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bunnys-beetlejuice-blog · 3 years

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just full on bodies you with a semi NEW FIC JUST DROPPED BABES

we are leaving cute high school world and entering pain town. this story will have mentions of self harm and suicidal ideation. Please take care of yourselves and don't engage if that sort of content is triggering to you. (be nice to yourselves, i love you)

The worst year of his life starts out the same as so many good days, it almost makes him dizzy to think back on. He feels, later, that a start to this much torment, this painful, should have begun completely fucking miserable, but it had been just any other day. It starts the same way so many days before it starts. His eyes open. He’s in his bedroom, in his bed, like normal. He’s staring up at his black ceiling, wrapped up in his bedspread. His phone buzzes, and he groans, reaches for it, scans messages. A good morning from Barbara, an unread goodnight from Adam, a text from that talent agency that there was something they could use his voice for. He throws back his blankets, rubs sleep from his eyes, and dresses.

In high school his uniform had been an oversized striped hoodie, but for his birthday a few years ago, Charles had bought him several nice dress pants, suit jackets, and collared shirts, and he’d sort of settled into that as his new everyday. He likes how he looks, because this shit is expensive, custom, made to fit his more generous frame, and both his partners always say he looks handsome in a jacket and tie. (Sometimes Barbara yanks him around by the tie. Sometimes Adam snaps his suspenders.) And besides, his dad had taken his preferences into consideration, because all the pieces he’d been gifted had that pattern he was drawn to, thick black and white stripes that absolutely stand out in a crowd. He dresses quickly, throws on his suit jacket over his pinstriped shirt. He adjusts his tie, and gives a grin. Too many teeth, too sharp, and he waves a hand in front of his mouth, and tries again. Human teeth. There we go, B-Man. He lifts his legs, not especially in the mood to walk, and begins to make his way downstairs, for breakfast. He passes by Lydia’s room, and considers harassing his sister, but he remembers how bad he needed his Saturday sleep-ins at fifteen, and takes pity on her, floating past her door silently.

His father, always an early riser, is already in the kitchen, making a pot of coffee, and Betelgeuse lets his feet hit the floor, so that his heeled boots clack against the kitchen tile.

Charles knows the sound, doesn’t even turn around. “Morning, BJ. Any plans for today?”

His relaxed, not exactly actively working lifestyle is not his dad’s favorite, but he’s got a long time, a lot longer than any other person, to work a job. He's just enjoying the time he gets with all his favorite breathers, before he doesn’t have it anymore. At least, that’s always been his excuse. It's not that he can't find work, or that he’s unhirable to a normal job, it’s that he’s trying to enjoy life. Obviously.

But there's good news this morning.

“Got a text from th’ agency. Some voice work,” he grunts. His insanely gravely voice is not always in high demand, but it's been getting some attention lately, mostly because the last commercial he did voice over for, he had to sing, and the request for more of that has been promising. The big goal is some acting gig, on stage, preferably, but he’d take TV, too. He loves the attention, he loves the rush, he loves entertaining. Unfortunately he’s got a demonic aura that makes breathers nervous on principle. He knows if he could just get a break, he’d have a lot to give… but he’s maybe not working on getting that break as hard as he could be.

“Very nice,” Charles finally turns, and smiles, clearly approving. He sets a cup of coffee in front of his son, and BJ glances at it. “Be a pal and wake your mother up?” “This early? On a Saturday?” He squints. “You tryna take me out via Emily attack?” “We’ve got that check up to go to,” Charles says. “I don’t want to be late.”

He shrugs, takes the cup, and vanishes from sight, appearing upstairs, next to his mother. Emily is still wrapped in the bedsheets, snoring lightly, but he knows the trick to rousing her. The coffee cup is waved around her nose, allowing the aroma to hit her senses, and, eyes still closed, she reaches for it. He pulls the cup back.

“Come on, ma,” he scratches gently at her scalp. “Time to get up.” “Coffeeeee,” she groans, reaching at it blindly again, and he grins, and walks backwards, setting the coffee on the dresser, across the room. “Coffee’s over here, Deetzy,” he tells her, and she finally cracks an eye open, and groans. “Evil. Evil son.” “Yup,” he agrees, easily. “Come on. Chuck says you got some appointments to keep.” His mother groans, and kicks back the sheets, before standing.

He’d been twelve, and herself only about thirty when she’d found him, and now, ten years later, at 40, her age is showing, a little. She’s been growing in gray hair for the past few years, and it hasn’t taken over her natural sunshine yellow, but it’s becoming a bit more noticeable, and the slight lines forming around her mouth and eyes are a new addition to her features. Chuck’s aging in much the same way, but with fewer laugh lines. The hair at his father’s temples is going gray, and if he really looks, he can see the beginnings of salt and pepper in his father’s beard. He doesn’t like looking for it, though, and doesn't like the feeling gnawing in his guts at seeing his parents age. If he had his way, they’d stay frozen in time, the way he probably will. Demons don’t age, past a certain point, and he’s pretty sure he’ll be hitting it, soon enough.

He watches his mother shuffle across the floor, and claim her prize of coffee. She takes a long sip, and then groans. “I don’t want to go to the doctor,” she complains to him, and he pats her shoulder. “I know, ma,” he gives her a very sympathetic smile. “But you gotta. Or Chuckles will throw a fit. It’s just a check up, right? No biggie.” She rubs at her temple, and winces. “Getting old sucks,” she tells him. “I’ve been having the worst headaches, recently.”

When they make it back downstairs, Chuck's got breakfast going, and Lydia is sipping her own coffee. Black, like her heart, she always says. He passes her by and ruffles that mop of long blonde hair. “Beetle breath,” she greets him, as he takes a plate from Charles, and sits to eat.

The voice over work isn't as big a deal as he was hoping. He adjusts his tie, fiddles with the collar of his pinstripe dress shirt, and steps out of the booth. “Fuckin’ peanuts,” he complains, and his agent just shrugs. “Gotta start small, BJ. We need someone to do some crooning for this other comercial, some car sale, or something. You feel like playing Sinatra for a bit?”

Not especially, but he does it anyway, and then meets Adam and Barbara for lunch. Adam’s taking classes for business management, and he’s just about done. He wants to take over his grandpa’s hardware store, outside of the city. Way outside, actually, in some little town in Connecticut. They’ve got shared plans, shared dreams, and all of it hinges on this little store in this little town. BJ isn’t too worried. His boyfriend’s hobbies come and go, but Adam really, really enjoys woodworking, and getting to own a place like that sounds like getting to own his own playground.

Barbara, meanwhile, is stuck in clerical work, which she finds mind numbingly dull, but it's a steady paycheck, and it’s afforded her a ticket out of her dad’s place, so that’s something. She and Adam share a tiny studio apartment in Queens, and for all the time Betelgeuse spends there, he might as well live there, too. But three people in a studio isn’t any of their idea of a good time. Speaking of…

“I was on zillow, today,” Adam starts, and he and Barbara lean over with varying degrees of interest, as Adam shows them his phone. It’s a house, predictably, but a nice one. Old fashioned, and a little creeping looking. He likes it.

“She’s a bit of a fixer upper,” he says, admiring the house. “But the price is right, and look at all this character. Classic Queen Anne, with the original crown molding! Tons of space, lots of room for the three of us.” “Maybe a forth,” Barbara smiles brightly, and he matches her enthusiasm. She’s wanted to be a mom since he’s known her, six pretty amazing years, and while a lot has changed in that time, her maternal desire is as strong as ever.

“Maybe a fifth,” BJ grins, wiggling his eyebrows at her, and she flushes. “One from each of my boys.” She agrees, and she reaches across the table, for his hand, which he gives her. Adam takes her other hand, and they’re lost in that fantasy for a moment. He’s not actually sure he can give her what she wants, since he’s not exactly human, but Adam can, at least. And he gets to be part of it. Goddamn, he’s lucky.

“So? Tell us about this commercial you just did!” Adam smiles at him.

“S’not a big deal, just some radio ad,” He tells them, but he’s flattered that they’re always overly enthusiastic about his bit parts. “I heard you on the radio in the office, a few days ago!” Barbara remembers. “My coworkers couldn’t believe that was your real voice! You make such a good villain.” Of course he does. He keeps the smile on, because he knows Babs, knows that she means it in the sweetest, most lovey dovey way possible, but he’s never going to play the hero, because no hero sounds like a demon. He can’t get in his head about this, not right now. Not when the weather’s so nice, and he’s sitting across from the people he loves the most.

“I am the villain, babes,” he grins at her, and stands, leaning over to kiss and rub his stubble into her neck, until laughing, she pushes him away.

“Maybe you should come to the office with me, tomorrow,” Chuck says, over dinner. BJ resists the urge to stab himself through the eye with his fork. “M’not that into real estate, pop,” he tells him, and Emily smiles. “You know BJ’s an artist.” “I just think if he gave it a try,” Charles says, looking to his wife. “That he’d excel at it. I mean, good lord, all real estate is, is making deals and fast talking. He’s built for that sort of thing.” Betelgeuse grimaces. “But then I’d have to spend any amount of time around your coworkers, an’ those other big money creeps.” “Those big money creeps write the checks that paid for this house, BJ,” Chuck reminds him.

“I’ll be sure to send Maxie Dean a fruit basket.”

“Skip the fruit, just send that freak ass a basket of snakes,” Lydia says, and he grins. “Do not do that.” “Psh. Whatever, dad,” he pitches his voice into a teenage whine, and his father gives a dry smile in return. “So, that doctor appointment?” Lydia looks to Emily, and their mother smiles. “Got some scans done, no biggie. Checkups just suck. I’ve been having those migraines, recently, but the doctor didn’t seem to think it was a big deal.”

He’s staring down at his mother, in hospice, and those words echo around his mind. No big deal. The doctor didn’t seem to think it was a big deal. Just a couple migraines. Just some dizziness. Just some nausea. Just a tumor. Just another breather’s life, coming to an end.

Her bedroom is dark. The curtains are drawn. He’s sitting to her left, Lydia dozing to her right, and Emily is sleeping, dozing lightly. Chuck’s talking to the nurse in the hall. The last twelve months are a blur. He can’t remember individual days, can only remember when those test results came back. He remembers, vaguely, holding her hand during treatments. But there’s nothing any breather alive can do about the tumor, about the placement of it. At least she’s at home, at least she’s laying in her own bed. At least she’s not stuck in the hospital. Her sun colored hair is gone. Her smile is gone. That mischievous glint in her eyes is gone. All Emily does is sleep. All they can do is wait. read the rest of this chapter, plus the second one i couldn't help but post, over here, on Ao3! https://archiveofourown.org/works/32243065/chapters/79911316

#beetlejuice fic #beetlejuice the musical #emily deetz #lydia deetz #goldenbeetle #beetlelands fic #legitimately very excited i finally get to post this!!#my writing #beetlejuice

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typical-simplelove · 4 years

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Part Two: Dragon Boats (T. Jost)

Part Two to Red Envelopes, Dragon Boats, and Mooncakes; a Tyson Jost fic.

Series Masterlist (please read the small note at the beginning of the Masterlist if you haven’t already)

Pinterest Link

Summary: Tyson and Kayla spend the offseason in St. Albert when the Dragon Boat Festival occurs. The couple spend the day with Tyson’s family following Kayla’s family traditions.

Author’s Note: Similar author’s note to the first part. You don’t have to read part one to understand part two, just an fyi! Again, I have linked pictures and websites about some of the things that are mentioned here. The Pinterest board linked above also has more photos about the holiday. Anyways, here’s part two! I hope you enjoy it and let me know what you thought!

Word Count: 3k

Warnings: Again, no climax, really. However, warnings are scissors, being Chinese, Chinese holidays, eating meat, mentions of death.

Before the Dragon Boat Festival

During the Dragon Boat Festival, Kayla and Tyson would be back in St. Albert for the offseason. Because of this, Kayla would not be able to spend the cultural holiday with her parents. Knowing that Kayla was a bit bummed about this, Tyson took it upon himself to try to make this holiday similar to ones in the past.

Tyson began researching about the holiday. While researching, he learned that people watch or participate in Dragon Boat racing and eat something called Sticky Rice. The symbolism of this holiday is to ward off evil spirits, any lurking diseases, and release any negativity. Tyson had no idea how to celebrate this holiday with Kayla and had no idea how her family celebrated. He decided to just ask Kayla and help her plan.

“Hey Kayla,” Tyson asks during breakfast a few days before the Dragon Boat Festival. “How do you celebrate the Dragon Boat Festival? I know that’s the next holiday that is coming up that your family celebrates.”

Kayla was shocked that Tyson knew about this. “My family doesn’t do much for this holiday. We don’t watch dragon boat racing but my sister and I always used to make our own mini dragon boats out of construction paper. My mom, sister, and I also used to make sticky rice with my grandfather before he died.”

“What if we did that? What if you, me, Kacey, my mom, and grandparents all made sticky rice? You can teach us! It may not be the holiday you’re used to because you aren’t in Denver with family but you can celebrate with us!”

“If you want, yeah sure! I’ll ask my mom for the recipe and we can make them.”

“Great, I’m excited, babe.”

Despite Tyson only telling Kayla about the sticky rice, he thought he would surprise her with the materials to make dragon boats. Tyson was bouncing in his seat, super excited that he got to spend another holiday with you.

龍舟節 (long zhou jie) - Dragon Boat Festival - June 14, 2021

“Kacey, my mom, and grandparents are set to come at three. Will that be good?” Tyson asks with an amount of energy that no one should have at eight in the morning.

“Yes, Tyson, don't worry. Everything will be fine.” Kayla responds barely awake.

“Is there anything you need to do to prep before they come?”

“All I need to do is soak the rice. And I marinated the chicken last night so we’re good.”

“Do you need to watch the rice soak?”

Kayla laughs. “No, all I have to do is put the rice in a bowl and then leave it there. I’ll probably do that at 2:45, that way we can be ready to start right away when they arrive.”

“So, then, if I bought something, we can do it before they come?”

“Sure! What is it?”

“I bought materials to make Dragon Boats. I didn’t know what to buy so I went on pinterest and found a site. I asked your sister and she said that the materials they suggested were good. I had to buy green, at least, I thought it was green. I, you know colorblind, so not sure if --”

Tyson is cut off when Kayla kisses him firmly on the lips. “Thank you so much, Tys. You have no idea how much that means to me. Thank you!.”

“Anything for you Kayla. I love you.”

“I love you, too, Tys.”

. . .

After Kayla and Tyson were both mostly awake (more like Kayla because Tyson was bouncing off the walls at 8), they got started on the dragon boats.

“So, teach me. What do I do?”

“First, you have to make the green construction paper into a box to make it look like a box.”

Tyson just stares at Kayla, wishing that he didn’t take the plastic covering off of the paper so he could read the labels and know which was green. However, Kayla, knowing Tyson, handed the green paper to him so that Tyson wasn’t completely lost. Tyson was about to start but unsure how to put the paper into a box format. So, he decided to watch Kayla construct hers first. Once Kayla finished, she held it up and said a soft ‘ta da!’

Tyson was still ever confused. When Kayla went to grab a second piece of green paper, Tyson decided he would mimic her actions in real time. However, instead of Tyson’s looking like Kayla’s once finished, Tyson’s was all jagged and didn’t look anything like a boat.

When Kayla was about to start a third boat, Tyson said, “Wait! Before you start, can you do it slowly and explain each step very carefully and clearly so I can make one that looks like yours?”

Kayla chuckles and says, “Of course. All you had to do was ask.”

“Ready, Tys?” Tyson nods in response.

“First, fold one of the short sides about two and half inches in. Try to fold it into a straight line. Yeah, like that. Now, do it to the opposite side.” Kayla pauses, waiting for Tyson to give her a nod that she can continue.

“Now, you take the long sides and fold it in about two and a half inches so it looks something like this. Next step is cut along these lines and fold them in. Nope, like this. Yeah that. Tape the sides so that it doesn’t fall apart. Yeah, good. You now take your scissors and kind of cut in a curved line, like a half circle but only the outer line, to make the curves of a boat. After, we take the long ends and fold them against each other so that they are pointy.”

Kayla pauses allowing Tyson to catch up. She smiles softly when Tyson has his tongue sticking out the side of his mouth in fierce concentration as he normally does.

“Like this?” Tyson asks when finished.

“Yeah!” Kayla responds enthusiastically. “That’s it! And now, we use the gold sharpie and draw scales on the boat. It’s basically is just circles but not closing them. Stopping about seventy five percent of the way.”

Kayla and Tyson draw the scales in silence not wanting to distract the other.

“What comes next?” Tyson asks, once he has finished his one and Kayla all three of hers.

“We add the dragon!”

“We have to make a dragon?”

“No, normally my sister and I would print out pictures and we’d color them. In past years, Elizabeth would color in while Charlotte and I made the boats. I just printed out dragon heads that would match. Here they are. We can just glue them on.”

“Thank goodness. I don’t think that I would have been able to draw a dragon. Ever. At all. So, don’t ask me to.”

“Don’t worry, Tys. I know your artistic abilities. After we glue on the dragon head, we can make the oars with red construction paper and glue them one. Then, we’ll be done!”

Tyson finished putting his head and oars on the boat before Kayla because she made three and Tyson had one good functioning boat.

“What do we do after we finish making the boats?”

“Normally, my sister and I would make a small pond or lake and tape the boats on there. I bought a blue poster board so we can use that.”

Kayla and Tyson worked on their pond for the dragon boats and didn’t leave out a single detail. They made sure to add areas on the grass next to the pond for the spectators to watch the races. They used old wine corks and painted them red and orange to mimic the traditional drums.The couple worked long into the afternoon and only realized the time when Kayla’s alarm went off reminding her to soak the rice.

Once Kayla returned to the table where the poster board sat, Tyson had added little goldfish into the pond.

“You know, Tys, I think that if there were goldfish in the pond, then they would be far away from the boats. Also, probably not visible to the human eye.”

“Whatever, Ms. Smarty-Pants Kayla. I like the goldfish. I vote to keep the goldfish in the pond.”

“Fine, but then, one of my boats gets to be in the lead when we glue them down.”

“You throw a hard bargain but fine, I agree.” Tyson says with a mischievous grin. Kayla knows that grin. She knows that Tyson is going to begin tickling her until she is begging for mercy. Tyson instantly gets up and begins tickling Kayla. This continues on and the only chance at a reprieve is when the doorbell rings signalling that Tyson’s family has arrived.

“I guess I have to stop tickling you, Kayla.”

“I guess so.” He doesn’t

Tyson’s family decide to let themselves in and are shocked at what they see sitting on the kitchen counter.

“What in the world is this?” Kacey asks.

“Kayla spends her Dragon Boat Festival holiday making sticky rice and dragon boats. So, that’s what we did.” Tyson responds.

“Let me guess, this subpar looking boat was Tyson’s?” Kacey asks. Tyson just sticks his tongue out at her and Tyson does the same.

“Ok, you two, cut it out. We have some sticky rice to make, yeah?” Laura cuts in with a chuckle.

Kayla and Tyson move the pond onto the coffee table and clear all of the craft stuff away and put it into a closet to deal with later.

“I already have the rice soaking so we can start with that. Before we mix everything, we have to cut the Chinese sausage, mushrooms, shallots, and garlic. We have to also saute the shallots, too. Let’s start with that and then we’ll go from there.” Kayla explains.

Once the directions were clear, everyone was assigned with a task. Laura is going to cut the shallots and saute them. Kacey and Kayla are going to wash the mushrooms and cut the mushrooms and garlic. Tyson and his grandparents are going to cut the Chinese sausage.

“So, Kayla, tell me. How long have you been making sticky rice?” Tyson’s grandmother asked.

“I grew up watching my mom, grandfather, and aunties make the rice. This holiday used to be my grandfather’s favorite. When I turned twelve, my mother finally allowed me and my sister, Charlotte, to help make it. We normally would be assigned with washing the mushrooms and cutting them. Sometimes we’d be allowed to help construct the rice into the lotus leaf. That only happened later into my teenage years.”

“Do you do this with your family often?” Laura asks.

