

I didn’t do the worst, so I suppose that’s good.

Field day is actually a lot of fun, even if Grover can’t participate.

It would’ve been perfect if the field hadn’t caught fire afterwards though.

I have no idea how that happened.

OO OO OO OO OO OO OO OO

I hummed as I read through one of the more advanced books on Purification magic, this chapter talked about how to infuse items with purifying energy to keep a room clean.

It was really interesting, when Grover was gone I’d try it out.

Carl’s happy about it too, he wants a stone infused with purifying energy in his tank.

I was beginning to wonder if Carl even wants to be turned back human again, Carl seems to like being a fish.

It’s weird.

OO OO OO OO OO OO OO OO

Grover and I are working on our speech for Model UN, we’re were arguing for environmental reform.

Shocking.

I’m pretty confident in our ability to do this. Grover is really well informed on land pollution, and I have first-hand experience with sea pollution.

I even managed to get Triton to tell me about dealing with oil spills and stuff to help!

We’re gonna kill it.

OO OO OO OO OO OO OO OO

I glared at the palace in front of me.

Am I gonna wake up the moment I get close again?

I just want to see what’s inside.

It’s strange though, only some of the fish and beings around seem to actually see me.

I sighed and started moving towards the palace again.

This time I got inside! I looked around in awe.

“Well, it appears I have an uninvited guest.”

I turned to see a merman with almost glowing blue hair, and sharp sea green eyes. His tail a deep green with flowy glowing blue on it.

It kinda reminds me of my tail, but his was greener and has specks of blue in the scales too. And it’s not quite as flowy.

The Merman studied me in turn, “And what is your name little Half-Blood?”

“I’m Percy-“

I woke up.

OO OO OO OO OO OO OO OO

I’m getting really annoyed this year.

Other years normally have one big disaster that end in my expulsion, this year though, it seems as if the universe just wants to make me suffer slowly.

The Principal had a heart attack.

And I was in the room with him when it happened.

Only I was in the room when it happened.

I did try to help with healing water, but I’m not good enough at that to heal others like Katara. It just hasn’t been a focus of mine with all my work on Purification.

Plus, I don’t have anyone to practice on.

I got a teacher but I still had to explain the symptoms to the emergency responders.

Next thing you know the schools gonna have a pandemic, honestly.

OO OO OO OO OO OO OO OO

So, the school had a Pandemic.

A flu pandemic to be precise.

Nearly everyone’s gotten sick at this point.

Grover, Mr. Brunner, me, and a handful of other students are the only ones holding strong.

On the bright side it meant we don’t have to attend class for a few days while the teachers recover.

On the downside everyone has makeup work, and also, I’m was stuck inside with Grover.

Now don’t get me wrong, Grover is a great friend! We hang out a bunch and agree on a lot of stuff and I keep the bullies off his back.

But I can’t call Triton with Grover there, or practice my waterbending, or my Purification magic.

I’m bored.

The flu pandemic just can’t end quickly enough.

OO OO OO OO OO OO OO OO

I’m at the edge of the pit again.

“Welcome back little Half-Blood.”

“My name is Percy, not little Half-Blood.”

The voice hummed, I think it’s a guy but I’m not sure.

“Well then little Percy,”

The voice is totally just trying to annoy me.

“Where do you live?” It finished.

Faint whispers reached me, I can only pick out a few odd words, something about disgusting and mortal? He heard a faint whisper of clearer, and last time?

I wonder what that was about. They sounded like multiple voices now, I don’t know who they are.

“I’m not supposed to give my location to dream strangers Mr. Pit Voice, my mom said so.”

And why does the voice want to know where I live anyways? That seems creepy.

The voice chuckled again, I swear I that heard some snickers beneath it too.

“A fair point little Percy, very well then. What-“

I woke up.

OO OO OO OO OO OO OO OO

I’m working on my present for Triton for the winter solstice.

I maybe kinda might be sulking about missing the equinox.

I did manage to get my hands on some pearls (the normal kind) while I was in the ocean over the summer. Now I’m trying to make Triton an arm band to go with the ones he normally wears.

They’re basically part of his crown (they show his station and the carvings show how significant he is). Most sea beings with any kind of rank have them. They’re valuable.

I don’t have any mind you, but I’m technically of land. And family is supposed to give them. Hopefully Triton doesn’t take me making him one as an insult.

Thankfully I don’t need to do complicated carvings, I managed to get nice wire from the art room, I was carefully shaping it into some runes shapes, then I’m gonna (very carefully and did a lot of practice before doing it) carve careful strengthening and color changing runes in.

