#i liked the coloring i did for this up until i added the dots bc i feel like i waited too long ajdfhjadsfa

[saturnsickle]

@shimeji-week

🍄 Day 2: Idol: Backstage | Performance | After Party

[highabovethecloudssomewhere]

tips/resources that taught me how to Art as an Adult - a masterlist

Four years ago I decided that “I’m too old to learn how to draw” is a pointless lie I’d believed for too long and you’re never too old to learn something new. I still definitely consider myself a novice and a learner but I’m at a very happy place with my art and I’m having a ton of fun so I thought I’d pass along the tips/resources that helped me get started and kept me motivated. 

I’ll get into resources under the cut, but here are personal tips I lined up for myself that helped during the early stages of frustration and wanting to give up. obviously they won’t work for everyone, but they really kept me going

fill 14 sketchbooks. if you still want to give up after that you can (I’m currently at 13 sketchbooks and could not imagine ever letting it go)

what specifically do you want to be able to draw? For me my goal has always been characters and cats. I’ve added things to it here and there, but starting out overwhelmed with how much you don’t know isn’t great. find a handful of things you really want to draw and see where it takes you.

get yourself a sketchbook fancy enough that you feel cool as heck but cheap enough that you don’t mind absolutely destroying it. Personally, I love EXCEED bullet journals. the dotted paper keeps me from being too picky but are less intrusive than lined paper. From my experience, EXCEED bullet journals takes acrylic and ink like a champ, and they’ve got nice covers that just make you “feel” cool. confidence is important!

acrylic paint and post-it notes are great ways to cover mistakes. I personally love anything that makes my sketchbooks feel “sketchbooky” so this is super fun. 

it is okay to “waste”/”ruin” pages. one time I was in “I’m a failure” artblock and so I poured black coffee onto my sketchbook. (it was gonna get dumped out anyway and I was Very frustrated with my art.) then when the pages dried I just kept right along using it. taught me a lot about not being perfect. sketchbooks are about learning and love, not about perfection.

try drawing in pen. seriously, draw in pen. it’s scary as frick to not be able to go back on mistakes but that’s what the post-it acrylic-paint tip is for, and it’ll help with all sorts of stuff like lineweight and line confidence. it takes some of the stress off too because, you screw up? oh well! Try again! it encourages “try again” over “meticulously nitpick until it’s perfect” and has done wonders for me. I started out my first two sketchbooks in pencil before making the switch and I’ve never gone back. 

(also sketching in highlighter and lining with pen is super fun and cool and satisfying!)

the first page doesn’t matter. I usually just use the first page of the sketchbook to write my favorite songs at the time and then do the same thing on the last page. first page jitters begone. 

(starting in the middle of the sketchbook also gets rid of those jitters pretty nicely. I tried this a couple times and personally still prefer the linear front-to-back but it was fun for a while.)

picking a color theme for your sketchbook can make it feel more “sketchbooky” too. I usually go with blue or orange- blue acrylic paint, blue post-it notes, those cheap blue BIC pens, etc. I like this bc it makes the sketchbook feel like a sketchbook and is very satisfying.

And figure out why you’re doing it. I did it because I always wanted to make cool art and draw my characters, but if you’re doing it for a career then obviously the path to that looks much different. Don’t compare yourself to others. Be inspired by people who are better than you. Acknowledge where you need to grow and where you’re strongest. Lean into those strengths. Adapt to those weaknesses. Be proud of being a beginner- you won’t be one for long. 

Now: some of my favorite creatives and resources!

///

CREATORS:

"Kasey Golden" Mostly traditional art, mostly watercolor, cartoonist, art challenges

"DrawingWiffWaffles" Mostly traditional art, alcohol markers & pens, semi-realism

"LavenderTowne" Digital art, art tips/tutorials, cartoonist

"ABD Illustrates" Digital art, speedpaints, semi-realism

"Proko" (or "Stan Prokopenko") Realism, anatomy tutorials, free complete "Anatomy For Artists" series- basically as hogwild as you can get learning hyper-realistic anatomy

"Ethan Becker" Digital art, ex-DreamWorks employee, tips/tutorials, "Perfect Practice"

"Sinix Design" Digital art, anatomy tips/tutorials, general tips/tutorials, realist

"Oliver's Antics" Digital and traditional art, tips/tutorials, speedpaints, semi-realistic style

“Nerdforge” Traditional art, painting, metalwork, woodwork, bookbinding, building, seriously these people do everything they’re incredible

///

FOR GESTURE DRAWING:

Line of Action Gesture drawing, figure drawing, optional timed practice sessions

AdorkaStock fantastic line of unique reference poses

 ///

Aaand that’s about all I’ve got! there are so many resources out there and so many amazing artists to be inspired by. just have fun with art! art is freedom. be proud to be a beginner and be excited for how you’ll grow. I hope these tips are helpful for someone out there! <3 

Here’s my first digital artwork (April 2019) up against my latest (August 2022)

April 2019:

August 2022:

best of luck to you all. I believe in each and every one of you. <3 happy drawing!

[artistsfuneral]

Can we please get pictures of the new buji, Nikki? Prettty please? x🌸

I got another Ottergami B5 180gsm !!! 🌼✨

When you look it up on Amazon, the cover of the new one looks very orange, so initially I wasn't sure if I wanted it in that color, but then I saw it on another blog and realized that it's actually a really pretty earth tone (a bit brighter than in my pic) and I really like it!

The dots are a bit darker this time, which I'm not a fan of, but it's not obnoxiously dark and if the page is filled it doesn't stand out so much, so I can overlook that 😂

I won't start using it until July, since I still need to fill up the rest of my current bujo, but I already did the first few pages and am super happy with how it turned out!