“Yeah, we would do this every year. This holiday is the one where my grandfather would be in control of the kitchen. My grandmother, aunties, and parents would all be sitting working on wrapping these and my sister and I would huddle around my grandfather for just a peak. He would always tell us about the same stories each year from when he was a child. When I was in high school, my grandfather passed away and my grandmother became the head sticky rice maker in our family. When I was in college, my grandmother was diagnosed with Arthritis making it hard for her to do any of the cooking so my sister and I took on a bigger role of making the sticky rice with my mom and aunties while my grandmother watched.”

“Is this your first year not making this with them?” Kacey asks.

“It is, actually, yes.” Kayla responds glumly.

“Do you miss them?” Tyson asks, wishing he asked if you wanted to go home.

“I was at first but then you prompted me with the idea of making the sticky rice with all of you so I’m not anymore! My grandfather always used to tell me that sharing our traditions keeps them alive. So, I am doing what he always wanted me to do.” Kayla replies with a bit of pep in her voice.

“Care to share any of those stories, Kayla?” Laura asks. Kayla looks over at Tyson to get confirmation that she should share. Tyson nods prompting Kayla to continue.

“Sure! I can’t remember all of them but one of them that I remember him telling us was when my grandfather was five. This was the first year that he was allowed in the kitchen to observe the cooking with the elders. While he was watching, my grandfather watched one of his uncles put salt on the lotus leaves. Putting salt on the lotus leaves allows for a richer taste for the rice. I’ll get to why we don’t do that in a minute. My grandfather decided that the pinch of salt on the lotus leaves was not enough and he took it upon himself to add more salt. No one noticed. When the sticky rice was ready to eat, the rice was so salty that it was fed to the farm animals. My grandfather felt so bad that he confessed to putting more salt on the lotus leaves. His punishment was to have to clean the chicken pen. Every year after that, no one put salt on the lotus leaves and my grandfather never used salt for his sticky rice ever again. I actually don’t think he ever used salt again after that.”

The story gains a laugh out of everyone.

The rest of the prepping continues on with smaller conversations. Once finished and the rice is drained, everyone watches Kayla mix the rice and all the ingredients together.

“I am going to mix the shallots, mushrooms, sausage, and chicken with rice. I am also going to add oyster sauce, soy sauce, and sesame oil. Once I’ve done that, we can begin wrapping the rice in the lotus leaf.”

Once the rice is mixed, Kayla demonstrates to everyone how to wrap the lotus leaf around the rice.

“You put the leaf on the counter and take one cup of rice and put it in the middle. You just fold it so that the rice won’t come out and tie it with a piece of string. There isn’t any pattern to fold it. Once folded, it should look like this and then we’ll steam them and will have sticky rice!”

“I remember when I was ten and my grandfather was teaching me how to do this.” Kayla begins. “He told me and my sister about the first time he wrapped rice in a lotus leaf. He always told the story and made sure to say that he watched this being made for almost eight years prior to being allowed to wrap them and doesn’t know why he did it. He would tell us that he took the kitchen scissors and began to cup up the leaf. He cut a circle so that the rice could sit on something. He then trimmed the lotus leaf into mini looking pieces of leaf and placed them on the pile of rice. He always compared it to someone making a scrapbook and gluing small pieces of ribbon onto the paper. Every year, he would make one of these. This was what the young cousins would do. They would place the cut up pieces on the lotus leaf. I probably have pictures somewhere of me and my sister making those when we were really young.”

“Did you want to make one?” Tyson asks.

“Yeah? Sure!” Kayla replies with enthusiasm. She goes into the drawer and pulls out a pair of kitchen scissors. Kayla and Tyson begin cutting up a piece of lotus leaf. Once the rice is placed on a circular piece of lotus paper, Tyson and Kayla begin adding the small miniature pieces. Their giggles and laughter can be heard throughout the kitchen, putting smiles on everyone’s face in the kitchen.

For the next hour, Tyson, Kayla, Kacey, Laura, and Tyson’s grandparents folded the sticky rice and lotus leaf to be ready to be steamed. Conversation flowed easily and Kayla couldn’t help but smile. She was able to share her culture and her upbringing with the man she loves and his family she absolutely adored. It couldn't be any better.

After there was no more rice to be folded into the lotus leaf, Kayla put the rice wrapped in lotus leaf into the pot to steam for an hour and half.

“What do you do while the sticky rice is steaming?” Tyson asks.

“Not much, normally my mom or grandmother would begin making the other parts for dinner but I just bought those frozen because I didn’t want to screw up making them for the first time. We can watch a movie or play a game, maybe?” Kayla responds.

After a small debate, everyone decides to play a card game as Kayla will have to get up and check the water every twenty minutes to make sure that no lotus leaves came undone.

…

After an hour and half and steaming the rest of dinner, everyone was able to sit down and eat.

“This is the typical dim sum. Normally dim sum is eaten for lunch but on the Dragon Boat festival, my family eats dim sum at dinner. We have Ha Gow, Siu Mai, Cheong Fan, Lo Ba Go, Cha Siu Bao, and Chao Mian. Which are shrimp dumplings, open faced shrimp dumplings, beef wrapped in rice noodles, fried radish cake, steamed pork bun, and fried noodles, respectively. And, obviously the sticky rice we all labored to make!”

Kayla’s explanation was met with hungry looks and nods of approval of how tasty everything looked.

“How did you eat the one with the cut up lotus leaf?” Tyson asks, confused.

“Normally, we would put that one aside and eat it the next day. When it’s cold, it is easier to pick the lotus leaf pieces off.” Kayla explains.

When Kayla sat down, she was so happy that she was able to celebrate this holiday with loved ones, even if they were her boyfriend’s family. If things went according to plan, Kayla hoped that maybe they could make a tradition out of this.

Part Three will be posted on February 26, 2021

#hockey imagine #hockey fic #tyson jost imagine #tyson jost x reader #hockey fanfiction #nhl imagine #colorado avalanche imagine #tyson jost #chinese culture fic #red envelopes dragon boats mooncakes #dragon boat festival #woc oc!#claudia writes

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greenninjagal-blog · 4 years

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Sentence starters: 14, with Roman & Deceit??

Haha, long time, no write! We’re having a pretty poor time right now so I figured a little bit of Roceit would be in Order! Warning: I did not edit this in the slightest.

Summary: Roman has always been a little curious, but the pastry chef definitely takes the cake on this one.

Words: 3007

Quick Taglist: @chelsvans @dwbh888 @glitchybina @faithfulcat111 @felicianoromano @harrypotternerdprincess @holliberries @jemthebookworm @killerfangirl3 @musical-nerd18 @never-end1ng-suffering @nonasficcollection @silverflame-wc @stricken-with-clairvoyancy @the-sunshine-dims @themagicheartmailman @themultishipperchild @thenaiads @treasureofpriam @vianadraws

Read on Ao3 || My General Writing List || Prompt Page (it should also be stated that you don’t need to pick from this prompt page if you don’t want to. Just send me an idea and I’ll do my best :D)

The Point of This is....

“Here, Bite Down on this.”

Roman has had a lot of weird first meetings. As a kid he liked to wander around the town meeting knew people, which, of course, drove his mother up a wall the first ninety or so times that she had glanced away from him for a second and he had disappeared completely on her. Roman was just a curious type of kid. The first time he had been confused by a couple of workers who were fixing an outlet behind one of the counters at his mothers favorite little shop, and he had just wanted to know what they were doing.

They had told him! Which had been cool. Did you know there were wires all in the walls?! He hadn’t even realized that his mom had been frantically looking for him until she had grabbed his arm in a frantic panic and asked if he was alright, and then don’t you dare wander off again! What if something had happened?! Roman!

It had happened again anyway, the store clerk had been redressing a mannequin and it had been neat! Then window cleaner, then flower arranger from the flower shop, then the busker outside the Irish themed pub he wasn’t allowed to be near, then the sign flipper at the street corner who taught him to spin one of the smaller signs--

The point was that by the time Roman hit middle school he knew most of the “little people” by name, and they of course knew his. Roman knew that a lot of them called him by his full name because his mother used to scream it when he went missing,-- Roman Alexander Prince, if you don’t get back here right this instant-- but he learned a lot of cool things!

He could arrange flowers, knew when and where the most dense foot traffic was, knew how to flip signs and draw attention. He could Macgyver his way through most electrical circuits, had the sewers under his town fully mentally mapped out, and knew that if you hit the vending machine behind the laundromat just right, you could get a free snickers bar.

He liked learning knew things. And for the most part? People liked to teach him.

As he got older, he noticed just how heartbreaking that sort of thing was. When he held the ladder steady for the owner of the Mom-and-Pop grocer while the old man replaced the “N” of the sign, the man had casually mentioned that the last person who asked him how he was doing had been a family man who had stopped coming months ago.

Then the more he looked, the more he had seen it: the when he waved to the woman who worked the bakery her whole face had lit up like he had gifted her the world, when he bought the street performer a water they had almost broken down to tears right there on the street, when he had offered the man sitting alone at the park with his head in his hands a chance to pet his dog, the man had called him a “generous kid” and tossed him five dollars before he left considerably happier than he was when he arrived.

The point-- and yes, Roman did have a point-- the point of all of this, was that Roman liked people. He liked learning things, and he liked hearing the stories that people had to share.

He liked telling those stories.

Which would probably explain how he got here: Mindscape, the ever prestigious school for the gifted. Although “gifted” tended to be a relative term. Roman had met a lot more people here, all his age, who eyed him warily like his smile was something to be scared of.

(”It is!” Remus, his twin had cackled from across the table in the dining hall, as if they didn’t have the same exact face.)

Roman and Remus had gotten in together, both on accident: Remus had crafted an application for Roman, sent it in without Roman’s knowledge, and then hacked the School’s Admissions database and marked the application for acceptance.

Things should have gone really bad, because Remus hadn’t known that the School President, Thomas Sanders, checks each and every application and when he noticed an application had skipped most of acceptance process he started digging.

Things should have gone really bad then. Like really bad. Like Remus ends up in jail and Roman has to change his name and move countries, really bad.

Instead Thomas Sanders, had sent them both acceptance letters, and Remus was required to work in the IT department without pay and take all the computer application classes. Somewhere in the middle of that Remus had struck up some sort of deal with the cyber defense team where the Mindscape’s tech department spent all school year building their best unhackable code, and in the summer Remus got to take anything and everything he learned that year and try to break it.

Remus had been winning for two years now. Roman had seen the grown men reduced to tears the moment that Remus’s hands had started flying over the keyboard.

Again, the point to this-- Roman had been at this boarding school for two years now, barreling his way through the journalism and creative writing classes like they were tissue paper walls. He’s met a lot of people his age, and he’s witnessed a lot of weird quirks about them.

Like how that kid in the library who likes to sleep on top of the bookcases, and Roman had witnessed getting swatted with a broom so many times. He was a gymnast and an acrobat and really freaking flexible-- and he had told Roman to fuck off when he had tried to learn anything more than that.

Or like that artist who ran the yearbook club took pictures of everything. It had been pretty cute the way the puffball had insisted on taking pictures of the cracks on the side walk, the clouds in the sky, the rainbow made from the refraction of the light through the glass windows. They had called it “catching little pieces of happiness in everyday!” Which was much sweeter than Roman had been anticipating. “Oops! Sorry gotta go, kiddo!” They had said and then they had been gone taking more pictures before Roman could ask anything about them.

Or like that guy from his Civics class who had gotten way too competitive about the trivia game they had played in class. It wasn’t just trivia though: Roman had learned later that he apparently Logan Ackroyd, the Logan Ackroyd, who had won the American chess tournament for three year in a row now. Any game that Logan touched, reportedly, he won. Chess, Checkers, Othello, Jenga, even Tic-Tac-Toe, and he treated them each like a life or death situation.

The point is of this is everyone had a weird quirk about them.

Roman knew that, knows that.

Heck, even Roman had a weird quirk, which apparently was wandering the school halls after classes. And now that includes being dragged into one of those classrooms by the hoodie of his sweatshirt and then immediately having a fork of something shoved in his mouth.

“VIRGIL!” Another voice squawks, followed by a telltale click of a camera taking a photo, but okay, Roman is a little too busy choking on a fork to take in everything.

There is a hand on his back, and one on his chest, holding him surprisingly steady, while he basically dies-- and man, he did not think that he’d be dying at seventeen years old. Who knew that his mother would be right all those times she insisted that his habit of walking around aimlessly was gonna be the death of him?

There are tears in his eyes by the time he manages an inhale, and someone takes the fork back out of his mouth. The hand on his back is rubbing soothing circles and his lungs flutter weakly, like a butterflies wings.

“Dude,” A voice says boredly. Roman squints up at his attacker-- because yes this was an attack and Roman will forever be scarred by it-- and vaguely recognizes the purple patched up hoodie for the library acrobat. “I said “Bite down on this”, not choke and die on the floor.”

Roman coughs to dislodge the last bit of whatever food just got shoved down his throat.

“Please ignore him,” A smooth voice says, a new voice, and one that sounds exactly like silk on Roman’s ears. “Are you okay?”

The new person, the man who is holding Roman, is, in a word, pretty. Actually, no wait, not pretty; he’s gorgeous. He’s beautiful. He’s Michelangelo’s David come to life, an angel straight from heaven, the God Apollo himself taking a quick break from driving his sun chariot to walk among the mortals--

“Virgil, what did you do!” The breathtaking stranger yelps.

“I didn’t do anything!” The acrobat shoots back, although he looks worried, “I just put the fork in his mouth! Oh shit, dude come on, please don’t tell me you’re allergic to something-- Dee what was in that? I can’t go to jail for killing someone! I just got here!”

There’s another click and a giggle and Roman blinks himself to enough awareness to realize that beside the three of them, there’s also that photography artist and the Logan Ackroyd in the room, also what looks like a cake with three slices cut out of it.

“You aren’t going to jail,” Logan says, although he’s playing on a Nintendo Switch and isn’t paying all that much attention to what’s going on.

“It just a cake,” Dee adds, almost desperately and Roman’s knees really do go weak at that. A pretty man? Using that tone to address Roman? Roman’s surprised he’s still conscious at all. “Are you allergic to eggs? What about Wheat? Milk?”

“Deep breath, kiddos!” The person with the camera suggests, and Roman knows immediately that they are 100% aware that his flushed cheeks and lack of breath are not from an allergy. They take another picture and Roman dies a little more on the inside.

“Please...don’t let... my brother see that,” Roman coughs one more time, “I’m begging.”

The artist just laughs and takes another picture.

“No allergies?” The god beside him says and Roman finds him looking absolutely anywhere but at him.

“No allergies,” Roman confirms, “None at all. It’s all good. And you know I should be--”

“What did you think of it?” The acrobat interrupts. And when Roman just blinks he snaps, “The cake, Princey! Tell Dee that the cake was fine and he can stop banging his head on the table now.”

Roman chances a glance at the man holding him up, and yeah, he could see the faint red marks were he had obviously been hitting his head on something. Unfortunately, said man was also looking at Roman, looking for his answer to the question that was just asked of him and Roman has already forgotten what it was again.

His eyes were different colors, and that totally reminded Roman of that week in the summer when he hung around the ophthalmologist just outside of town. Roman had looked at a lot of eyes, learned a lot about eyes in that time, but really there was something different about those ones. One was a brilliant bright brown, like hickory and the other was glistening gold. He looked like something straight from a fantasy.

Roman’s fantasy.

“Hey,” The stranger says softly, “Are you okay, darling?”

And that’s the last thing Roman remembers.

Because he fainted.

Because the gorgeous, beautiful, ethereal stranger called him “darling” and Roman’s weak gay heart promptly shut off.

He comes to again, just a few minutes later-- long enough that his head is throbbing and his lungs hurt a bit and mere idea of moving sounds exhausting. He’s comfortable just fine where he is.

On the floor.

With his head in the perfect strangers lap.

“There you are,” The man gives him a nervous smile that makes Roman’s mouth dry out. “Do you remember where you are?”

“Heaven?”

Roman has many regrets in his life. Like that time he thought that crawling down the manhole would be fun. Or the weekend he spent hanging out in the courthouse, which had turned out to be incredibly boring. Or that time he brought dog treats to the dog park and ended up get ambushed by like seven dogs at once and broke his arm.

But this....answering that, and immediately hearing that all too familiar cackle that can only belong to Remus? Yeah Roman rates that at the top of Roman’s Regrets.

The stranger bites his lip but he’s grinning all the same. “Apologies. When you fainted we, called the emergency contact on your phone.”

“Remus is not my emergency contact,” Roman grumbles and weakly shuffles his limbs to sit up.

Remus wheezes, from where he’s situated with an arm over the artist and the acrobat respectively. “Like-- Hell! I changed that months ago!” Remus grins, “I wasn’t gonna miss a chance to laugh at you while you get carted away in an ambulance! You only die once Ro! I wanna be there for it!”

“I should have consumed you in the womb.”

“Butcha didn’t!”

“The intention was there.” Roman sways, and he really doesn’t like the way the floor shifts like waves of an ocean.

“Pussy,” Remus tosses out, just for the sake of having the last word. He pulls his arms back from around the other two and fusses with the little artist’s hair. “Alright, brats! That’s my cue to drag my dumbass gay twin away before he faints again. But this was fun! Lets do it again! This time Dee can even let Roman actually fall and crack his head on the floor instead of catching him!”

Roman’s ears burn, and he peeks at Dee with a morbid mortification, “You caught me?”

“Well I was already, holding you up so it wasn’t as much as caught you as you...ah,” there’s a twitch of his lips, “as you fell for me.”

The noise Roman makes is not in any way, shape, or form flattering.

Remus cackles again.

There’s a click and a giggle, “Sorry kiddo! That was just too good to pass up!” The artist bounces slightly. “You both should definitely come back though! We’d love to have the company!”

“No, we wouldn’t,” the acrobat interjects, and lets out a heavy breath when he’s elbowed by his friend.

“Yes, we would!” The artist says. “And next time you can even have some of Dee’s pastries!”

“That’s not necessary,” The stranger says quickly, “They aren’t that good--”

“Will you stop lying!” the acrobat says, “You literally got into this prestigious ass school for your pastries, dumbass. They’re good. Accept it already! Geez!”

The stranger rubs his neck and then his cheek, before turning back to Roman. “Perhaps you can be the judge of that then? Darling?”

Yeah, Roman’s knees are weak again, but he’s stubborn enough that he keeps standing. “I think I’d like that. Although, I can’t say I’m any kind of pastry expert.”

“We all have our faults, I presume.”

Roman’s heart beats a little faster. “And admittedly I will be a little bit bias.”

“A little bit?”

“Only a smidge,” Roman reports, “I’ve heard that good company can affect the taste of food.”

“You intend to be in good company?”

“If it’s yours I’m sure it will be.”

“Who knew there was a smooth talker under that blush of yours?”

“If you think this was smooth you should see--

Remus claps his hands loudly enough to make the acrobat flinch and Logan in the corner curse in Korean. “Okay yes we get it: You both are gayyyyyy!” Remus exclaims, drawing it out just enough that Roman feels a bit of the Cain Instinct(tm) in him rise up. “But if neither of you are going to start undressing to give the rest of us a show, then we need to go!”

“Remus!”

“I’m just saying!” Remus shrugs and then hooks an arm around Roman’s neck and pulls him towards the door, “Its not fair to the rest of us, if you keep being a tease!”

“I hope you step on a lego and fall into a pit of sharks.”

Remus messes with his hair, which seems to be his thing right now.

The others in the room call out their goodbyes, and Remus drags Roman away before he can get more than a sloppy wave. Its still embarrassing.

Actually everything that happened was embarrassing, from top to bottom, and there was absolutely no moment were it wasn’t completely mortifying. Not only did he choke on a piece of cake he didn’t even get to taste, but he gay panicked, and then gay fainted, and every second of it was recorded via camera snapshots. And late at night, when Roman is turning it over in his head and screaming into a pillow, he barely notices his phone flashing.

He’s already miserable, because they probably just invited him back to be nice, and he didn’t even know their names. And Remus was still laughing at him for everything, and everything just really sucked. He opens up his phone to check the message, ignoring the way the his screen burns his eyes.

There’s a text message.

An actual text message.