I only have like a dozen runes mastered to the point that I can safely use them, two preservation ones, two color changing ones, three peace inducing ones, two purifying ones and then the new ones, three strengthening ones.

Runes are a lot harder to master than people think.

I’ll add the pearls last, the order and colors are important too.

And of course, I have to make my other friends something too.

Oh, and Grover, I figure I can make a wood carving of a tree for Grover, I’ve already gotten the wood too.

I’m planning on doing some fancy shell and pearl necklaces for Samoa and Elei, colors matching to their scales of course. I’m still trying to figure out how to infuse them with gentle purifying energy, it’s a work in progress.

For Masina I found a really nice spiral shell and I’m infusing it with purifying energy, using a rune base to help hold it.

For Fetu and Lagi I’m painting some cool rocks I found, I’m also planning on infusing them with purifying energy.

So, sue me, I’m running low on gift ideas. And I’m not super close to them, we only see each other every now and then.

I still don’t know what they might like as a present.

OO OO OO OO OO OO OO OO

I’m standing in a hall, looking around I realized I’m back in the undersea trench. I peered out the window to see the lantern fish swimming around.

Well at least this time I don’t have to make my way into the palace.

I turned to try and find my way through.

Wandering around I stared in awe at the sparkling inner walls of the palace.

For all that the outside is dark and scary, the inside is bright with glowing walls and misty effects at the ceiling.

The patterns on the floor are cool too.

“I see you’re back little half-blood.”

I whipped around to see the merman from last time there again.

I noted more details this time, like the bands around the merman’s arm.

…

I quickly twisted my hand into the proper show of respect, this was… this was…

“What are you doing in my palace little half-blood?”

I bit my lip, “I didn’t mean too, I went to sleep and ended up here.”

The merman hummed, “Prophetic dreaming then? Interesting…”

Going here without permission could end badly.

“I’m sorry for intruding.”

The merman’s eyes gleamed, “I sense my power on you, you’ve interacted with something of mine.”

I frowned, I have no idea what he’s was talking about. But maybe he’s…

“What’s your name again little Half-Blood? I didn’t quite catch it last time.”

“I’m-“ It feels like I’m drifting, but leaving without answering wouldn’t be smart, “I’m Percy Ja-“

I left Oceanus’s Palace and woke up.

OO OO OO OO OO OO OO OO

I’m back home for winter break, I finally get to see my mom again (I missed her a lot), and ignore Gabe. The best thing though, I get to see Triton in person again at last!

I couldn’t help wondering at my dreams though, apparently prophetic visions? That’s what Oceanus said.

I got to meet Oceanus, my probable dad. He even made a comment about sensing something of his, maybe he just didn’t realize it was me?

I’m honestly almost giddy.

OO OO OO OO OO OO OO OO

I traded gifts with Triton first, giving Triton the arm-band I made, Triton thanked me for it. He didn’t seem insulted, but he ducked his head so I couldn’t really see his face.

He seemed pleased when he left though, so I’m satisfied.

In return Triton gave me a knife. It was made of Abyssal Platinum, found in deepest parts of the ocean trenches. It’s a valuable material, rare but highly coveted in ocean warfare.

The knife is small, but would do damage, it’s hilt is coated in sea serpent scales. And wrapped in Kraken leather.

It’s amazing.

I love it so much. I’ll make sure to keep it in perfect condition. It’s worth a lot more than my partially Celestial Bronze trident.

OO OO OO OO OO OO OO OO

I traded gifts with my friends, I left my gift for Grover with him before I left, and now gave my merfriends their gifts.

Somoa gave me a shell that played the sounds of the sea, since they knew that my teacher went on land a lot.

That way I could always have a bit of the ocean with me.

Elei gave me some armor for my chest, interlocking plates that were apparently made of sea serpent scales.

It’s really pretty, I’m definitely going to treasure it.

Masina got me a stone that would still the waters if I tossed it. It would be useful for low level storms and the like, but apparently it wouldn’t work for much else yet. They were still improving the technique.

Fetu got me a book on the Siren’s Song, he apparently found out I was working on it. It was a rarer one from his parents library. I’m really looking forward to reading it.

Lagi got me the start of a healing kit. I really need to work on my healing more, but Purification is so interesting, and so’s Siren’s Song. I just haven’t had time for it.

I’ll have to try to make time.

Overall, it’s been a great Solstice.

Of course, that’s when the Ocean erupted into a storm.

OO OO OO OO OO OO OO OO

I was back on shore quickly thanks to Triton, he told me to go home and stay there while Triton finds out what happened.

It took a week for Triton to get back to me. And even then, he didn’t appear himself, or Iris message.

He sent one of his most discreet messengers, a seagull that was exceptionally good at avoiding attention.

Apparently, Poseidon was being accused of a theft, a really major one.

It could mean war.

I’m supposed to lay low. Iris messages couldn’t be trusted until the situation calmed down.

Triton would contact me when it did.

Until then I’m to act as if nothing happened.

OO OO OO OO OO OO OO OO

I went back to Yancey Academy and pretended that I wasn’t sick with worry.

I acted like nothing was wrong, nothing at all.

We got a new teacher, Ms. Dodds.

I have a really bad feeling about the rest of the year.

#percy jackson #powerful percy #pjo #pjo aus #pjo fanfic #pjo fanfiction #percy jackson fanfiction #percy figures out how to control water young #waterbender percy #percy calls himself a waterbender #triton #Grover underwood #grover #mr. brunner #chiron #percy's merfriends #avatar: the legend of percy #avatar fan percy #Avatar the legend of percy

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omega-deku · 5 years

Note

So I would love to progress on my art and try comics any tips? ÙwÚ

Hi! I’m so sorry about the late reply. D: I hope you don’t mind if I take this opportunity to address all the anon messages about how we can improve as artists.

I have a tough time answering this question because there is so much I need to learn. I’m super flattered that some of you feel that my art is good enough to ask me for tips, first of all!! So thank you, guys.

It’s a struggle because I only recently started taking up art again. So I’ve forgotten a lot of the things. So I’m probably not the best person to ask about this.

I used to draw all the time as a kid, but after high school, I stopped drawing. I stopped drawing for almost a decade, pretty much. I really regret it. I feel like I could have come such a long way if I did keep going. My parents really discouraged me from pursuing art, even just as a hobby, too. Even when I left home (I’m back now tho), my ex-spouse, greatly discouraged me from doing art too. I mean, “proper” art. They told me my art wasn’t “real art” because it’s not studio art, it’s “sellout” art, like anime/cartoons/fanart. I had even worse self-esteem as I do now, and I listened to them and gave up. I convinced myself I hated drawing.

Please don’t deny yourself things that make you feel engaged and connected. If drawing makes you feel good, if it makes you not realize how much time has passed and makes you feel like you’re accomplishing things, even little by little, please don’t stop. Even if you suffer from depression and feel like things like this are pointless, remember that just doing things in general will help you. Drawing is an awesome way to get into the flow state. To me personally, it’s almost like a meditative state and I find it helpful in dealing with chronic pain and mental health issues.

Anyways, I’ll try to compile some advice sort of things.

ART IN GENERAL

1. Draw what you enjoy! I think the most important thing is to draw what you like. It’s okay if it’s “dumb stuff”. Draw your favorite characters or pairings from your favorite tv shows if that tickles your fancy! You’re much more likely to be spending more time drawing if you’re drawing stuff you like. And as long as you’re drawing, you’re improving. (But still, challenge yourself and get out of your comfort zone!)

Especially for those of you who are planning to pursue art as a career, it’s essential that you don’t view practicing art as a chore.

2. Draw from life. If you really want to take your art to the next level, drawing from life is vital! I think many of us have come across artists who are just amazing, but there are things that look a little “off”. For example, the anatomy doesn’t look quite right, or the perspective is a little wonky. Things like that can be a tell that they’ve learned to draw from other people’s art rather than from life. Or just haven’t practiced the basics enough. (My art isn’t amazing or anything close to that lmao, but it definitely suffers from this. I need lots of life drawing practice.)

There is nothing wrong with learning from your favorite artists, but to really train your “artist’s eye”, you need to strip away all the stylistic choices and go back to the basics. Training that Eye is one of the most crucial things you could do as an artist.

Just take a piece of paper, a pencil and start drawing what you see. If you can, take figure drawing classes at your local community college, or draw the animals you see at the zoo. Sit on a bench and draw the scenery in front of you. Over time, you’ll start to recognize common patterns, simplify/think of things in terms of lines and shapes.

If you can’t afford a class or have the ability to go outside easily, drawing from photographs can be the next best thing. (See the Resources below for an online figure drawing tool.) I’m not experienced enough to definitively say why this isn’t the #1 idea, but from what I hear, there are things that you’ll miss out on, such as subtle shifts in shadows, colors, and other things that will happen from small movements in pose changes, a cloud moving, or whatever else. A different “feel”, if you will.