Stole your number hope you dont mind

Roman can’t breath. The phone in his hand vibrates again.

Oh and your heart. I stole that too. this is a ransom demand.

$40,000 in cash. Or a date to the coffee shop in town.

pls?

this is Dee Ekans btw

The baker?

oh fuck pls tell me this is the right number

roman?

And Roman rolls over and presses his face into a pillow and screams.

But really the point of all this is that Roman got the number of the cute guy. And maybe a date.

#roceit #roman sanders #deceit sanders #sympathetic deceit #remus sanders #Boarding School Au?#I guess it is #Look I just started writing and went with it #gay panic #gay fainting #there is nothing more gay than Roman

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hotpinkhoshi · 5 years

Text

kiss it better | prologue

pairing: mark tuan x reader

genre: angst, smut, brother’s best friend au (sort of)

warnings: age gap (nine years), cursing, explicit sex, slow burn

summary: you were off limits for more reasons than mark could count. but everything changed for him the day you walked into his tattoo shop with those big innocent eyes and a laugh like his favorite song. he couldn’t. he wouldn’t. and yet…

✩ index here ✩

Your favorite thing about living on your own, hands down, was having the freedom to eat ice cream whenever you pleased.

It had been a hot summer in Seoul, hot enough that you couldn’t remember the last time you’d gone out without being painfully aware of the sweat on the back of your neck and the space where your thighs touched each other.

Today was hotter than yesterday had been. Sticky and humid, like it needed to rain. You’d gone out with your new friend, Yiren, to shop for some new records. Well, she shopped for records—you bought a cheap ice cream bar from the convenience store around the corner.

While waiting outside of the record store for Yiren to check out, you leaned against the side of a bench while taking in the area.

You’d moved to Seoul at the start of the summer, and you still felt like a little fish in a big pond. The big, wide world awaited you, and you were desperate to see every inch of it.

A couple giggled outside of a bakery next to you. You tried not to stare as the boy, tall and gangly, wrapped his arms around the female and pulled her into his chest. You wondered how it felt to be held like that.

Across the road, a stark contrast to the pale pink and yellow scheme of the bakery, sat a tattoo shop. Paradise Tattoo, the sign read, in neon blue. A dark haired man, maybe your age or a little older, sat on the steps drinking an iced coffee while bobbing his head to whatever was playing on his earbuds. Even from afar you could make out the sleeve on his left arm, made up of swirls and lines of black ink.

He lifted his head from his phone and caught your eye. You blinked and quickly looked away, gasping when your sudden movement caused the top scoop of your ice cream to topple onto the street.

“Noooooo,” you whined, a full pout forming on your lips. You’d barely even gotten to take a full bite.

“Sucks,” you heard Yiren say from behind you. She had a plastic bag of records, so full you were honestly surprised she could carry it.

You sighed, tossing the empty cone into the trash can next to you. “And I thought today would be a good day.”

Yiren laughed as she bounded up to you, linking her free arm through yours. “It is a good day. You got paid today, remember? What do you wanna do with all your cash?”

You snorted, fully prepared to make a comment about how you needed to save for a security deposit on an apartment. Your eyes drifted back to the tattoo shop, but the man sitting there was gone. You chewed your lip and glanced back at Yiren, nodding towards the shop.

“I’ve never been in a tattoo shop before. Want to check it out?”

Yiren, as usual whenever you expressed one more thing you’d never done before, gasped dramatically. “You what?! I swear, Y/N, you should be in a museum. You’re so cute.”

When she moved to pinch your cheeks, you swatted her hands away. “Gah. Let’s just go.”

You dragged her across the street and up the few steps that lead to the front door of the shop. You heard a ding once the door was halfway opened, signaling your entrance. The cool air of the shop comforted you immediately, offering you some relief from the sticky air outside.

It sort of looked how you’d imagined it, but brighter. There was hard metal blasting on the speakers above you, with framed drawings of all sorts of tattoo styles adorning the deep red walls.

Doubling as a desk, on your left side was a glass jewelry display case with different earrings and bars that were used for piercings in various body parts. Sitting behind this desk was a girl with bright green hair and thick framed glasses.

“Hi! Do you have an appointment?” she asked cheerily, her tone the complete opposite of what you’d expected. You’d never seen anyone with a neck tattoo, but she had hers proudly displayed—a snake traveling from her chest and around towards the nape of her neck, the head appearing on the other side.

“Um,” you said, glancing towards Yiren.

She jumped in. “No. Do you talk walk ins? My friend was thinking about getting a tattoo.”

“I-” you started, your eyes widening at Yiren. “I haven’t decided yet.”

The girl behind the counter nodded and turned around in her swivel chair, reaching for a big black binder that was sitting upon a shelf behind her.

“Here, we have some photos and drawings of previous tattoos our artists have done. We have five artists. Youngjae, Jackson, Mark, and Yugyeom. And me, but I mostly do piercings. Do you have any idea what you’re looking for?”

You flipped open the binder, greeted on the first page by a portrait of a very voluptuous, very naked woman that had been tattooed onto someone’s leg. It took a conscious effort not to show your shock, simply because you didn’t need Yiren cooing at you again.

“Well, I like…” you thought about it as you continued flipping the next few pages, until you came upon a drawing of a rose, a soft pink color that reminded you of the bakery across the street. There was a series of pages full of drawings of flowers, different types and shades of the rainbow. “Who did these? These are beautiful.”

“Ah,” the girl nodded, leaning her chin upon her hand. “That would be Mark. He’s great at flowers, they’re sort of his specialty. Youngjae does beautiful portraits. Jackson’s shading is unbelievable. And Yugyeom is new, but his lines are incredible.”

Yiren snickered next to you. “It must be great working with all these guys.”

The girl raised her eyebrows, an amused smirk on her lips. “Please. They’re not exactly my type.”

Just as Yiren opened her mouth for a follow up question, a male voice called from the direction of the hallway to your left.

“Dahyun, did you get any napkins from the coffee shop? Yugyeom spilled his shit all over-”

Looking up, you saw a guy walking towards you. Perfectly styled hair, a chiseled jawline, and tattoos covering both of his very toned arms. He stopped in his tracks, then gave you an apologetic bow.

“Sorry, I didn’t know we had a customer.”

Dahyun rolled her eyes and grabbed for a stack of napkins next to her. “Here. And tell Yugyeom he’s on mop duty tonight.”

“Yes, ma’am.” The guy saluted Dahyun, then turned on his heel and jogged back down the hallway to one of the rooms.

“Anyway,” Dahyun continued. “We do take walk ins. It’s been slow today, honestly, so if you wanted to get a smaller piece we could probably make it work. Youngjae’s tattooing someone right now, but other than that, it’s wide open.”

You gulped. Now that it was real, you were feeling a bit panicked. But you were drawn to the image of the pale lilac flower on the page in front of you, as if it was calling to you. As silly as it sounded, just looking at it brought you a sense of calm.

“Could I… could I get this?” you asked meekly.

Dahyun turned her head to view the picture, then nodded her head. “Of course. Do you know where you want it?”

You looked at Yiren, a question in your eyes. It had to be somewhere you could hide it. Your parents strongly disapproved of tattoos. To be fair, they disapproved of every aspect of your life already, so how much worse could it get? Still, you wanted the option to cover it up if you needed to.

“You could get it on your ribs, maybe?”

Dahyun inhaled sharply. “Ah, I wouldn’t recommend that. Hurts like a bitch. Shoulders and hips are pretty painless though, that’s where a lot of newbies get their first.”

Worrying at your lower lip, you stared down at the flower once more, then up at Dahyun. “The back of my shoulder, would that be okay?”

“It’s your party, princess. It shouldn’t hurt too much, and if you get it small enough it’ll be over before you know it.”

Dahyun went ahead and printed out the sketch after you told her just how big you wanted it, and modified the color to a deeper purple. She went back to talk to the artist, Mark, then returned a few minutes later and told you to follow her back.

“He’s ready for you. We’ll go over all the aftercare and fun stuff once it’s all done, okay?” she said as she led the two of you back to Mark’s room. You stuffed your shaking hands into the pockets of your shorts, not wanting him to see how nervous you were.

Once you came to the threshold of the room, you first noticed all of the drawings on the walls. Not just flowers, but trees, portraits, still life sketches… all of it. Apparently flowers weren’t the only thing this guy could draw.

Mark had his back to you, sifting through a box full of colored ink bottles. You realized without even seeing his face that this was the guy you’d seen on the steps of the shop earlier. Up close, you could see more of his sleeve. Right on the back of his arm was a large tattoo of a lion’s face, jaw wide open in a roar.

“Sorry, go ahead and sit-” he started as he turned towards you, his jaw dropping once he made eye contact. “Y/N?”

It took you a long moment to realize where you knew him from, and it wasn’t just because you’d seen him across the road earlier. You hadn’t seen him in at least six years, but you knew him right away. How could you not have recognized him before?

You’d practically grown up with him. He’d eaten countless dinners at your family table while your mom fawned over him and pinched his cheeks, asking why your older brother couldn’t be more like him.

The last time you’d seen him was Taehyung’s going away party just before he left for his year-long backpacking experience in Europe. You’d only been sixteen at the time, but Mark was nine years older than you.

Besides the sleeve of tattoos and the deep red hair he was sporting, he hadn’t changed much since then.

“Mark?”

full chapter one to be posted march 17th, 7pm est

#got7 #mark tuan #writing #got7 fanfic #mark tuan fanfic #got7 smut #got7 imagine #got7 scenario #got7 writing #mark tuan smut #mark tuan angst #mark tuan imagine

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ocw-archive · 3 years

Text

Tony Shafrazi, By Owen Wilson - Interview Magazine, November 24, 2008

Tony Shafrazi is one of the world’s best-known art dealers. He doesn’t sell the most art; he isn’t the most social dealer or the richest; but he may be the most artistic. [...] Anyone who knows Shafrazi knows that he is a real character, one of the great talkers. He talked to his good friend Owen Wilson for hours and hours-and here are some of the highlights.

OWEN WILSON: You once said to me that if it weren’t for art then you’d probably have become a bank robber.

TONY SHAFRAZI: Yeah, or something close to that. The image of the bank robber I had in mind was more in the European tradition where you’d rob banks and give to the poor, like Robin Hood. It was that mythology. But very early on, my whole preoccupation was with art-studying it, examining every piece of work. At 7 or 8 years old, a couple of friends and I sort of created a little art thing. We bought some paints and canvases and started making work. By the time I was 11 or 12, I was already making paintings in the styles of Dalí and Van Gogh. And then, when I was 13, my father and stepmother took me to England and left me to study there. I first went to a vicarage in Bilston and lived with a priest and his wife for a year and a half. Then to boarding school for two and a half years and then Hammersmith College of Art & Building for four years. And then I went to the Royal College of Art from 1963 to 1967. It was a long education.

OW: It seems to be part of the Shafrazi luck, being in the right place at the right time, because there you are, right in the middle of the swinging ’60s in London.

TS: Well, actually, I felt a little cheated because all I wanted to do since I was 6 years old was go to New York, but my father wanted me to have an English education. So England was sort of a far cry from the romance of America that I had in mind-especially going to a vicarage and going through those miserable, shivering, damp winters. But, luckily, by the late ’50s, something was happening in England, and it got to be quite exciting. The music world then started to explode with the Beatles and the Rolling Stones. It was an incredible time with this mixture of independence in art, fashion, and the explosion of the pop sensibility. London was certainly at the center of it all for a few years. And as far as art is concerned, I think that sensibility of what was later called Pop art started in England even before America. So I was lucky to be there. But I was dying to come to America.

OW: When did you first come to New York?

TS: In the summer of ’65. I got a visa to come over to the States to visit my mom, who was living in Hollywood. She’s still there. In those days, there was a thing called British Caledonian Airlines, and you could fly across the Atlantic inexpensively. They even put you up in a hotel the night you arrived. Then I looked up the Greyhound bus, and you could travel all across America on this thing called 99 Days for 99 Dollars. And that was all great since I had to go to Hollywood anyway. So I decided to fly to New York City, where I stayed in the hotel the first night, and then I was advised to go stay at a YMCA.

OW: Was that a nice place to stay back then?

TS: Yeah. Back then it was all-American, and New York City was a whole different world. Anyhow, my room at the Y was on the fourth floor, and I remember putting down my suitcase and looking out the window and seeing some people on the fire escape across the street. I realized that it was Andy Warhol’s Factory. So I went up to the Factory, and I remember Andy coming to the elevator and seeing me dressed up in this little mod, shiny, mohair suit . . .

OW: Wait! How did we get from looking out your window at the Y to riding up the elevator in a mod suit to go to the Factory? Did you already know people at the Factory? Or did you just go up there cold?

TS: No, I didn’t know anybody there. I just knew that it was the Factory. I think that year it had just been painted silver, so I had seen pictures of it in the papers. Andy Warhol was like my god already. So I went downstairs and across the street. The building that the Factory was in had one of those manual elevators, right? And there were four or five other people inside when I got on. Gerard Malanga allowed me to come up, and when the doors opened I saw Andy coming toward me. He said, “Gee, who’s this?” So I introduced myself and he said, “Gee, where are you staying?” I pointed to the window across the street. “Oh gee, where are you from?” I said, “London.” And he said, “Oh, great. Would you like to have a sandwich?” And he got me a Coke and a sandwich and showed me around. I remember there were these tall, leaning pictures of Elvis from the movie Love Me Tender [1956].

OW: So it’s your first day ever in New York City, and you meet Andy Warhol.

TS: Exactly.

OW: At this point, you were an artist yourself. Was this a visit, or were you planning to move to New York?

TS: To visit. I went to New York first, and then I spent a few weeks on the bus going to L.A. Along the way, I got off at Chicago and checked out the art school there [the Art Institute of Chicago]. I stopped in places like Kalamazoo, Michigan, and Knoxville, Tennessee-places I’d heard about in songs. I would just arrive in a town and walk around. If I liked the place, I’d stay the night. If not, I’d get on a bus and go to the next place. I made many stops along the way until I came to Las Vegas, where I stayed two or three days and lost all my money gambling. Then I arrived in L.A., and my mom came to pick me up in her new green Cadillac at the bus station.

OW: So you were a horrible gambler even then?

TS: Yeah, well, in London we were already gambling in cool gambling clubs by the age of 17 or 18.

OW: The problem with you and gambling is that you have this gift of having such hope, and unfortunately it’s the cynical people who make good gamblers. You’re always hoping for that impossible card.

TS: Most of the time I gamble just for the fun of it, for the romance of it. It was always cool, especially in London, with characters like Christine Keeler, Raymond Nash, Peter Rachman, and Mandy Rice-Davies and a few movie stars around.

OW: So what happened with Andy?

TS: Anyway, that day when I went up to the Factory, Andy kind of warmed to me when he found out I was an artist, so I stayed there for two or three hours. He said, “So what are you going to do this afternoon?” and I said, “I have nothing.” And I walked over to where he was working. He was trying to fill these silver pillows with helium so that they’d float as part of an installation. He was trying to attach the part that stops the gas from coming out of the pillow-I think it’s called the nipple. I’d been making these sculptures in England using plastic and a heat-seal gun, and I could do it really well, so I said, “Let me show you.” And I showed him how to attach it with the heat gun, very cleanly. I wound up staying all afternoon. Then at one point I said, “Can I use the phone?” And he said, “Sure.” There was a pay phone in one corner all sprayed silver. It took a nickel to make a call.

OW: There was a pay phone in the Factory?

TS: Yeah, a pay phone. So I had a number-I don’t know how I got this number-but on my first day in New York, at the Factory, as I dropped a coin in the pay phone and began to dial the number, I saw Andy coming closer so he could eavesdrop. I was calling my other hero, Roy Lichtenstein. So Roy answered the phone, and I introduced myself-

OW: How did you have Roy Lichtenstein’s number?

TS: I don’t know how I got it. I have no idea. I remember that I had it on a small piece of paper.

OW: So you’re on the phone with Roy Lichtenstein . . .

TS: And I mumbled a few words about being a young artist from London and how I loved his work. And he said, “Well, what are you doing for lunch tomorrow?” And, of course, I was doing nothing. He said, “Why don’t you come by my studio.” And he gave me the address. So the next day I went by Roy’s studio and saw these wonderful paintings he was working on of large cartoon brush strokes with Benday dots. And then, around mid-afternoon, somebody brought over a project that Roy was working on with these cups and saucers that were glued together. Roy said, “Are you free this afternoon?” And I said, “Yeah, of course I’m free!” And I helped him carry some of these things out of his studio. We took a taxi uptown-I didn’t know where we were going-and we got off somewhere and then went upstairs. It turned out to be the Castelli Gallery. As we were walking in, this skinny, smallish, but beautifully dressed gentleman walked out all bright-eyed and with open arms, excited to see Roy. It was Leo Castelli. Roy, carrying these things, turned and introduced me and said, “This is a young artist from London, Tony Shafrazi.” And Leo said with this great accent, “Well, any friend of Roy’s is a friend of mine. Welcome to my gallery.”

OW: And this is all in one day that you’ve gone from Andy Warhol to Roy Lichtenstein to Leo Castelli.

TS: Almost 24 hours exactly.

OW: Tell me about Leo Castelli. He was sort of a mentor to you.

TS: Absolutely. He was like a father figure to me.

OW: He helped you make the transition from being an artist to becoming an art dealer.

TS: He probably had to do with it. I admired, loved, worshipped Castelli. He helped me-and I helped him-a great deal. I put a number of his artists in museums at a time when, economically, they were in dire need. He was a role model. What happened was that when I finally moved to America in ’68 or ’69, the social climate had changed dramatically since my first visit. With the Vietnam War, the whole business of art-making had begun to shift from making interesting paintings or objects to investigating different modes of being in the world, from the kind of monolithic pathways of the older era, which came out of the European tradition to pounding the pavement to find the American voices in art and exploring what later got to be called the postmodern era. And I felt at a certain point that my contribution could be to open up the parameters of what art was. I felt like it was important to acknowledge this new variety of voices, and that’s when the idea of opening a gallery started to evolve. So I didn’t start the gallery with the idea of being a dealer to make money. In the mid-’70s, I volunteered and spent four years as an advisor to the Tehran Museum of Contemporary Art in Iran and to architect Kamran Diba, so I was going back and forth building this collection of contemporary art. The idea was to put Tehran and the beautiful country and people on the map. And, you know, working with a museum, one is forced to deal with the bigger names, but I also felt that there were younger voices and energies that represented the undercurrent of youth and needed to be heard. I opened my first gallery in Tehran with tanks in the streets and martial law, and I lost everything. And, in early ’79, I opened a gallery in New York, and soon after, I was able to bring my father and stepmother out of Iran. Then I introduced my dad to Leo Castelli. Within a year or two, I had some of the better artists of our time: Keith Haring, Jean-Michel Basquiat, Donald Baechler, Kenny Scharf, James Brown, Ronnie Cutrone, and a number of others who started to become quite well-known. My idea was to create an arena so that new voices and new talent could come along and question the old ways of seeing.

OW: How did you find people like Haring and Basquiat, because they could not have been bigger outsiders? Although they were both in New York . . .

TS: Well, a lot of people gravitated toward New York at the time, but they were both developing original voices. I showed many different people like that-I can’t list everybody.

OW: Do you think being from Iran and an outsider yourself sharpened your eye as an art dealer?

TS: Yes. This is why, today, I think the true definition of so-called postmodernism is the acceptance that we cannot go by old models any longer. The old models were based upon a single narrative of development that happened along a singular path. In the 20th century, you have electricity, you have transportation by plane, you have the telephone and all the various media that developed, you have a multiplicity of places, a multiplicity of events and voices and creativities that are happening all around the world-and that multiplicity escalated after the war. It certainly escalated by the mid-’50s, with rock ‘n’ roll and the arrival of the new generation of filmmakers and artists and actors. There was a new voice, a new energy that evolved, and within that there were individual voices that came from the underground. For me, being Christian Armenian, born into the Islamic culture in Iran and then, at the age of 13, being sent to England and embracing the English culture and becoming part of so-called swinging London and the era of euphoria and celebration that the ’60s represented is very critical. It was a moment when, for the first time, the business of internationalism was being effectively represented-in music, art, cinema, design. Before that, everything was directed toward these monolithic forces, toward the old industry, the old school, the old regime, the old format, and there was no room for varieties to evolve. So the breakdown of the modern movement led to what later became known as postmodern-whatever the hell that means-referring to the mixture of people and backgrounds that became a common thing among artists in America. Many of the great artists in America, for example, came from Jewish families and backgrounds that fled all the way from Russia. It’s remarkable, the great masters of American art and cinema who were coming from old roots in little villages there. And then Hollywood, and the haunting, hypnotic impact that American Cinema had throughout the world . . .

OW: If you were in the U.S. Senate, do you think one of your strengths would be filibustering? [Shafrazi laughs] You’re unbelievable! I can’t even remember what question you’re answering! All of a sudden we’re talking about little hamlets in Russia, and I don’t know how we got there! Do you remember what my question was?

TS: Yeah, you were talking about whether the multicultural background that I come from has had any impact on my identity.

OW: Whether you think it has sharpened your eye.

TS: Yeah, it has sharpened my eye. Absolutely.

OW: Okay. [both laugh] You know, you and I have known each other for 10 years, but we’ve never really talked about the day that you spray-painted Guernica.

TS: Oh, yes, another part of the rich and varied history that I seem to be living.

OW: Talk about that.

TS: Boy, that’s going to take another three hours.

OW: Well, give the short version then. When you spray-painted Guernica, the idea was that you were protesting what was going on with Vietnam, right?

TS: Well, there were a number of other things involved, but the Vietnam War was undoubtedly the background and the reality. You have to understand that it was something that no one today could possibly imagine-the constant, perpetual destruction of the war-and, of course, seeing it daily on color television and the implosive effect that it had. It really fractured any of the old ’50s assumptions of what institutions were about and the faith that one put into them. Up until the mid-’60s, there were still lynchings going on in the South. When I was in Los Angeles, I watched the Watts Riots. There were the assassinations, one after another. We also had Watergate, so even the government and the roots of democracy were being questioned and undermined. Every artist, every artwork that was attempting to do something new was addressing those issues. In my case, I felt that if Guernica could speak, then it would scream, and my own interests were moving away from objects and paintings to activities and art actions. I was interested in the idea of how one could enhance something by adding to it or altering it-which was not really a new idea since artists like [Marcel] Duchamp and [Robert] Rauschenberg and various others had done things like that. But some crazy notion came to me that here we have the greatest painting that the greatest artist of our time, Pablo Picasso, ever painted, Guernica-which is an absolute masterpiece, the greatest depiction of the horrors of war, questioning the stance of the government in Spain in dealing with the bombings that had taken place in a village in Basque country-and it was assumed to have been digested and to have had its effect and to no longer have any impact. And yet the horrors of war at that time were exaggerated on such a massive scale that art had no effect whatsoever. But art does have a central place in life-it’s a tool, a weapon-and it was being treated as if it was irrelevant, ineffective, nothing. So I felt that by doing something, by writing across the painting, I was giving it a voice-and by giving it a voice, I was waking it up to scream across the front page of the world.

OW: What did you spray-paint on the painting?

TS: The words Kill Lies All. The idea had come in response to James Joyce’s Finnegans Wake-the phrase “Lies. All lies.” taken from that book and altered with the word kill. I was doing a lot of reading of philosophy and literature at the time. I wasn’t the only one-many people were doing things like that with language, putting common words or phrases in the context of art as a way to communicate.

OW: When you run up against people who maybe don’t have the sensitivity for that explanation of why you did what you did, and who just consider it somebody defacing one of the most important pieces of art of the 20th century, are you sympathetic to that?

TS: No, not at all. Firstly, my thing wasn’t about defacing it at all. For me, it was a matter of doing something and naïvely thinking-idealistically and in a way that was very rhetorical and language- orientated-that the purpose was for the good of art, to enhance it and bring it to the world’s attention. My intention was to put that painting on the front page of The New York Times and of every other newspaper in the world-and that did happen. So it wasn’t a hit-and-run, cowardly prank. The critical factor is to realize that the burning, the rage, the inhumanity, and the hatred that is rampant in American culture was really coming to the surface. In a climate like that, nobody pays attention to pretty paintings. The role of art was, I felt, very important and being neglected. So that’s what led to that point.

OW: You know, I’ve always admired the sculptures you did as an artist back in London in the ’60s, but you’ve always seemed kind of shy about them. Do you see yourself more as an artist or as an art dealer?

TS: I think professionally what I do is run a gallery and represent some of the art of our time.

OW: But do you think of yourself as an artist who happens to run a gallery?

TS: I don’t know what to say. I was asked in 1969 by Lucy Lippard to define art. I think at the time I said that art was a matter of life and death, meaning just the breathing and living and thinking experience-that’s what art is. I like what Rauschenberg told me late in life: “Do you think I chose to be me?”

OW: But do you ever feel guilty that you haven’t spent more time pursuing your own art? Or do you feel that your mission is to represent other artists?

TS: It’s not that I feel guilty-I don’t. I just think that the whole experience of living, breathing, thinking, and being lost in wonderment is, for me, that of being an artist. And the idea of identifying as someone who is just living and existing and making objects or paintings-somehow I moved away from that years and years ago.

OW: William Faulkner once said that “the writer’s only responsibility is to his art.” Do you think that applies to art and artists?

TS: Well, I don’t think there’s one responsibility that’s an umbrella and applies to every artist. I think, firstly, an artist’s responsibility is to realize-

OW: Hold on. Just let me get this down . . . disagrees with William Faulkner. Okay, got it. Go ahead.

TS: What? [laughs] I don’t disagree with Faulkner at all, no. I think that the first responsibility of an artist is to follow truth, and the innate original forces and energies that are within them. At the same time, I also think, collectively, that there has to be a place for artists to reflect and deal with the society they’re living in. I think that great art inevitably reflects some of the drama and trauma and conflicts that exist in the outer world.

OW: What do you think your responsibility is as a gallery owner?

TS: To fulfill whatever it is that I started many years ago, the discoveries that I’ve made. And then also to make significant, meaningful exhibitions. It’s really about getting through the day with some meaningful advancement, as well as maybe making some business happen, of course.

OW: Where do you think art is right now?

TS: Well, all in all, I’m happy that the evolution of art in the past 25 years, and the place of art in global culture-and even finance-has gotten to be so important. One thing I’m really proud of is the fact that now anybody can do anything. The work can be small or large, painting or sculpture, whatever it might be-it’s all viable, and it can come from any part of the world. So the idea of democracy has really taken hold. Right now, as an investment, art has become a huge phenomenon, and prices have risen to astronomical levels. The volume of art produced has also grown to be so great, and all of that comes as a reflection of a much broader interest. I just wish that with the increase in prices and in the amount of art that’s made, there would also come an increased interest in the questions that art asks and in the perpetual state of questioning that should be within it. This is, in a way, a continuation of the spirit that was involved in my spray-painting of Guernica. It’s not at all about destruction. It’s about the preservation of the truth and the place of honor, respect, and dignity that is all wrapped up in the singular act of appreciation.

#2008 #interview

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musictrash0426 · 3 years

Text

Killing Stalking

My name is Elizabeth Stevens, I’m 17 and it is one month until my senior year of highschool. Most of my friends are going crazy trying to plan out their futures. However, unlike my peers, I've known what I've wanted to be since I was 13. I want to be an artist, my parents fully support my decision which is nice. They have bought me plenty of professional quality supplies since my 14th birthday when they saw all the hard work I put into my art. I've even started selling prints of my work on Redbubble. I also have quite the following

Overall I live in a pretty good neighbourhood. It has great people, including my best friend Kai who lives a few streets over. My family and I live in a pretty large house. It has three floors which is a little big if you ask me. There are only the three of us living here, me, mom and dad. But with that being said my parents gave me the entire basement on my 13th birthday. They also helped me set up every room down here the way I want. Not much has changed, even after being down here for four years..

When you come down the stairs you are greeted with my lounge area. Where we have a couch, tv, game system, large bookshelf and some other things. Next we have my room where I have a fairly minimal look. I have a large bed, large dresser, a walk in closet, and my vanity where I do my makeup. The next room is probably my favourite; it's my art studio. Like I said my parents have supported me over the years so I have a lot of supplies. Honestly I couldn't be more grateful for them and everything they’ve given me. I have a full easel, desk, and a lot of supplies, markers, colour pencils, paint (water, acrylic, oils), alongside my new drawing tablet.

This morning when I got up, I went to my art room and started sketching. I've gotten into this habit as it helps me get into a creative mindset, along with getting into drawing for the day. Once I stop doodling I start to make a list of the things of supplies I had recently run out of.

As I was about to leave, I asked my parents if they needed anything. My mom told me to get her a drink from Starbucks on my way home as she knows I’m planning on going there anyways.

I get into my car and drive to the art store. Luckily this store is only 10 minutes from my house. I walk into the store and look for the supplies on my list. While going through the store, grabbing the things I needed, I decided I also wanted to try out a new paint while I was here. I got some winsor and newton acrylics in red, blue,yellow, sienna, black and white along with some mixing pallets. I also got a canvas as I want to make a large painting later.

My mom texted me asking if I could pick up milk and eggs. So I ran into the supermarket and picked up the few things she wanted. I then went to starbucks, got both my parents, and myself a few drinks, and went home.

I got out of my car balancing shopping bags on my arm,the drinks in my hand and I went inside. I put the milk and eggs in the fridge, gave my parents their drinks and made my way down to my art room to put my supplies away. I started brainstorming ideas of what I want to paint and I finally came up with a concept I liked. I open my sketchbook and I start to draw the rough copy of the picture before blowing it up on the canvas and painting it. While I am drawing out the picture I'm watching lavendertowne’s creepypastas series as it's one of my favourites on youtube.

In my concentration, I lose track of time, and before I know it it’s 4:30 pm. My mom walks to my art room saying her and dad are going on a trip for the next week. So I get the house to myself, which is cool. I've been home alone before. “Elle, you can have Kai over to stay for the week if you want.” mom said. “Also I transferred some money into your account so you and Kai can just order some food if you guys get hungry.”

“Thanks mom,” I say “ I love you.”

“Love you too sweetie.”

I walk upstairs with mom as her and dad are about to leave. I hug them goodbye and tell them to have a safe trip.

I decide to take mom up with her offer and invite Kai over for the week. Lately I haven't been wanting to be home alone. So I called him and he said he’d be over in 10 minutes.

I grab a glass of water and wait, before I knew it there was a knock on my door and it was Kai. I give him a hug and he smiles.

“It’s like we haven't seen each other in a while.” Kai teases me. We saw each other yesterday and I called him late last night because I just wanted to talk to someone.

Kai has literally been my best friend since we were both in diapers. Our moms grew up together so it was bound to happen that we would too. He’s my biggest support system, he’s one of the only people who know how I got into art. I watched a lot of anime growing up, I still do, and the art style is what got me into wanting to be an artist.

“Have you started a new piece yet?” Kai asked

“Yeah I have! And I just finished the rough copy” I say.

“Can I watch you work on it?”

“Of course you can silly,” I say with a grin. I show Kai the canvas to let him gauge what I’ve been working on.

“It looks really good!” But his face saddens a little bit. “Are you doing alright?” I give him a confused look. “You tend to draw horror pieces when you're trying to get yourself into a better place.”

Horror pieces are my favourite to draw. I don't have an explanation for it, but I've always liked them. Maybe it's because I loved horror shows growing up but who knows. I look back at all my works and Kai’s right. I tend to do these pictures more when I'm not the best headspace.

“You really know me, at this point it's mostly subconscious” I laugh “I was also watching creepypasta videos so the idea could have come from that. Anyways, what do you think about it so far?”

“I love it of course!” Kai says

I work on transferring it onto the canvas and after about 2 hours the pencil sketch is laid out. Once that's done we decide to go to the movies. We went and saw whatever Kai wanted to see. He picked some rom com which I wasn't mad at as I enjoy these types of movies.

After the movie we went to a sushi place for dinner. I wasn't that hungry so I got the rest of mine to go. Then we went to the supermarket to get some candy and pop for tonight. We decided that we were going to stay up quite a bit of the night so I can work on my artwork and we can just talk about life and stuff. We pull into the parking lot and head inside. This store is open 24/7 so we have plenty of time to get our stuff, but still it is 11:30pm and something makes the air feel very eerie tonight.

After walking around the store Kai and I look at eachother and we both feel like something is off because this uneasy feeling Kai and I hurry up and grab what we wanted. Kai and I decided to pick up Sour Patch Kids, gummy bears and some chips. We then went into the drink aisle where I picked out Dr. Pepper, and ginger ale. Kai picked out diet Pepsi and cream soda. We picked out the four flavours that we both love. We then decided to get a tub of cotton candy ice cream. As we were turning there was this lady who crashed her cart into ours as we were on our way to check out. I looked up and noticed that it was the same lady that had been in each aisle with us, which honestly didn’t make any sense as we just went to the isles we needed.

We check out of the store and head back to the car. After putting everything in the trunk of the car, I look up and see the same woman still there. What the fuck?

“Hey Kai, can you take the cart back please?” He nods and I get into the car and lock it.

I hear a knock that startles me and I look up. It was just Kai. I unlocked the door and he got in. “Wanna tell me why you had the door locked Elle?”

I look over and the woman gets into the car next to us oh great my horror brain made something out of nothing. She was also probably having a movie night with some of her friends.

“It’s nothing Kai, I think I’m just psyching myself out.”

“Okay.” With that we drove back to my place right in the nic of time too as it just started to rain. We shut off all the lights and lock the doors and windows upstairs. We head back down to my studio and I set up everything to begin painting.

I wanted something in the background while I was working so I put on Another. Kai and I have already watched it a few times but we didn’t want to start something new since I wouldn't be able to give it my full attention. Also it's a horror anime so it will put me in the mood for my painting.

I looked down at the outline I drew; it was a girl who had gone psychotic and had a knife in her hand. My plan is to add blood to her once the painting is completely dry, but first I start by painting the eyes. When they are finished they look very dead and already mentally gone inside. I take a break and lay my head on Kai’s shoulder.

“Tired?” he asks me.

“No, I just wanted a break.” We continue watching the anime after two more episodes. There was a bang of thunder and a flash of lightning, I looked out the small window and saw what looked to be a figure of a woman. I looked back to get a better look but she's gone. I must just be seeing things.

I brush it off then get back to my painting. About an hour later I finish painting the skin and I see another flash out of the corner of my eye. I think to myself how odd that is because there was no thunder. I brushed it off as the volume of the show probably just covered the sound. I decided to be done with painting for the night, so we moved out into the lounge area and continued watching Another. There was another flash and in the window we saw her. The woman from the supermarket was in my window.We were going to call the cops then with another flash she's gone.

We decided we couldn't take anymore horror tonight so we put on Ouran Highschool Host Club a few hours later we were on the episode where a character named Tamaki was trying to figure out his friend Haruhi’s biggest fear. When we see a flash of lightning in the episode, it also flashes here, and we see her silhouette again and she vanishes with the lightning once more.

Creeped out we went to my room and lay in bed, I cuddled into Kai because honestly I was shaking and needed comfort.

In the morning Kai and I woke up to banging on the door. I checked the time and it was 8:30 am. We got up and checked no one was there, but there was an envelope that said Elizabeth Steevens and Kai Kalua I brought it inside.

“Ummmm Kai?”

“Yeah?”

I turn the envelope to show him. We were both scared and didn't know what to do. We opened it and there were at least 40 photos of us, starting from when we were coming out of the movie. There were photos of us at the sushi restaurant, the grocery store, and the worst ones of all the ones that were taken looking into my house. Ones of us in my art room, in the lounge, and ones of us asleep in my bed.

Panicked, I call the police and they tell us to come down to the station. Since neither of us knew the woman's name they said there was nothing they could really do for us except to have us tell them if something else happens. Some help they were, I thought.

Kai and I went back to my studio and I continued working on the piece. This time our show of choice was Miria Nikki. As I was painting the hair I saw another flash and considering what happened last night we decided to go to my parents office and check the security cameras and lo and behold she's there on the property.

“Kai whats that in her hand?”

“I don’t know,”

I looked closer and saw that it was a knife. We once again called the police and this time they came, but hearing a car must have scared her. They came inside and asked to watch the cameras with us. Only this time she was at the back door that's connected to the kitchen and of course I happened to leave it unlocked…

“Oh Elizabeth, Kai, come out come out wherever you are..” The woman sang out menacingly. Her voice rang through the house loudly causing me to look to one of the officers for advice

He nods for Kai and I walk out.

“There you two are,”

“Do we know you?” I ask, genuinely confused as to who this woman is.

“Yeah I don't know who you are either.” Kai said just as confused.

“I'm Chloe. I am in your art class.” She says.

We were both confused; we don’t remember having ever seen her before. Our art class had six people in it, us two, three other of our friends and some weird girl who doesn't talk to anybody.

“... you’re the weird girl in our class aren’t you?” Kai questions.

“What did you call me?” She asked with a defensive tone.

“What did you expect him to say, you literally refuse to talk to us. Then whenever the teacher praises my work, you get angry. Besides who goes around taking pictures of people in their own house! That is fucking creepy.” I say

“I get angry because you always get the spotlight! Give someone else a turn.”

“Elle gets the attention because she actually shows her artwork, you just sit in the back of the class and do nothing. If you want attention why ignore us when we try talking to you? What is your problem? And why do you have a knife?” You can tell Kai is starting to lose patience with the situation, as his questions get increasingly aggressive.

“So I can get rid of my competition,” she smiles sweetly.

“What competition? There is no competition Chloe” I ask

“What competition? I have liked Kai forever!” Chloe says frustrated, slightly getting closer to the two of them with the knife.

Kai puts one hand out towards her, while using the other to pull me back with him a couple steps, creating distance between her and I before he speaks again.“I will never like you. Besides there is only one person I like, and hate to break it to sweetheart but it's not you.” This makes me curious who Kai was referring to.

“Then who is it then?” she asks angrily

That's when Kai kissed me. I kissed him back, albeit slightly flustered. This caused Chloe to become enraged, she came towards us with the knife and that's when the cops came out and told her to put the knife down. She complied and dropped the knife as she didn’t realize that the police were here.

One of the two cops took her away as the other came and told us they were going to hold her and do a mental assessment on her. He also checked to see if Kai and I were okay. After we tell him we are he also leaves, leaving Kai and I alone to deal with this new revelation.

“Do you actually like me? Or were you just saying that to get her to stop…” anxious about the answer since I have liked Kai for a while, but didn't want to make things awkward with him.

“Elle I have liked you for a while but I didn't want to lose you.” Kai says as he pulls me closer to him.

I don't know how to respond, all my mind was telling me was ‘kiss him’. I pull him in by his shoulders to another kiss, quickly dispelling doubts either of us had. Kai placed his hands on my waist and melted into it. He pulls away and leans his forehead against mine, just holding me. For the first time in a few days I felt safe.

“Kai?” I ask in a quiet tone almost a whisper.

“Yeah sweetheart?”

“Can you stay while my parents are gone?” I don’t feel safe enough to be home alone, and you wanted to stay in the comfort that he gave you.

“Of course I can angel.”