With the digital art boom, a lot of artists are learning how to do cool digital effects and fancy things, but forgoing basic anatomy, perspective, shading, etc. Which is all fine if you’re just having fun, but isn’t the best idea if you’re really serious about improving. Practice the fundamentals!

(If you have been dreaming about CalArts at one point like I did when I was in high school, one advice I came across from everyone who went there was to draw from life. All the time. It’s not an answer I expected from people who draw funny looking characters all day. You mean all these people who draw such simplified cartoon people and animals can actually draw like masters? Perfectly rendered bowls of fruit? I didn’t realize how much work goes into animating simple characters.)

3. Put in the time.

It’s really easy to get suckered into just watching “how to improve” videos all day and thinking about improving. Watching how other artists work is an important learning tool, but you’ll never actually make progress if you aren’t practicing.

Sometimes, the best thing to do is to not think about it. Just do it.

It’s like when I’m spending a whole lotta time thinking about getting physically fit than just, you know.. just doing it. “Tomorrow for sure.”

It may seem like it’s worthless, but doing those lame 5 push-ups a day instead of the 20-minute workout you wanted to put in, is better than nothing at all. You are making progress, no matter how small it may seem.

Make it a habit to practice every day. That way, you don’t even hesitate. It’s as automatic as brushing your teeth.

All the artists you see who have fantastic, awe-inspiring art may seem like Unreachable Gods sometimes, but those artists didn’t just pull that out of their ass one day. They put in hours and hours and hours of work. Let’s not disrespect other artists by ignoring that and chalking it up to “talent”. No one is born with an innate ability to draw. WE can get there too if we practice!

I want to get good enough to draw the things I have in my head one day!

Some resources that may be helpful:

Draw a Box - This is a site for free lessons for absolute beginners. Look under “Lessons” to learn. The creator of the site is the mod for r/ArtFundamentals. You can post your work there to get critiqued.

Check out Proko’s videos on gesture drawing, art fundamentals, etc. Daily routines of successful artists.

Use this site to practice figure drawing, gesture drawing - Set aside some time to practice drawing people and animals every day. Start trying to see things as lines, shapes, and go big. Don’t get too caught up in the details, and tiny drawings. Learning to draw fast (not draw FAST as in speed, but as in capture the gesture in a post, the “feel” of the movement) will force you to do this more, and with more experience, make your figures less stiff looking.

And it’s okay if you’re aren’t good at it. You’ll make loads and loads of shit drawings until you can get decent.

I’m most definitely in this stage right now, trying to train my Artist’s Eye. As in, I can’t just draw a figure from memory. I don’t really know what goes where without a reference, or how they move, etc. You can tell by how stiff my drawings look.

Lulusketches How to Improve video - She has similar advice, but her point about looking at “Art of” books something I have come across from multiple professional artists; Her advice on worrying about finding your own “style” is really good too. Do challenges like she said!

Her playlist of art tutorials & advice is great. They’re short and sweet. Her beginner digital art tutorial got me started on digital art (the one with Ginny Weasley).

Not free ($30 a month), but these online Schoolism classes look helpful. It’s run by Bobbie Chiu. I saw some great reviews and I want to try them someday. They’re taught by artists in the animation/film industry. But you gotta have a basic grasp on digital art/photoshop for many of the classes, I think? I’m not 100% sure. They’re pre-recorded video lessons.

You can pay more for feedback from the teachers, but you can also just use it as a self-learning guide.

This drawing faces from any angle video was pretty helpful for me. The artist has loads of other tutorials.

COMICS

I don’t feel qualified enough to give much advice on comics. I mean, I don’t even draw the lines for the boxes, haha.. However, these comic books are basically required reading for some courses:

Scott McCloud’s Understanding Comics & Making Comics.

I can’t remember which one it is that I read, I think it was Making Comics? But wow, if I remember correctly, it was FULL of really useful things about how to make effective comics. I lost the book while moving years ago, but it was FANTASTIC learning material. I loved every panel of it.

He talks about everything from perspective, placement of characters, speech bubbles, how big panels should be, etc.

If you can afford it, get a used one and start reading! Even if you don’t want to make comics just yet, it’s super interesting.

#art #comics #art reference #art resources #asks #text #okay i fixed some of the links now #added better stuff

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uncloseted · 4 years

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How Can I Care Less About My Image Like Effy? Less About Impressing Others And More About Just Doing What I Like Without Letting Them Influence Me?