#anime #alone #creepy #artist #high school #home alone #horror #oneshot #senior #stalker

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ewdaviddd · 4 years

Text

folklore think piece

for a lower case album such as this, i will be writing a lowercase think piece on the subject. i will not explain why. you get it or you don’t.

the 1: i have never been in love or any type of romantic relationship that left me with lasting feelings of any kind. but, on my fourth listen through of this song today, what once was just a promising and fun intro to this peasant girl summer gut punch, brought me to actual tears as i sat on the toilet in my lime green childhood bathroom as if i were mourning the one that got away (another great song). however, i am an expert on being hung up on the past, the “what could have been”, and made up hypotheticals. this song also introduces the film motif seen a lot in this album. i think dating an actor has really gotten to her. anyway what a killer way to begin, top notch stuff. how can a song be so fun and so soul crushing at the same time?

cardigan: when did taylor wear black lipstick? this is important to me. an old cardigan is an inherently bisexual article of clothing. that is not an opinion. i read it somewhere today and i believe it. this is the tip of the queer-coding ice berg in folklore, never fear. another reference, “tried to change the ending / peter losing wendy”. this year i wrote a movie script where both peter and wendy were both gay. coincidence? probably. basically this one is classic taylor poetry on every level and it being one of a trio in a larger story makes it that much better. yet again, high school romance is not a universal experience (like for me for instance) but haunting my “what-ifs” is going to haunt me for a long time. and the thought of someone saying i was their favorite cardigan makes me want to scream into a pillow.

the last great american dynasty: my favorite ts songs have always been the ones with detailed characters and stories and this one introduces the trope of the “mad woman” who comes back later on as well a long with many fun character details. at first this song is just cheeky and cute, very visual, a fun world to jump into. but then this particular stretch of lines makes your heart drop into your chest and reminds you why taylor isn’t just always fun and always cute and always creative, she also holds the ability to nimbly sock you in the gut when you least expect: “fifty years is a long time / holiday house sat quietly on that beach / free of women with madness, their men and bad habits / and then it was bought by me.” my jaw is still on the floor. and i’ve never bought a house myself. but i’ve spent numerous christmases having a marvelous time ruining everything (so i’ve been told) so this song still applies to my life.

exile (ft. bon iver): i’m gonna be honest. for as long as i can remember i have strongly disliked bon iver and i never remembered why. it is a matter of principle at this point. i just don’t trust him. but then taylor announced she wrote a song with him which filled me with tremendous anxiety. but i can rest easy. much like “the last time” this song is a ts and male artist collaboration i can get behind. also the film motif again: the only time i’ve left a theatre when i didn’t like a movie was never because movie tickets are so expensive and if i’m shelling out 11 dollars to sit in a chair, i’m staying the whole time no matter how bad the ending. but i probably would have left my sister’s keeper if i had seen it before if i’m being honest. so i get it. thats why i read spoilers for everything i watch before watching it, because the anxiety of worrying about how it ends make me not enjoy it in the first place. the end of this song: the call and response felt… ethereal? i felt like i was watching a broadway musical from the splash zone seats, crying as i was spat on.

my tears ricochet: this song is what i picture stepping outside in the middle of the night when an inch or so of snow has just fallen and i can see the flakes fall in front of a street light sounds like. or the scorned secret ex lover throwing themselves onto the coffin demanding to know why they weren’t enough. which is to say it feels like a sign from some sort of god. yet again, haunting is brought up, an overt reference to the fact that this album will live in my brain rent free for eternity. for some reason this song reminds me of the relationship between hamilton and burr when burr kills hamilton. that could be because i just watched the disney+ recording last week. one lives, one dies, but neither survive, both pay for it. Which is a super romantic and understanding view on murder. both musical experiences equally chilling and moving. if i die under mysterious circumstances this will for sure be played at the funeral.

mirrorball: first off, this is my mom's favorite which is very important. also, it has skewered a very specific but also universal insecurity of mine; existing just to please others and yet miserably failing. it is comforting that ts is not a “natural’ and feels she must always “try try try” because i too lack natural ability, but also rarely “try” even just the one time. the best way i can describe listening to this song is walking through a silent disco where everyone else is listening to some classic lady gaga jam and you are listening to a calming lullaby sung very far away. but don’t let the soothing sounds fool you. it still will have you reflecting on what it means to look and be looked at. a dark rabbit whole, like falling through the looking glass. i’ve never actually read that book though so i could be wrong.

seven: i’m dumb and on my first listen of this song i thought she “hit her peak” at 7 clock as opposed to age seven. but i always saw taylor swift as someone with an early bedtime. also a fun discovery while writing this, “seven” is the 7th song on the track list. clever. although this song is young and innocent and so nostalgic for a time when screaming ferociously was a widely accepted form of expression, it also sounds like a very old secret someone is whispering to me. a love from long ago that lasts beyond the person being in your life, passed down to me and it all just sounds a little gay. not just because of the specific line to hiding in the closet. but that certainly doesn’t go unnoticed. when i was seven i was definitely in love with girls and assumed that was just what friendship was, playing pirates and making plans of running away together.

august: the eighth track for the eighth month. her mind. also my birth month so that’s special. controversial opinion: from what i’ve read most people seem to think illicit affair is the third song in the triage of teen love. i will strongly make the case that it's actually this one. first of all, the subject: a short lived summer fling, which is specifically mentioned later in “betty”. the central heartbreak of this song is liking someone who always belonged to someone else. yes, this song is a window into a different summer, far from pandemic central and the escapist imagery is delightful. but a whole song from the pov of the “other woman” to james and betty is just so much more fun. and there are two more specific lyrics that prove my point. “remember when i pulled up and said "get in the car”” you will see later comes back from the other person’s perspective. and most of all: the repeated line, “meet me behind the mall”? only teenagers make plans to meet up behind a mall. i rest my case. so now we have cardigan and august. two pieces of the puzzle.

this is me trying: i’m glad i now have a succinct message to send to anyone when they ask me what the hell i’m doing at any given moment. this song just sounds like regret and waste in the most self-assured and confident way. this is “back to december” with the training wheels off. i have no apologies for my efforts at wasting all my potential. but in this song, taylor has opened her arms to me in a warm embrace and has forgiven me for all i’ve done wrong and reminds me to not take for granted the “try”. okay mom. i’m crying again, but okay.

illicit affair: this is the kind of thing that makes you feel sixteen, living in a dull suburb, while secretly screwing your 38 year old married neighbor who’s rich but wants to be an artiste. aka like a character in euphoria or something. it’s sexy and dangerous until you think about it and then it's just dingy and creepy. but this song starts and stays beautiful. most importantly, this song is too sad and depressing frankly, to be a part of the trilogy. we could never forgive james for leaving such a mess and making her a fool. you don’t want to be this girl. you want to walk up to her and shake her and yell “you exist and will not be ruined by any dumb man”. and that’s feminism.

invisible string: is it reductive if i say this one’s about joe? all my non-stan friends have asked me which ones are about him. we forgive them and point them in this direction. because it is lovely and beautiful that we are all tied to our soulmate for our whole lives before we ever meet them (because that would in fact mean that there is someone out there for everyone which might be naive or dumb but i am both of those things and whats the point of living if you don’t believe in the power of love). this honestly gives me “begin again” vibes in the best way. it’s red-era level with the wisdom of lover-era tay. sublime.

mad woman: the second mention of the “mad woman” as both taylor herself and the character in the story. as usual, tay stays calling out double standards and the manipulation of women into “going crazy” for expressing reasonable anger. I, personally, wish i could say “fuck you forever” without someone saying i’m “overreacting”. this is my least favorite song on the album and i’d still listen to it three times in a row and need to resist the urge to set a man’s lawn on fire. just girly things.

epiphany: i know she said this one is about her grandfather’s experience in the military but all i imagine is a slow montage of harry style’s character in “dunkirk” on the beach. and it’s beautiful. and much like my sophomore in high school self reading “all quiet on the western front” it evokes a pain from deep inside me that engulfs a loss i could never describe and a sadness too awful to witness. you will listen to this song and feel absolutely powerless to the will of the universe and it’s cruelty. and the faint but steady heart monitor beep in the background… i’ve never seen “grey’s anatomy” but i can imagine why it has so many fans sobbing. and let me end on this: two soldiers in some old war (meaning both men based on dunkirk) watching each other like this and living and dying together…gay.

betty: the first verse was pulled directly out of my subconscious fantasy of being in love in high school and it being so wonderful and painful and dramatic. and taylor riding a skateboard… is a mood. the song has been out for less than a week and it’s already a cold take to talk about how this is her gayest song to date (close runner-ups being reputation’s “dress” and “cardigan”). but of course i will still talk about it. the lyrics embody such authentic awkward gay energy (see the lesbian in booksmart for reference) and having been a 17 year old only three years ago, i can say with reasonably good authority that no 17 year old straight boy could stand in front of a crowd of peers and beg forgiveness from a girl he hurt. it’s just not realistic. these are all awkward, over-dramatic, young girls stumbling through love. and it’s awesome. james is the speaker of this song, and the subject of “august”, the summer fling that was never truly there due to james’ love for betty, the titular role of this song. thus completing the love triangle. and there are so many obvious references in this song to both “august” and “cardigan”. rhyming cardigan with car again makes me want to light myself on fire in the best way. i love it. “i dreamt of you all summer long” is the final nail in the coffin for the girl in “august” who was clearly just a place-holder. totally separate from taylor swift, my favorite word is porch. so the amount of times it appears in her lyrics is wonderful. say it out loud. it just feels nice. anyway, this song makes me want to be young and dumb and in love. the second can really only be tolerated because of the first and third. i hope the story has a happy-ending. if james were a boy i’d wish him the plague.

peace: the coming-of-age movie starring james and betty (and inez) is over. we have come to “the age” i guess. there’s a thought that’s gonna fester. if this song was just the line, “would it be enough if i could never give you peace?” over and over for four minutes it would still smash me to pulp and fill my body with helium gas. i can and will cause a car wreck when this comes on the aux. if this song is what being grown up is like (bare in mind grown up to me is like, 30) then i’m ready to be done coming of age. because i already worry if i’ll be at all enough for anyone and way too much for someone at the same time. but like all good poetry, this song isn’t about what it “means”, but how it “feels”. and this is new york city, the summer, pouring rain, a long walk home, desperately fearing and hoping they are there waiting for you.

hoax: a one-sided conversation between me and my stubborn clinical depression. i too, constantly stand alone on the cliff demanding a reason. one has not yet been presented. it operates both within and and against me. i could be bigger and stronger than it. but instead i tend to it like a prickly plant. (“no other sadness in the world will do”). there is nothing both sadder and funnier then the scene in “avatar: the last airbender” when prince zuko stands alone on a cliff screaming at the sky for lightning to strike him. i don’t know why this song reminds me so much of that. what a way to end such an emotional rollercoaster. it is so emotionally draining that it simply forces me to start folklore again from the top and listen to it all over again. or take a long therapeutic nap.

there are no skips. and it will still surprise you on your 267th listen. proceed with caution.

i knew you, in a past life maybe. i have not met you yet, but folklore has made me believe you exist.

@taylorswift 10/10 good work

@taylornation this had to be shared and i don’t have a twitter so

#@taylorswift #@taylurking #@taylornation #taylor swift #folklore #ts8

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purplesurveys · 3 years

Text

1155

survey by shanynx73

Do you have a dry erase board? We probably do somewhere here at home. We don’t throw school supplies like that away just in case we’d all of a sudden need them.

What do you remember most from last summer? Thinking if I’ll ever get a graduation ceremony (which I didn’t); lots of pressure about applying for grown-up stuff like a bank account and social security; and being naive about my relationship that I had no clue was already quickly going down the drain.

Where is the last place that you shopped? If online spaces count, I was just at Lazada around an hour ago trying to see if there’d be a local shop somewhere selling Good Dye Young.

What kind of shoes did you wear today? Didn’t go out today so no shoes were worn.

Have you painted lately? No but it would be nice to, now that you’ve mentioned it.

Which season has the best clothes? We don’t get 4 seasons, soooooo can’t relate.

Do you know about the many uses of coconut oil? Not too familiar.

Do you watch Dr. Oz? Back when we still bothered to have cable I remember occasionally catching his show on TV as I’d flip the channels, but it never looked all that interesting to me.

When was the last time you got balloons? My dad’s birthday, three months ago.

What color is your favorite purse? I don’t have a favorite.

What are your plans for tomorrow? Take more surveys, try not to spend money, and maybe do a couple of daily reports I usually have to do at work so that I don’t have to skim through 4 days’ worth of data by the time I get back to work on Monday.

How was your past Christmas? It was amazing; it was the time I put my foot down and finally firmly decided to start moving on from Gab, so there was a lot of self-love and self-acceptance going on. It was a very personally enlightening time for me. It also helped that I got to spend time with my extended family (in the most socially distancingy way possible) to keep me distracted and remind me of what I do have.

Do you prefer the game Sorry or Trouble? I’ve never tried playing either and I can’t remember each of their main concepts off the top of my head.

What color are the sheets on your bed? They are blue.

Do you prefer pull-over sweatshirts or zip-ups? Zip-ups, so at least I have the option to open or close it.

Have you ever had quiche? Sure.

Have you ever had a conversation with a priest (etc.) outside of church? I might have. It wouldn’t be a kind of memory I’d save in my head, but a part of me thinks there is definitely a chance this has already happened before.

What do you order when you go to McDonald's? I feel like I’ve answered this recently lol but I usually get a Burger McDo. But now that I can afford to get pricier meals, I’m looking forward to the time I’ll finally be in the mood to get a 20-piece box of McNuggets all to myself hahaha.

What do you like to put in your coffee? I don’t really make my own coffee...I prefer mine made for me already, which is why 3-in-1 sachets work perfectly for me lmao.

What is a political issue you feel strongly about? Locally speaking? All of them. Being apolitical is just privilege at work. I do take breaks from reading the news once in a while for the sake of my mental health, but I’ve never stopped giving a shit.

How often do you have to charge your phone? The battery’s health has started to slowly dwindle down; and let’s be real, it was thanks to the time I had YouTube videos on 24/7 as a coping mechanism after my break-up. So for that reason I have to charge it 2–3 times a day; it now gets drained a little faster than it used to when it was still at 100% health, but overall I’d say it’s also still holding up well.

Do you have a song stuck in your head? Sugar on the Rim - Hayley Williams. I swear I listen to other artists too.

What makes a good movie to you? Screenplay. Lines can so very easily make or break a movie.

Do you have any yellow shirts? Yes, and other kinds of tops as well.

When was the last time you wrapped a present? 2015. That was the first and only time I attempted to, and when I saw that I proved to be terrible at it, I’ve since either 1) just bought paper bags, or 2) paid my sister to wrap the gifts I’ve bought.

Do you normally win or lose at rock, paper, scissors? I typically win, actually. No idea why.

Do you like Fruity Pebbles? No. This is honestly not a Filipino/Asian thing and I had absolutely never heard of it until The Rock started calling John Cena a big bowl of Fruity Pebbles like a decade ago on WWE TV. My tween ass felt like I had to fit in so I had my mom buy me a box of Fruity Pebbles the very next day even though it cost like a bitch, and it wasn’t even that delicious.

Do you have any stuffed animals from when you were younger? Nah, I wasn’t big into stuffed toys even as a kid.

What is the craziest thing you've heard or seen on TV lately? A guy getting arrested for picking up his own McDonald’s order outside of his own house. That is the clownery of the country I have to live in.

Have you ever hyperventilated? Yes.

What was your favorite book to read in English class? Without Seeing the Dawn.

Do you wear scarves? Nope.

Are your nails painted? They are not.

Do you like to dress up? Sure.

Are you looking forward to anything in the next week? Eh, not really. I was looking forward to this week because of the Holy Week break, so I’m actually dreading next week because there won’t be any other work break as long as this anymore until Christmas.

Do you buy lottery tickets? I’ve never done so.

What is your favorite flavor of Gatorade? I’m traumatized by Gatorade lol. My mom made me chug that shit down endlessly when I was 4 when I had multiple doubts of diarrhea or whatever it was, and I never got over it. To this day I refuse to even smell it.

Do you think most people wear masks? LOL I had already typed out a full-blown answer for this talking about Covid until I double-checked and saw that this survey was made in 2013, so it must’ve been talking about masks in the metaphorical sense...that’s my “ohhhhh” moment of the day for sure lmao. Anyway, yeah sure.

What feature do you get complimented on most? Skin.

What are you planning to do next? Look for another survey to take, and maybe some nice instrumental music to listen to.

#survey #surveys

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terminally-karkalicious · 3 years

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allow me to rant about the only thing that has been in my brain for the past two months and that is doll customizing babeyyyyy

i know there’s a 90% chance that you wont give a Shit about any of this but here we go anyways

SO first you gotta choose a doll. preferably one with a high range of motion to avoid creating new joints or having annoying limitations like not having elbow joints for some fucking reason. what the fuck mattel. give monster high dolls back their ball jointed shoulders and elbow joints. smh

the most common dolls ive seen used as bases are monster high and ever after high. most customs ive seen are highly stylized so the stylized face molds work well for those types of dolls but dolls like barbies are good for when you want a more realistic face-ups.

once you’ve got your base picked out you gotta wipe that bitch’s face off with like. acetone or nail polish remover or something strong like that. you can also use acetone to shrink doll heads which is cool as hell imo. n e way once the face is wiped you gotta chop off the hair and remove the hair plugs from the inside. ive seen this done several ways but the easiest and most common way ive seen is to dunk the head into boiling water for ~30 seconds until it gets squishy and malleable. once you’ve got the head back, you can use pliers (i think tweezers would work in a pinch) to pull out the hair plugs which are kinda icky because theyre covered in glue and other gross shit. ew

now you must decapitate the doll. dunk em back in the boiling water to soften them back up then just tug the head off. the neck pegs look funky and are usually a different color than the body so thats cool ig

once the head’s off, you can start the face-up which is basically just giving the doll a new face using stuff like watercolor pencils, acrylic paint, gouache, and a whole lot of other stuff. hell ive seen people use person makeup on these dolls.

next,,,,, hair. there’s about twenty million ways to do hair from gluing yarn wefts to sewing to rerooting with purchased nylon doll hair or yarn wefts but i’m gonna talk about the most common one ive seen which is rerooting and gluing.

before you can reroot, you need doll hair. which, as i mentioned, can be bought at stores like the doll planet or made at home with yarn in literally any color. have fun with it! make rainbow hair or something idk

to make homemade wefts, you take some acrylic yarn, cut it twice as long as you want the hair to be (keep in mind you can cut and style the hair once it’s been rerooted), fold them in half, and tie it to something sturdy like a wire coat hanger for the next step.

once you’ve got your yarn tied to your hanger, use a pet brush and brush the yarn until it’s wispy and looks like hair. then take a straightening iron and iron the weft flat. then remove from the hanger and boom. hair wefts. ta-da

to reroot the wefts onto the head, use a rerooting tool (which can be as simple as a needle with the eye cut at angle) (just google it please i’m shit at descriptions)) to poke small sections of the hair into the head. you can use the pre-existing rooting holes for your own reroot as they’re usually pretty reliable. to reroot, take a small length of you doll hair (about 10-15 strands), loop it in half, and put the middle of the loop into the reroot tool. poke the end of the tool with the hair on it into the pre-existing hole and remove the tool. the hair *should* stay in and fill up that plug!! also remember to plug thickly at the hairline and part of the hair where it's most noticeable. it doesnt matter as much in the center of the head as that’s not usually visible on the doll. once you’ve rerooted, squeeze in strong glue through the neck hole and squish around the head to make sure it covers all the plugs and secures them in place. then pour hot water onto the head to make the hair lay flat for styling later.

also, you can reroot yarn directly into the head to make thicker, more textured hairstyles. and since the yarn is thicker, you dont need to glue the inside of the head for the hair to stay in place!!

if youre not doing body modifications (which are also cool as hell) then it’s time for clothes but clothes are boring and i like body mods more so i’m gonna rant about them instead

the material ive seen most doll artists use is apoxie sculpt, which is like play doh on steroids. it comes in two parts which you gotta mix together for some reason. why dont they sell it pre-mixed. what was the reason. also once it’s dry it’s super super strong and you can sand it, drill into it, paint it, and all kinds of stuff. very nice and i want some for myself.

you can use hand saws and drills and shit to whack off doll limbs to make stuff like digitigrade legs or new joints. also dont be afraid to use other mismatching doll parts when customizing like heads and bodies and forearms and hands and shit. it literally does not matter if youre gonna recolor the doll anyways so have fun with it. make frankenstein’s doll if youre feeling spicy

accessories my beloved. stuff like tiny beads and clay baubles and shit will literally transform the entire doll plus they’re adorable and multi-purpose

i suppose i must talk about clothes now. ah well. you can find great clothing patterns if youre new to customizing on other customizer’s etsy shops and probably google although those will probably be lower quality than paid pattern pieces. and keep in mind that if it exists as clothing irl, you can likely make it doll-sized. there are literally no limits to your clothing options as long as you can execute your idea.

the once all your components have been made, you can assemble the doll again!! and finally see what all the parts look like together!! very cool 10/10 stars.

ight that wraps up my doll rant. i could really go into more detail on certain parts but thats a whole other rant for a whole other day smh. sorry for fucking flooding your inbox ender ahaha……………. you asked for this

little did you know that dolls have been one of my favorite things since like ever. if i can read a 25 chapter long fanfic i can read this B)

mattel definitely fucked up by completely ruining MH doll designs and just stopping EAH, alot of their profits most likely came from people who collect and customize dolls and by changing MH doll designs/Stopping EAH dolls they 1. most likely lost a small (or big if we're not jus talking people who customize dolls) part of their profit and 2. made it harder for doll customizers to make dolls/get commissions out rather quickly because they probably have to waste more time making joints or learning how to make joints.