Anonymous said:

So I have some problems with my confidence. I can be confident at times but it lasts for a very short time and I begin analysing every part of myself and find new insecurities. Sometimes it makes me feel really disgusting so any advice?? Thank you for this blog btw

Anonymous said:

Even though there are people who like me I feel like I'm not a likeable person because I'm insecure and this gets in the way of me socialising, having fun and having good relationships with people. How do I stop feeling this way?

Anonymous said:

last night i had the worst breakdown i’ve had in foreve about how ugly i was, every single detail about myself was so prominent and i’ve fallen so deep down this hole where i couldn’t hate myself more. i’m so unattractive andthat’s the only thing that people give a fuck about , relatives, friends, family, employers, it’s consumed my life. sometimes i’ll look in the mirror and like what i see &for that fleeting moment i’m so fucking happy you can’t imagine but then i go back to seeing the truth

Anonymous said:

I hate myself. How do I mask my insecurities and make people think I'm confident and make it look like don't care about what they think?

Anonymous said:

how can i appear more confident?

Anonymous said:

how do i deal with fear of being judged? I'm always so scared that people I've known for a long time will remember embarrassing things I've done and still laugh at me for it

Anonymous said:

I'm so insecure because I care so much what people think, its so bad that I don't even want to leave my house. When I go out with all my friends, almost all of them get complimented somehow and I never do, it might sound selfish or something but it really brings down my self esteem, I start feeling like I'm invisible or that people only hang out with me because they feel bad for me, and it makes me want to stop being social/getting out of the house, etc.

Anonymous said:

I sometimes hate my face so much and I feel so insecure and it's the worst feeling :( I hope I like the way I look one day but it seems so hard.

Anonymous said:

I can’t be confident with myself, I’m a huge ppl pleaser bc it feels like is the only way to keep them around, and I guess that’s ok but what frustrastes me the most is the fact that ppl don’t see me or my personality, it’s like I’m just there to help them out, to be their side kick... whenever I try to be confident I cringe at myself... How can I feel more secure with myself?

More than any other question, the thing I get asked most is how to build self-confidence, overcome insecurities, and deal with the fear of being judged. In this post, I’m going to put every tip and trick I know about becoming confident, no matter who you are and the situation you’re in.

The first thing to remember about confidence is that people aren’t drawn to people because they’re beautiful, or smart, or kind, or fun, or interesting. People are drawn to people who are confident. If you’re confident and weird, you’re not weird, you’re a visionary. If you’re confident and ugly, you’re not ugly, you’re “unconventionally beautiful” or a trendsetter. If you’re confident and overly serious, you’re not boring, you’re a leader. A lot of people think it’s the other way around- that only beautiful, smart, charming people who are well-liked can be confident- but it’s not true. To use a Skins example, Tony’s not a good person. He’s manipulative and cruel. But people like him (at least in the beginning) and go along with what he says because he’s confident. The same goes for Katie. You can argue about whether she’s objectively the most attractive girl in the group, but she acts confident in herself and in her appearance, and it works. Lots of guys are attracted to her. So that’s the first thing- don’t focus on changing yourself (physically or emotionally) in the hopes that you’ll be more confident. Instead, focus on changing your mindset to that of a confident person. It will make a huge difference.

I mentioned this trick the other day, but I want to put it here as well. A lot of people who are insecure use deprecating humor to cope and as a bid to get other people to like them. But I think that can be really emotionally damaging. Like Hannah Gadsby said in Nanette, “I have built a career out of self-deprecating humor, and I don’t want to do that anymore..do you understand what self-deprecation means when it comes from somebody who already exists in the margins? It’s not humility. It’s humiliation. I put myself down in order to speak, in order to seek permission to speak, and I simply will not do that anymore, not to myself or anybody who identifies with me.” Self-deprecation impacts our self-esteem, and it impacts the way people around us view us. The more times we say something, even as a joke, the more we start to believe it, and the more the people around us start to believe it. So instead, make fun of yourself by pretending you’re really, really cocky. If you trip and fall, instead of saying, “I’m such a disaster”, replace it with “I’m the epitome of grace and beauty”. If you make a piece of art and you think it sucks, say, “Obviously I’m the next Di Vinci/Michelangelo/whatever.” If you say something dumb, instead of saying, “I’m so stupid,” say, “I’m clearly the next Einstein.” You still get to make a joke and diffuse any awkwardness the situation has, but you also get practice saying nice things about yourself. And eventually, you’ll get so used to saying nice things about yourself as a joke that it won’t feel so weird to say those things about yourself in a serious way, too.

#Anonymous #effys-closet #effys closet

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