EAH/MH dolls (specifically MH dolls) had AMAZING MODELS because there was so much variety with height, face shapes, etc (my favorite molds had to be the short/tall dolls and the cat molds because of the tails) and doll customizers really went all out with enhancing a molds unique features. The only "downside" abt MH dolls is that they (or atleast most)(from what i remember)) had slimmer faces but wider eyes while EAH dolls have wider faces with slimmer smaller which left a canvas for the face and not the eyes (and vice versa for MH dolls)

I've never seen any videos where a barbie is customized (maybe because i absolutely despised barbies at the time) so I'll definitely have to check those out but they seem to be good for realistic makeovers. I've seen like like semi realistic makeovers for EAH/MH dolls that were pretty good too tho (pretty sure mostly EAH dolls since yk MH dolls were used for creature makeovers while most EAH dolls weren't)

yeah i was always amazed by the head shrinking with acetone. honestly i still am?? idunno i have no idea how that chemical bullshit works. Ive seen a few of uh makeovers that just pain over the face (in multiple layers ofcourse) but that's usually when they're painting the entire body a different colour (again usually when they're turning a doll into a funky little baby man). I've also seen a few that just chop the hair off and take out the hair plugs yk without uuh like softening the head or just go straight for the hair plugs after taking off the head (i used to do that it was funny to me??). i always really liked when they used watercolour pencils or just colour pencils in general to draw/sketch on the face cause like wow ur drawing on ur doll without ruining it?? kinda epic maybe even poggers and pogchamp?? oh god my brain is failing wjshsmsj.

Watching them putting the hair back on the doll was, other than the face stuff, was the BEST part for me. Favorite type of hair was iuuuuuh was either thick yarn or brushed out yarn. Literally worship the people that would reroot the hair, theyre the most patience people on this earth!! it's literally insane but i guess that's what happens when you've been doing that for years? you guess kinda get used to it. when they put glue into the head does it just become stiff?? like it's just a clump of dried glue or does it like..hollow out again??

dude you literally cannot convince me most of the supplies used for doll makeovers. APOXIE CLAY LOOKS SO FECKING GOOD. its edible and i will die on that hill. The body mods are literally so amazing!!!!! it's so impressive how theyre able to imagine certain features THEN LIKE ACTUALLY MAKE IT LOOK ACCURATE TO WHAT THEY WANTED TO LOOK LIKE AFTER LIKE ON TRY (or many yk trial and error is very necessary for..everything). Absolutely loved when doll customizers would saw off a dolls legs and use different ones or just completely get rid of the torso to use a different one. it's like uuh that one big guy that's mismatched and sewn together. very cool. The accessories are so fun!! just small little details you seen really need but can add because it's your feckin doll!! I used to be absolutely obsessed over the doll clothes i would find on etsy, so much so that i started sewing shitty shirts and dresses for my uh "customized" dolls (they were absolute HORRORS idk WHY my mom let me feck up my dolls like that).

Thank you for this!! i haven't been able to talk about any of my interests for a while and this just really made me happy!!

Question fer u my fellow MH/EAH enthusiast: what was your favorite MH/EAH movie/episode and doll series. Mine was The fusion dolls (MH obvi) and that MH movie "Haunted" cause we got to know more about Spectra :D

#YOOOO LONG POST?!#long post #:) hehehe #this was very fun to read cant wait for ur next fanfic length ask #asks :D #theoreticallyjasper

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crimeronan · 4 years

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ik youre not a therapist and i dont want like therapy or anything but im 17 and ive known i was bipolar for 3 years now and i dont know how im supposed to live the rest of my life like this. im so fucking tired. how do you stay alive

you sent this a couple days ago & i’m posting at a weird time so i’m not sure if you’ll see it but.

i’ve been looking at this message trying to decide how to respond

because i don’t know your situation, your symptoms, how you’re feeling, whether you’ve had positive or negative experiences with medication, psychiatrists, therapists, hospitals, all that related shit

the bipolar life advice i give to people is vastly different depending on the individual. it’s not a one size fits all thing. and there’s never even a guarantee that my advice will be the right choice

so since i don’t know about your situation or experiences or what you want, i’m not gonna tell you what to do. i’m gonna focus on the “how do you stay alive” question and try to pen down some personal feelings. and if they help then great, and if they don’t then... this is the most honest i can be

(you can always ask another question to get a better answer. my inbox is a coin slot and i am a vending machine of varied-degrees-of-helpfulness replies offered at varied-inconvenient-too-long-intervals)

how do i stay alive

it’s a 2-parter, actually. i pondered how to condense my thoughts/feelings, and it came down to these two things

1. love 2. spite

1. love

the spite is easier to write about than the love. love is hard to reach when i feel like shit.

spite is where i go when i want to die. love is where i go when i want to want to live.

maybe i don’t want to be alive. but maybe i wish i did. spite doesn’t help me much there. spite keeps me afloat, but it doesn’t make the floating pleasurable. there’s more to life than outlasting everything that ever hurt me. i need a reason to continue when there’s no enemy to fight

so. love

i almost wrote about the spite alone because that’s rawer, realer, more visceral. that’s the shit that CONNECTS when everything feels hopeless. but it would be a lie of omission. spite is only one of the major food groups, you’ll waste away from malnutrition if you eat it for every meal. or at least, i will.

“so you’ve got a bunch of people you love,” you say, “and you stick around for them. cry on them. support each other. like each other. fine.” you’ve heard this story before

nah.

i mean - yes. i have people i love. i live with two partners, i’ve got a third girlfriend, i’ve got a long-distance platonic life partner. i have a support net, i have a family i’ve forged, i have confidence that i’m not alone. i have, in a bare-bones checklist sort of way, fulfilled my physiological human need for connection

but i could live without every single one of them. i’m not dependent upon any of them for my survival. i’m not dependent upon them for love, given or received. (this isn’t a callous cruelty, it won’t hurt them if/when they read this. i’ve told them all this, they know. they’re glad of it.)

so. what the fuck does “love” mean, then?

the short explanation is that it’s my love of life, of things in the world. it’s all the little connections i’ve made. every time i love something, a hook tethers to the universe. hook enough tethers, and i no longer feel the need to float away. no dissolution of self today, sir

the rest of this section is some of the things i love. partially it’s to show how i connect to little things and ascribe magic to the mundane. partially it’s because i like thinking about things i love, i like typing them out, and i like that i could keep going for thousands and thousands of words.

i am laying in bed at 7:30 AM with the lights off and the shades drawn. blue light comes through the slats because it’s the better time of year, the one where i finally get vitamin D, the one where the birds chirp at 4AM, the one where the sky isn’t impenetrably black til 10PM.

there’s a weighted blanket tucked around my legs. my partner rafi bought it for us to share because it’s soothing and heavy and comforting and helps with my physical pain. right now it’s soft on my skin and if i get too emotional as i write, i can pull it over me like a cloak until i’m settled.

the apartment’s walls are blank because we’ve spent eight months intending to put art up and keep forgetting. but there’s a newly-unearthed dining area in the kitchen because i finally shifted around the unpacked boxes that were dominating the space. it’s new and it surprises me every time i walk out there. it’s open and inviting and bright and it’s a sign that we’re making this place home.

we’ll put a cheap IKEA table by the window and we’ll probably never eat family dinners there - why would we sit in hard chairs and make stiff conversation when we could all cuddle on the couch - but my partner dev will create a place to do their art and the surface will be constantly littered with drying watercolor experiments.

we’ll hang our art one of these days, too, when our collective adhd offers a miraculous combo of remembering + having time + having motivation + having inspiration. rafi has the most art because they’ve been collecting it for years. i have to start smaller. i’m not used to keeping physical objects. dev has a few pieces thrifted or bought at local artist events or painted themselves

so we’ll put art up in the living room, my single “you are magic” flower print alongside a naked monster lady that dev fell in love with when we browsed art at a yuletide event months ago, alongside rafi’s monster girls and comic characters and book characters and literature art and quotes and abstract pieces and whatever else they have hiding in boxes.

my head protests that naked monster ladies do not belong in the living room, although the picture isn’t overtly sexual. but then i remember that they do, actually, because it’s our space and we can do whatever we want with it as long as the lease isn’t broken. there isn’t anyone in the local social circles who’d be perturbed by the decor, as far as i know. i don’t have to hide anything from my parents because i live 3600 miles from them, and even though i miss my mom, the distance is good for me

there are two exquisite chairs on the porch. they fold and recline from thrones to nearly-horizontal beds. there are pillows and cupholders and trays and specific spaces for both a book and a phone. i can sit there while the morning sun rises and read or play word games or browse tumblr, cup of coffee beside me, trees shielding my eyes from stabby sunbeams

there are remnants of the last tenant’s garden in one corner of the yard. we’ve done fuckall for yardwork but plants struggle through anyway. some seem to have sprouted by accident. mushroom clusters populate the edges of the fence. the apartment squirrel (there are probably several, but i like to think it’s a single energetic creature) runs back and forth along the fence & i always lose my train of thought & then laugh my ASS off at the “SQUIRREL! XD” adhd moment. birds kick up leaf litter and play on the ground looking for insects to eat, they wiggle their tail feathers and flap their wings and sometimes they disappear and then return with friends

a little more than eleven months ago, i packed all of dev’s and my shit into a uhaul and drove and drove and drove to get to this city i’d never been in before to live with a partner i’d never cohabitated with. we were homeless for more than a month, we weathered some financial disasters, we met some great people and some shitty ones

on the drive i fell in love with the sky. i didn’t know how big it can get - actually, that’s a lie. i’d FORGOTTEN how big it can get. i’ve loved the sky thirty miles out to sea, no land in sight in any direction, just blue water and blue space above. i’ve loved the vastness and the yawning beneath me and the knowledge that everything is BIGGER than i can fathom. the depth of the sea doesn’t frighten me, it’s home. i don’t want to die, but if i had to, the ocean makes a soothing grave

in north dakota i discovered that i’ve been partially blind my whole life, which is a different tale that showed me i’ll never stop learning myself. in montana we struggled up thousands of feet of mountains with the car huffing and puffing at the trailer’s weight, and when we finally coasted downward, it felt like sudden freefall. we ended up in the pitch darkness of night on sheer winding interstates with midnight construction projects forcing detours. the mountains felt hungry, they had teeth. mountain cliffs are much scarier to me than the ocean depths

i bought a red bull and poured a little out the driver’s side door as an offering to hermes, because i’m not particularly religious but i’ll take help where i can get it. slammed that back in a few gulps and shook to bright-eyed alertness and ended up behind a slow-driving red pickup truck that guided us over about a hundred miles of mountain terrain

i thought, that’s just some construction worker driving between sites. the roads are empty at this time of night, but it’s an interstate. of course we’d end up behind someone. this isn’t divine intervention. this isn’t the benevolence of a god

i thought, but it can be a little magic. if i want it to be.

and it was. it stays with me.

god help me but i’ve been writing this stream of consciousness for more than 30 minutes and i’ve said nothing. i haven’t talked about the city, the parks, the people, the conversations, the books, the tv shows, the movies, the communities, the library, the animals, writing, reading, singing, acting, swimming, analyzing, creating, supporting, building. and i can keep going. i can come up with hundreds and hundreds of things i love and i can write paragraphs about all of them

so i’ll stop here. you get the picture. love is the life i’ve made for myself, the surroundings i’ve built, the quiet moments i can capture, the inspiration i pin, the magic i commit to memory.

i had to work so damn hard for every single bit of this.

i’ll be fucking damned if i let it go because my brain tried to trick me into thinking death is better.

2. spite

there are people who want me to die.

i don’t mean that i have a giant entourage of personalized enemies who curse my name and plan my individual demise. although there have been plenty of people who have not liked me much. probably some of them would enjoy my death. i don’t give a shit about that

there are people who want me dead because i am a dot on a grid they dislike. a faceless anonymous enemy who meets too many bad criteria with numbers and percentages and shrinking majorities and shifting public opinion

because i’m gay. because i’m bipolar. because i’m autistic. because i’m a dropout. because i grew up poor. because my spine curves and my shoulders ache. because i squandered my potential, because i didn’t have enough potential, because i didn’t love god enough, because i love the wrong gods, because i don’t worship, because i worship wrong, because i didn’t seek a husband, because i never wanted one, because i talk too much, because i can’t be controlled, because i chose to leave the fold when i realized it was suffocating me, because i’m ugly, because i’m gorgeous, because my body belongs to me

pick your poison.

this bothered me growing up, a lot. i knew i did not deserve to die. but if enough people tell you that you should, a little part of you will wonder if they’re right. that little part might become bigger the closer they get and the louder they shout and the longer they wear you down

we know the rough shape of this story, i don’t need to tell it. mine was messy and not triumphant and i survived more by chance than premeditation.

i’m older now. by and large i’m still young as shit - i’m 24 - but GOD i am LEAGUES away from 15, 16, 17. i know who i am. i know what i want. i know how to get it. and when i don’t know that, i find out. i tell the truth. i ask for what i want. i use my time how i want. i do what i want.

there are days that i can’t access the “love” side of the equation. no finding poetry in birdsong or sugared coffee for me, thank you, i feel like shit and the world is awful and everything is too big and fast and cruel and everything wants me to die and it wants everything i love to die, too. everyone i love. it’s all garbage. the good doesn’t touch me

trauma is difficult to describe. the difficulty is compounded by the fact that my trauma is influenced by my various neurodivergences, bipolar included. i never know if i’m feeling what other people do. i don’t know if i’m voicing unpalatable feelings others are afraid to express - or if i’m just othering myself, admitting i’m not as human as everyone else.

there is something malevolent and monstrous inside me. i don’t touch it all the time. but i don’t pretend it isn’t there. it sits in my chest and molders or radiates or oozes. it presses at my throat. it curdles in my stomach. it hurts what it touches, whether that’s me or someone i love or someone i hate. it sets things aflame with no regard for the precious or the fragile. it tears down walls and razes shelters and begs for apocalyptic rain.

i can give this thing names, clinical descriptors. i know what it is on a diagnostic chart, in a ponderous article, in an academic debate, in a fiction novel, in a war movie, in a memoir. there are a thousand ways to describe this thing. the descriptors aren’t important. what is important is this - i have learned that most people do not walk side-by-side with a tornado-hurricane-hellfire-weaponized-open-nuclear-reactor. this is not a “normal” expression of human emotion, this is not me trying to ascribe power to “bad bipolar feelings.” this thing lives in me and i know why it’s there and it is not designed to be held/silenced/muzzled/controlled by my body.

it does not help to pretend this thing does not exist. it does not help to try to reason it away or ignore it or tell it to stop. it wants what it wants, it does what it does. possibly if i was better at therapy or stubbornness then i wouldn’t resign myself to that

but it is fucking EXHAUSTING to try to fight something that’s part of me. to try to reshape it, rename it, pare it down, make it consumable for the masses. it’s a war i have never won and it’s a war that i will lose if i keep fighting it. i cannot fight with myself. i cannot beat my monster into submission. if we’re gonna battle like that, head to head, me trying to cut it down, me trying to be the hero, it rearing back like a fire-breathing dragon,

then it’s stronger. it’s always stronger.

so i surrender.

but that’s not where i stop.

can’t fight it. can’t kill it. can’t muzzle it. can’t reshape it, can’t disarm it, can’t contain it.

alright.

so what now.

if the surrender was a full giving-up, this is where i’d passively accept that i’m doomed to hurt and destroy everything precious to me. can’t fix it. will lose everything, will never experience or deserve happiness, will make the world worse simply by existing.

that sure does sound like impending-doom rhetoric. hop skip and a jump from some dire-ass conclusions.

so fuck that, i say.

here’s a better question.

if it has to get out, then what happens if i control where it goes?

here’s the thing.

the monster doesn’t care what it kills or destroys or hurts.

“have a conscience, care about things, remember love, stop yourself, don’t do this don’t do this don’t do this.”

losing battle. lost war.

it’s not the monster’s fault. the monster doesn’t have complex motivations or hates or fears. it exists to protect me through scorched earth. a remnant of a chemical imbalance, maladaptive coping mechanism, bipolar crazy, traumatized injury. it doesn’t know that its job is obsolete.

i can’t change the monster.

but my mind is a separate thing. my mind knows what matters, what my priorities are, what i find precious, what i want to protect. my mind remembers all the things the monster doesn’t.

my mind has learned things the monster can’t.

when i fight it head-on, the malevolence is stronger than me. but as i am, walking with it, sitting in my bed writing this while examining the void and the consciousness, describing it, quantifying it,

that’s when i’m stronger.

and with my mind as the stronger force, i can decide where the monster goes. what it touches. what it destroys. what it burns. where the ashes land.

i do not want to be a destructive person. i want to be someone who builds, repairs, changes. i want to make the world better for kids like me. i want to stop pouring more gasoline onto a fire that’s been burning since long before i was born. i want to believe - i do believe - that positive change is better than negative. i do my best to plant good things and enact that positive change instead of becoming a beacon of wrath.

but there are a lot of kids surrounded by people who want them to die, and not all of them have a protective monster.

so it’s good.

when i’m depressed, my mind loses its battles. my cognizance slips. i forget why i care. i forget what i want. i forget how happiness feels, how to find pleasure in quiet moments.

i don’t get depressed as often as i used to since my meds are adjusted correctly now. but it still happens. it will keep happening for the rest of my life.

my mind weakens and curls up and stops fighting, and the monster is always there.

it’s a very powerful thing when it wants to be.

it wants to survive.

the thing is, it knows there are people that want me/us/whatever dead. it’s been fighting them forever. die like they want? my mind says, sure, what does it matter.

the monster says, nah. our work isn’t done. and fuck them, anyway.

so we get up.

so that’s how i stay alive.

i typed this for 90 minutes and after editing i’d spent two hours on this post. i don’t know if anyone will read it all. i don’t know if it’ll mean anything. i don’t know if these thoughts even make sense, much less if i’ve conveyed the feelings i have.

i love being alive. and when i don’t, i love being a monster. it’s good. all of it is good. i’ve reconciled my uglier pieces. it’s not one or the other, love or spite. it’s symbiosis. i need both, i love both.

no guarantees that this is helpful, but based purely on my own life experience, these are my tips for survival:

you’ll have to find your own roots. i can’t give them to you.

but it’s possible to dig them in and spread them far enough that one uprooted peg doesn’t shift your whole equilibrium.

and when you’re tired, rest, and let yourself be tired, and find the reason why you’re staying in the world.

i’m positive there’s at least one.

figure out why you’re losing your battles and then change the game.

if you can’t win one setup, don’t try to beat the system. adjust your strategy.

you’ll be surprised by what you can love when you stop fighting the disparate pieces of you, and instead figure out how to use them.

#i have several other questions to answer in my inbox if you've asked me st over the past few weeks #im not ignoring it im figuring out how to phrase my reply #replies #bipolar blogging #actuallybipolar #my writing #life advice #long post #REALLY long post #it's under a read more but if mobile deletes it i apologize #c ptsd tag #suicide m #ok to reblog #Anonymous

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basscannonjack · 4 years

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1-100 SPEED RUN

Ama. How could you do this to me

1: when you have cereal, do you have more milk than cereal or more cereal than milk?

Lactose intolerant, only eat cereal dry

2: do you like the feeling of cold air on your cheeks on a wintery day?

yes, but not for too long

3: what random objects do you use to bookmark your books?

i just try to remember lmao

4: how do you take your coffee/tea?

don’t like coffee, drink tea plain or with some sugar

5: are you self-conscious of your smile?

not as much as I used to be!

6: do you keep plants?

I have one (1) cactus that I haven’t killed in the 9 years I’ve had it

7: do you name your plants?

sometimes!

8: what artistic medium do you use to express your feelings?

music or writing

9: do you like singing/humming to yourself?

ALWAYS

10: do you sleep on your back, side, or stomach?

I generally fall asleep on my stomach and wake up on my back

11: what's an inner joke you have with your friends?

I HAVE YOU NOW

12: what's your favorite planet?

Neptune, probably!

13: what's something that made you smile today?

my SON asking me ALL THE QUESTIONS

14: if you were to live with your best friend in an old flat in a big city, what would it look like?

oh god, probably a bit of a mess

15: go google a weird space fact and tell us what it is!

the ISS was launched on the day of my birth, so it’s been in space *literally* my entire life

16: what's your favorite pasta dish?

just plain ol’ chicken alfredo

17: what color do you really want to dye your hair?

keeping it silver baybeee

18: tell us about something dumb/funny you did that has since gone down in history between you and your friends and is always brought up.

oh man, there are so many, but i’ll go with the time that Roman got coke to fizz through my nose by making me laugh too hard

19: do you keep a journal? what do you write/draw/ in it?

no journal, only very similar looking notebooks to doodle and write in

20: what's your favorite eye color?

hazel!

21: talk about your favorite bag, the one that's been to hell and back with you and that you love to pieces.

my Bag of Holding! snapped the clasp on it a few years back though

22: are you a morning person?

not at all!

23: what's your favorite thing to do on lazy days where you have 0 obligations?

SLEEP

24: is there someone out there you would trust with every single one of your secrets?

Ashe, of course

25: what's the weirdest place you've ever broken into?

I had to break into my own safe at my old job, does that count?

26: what are the shoes you've had for forever and wear with every single outfit?

I’d say my boots, but I just got a new set, so the older ones

27: what's your favorite bubblegum flavor?

Spearmint or wintergreen

28: sunrise or sunset?

Sunrise

29: what's something really cute that one of your friends does and is totally endearing?

I just love seeing my friends blush

30: think of it: have you ever been truly scared?

yes, I won’t go into detail

31: what is your opinion of socks? do you like wearing weird socks? do you sleep with socks? do you confine yourself to white sock hell? really, just talk about socks.

SOCKS SOCKS SOCKS I used to collect weird socks, now I just have a bunch of fun dress socks lmao

32: tell us a story of something that happened to you after 3AM when you were with friends.

driving everyone home at 4 am and seeing other people on the road and going “you should be in bed!” at them

33: what's your fave pastry?

lemon meringue pie

34: tell us about the stuffed animal you kept as a kid. what is it called? what does it look like? do you still keep it?

Teddy a winnie the pooh bear that I still have!

35: do you like stationary and pretty pens and so on? do you use them often?

I adore new pens

36: which band's sound would fit your mood right now?

uhhhh I’ve been listening to a lot of Rise Against and ABBA lmao

37: do you like keeping your room messy or clean?

messy

38: tell us about your pet peeves!

nearly anything my brother does

39: what color do you wear the most?

black or blue

40: think of a piece of jewelry you own: what's it's story? does it have any meaning to you?

my claddagh ring from my grandmother, i don’t have much else from her

41: what's the last book you remember really, really loving?

not the last book but there was one about a girl having a single dragon finger that I remember reading so many times that I unfortunately don’t know the name of, or the Tamora Pierce Lioness series

42: do you have a favorite coffee shop? describe it!

Don’t like coffee!

43: who was the last person you gazed at the stars with?

James <3

44: when was the last time you remember feeling completely serene and at peace with everything?

I do not :’)

45: do you trust your instincts a lot?

not as much as I probably should

46: tell us the worst pun you can think of.

I’ve been changing my username to a different halloween themed pun for all of October, I’m all burnt out

47: what food do you think should be banned from the universe?

Balut, it icks me out

48: what was your biggest fear as a kid? is it the same today?

heights, and yes :’)

49: do you like buying CDs and records? what was the last one you bought?

I got a record player fairly recently, I have some P!atD ones, Foo Fighters, and Imagine Dragons

50: what's an odd thing you collect?

rocks

51: think of a person. what song do you associate with them?

Bitch by Meredith Brooks for my eldest sister

52: what are your favorite memes of the year so far?

the ones we’ve made in our server

53: have you ever watched the rocky horror picture show? heathers? beetlejuice? pulp fiction? what do you think of them?

all of the above except Pulp Fiction, I’m not really a movie person but I *am* a musical person

54: who's the last person you saw with a true look of sadness on their face?

my dad

55: what's the most dramatic thing you've ever done to prove a point?

Cotton Eyed Joe in six inch heels

56: what are some things you find endearing in people?

honesty and passion in an interest

57: go listen to bohemian rhapsody. how did it make you feel? did you dramatically reenact the lyrics?

I just vibe and belt, y’know

58: who's the wine mom and who's the vodka aunt in your group of friends? why?

can they both be me

59: what's your favorite myth?

the soup with a rock in it!

60: do you like poetry? what are some of your faves?

Where the Sidewalk Ends was always a good one

61: what's the stupidest gift you've ever given? the stupidest one you've ever received?

a coffee cup drinking horn for my dad, and some painted rocks from my brother

62: do you drink juice in the morning? which kind?

it would be apple juice if I did

63: are you fussy about your books and music? do you keep them meticulously organized or kinda leave them be?

not at all

64: what color is the sky where you are right now?

greyish, the sun is just about to rise

65: is there anyone you haven't seen in a long time who you'd love to hang out with?

My eldest sister

66: what would your ideal flower crown look like?

ROSES

67: how do gloomy days where the sky is dark and the world is misty make you feel?

give them to me, I love them

68: what's winter like where you live?

COLD

69: what are your favorite board games?

Monopoly and LIFE

70: have you ever used a ouija board?

no thanks

71: what's your favorite kind of tea?

raspberry or orange for fruit and mint

72: are you a person who needs to note everything down or else you'll forget it?

no, but I do write things down anyways

73: what are some of your worst habits?

I lose things all the time

74: describe a good friend of yours without using their name or gendered pronouns.

STARDUST SOULMATE

75: tell us about your pets!

I have a Min Pin named Lily

76: is there anything you should be doing right now but aren't?

Sleeping

77: pink or yellow lemonade?

pink

78: are you in the minion hateclub or fanclub?

*insert ick emoji*

79: what's one of the cutest things someone has ever done for you?

decorated my band locker to celebrate my birthday

80: what color are your bedroom walls? did you choose that color? if so, why?

beige, but I hung up a bunch of posters!

81: describe one of your friend's eyes using the most abstract imagery you can think of.

when the sun hits very rich dirt where a tree used to be

82: are/were you good in school?

best in class in math with a 101.8 but I also rarely did homework so uh

83: what's some of your favorite album art?

Too Weird To Live, Too Rare To Die

84: are you planning on getting tattoos? which ones?

Dragon on the shoulder blade, roses on the left arm, Exalt on the right

85: do you read comics? what are your faves?

webcomics! Barbarous, currently

86: do you like concept albums? which ones?

:? not sure what that means

87: what are some movies you think everyone should watch at least once in their lives?

TREASURE PLANET

88: are there any artistic movements you particularly enjoy?

nope!

89: are you close to your parents?

my dad!

90: talk about your one of your favorite cities.

don’t really have a favorite, in all honesty

91: where do you plan on traveling this year?

I was supposed to go see Ashe for their birthday but maybe next year!

92: are you a person who drowns their pasta in cheese or a person who barely sprinkles a pinch?

CHEESE CHEESE CHEESE

93: what's the hairstyle you wear the most?

uhhh it’s usually short enough to do nothing lmao

94: who was the last person you know to have a birthday?

I have a friend’s bday tomorrow!

95: what are your plans for this weekend?

WORK

96: do you install your computer updates really quickly or do you procrastinate on them a lot?

bit of both

97: myer briggs type, zodiac sign, and hogwarts house?

INTP, Scorpio, Ravenclaw

98: when's the last time you went hiking? did you enjoy it?

last year? maybe the one before? I did! but my heart didn’t

99: list some songs that resonate to your soul whenever you hear them.

How Far We’ve Come, Matchbox Twenty

The Call, Backstreet Boys

I2I, from the Goofy Movie Soundtrack (lmao)

100: if you were presented with two buttons, one that allows you to go 5 years into the past, the other 5 years into the future, which one would you press? why?

the future! I’ve had my time in the past, no changing it now

#ama i love and care about you so much darlin'#but this pains me #my dear sunchild

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vee-angel · 4 years

Text

Sharking Sherry (Chapter 1, repost)

So I have, at last, managed to get the Introduction to the fifth and final member of the Pervert Pentet. I’m pretty excited about that because it means the first part of this series is done. I actually wanted to write Sherry’s story earlier, but I put it off a bit after I decided that it would be written in first person from the perspective of someone who’s a much bigger anime/hentai fan than me. It’s always tricky trying to realistically write a character who knows much more than you about something.

This is probably my most wholesome story so far, so there’s not really any content warnings needed, but as a bonus, there is a bit of a flash-forward to the point where all five of the character’s stories converge.

________________________________

My name is Sherry Sugisaki, I’m twenty-two years old, single, blood type B, and as of today, I’m the official club historian for the Pervert Pentet!

The Pervert Pentet is a club that me and four of my best friends formed so that we could all get together and just be ourselves without other people calling us weirdos or sluts. Well, except for Piper. She calls everybody a slut, but trust me, compared to the other things that come out of her mouth, “slut” is a compliment!

Piper is kind of our leader. She’s the first girl I ever met who was an even bigger perv than me! She’s so smart it’s a little scary, and she always speaks her mind. The only problem is that her mind is always in the gutter!

Nancy is the muscle of the group. She’s the tall athletic type, and way prettier than she realizes. She can be a little intimidating, but I think deep down she has a good heart. I haven’t really gotten close to her yet, and Piper says I probably shouldn’t try to. Nancy says that she doesn’t want to hang out with me because she doesn’t like Asian people (except she said it in a way that wasn’t quite so polite), but I think maybe she just had a hard life and she’s not ready to trust people, yet. And she’s always hanging out with Teira anyway.

Speaking of Teira, she’s this rich, famous artist from Europe. Nancy went to one of her art performances a while back and Teira saw something special in her. Ever since then, Nancy has kinda been Teira’s sidekick. Teira can be a little scary too, but in a different way. While Nancy seems tough, Teira’s… well, creepy. She never smiles, never seems to have an opinion about anything, and she kinda has this icy-cold “I’d like to see you chopped into neat little pieces” vibe. In fact, the only time I’ve ever seen her look excited is when I introduced her to guro porn.

Bailee is the last girl who joined our club. She’s usually kinda dumb, exept sometimes she’s not? We’re all still trying to figure out exactly what her deal is. She’s sooo much fun to hang out with, though! And she’s actually into cute things, like me! As much as I love Piper, some of the things she’s into gross me out. But with Bailee, we can talk about cute boys, and go clothes shopping! Plus, she looks like the big-boobed girls in hentai, but in real life!

But you’ll get to know them later. They say to write what you know about, so I guess I’ll start by telling you about myself!

I grew up in the U.S. but my father is from Japan. My mom is from here, but ethnically, she’s half European and half Brazilian, which I think is why I have a bigger butt than most Japanese girls. My dad was the typical Asian father, which means that he worked all the time to provide for me and my mom, but I never really got to spend much time with him. I guess that’s why I started getting into Japanese culture at a young age. I was into all the normal stuff like Pokemon and Sailor Moon and Hello Kitty, so it was really exciting when I was little and my mom got me a subscription to this really cool anime streaming service!

But even though my mom really liked Japanese history and culture, I don’t think she realized just quite how naughty some parts of it can be. While other pre-teen girls dreamed of a storybook romance with a handsome man who buys them pretty dresses and mansions, I thought up pranks to play on my romantic rivals when we were all crowded into a little house along with our collective boyfriend! When I finally learned what other little girls fantasized about, it just seemed so boring! And lonely, too. I mean, sure, being in a harem seems like it might get a little crazy sometimes, but it’s also exciting. And besides, when things get really tough the girls always put their differences aside to solve problems as a family!

I guess watching all those shows gave me a sense of humor that wasn’t exactly “politically correct.” But honestly, it’s funny when busty girls get their boobs yanked out, or when lecherous milf-types molest shy, blushing lolis. Oh! And when bad-ass fighter girls get their clothes all ripped up during a battle and they suddenly realize that everybody can see that they’re not wearing panties and then they’re all like “Eep! Don’t look!!” That’s the best!

Okay, okay, maaaaaaybe it’s not just that I think it’s funny. Maybe it turns me on a little bit, too. But can you blame me? I mean, when you see a pretty girl on the street, don’t you just want to pull her dress up or yank her boobs out?? Of course you do! Everybody does, they just don’t talk about it. The only difference is that in my case I actually do it!

I’m getting ahead of myself again. I should back up. So when I was in middle school, my parents let me get a smart phone with internet access. And let me tell you, if you think anime is naughty, you haven’t seen hentai! I mean, there’s stuff that’s even too dirty for me! But eventually I came across one kind of video that made me obsessed. And for once, it wasn’t animated at all.

The first time I saw it, I was confused. It just seemed like a guy with a camera-phone following this cute girl in a skirt. But then this guy came out of nowhere and pulled up her skirt and yanked down her panties! She made this cute little “Eeeee!” noise while the guy ran off. It was so cute, and so funny, and so super hot! I figured that video had to be one of a kind, but boy was I wrong!

Apparently it’s called “sharking.” I never quite found a satisfactory explanation for the name, but it started in Japan (just like all the best pervy stuff!), and the idea is to run up to a girl and expose her while somebody else films and puts it online for everyone to enjoy! There’s all kinds of varieties. Top-sharking works best when you find a girl in a tube-top and you can pull her boobs out. Bottom-sharking works best for girls in a short skirt; and if you’re really lucky, you might find a girl who isn’t wearing panties! There’s even cosplay-sharking! That’s when you steal all of a girl’s clothes and run off with them, but you leave her a super cute, slutty outfit that she has to wear if she doesn’t want to walk home naked. Personally, just regular full-sharking is my favorite. That’s when you strip a girl naked and run off with her clothes while the camera guy follows her while she figures out what to do. It’s so exciting! I mean, at first the girl thinks it’s just going to be a regular boring old day, but then she gets to be part of this awesome sexy adventure where she’s naked in public! And nobody can even get upset at her because it’s not even her fault! Everybody wins!

I should know, I’m proud to say that I’m one of the few girls who’s been on both sides. You see, after I graduated high school, I got my parents to finally agree to pay for me to take a year off to visit Japan! It was everything I ever dreamed! I was surrounded by signs displaying happy anime characters, I got to ride public transit with groups of cute, giggly school girls and handsome, studious schoolboys. There were night-clubs with lolita-goths and J-pop was playing everywhere!

The only thing that could have made it better was if I could have had a romantic encounter with a cute boy. I think everyone who visits a foreign country kinda wishes that they could have a special lover to think back on fondly when they’re old and grey. Unfortunately, no matter how many blind corners I hurried around, I never accidentally collided with my true love. Not even when I had toast in my mouth!

I figured maybe I still dressed too much like a kid, and boys were scared that I was under-aged. So I decided to show off my assets! While I was far from flat-chested in America, in Japan my full C-cup breasts made me downright busty. And the Brazilian butt I inherited from mom put me way ahead of at least ninety percent of the other girls in Japan. So I got some new button up shirts that were small enough to hug my curves, and I left a few buttons undone. I also bought new mini-skirts short enough to ensure my panties would be visible with even the slightest breeze. Everybody in Japan is really into panties.

Unfortunately, most of the male attention I got from the new wardrobe was from middle-aged men who took advantage of crowded trains to touch my butt. But I wasn’t about to get discouraged! I mean, it’s not ideal, but if I’m getting attention, than I must be on the right track!

And then one day it happened! I was in a public park a short walk from where I was staying. I had my headphones on, listening to my Japanese language-learning app when this guy came out of nowhere and yanked my little school-girl skirt up to my waist and then pulled my white panties down to my knees!

I always thought that if I ever got sharked myself, that I’d do something really sexy, like wink or do a little pose or something. But honestly, the whole thing happened really fast so I hardly had a chance to react. And I didn’t even see where the camera guy was. I was just sort of… frozen. I just stood there with my panties halfway down my legs as the guy in the hoodie ran off.

A part of me thought that I wished I’d been more prepared for it, but on the other hand, that’s part of the fun! Unlike most Japanese girls, I keep everything totally shaved down there, so they definitely got a shot of my naked pussy. And there were going to put it online! How exciting is that! Once I pulled my panties back up they immediately got soaked. I felt like I’d just won the best prize ever! Now any-time somebody is looking at sharking videos on the internet, there would be a chance that they’d get to see me! I just hoped that the camera guy was good enough that I’d be popular.

I spent the next week looking at sharking videos more than I ever had before, but sadly, I still couldn’t find mine! I knew it would take time, but I just couldn’t wait. Part of me hoped that it’d go viral. Maybe it’d become the most popular sharking video of all time, and I’d get to be the poster-girl for the whole fetish! I’d be so famous that when people saw me in the street they’d yank up my dress and take pictures of my exposed body while I pretended to blush. I mean, I knew it wasn’t likely, but a girl can dream!

After a week of looking at every sharking related site I could I eventually came across this post written in Japanese that looked like it was a local casting call for a girl to be in a video! They must have been a really bad writer, because I could hardly understand it and my Japanese is perfect! I mean, I watched One Punch Man without subtitles and totally understood every word…. well most of them… I mean, at least half…

…

Let’s get one thing straight! I’m a Japanese girl so I obviously speak Japanese! They must have been speaking a weird dialect and that’s why I didn’t understand them that well, okay?!?

Anyway, the post said they wanted a girl to be in a sharking video, and I knew I wanted to be that girl. In all the videos I saw, it was always boys running up and exposing unsuspecting women. I’ve never seen girl-on-girl sharking! What a concept!

After a few messages back and forth, I ended up meeting them at this cute cafe by the beach. That’s when I got really excited! Bikini sharking is one of the best ways to get a girl totally naked in public! I’ve even seen it done where a guy gets two girls tops and bottoms off at once!

I didn’t catch the camera guy’s name, but the one who did most of the talking was named Kaito. I started asking them if there were any special techniques I should know so I could undo a girl’s bikini faster, but they seemed confused. I don’t know how, but there must have been a miscommunication. It seemed like they wanted to me to go somewhere private and stage a fake sharking. They said they were going to make sure to do it where no one would see me and they’d give me my clothes back at the end!

What a cheap trick! I told them that there’s no way. Either they have to shark me for real or I was going home!

I was pretty mad, so I laid out my terms and made sure they knew that there would be no negotiation! One: They had to strip me completely naked! Boobs, ass, pussy, it all had to be on display. Two: They had to do it someplace where lots of people would see. Three: sometimes in the really good sharking videos the guys would spread a girls legs or pull her butt-cheeks apart while the camera guy runs in close, that way everybody on the internet gets a good look at her vagina and butthole. I told them they had to do that, too! And four: Under no circumstances were they allowed to give me my clothes back or let me have anything to cover myself with afterwards.

If I was getting to be part of planning a sharking video, I was going to make sure it was the best one ever! There was no way I was going home unless it was completely naked!

Kaito and his friend whispered to each other for a minute, and then they asked me if I’d be willing to ditch some of my clothes in advance so that they could get me naked faster. Finally! They were saying something that made sense! And honestly, they had a point. I’m ashamed to admit that before that day I used to dress in a terribly un-sharkable way. Ever since then, the only question I ask when choosing an outfit was “How easy would it be for someone to get me naked in public?”

Anyway, I slipped away into a public bathroom to ditch my shirt, bra, and underwear. So now I was just wearing the zippered hoodie I put on when I thought I was going to get to shark a girl, and my mini-skirt. I told the guys that I was going to try to find a place off to the side of the boardwalk, far enough so that nobody could intervene, but close enough that everybody could still see my naked body.

I waited there for about five minutes, and I was starting to think they had gotten scared off, but then I saw the one with the camera sneaking up around the corner of a nearby building. I tried not to look directly at him, but I still wanted my front-side facing the camera.

My heart started racing as I heard Kaito coming up behind me! They must have been discussing technique, because he grabbed the bottom of my skirt and yanked it up until it gathered along with the hem of my hoodie. In an expertly practiced maneuver that seemed almost like a matador with a cape, he swept both garments up over my head and then down off my arms!

Suddenly, I was standing in the middle of a wide open public space in the middle of the day and I was completely naked! The sun seemed like a spotlight that shone down to reveal every private inch of my body.

Kaito tossed my hoodie and skirt and then grabbed my arms to bend me over a nearby bench. That’s when I saw the camera guy running in close while I felt his hands on my butt-cheeks. He reached down to the very bottom and spread everything open wide. The camera guy got in so close he must have been within a foot or two of my most private areas! I sure was glad that I’d shaved that morning; I mean, with the close-up he got of my pussy and asshole, everyone on the internet would have seen if I had even the tiniest bit of stubble.

I’d almost forgot! This was going on the internet! My heart was racing and I wasn’t sure if it was from fear or excitement. As scary as the whole thing was, I was still getting really wet really fast! I hoped that that camera could pick that up so that everyone would see how much girls like this kind of thing! I sort of moaned and wiggled a little bit, but then the two of them ran off. Thankfully they remembered to grab my clothes on the way, so that I wouldn’t have the option to cover myself!

I stood up to see two middle-aged ladies running up to me and yelling something at the men. I must have looked freaked out because they seemed a bit confused and frantic, like they wanted to help me but didn’t know how. Honestly, I was a little freaked out, too, but it was in a good way! Like when you ride a roller-coaster. Like, it’s really exciting and so scary that you scream but it’s also really fun! When I think back on it, I’m pretty sure I actually did scream when he first came up behind me and pulled all my clothes off.

The shorter lady had a jacked that she was unbuttoning, I realized that she was going to try to cover me up! What a prude! She must have just been jealous that a pretty young thing like me was getting to walk around naked in public and show off the goods when she was never brave enough to do anything like that!

I decided I was going to rush off down the boardwalk before she got a chance. I was still super nervous and excited. My heart felt like it was pounding in my throat and I was out of breath from the thrill of it all.

I had the temptation to cover myself with my hands, but I half-resisted. I must have looked kinda shy because I kept sort of covering my pussy, and then half-covering my boobs, and then I put both hands behind me to cover my butt. So anyone who kept looking for more than a second would have seen everything. And there were people everywhere, so even if I wanted to cover myself (which I totally didn’t), there was no way I could have.

I kinda figured that everyone would be staring at me and taking pictures and commenting on my body; I hoped that by the time I made it a hundred meters that I’d have a whole crowd of men around me, but honestly, no one said a thing! Some people glanced, and now and then someone would stare for a few seconds, but the majority of people averted their eyes and just pretended I wasn’t there!

They seemed almost… scared to look at me. This was even better than I could have imagined! I mean, at first I was a little disappointed that people weren’t excited to take in the sight of my naked, young body, but then I realized something! It wasn’t just fun and sexy to be naked in public, it also felt kinda… powerful!

Once I realized that, I stopped acting shy. I stopped trying to cover myself at all. In fact, I slowed down my stride and put on a cocky grin. By the time I reached the end of the boardwalk I was staring people right in the eye, but nobody had the guts to look back at me.

It was about a ten-minute walk back to where I was staying, but I decided I was going to make it take fifteen! There was even a spot where a dozen people were waiting for a train, and I decided to stand in front of all of them and check my phone for a good two minutes! Fortunately, I had the foresight to stick my phone, wallet, and apartment key in my sock before I had those guys steal all my clothes. I made sure to bend down in front of everybody when I took my phone out so they could have a chance to admire my naked butt.

I hoped that at least someone noticed how wet this was making me! I mean, I was starting to literally drip down the inside of my leg! I figured I’d better make my way home before my socks end up getting soaked.

When I got home I retrieved my apartment key from my sock and saw my neighbor coming home with a bag of groceries. I smiled and gave him a big wave, but he acted like he couldn’t see me. I unlocked my door and went inside.

The first thing I did was down a can of green tea, as fun as the whole walk was, my mouth was dry as a desert. As much as I enjoyed myself, it was nerve-wracking. The whole time I was sort of afraid the police were going to show up any minute, but that never happened.

All in all, the whole thing was way different than I expected. I guess that since I’m a perv, I expected that everyone else would be one, too. But everybody else was so well behaved. So I guess that makes me special!

Realizing that I was a pervert who walks around naked in public and gets off on exposing myself to strangers was the best moment of my life. It made me feel like I could do things that regular people couldn’t. Kaito sent me the video of my full-sharking the next day. Apparently, they had followed me almost all the way home without me even realizing it! They sure got some amazing shots and I’m proud to say that it has over a hundred-thousand views and counting.

I never found out the name of the guy who pulled my panties down that first day in the park. But a couple years later when I met Piper she’d tracked down the original video of me that he made. I posted a thank-you message in the comments telling him how grateful I was that he chose me, and how he changed my life for the better.

Ya know, it’s funny. Of all the girls that I’ve exposed in public and put online since that day, not a single one has posted a ‘thank-you’ message to me under their videos. Then again, I don’t do this for thanks, I do it for the knowledge that I’m helping others live the life that every girl wants! I’m helping them to be the perverts that deep down they all definitely wish they could be!

#pervertpentet sharkingsherry

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everyonesonthespectrum · 4 years

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30 days of Autism Acceptance: Day 3!

April 3: Talk about special interests. Do you have any? What are they? How long have you had them? What does it feel like to have special interests? What does having special interests mean to you? Talk about your past special interests

HOO BOY! Ok, I’ll try not to go on too long about my special interests, but I have a lot to say about them! Also, some of my special interests are in this weird grey area of “are they a SpIn or a hyperfixation?”, so I’ll cover those as well, and make it noted when that’s the case for one. Also, this will be VERY LONG, so I’ll put it under a cut.

SpIn #1 - Pokemon

Pokemon has been my main special interest since I was 9, I believe! Black was my first game that I got for my birthday, and I was super happy to get it since all of my friends at the time would talk about it! I’ve gotten (almost?) every major release since then, thought I usually only get one out of the two versions.

The Pokemon games that I have are *inhales*: Black, Black 2, HeartGold (got a few years after it came out), X (I have the limited edition 3DS), Alpha Sapphire, Moon (first completed Pokedex!), Ultra Moon (haven’t beat and probably never will), Let’s Go, Eevee!, Sword (still trying to beat), Conquest, Art Academy, PMD: Gates to Infinity, Picross, Rumble World, Battle Trozei, Pokemon Quest, Pokemon Playhouse (for when I’m regressed), Poke Park 1 & 2, My Pokemon Ranch, and Battle Revolution!

I also used to play the TCG competitively, and in my first competition, I placed 9th in my division! I stopped playing about a year after that though because the cards I used in my strategy when I would practice with my Dad were too old to be viable.

I have a growing stuffie and merch collection as well! I have a lot of Unova stuffies, and a print of the Unova map that I got at a ren faire when I was younger (it currently hangs above my dresser)! My two favorite stuffies at this time are Baby my Eevee Build-A-Bear (named after my Eevee in Let’s Go, Eevee!), and Lily my Wooloo! I have a couple of Pokemon sketch cards that friends of my Dad’s drew, and some prints and figure-y things I’ve gotten in Artist Alleys over the years!

I also own a couple of different Pokemon books (not the manga, though), and 2 of the movies, along with the OSTs for B/W, X/Y, and ORAS! I don’t have much as far as clothing goes though, except for my “Gotta Catch ‘Em All” scarf and a Pikachu hat I got at an old anime store at the mall that has since closed. That’s probably all I can remember right now!

SpIn #2 - Steam Powered Giraffe

SPG has been a special interest for about 4 years now? Anyway, they’re my #1 favorite band and have literally saved my life. Watching Bunny Bennett’s (who plays Rabbit) vlogs about her transition, along with listening to the song Transform that she wrote (waaay before they just made it a single) really helped me accept myself and come out.

They also came at a time where I was struggling emotionally a lot, and I remember being stuck in the ER hooked up to an IV, and my mom played some of their albums for me to keep me calm and grounded. More recently, I saw them perform at Anime Midwest last year, and when they performed Transform (which neither me or my friends expected), we were all hugging each other and crying tears of joy (my friends are trans as well, and have also been touched by Bunny’s vlogs).

Their songs (not including the sad ones) make me really happy as well, and Make Believe makes me stim a lot in particular! I also got to sing Honeybee as part of a voice coaching summer camp I took last year, and it felt really good to do it! I really recommend listening to them, especially if you like steampunk and/or you’re looking for trans artists to support!

SpIn #3 - Little Shop of Horrors

So this is more of a fairly recent one, compared to the first two. This special interest mostly applies to the 1986 movie, but I’ve seen the stage musical as well! The music, the cast, the plot, it’s all *chef’s kiss*. But for real though, my two favorite things about the movie are the practical effects and the endings.

With the CGI fresh hell we got with CATS, you may thing, “wow, special effects were so much better back then”. Except here’s the thing, they were practical effects. Audrey II is (I believe) entirely puppetry, not CGI. The same applies for the musical as well! It really culminated at the end of the film during “Mean Green Mother from Outer Space”, when Audrey II is at it’s biggest and most elaborate. Speaking of that scene, I much prefer the director’s cut over the theatrical cut. I know that the happy ending is much better for Audrey and Seymour, but “Don’t Feed The Plants” is an absolute banger, and I get a good cry out of it too.

I heard they might be making a remake of the movie, which I’m hesitant about, again, seeing how CATS turned out. We can only hope that they listen to the fans, and make the right decisions when it comes to making it.

SpIn #4 - Jojo’s Bizarre Adventure

Ok, so this is one of those aformentioned “is it a SpIn or a hyperfixation” moments. I’ve been hyperfixated on JJBA for the past 6 months and I’m physically unable to shut up about it XD

I’m about to start watching part 4 of the anime, I just need to set aside time to do it. I watched it a tad out of order, my ex told me to skip part 1 and watch a synopsis of it, so I started with part 2 (I’m a huge part 2 stan btw), got to part 3, was confused by everything going on with DIO, so I went back, watched part 1, and then resumed part 3.

As I mentioned, I’m a huge part 2 stan, so I currently have several part 2 character cosplays in the works. This includes (but isn’t limited to) Caesar, Suzi Q, Playboy Bunny Caesar (inspired by a piece of art that @tinypalettes drew), Tequila Joseph (but like,, actually decent drag), and Cleric Suzi Q from the JJBA D&D session me and my friends are having. I also want to do a drag/latex DIO look, along with maid DIO inspired by an old JUMP cover and a fanfic I read the other day.

I get a little nervous about doing/going to JJBA events at conventions because I’m worried about running into my ex, but knowing that I have supportive people with me helps a lot.

SpIn #5 - Homestuck/Hiveswap

So this is another one of those “SpIn or hyperfixation” moments as well. I’ve been into Homestuck since late 2016, but I’ve never been super involved in the fandom. Like, yes, I have a moirail and I’ve been in and hosted panels at conventions, but I’ve encountered some toxic people in it, so I try to distance myself.

I will say, however, that Homestucks are loyal to their fandom, and will buy merch if they like it. When I say that, yes, I mean myself, but it’s mostly about my Etsy customers. If you look at my sales history, the majority of it is quadrant necklaces, almost always the moirail ones. I get some orders for horns and pillows too, but not as often as the necklaces. When it comes to exhibiting at conventions, it depends. I normally don’t put Homestuck stuff out on the table because it’s such a niche, but when I do, people will usually buy a lot at once. For example, at Wizard World Madison in 2018, one guy bought $50-60 worth of Homestuck sprites from me. That weekend was the best I’ve ever done, and I haven’t come close since. My Etsy store started out as just me making Homestuck sprites for me and my friends too, so I’m glad that I was able to expand and give others what I like as well.

I’m also involved in a Hiveswap YouTube musical, and I’ve made a lot of good friends through it! We’re on hiatus right now, but we should be starting up again soon! I also have a lot of Homestuck cosplays! I’ve done Karkat, John, Jade, Nepeta, Trickster Nepeta, Karkat Peixes (a bloodswap), and I have a lot more that I want to do!

SpIn #6 - Danganronpa

So Danganronpa is (probably) one of those last “SpIn or hyperfixation” things. I’ve been into Danganronpa since 2018 (I think?), and DR:AE is my favorite (mostly because I’m a Kotoko and Toko kinnie oof-)!

Right now, my only Danganronpa cosplay is Toko/Syo, but I’m working on a couple of j-fashion (particularly menhera and fairy kei) inspired looks to do with my moirail (who was the one who got me into j-fashion), and just some Amazon/eBay cosplays as well! I’m also working on a Future Foundation Toko cosplay to do with my moirail so we can do Tokomaru together (though most of it is thrifting and clothes I already have)!

I own DR1, SDR2, and DR:AE on my computer, but I don’t play them much. The second trial in DR1 gives me panic attacks because of the whole breaking of trust thing (I’ve heard the audios and I just,,, break down), I haven’t touched SDR2 yet, and I’m sucky at the controls for DR:AE. However, I’ve watched the anime and I’ve seen let’s plays, so I have a feel for what’s going on, though I may not remember it all correctly since I haven’t watched them in a while.

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So that’s most (if not all) of my special interests! I probably forgot some, but it’s getting late and I need to pack for my Mom’s and go to bed. I hope you all have a good night!

#30daysofautismacceptance #2020 #autism #autistic #actually autistic #autistic characters #autistic character of the day

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limitless-rose · 5 years

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The Signs as things I wanted to be when I grow up

[This has literally been in my drafts since December because I wasn't sure if each option matched with the sign I chose but whatever (it's also a long post again, oof)

Also I didn't really post anything related to 2020 so... Happy New Year, let's hope something good will happen this decade!! 💖]

♈ Aries: Be part of the army. I was quite fascinated by the idea of guns and protecting the nation and actually getting my life together. I was actually thinking about it for quite a while until I realized that in order to get accepted (at least according to the Greek system) you need to have excellent grades (especially maths/physics), to be taller that 165cm and to be excellent in sports. Guess what, I don't understand physics/science/chemistry, I've been about 158cm for the past 3 years and the only two sports I'm good at are badminton and tennis (while you need to be good at running, swimming and things like that I guess 😕)

✧

♉ Taurus: A chef/baker. Cooking and baking always seemed pretty fun. I would always sit by my grandma whenever she cooked/baked goodies and observe the whole process. I also got inspired by the movies "The Princess and the Frog" and "Ratatouille" and thought that one day I could possibly come up with my own recipes and open my own restaurant. But while growing up I realized that I can't cook properly when I'm stressed/multi-tasking (I'm capable of burning the food AND the kitchen if I get slightly distracted, ooof)

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♊ Gemini: A TV presenter or a weather woman. My mom told me that from the age of three I would always pretend to talk to an audience and answer questions from the callers or announce news/talk about the weather. Maybe that explains why I talk to thin air (as if I was a YouTuber) about anything and everything when I'm alone. Though it sounds cool, I don't really think I could do it now because I have social anxiety.

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♋ Cancer: A writer. I really like writing, I don't know why. Authors have been inspiring me since my childhood, I remember I used to read so many books and try to write something of my own based on it. 😅 I like taking notes and then re-writing them more neatly. I like re-doing old homework in a different style and see if I have improved. I really like writing in a diary/a bullet journal too, I feel like it's much better than bothering others with my problems anyway. I also love coming up with random scenarios/stories/characters and writing about it but I don't know if I should share it. Idk, sometimes I feel like my writing is a bit boring or that it's nothing that impressive. So, honestly, if more people took writers seriously instead of thinking it's a hobby as it doesn't always pay well (when did the world even start revolving around money that much, oml) and if I was more confident about my work I'd definitely chose to become a writer/author (I'm still keeping it as a hobby no matter what I end up doing, lol).

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♌ Leo: A model. Omg, I honestly don't know why I even thought of it. Probably because I really liked watching ANTM when I was younger (and I specifically chose the American version because the one we have in my country makes me cringe a lot, just hearing girls from my school talking about it is painful). My friends also liked the outfits that I put together or how I would always pose for pictures (a few years ago, I'm too awkward now asdfghjkl). Looking at it now it's just so funny. There's literally so much competition in the name of beauty, the community can get kinda toxic sometimes and the standards are pretty high. Also I'm way too short and I still can't walk like a normal person when wearing high heels lol.

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♍ Virgo: A teacher. Specifically, a teacher for elementary or even kindergarten. Back then, the concept of teaching seemed pretty fun to me and I had lots of ideas about how to make class more interesting. The thing is that I have good chemistry with most kids and I actually kinda dislike teenagers because of how rebellious we can get when it comes to school (idk but like teens in my country are like pretty rude to everyone 😐). I'm not so sure about it now, though it's still an option.

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♎ Libra: A psychologist. I always liked helping others out and offering advice when they're having a tough time and I was also curious to see what makes each person feel angry, sad or stressed and the way they respond. It's also interesting because you can learn a lot about someone's personality, preferences and way of thinking or understand what caused someone to commit a crime. I still really like psychology and it's one of my main options for uni. The only problem is that psychology is pretty much overrated in my country so people say it's best to choose something else. 😒

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♏ Scorpio: A criminologist. And, surprisingly, I still want it. I was always intrigued by things that required research, was interesting in learning what caused a murder/crime to be committed and I would always watch crime thrillers with my dad. I also like it because it's a field of Sociology which is one of my favorite subjects. I'm just hoping finals aren't super difficult so I can get accepted in the college that I want on the first try lol.

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♐ Sagittarius: A flight attendant. Back then I found it kinda fun, as I was always curious about what going on a plane is like. It could also be because of their outfits (like the ones you see in movies or in Britney's MV for Toxic, idk why 😅). Plus I would get to travel around the world without paying as much as the passengers. But then, at the age of 14-15 I got on an airplane 4 times and I saw that it wasn't really like the movies and that literally everyone ignored the flight attendant so yeah, it's not an option anymore. ✈️

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♑ Capricorn: A fashion designer. So because I would always draw and constantly ask for new crayons/markers and other art supplies, my mom bought me a few coloring books that focused on fashion. It came along with stickers, stencils, ideas for Victorian dressses, advice for how to design lace or mermaid tail dresses and I was so impressed. A few years later, my grandma showed me a few dresses that she had made for my mom when she was younger (which were so gorgeous like I'm definitely going to wear one of them on my graduation day) and taught me sewing. I also got to see these small floral designs that you usually see on lingerie and it was so pretty, I wish I could do it as perfectly as her. I decided to follow my grandma's advice and keep it as a hobby instead (because she ended up doing nothing but designing clothes and repairing them which she regrets 🧵🧶).

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♒ Aquarius: An astronaut. This was pretty random, I have to admit. I guess I really liked space and looking at at the stars in the night sky. I read a few books about space and learned a few things about NASA back in elementary too, though I realized that it's something I could never really do, as you have to sacrifice a lot. I'm still fascinated by this profession but there's no way I could ever do it, since I can't even understand basic physics or mathematics. 🤷‍♀️

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♓ Pisces: An artist. Honestly I didn't really care if most artists didn't get recognition/fame or if they didn't earn enough money, I just wanted to make art because I liked it. It's also fun because while you are expressing your thoughts through an art piece, another person might interpret it differently, based on their likings and thoughts. Art also plays an active role in my life: I've been drawing and painting since I was 5 and I would always watch the show with Bob Ross on TV with my grandma. Instead of completely giving up on this idea, I thought that I could choose another profession (also my family didn't really like the thought of me doing art for a living 😐) and keep art as a hobby.

#astrology #zodiac #aries #taurus #gemini #cancer #leo #virgo #libra #scorpio #sagittarius #capricorn #aquarius #pisces #me and my thoughts #yeah idk #for fun ig #at least for me #random

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