I chose a rather simple design, since I want the first pages not to be overwhelming, so it's mostly black and white, with some red/orange tones to fit with the earthy tones of the journal itself. Drawing the flowers was super fun!!!

Do you know Amanda Rach Lee? She does/did the yearly overview like that and I really wanted to try it out. Kind of follows the Dutch door idea and makes the calendar look like a little booklet. I was very nervous when I started this bc there's just so many ways to mess that up and halfway through I was lowkey panicking bc I didn't like how it looked, but as soon as I added the numbers and the flowers I was glad that I did it. 🤸🏼

And the last thing I did to kind of round up the theme of the orange flowers was one last quote page and an index page that slowly leads away from the orange and to more neutral tones.

The quote is a poem by perry poetry (almost always use those, they're amazing) that had a positive, uplifting feel. Perfect for starting a new bujo 🥰

[ink-the-artist]

Its a lot harder to do with traditional art but I'd love to see progress shots of your colored pencil stuff its so neat

I wanted to wait until I had progress shots to show before answering this and I took some as soon as I was starting a new colored pencil illustration, which was the Pepto Bismol one I just posted. Gonna put a keep reading cut here bc this’ll probably be a bit of a long post lol. 

I don’t have any kind of strict process I always follow, I just do whatever works best for each specific drawing, so I kind of just took a pic whenever I finished anything that felt like it could be it’s own “step.” Also keep in mind I worked on this during different days, different times of day, and different locations, so the lighting will be pretty different throughout the pics here which will affect how the colors look and the overall quality of the photos, I did the best I could with the changing lighting.

First step is the graphite sketch. Since I’m focusing on the colored pencil part of the process I didn’t document the process of sketching, just the final outcome

I go over the sketch with a colored pencil, I usually use a lighter color so that the lines you’ll see in the next step are lighter and not going to be noticeable when the drawing is all done, and I’ll go with a color that would be found in the illustration so that it doesn’t look unnatural wherever it may show through (I chose pink because, Pepto Bismol)

then I go over the whole thing with an eraser, only the graphite erases completely while the colored pencil stays, even though it dulls a bit. This is so I can still have a sort of outline to color in without having to worry about graphite mixing with the lighter color pencil colors and muddying everything up (it also just cleans up the sketch a lot which makes everything easier to work with)

then I start putting some of the colors down while also adding some basic detail that I’ll color and shade along later. I also go over the lines again just to make sure everything is shaped correctly, but I’m using the base colors of whatever the object is because I don’t actually want things to have outlines later on

I’m kind of mapping out the colors now as well as shadows

(also I finally found a use for this super bright neon pink colored pencil I have lol)

I’m basically just continuously layering on more color and detail, making sure to go light to dark. I mostly work on everything evenly rather than meticulously finishing one area after another but I was a bit more meticulous with the pepto bismol tablets just because they were the most detailed part of the illustration

I pretty much color the borzoi last because it’s the one white thing in this image and I want it to sort of “reflect” all the colors that will be around it and you can see I’m still adding new colors to the background as I go along

adding some green, Im basically trying to get a black without using black by layering opposing (is that the right word?) colors over each other, it makes it so that the black still looks like a natural part of the image because it’s made up of the colors in it, and it gradients toward the foreground better. I’m also doing the same for the nose and lips of the borzoi

finally putting some more color down on the borzoi, both giving it a base color and making the shading more defined

added the pepto splash before I layer any more color on the background. Also in just about every step here I’m continuously touching up the pepto bismol tablets, maybe a bit too obsessively

adding more colors from the background to the borzoi as well as shading it some more

adding more green (and some dark blue) to the background and floor to darken it some more, and again to the borzoi

I blend some of the lighter areas with orange-yellow, dunno if this is a real technique I just like the kind of glow effect it has and I do it a lot in my drawings (basically layering light colors over dark ones and sort of pressing harder with the strokes to blend/smooth everything together while giving it an almost glowing undertone of that light color)

still layering colors to darken everything up

Only at the very end I use a white colored pencil, I haven’t used it at all so far. I give the borzoi it’s fur texture + its whiskers, basically using the same method as earlier when I blended the yellow into darker colors by pressing harder with the strokes, here the strokes are just fur-shaped. I also add some highlights to the metal bowls, the splash of pepto bismol, and the nose and mouth of the borzoi with white colored pencil and a tiiiiny bit of white gel pen (a really tiny bit, basically a few little dots here and there)

oh and I added the “Pepto Bismol” writing to the pepto bismol tablets (or as close to writing as I could get)

also at some point in this step a mysterious black line appeared on the drawing that I couldn’t get rid of :( but its ok I just removed it in photoshop later lol

then I just take as good a pic as I can and touch it up in photoshop, this is for getting rid of flaws like that weird black line as well as to make the photo resemble what the drawing looks like irl as closely as possible, I’ll usually have the drawing next to me so I can reference it while editing the photo to make sure it looks like the real thing. 

also in this step I usually crop the image both to hide the messy edges and to give it a better composition.

you can see how different all these pics look from each other (in terms of lighting and quality) let alone from the final piece, which is why the editing step is important lol

hope this is helpful!

[king-maven-calore]

5,6 or 7. Angst. Mareven

ok ok, so I had to be in the right state of mind to write this, sorry for the delay. This fits as part of a fic/request that I started writing and may never finish bc damn it hurts so much.

This is uhm... marecal fam y'all should keep your distance🚫🚫

Some days were easier than others. Wasn’t that the way of life? Some days Mare’s figure was a mere shadow at the corner of his eye, disappearing whenever he tried to focus on her. Others, she would linger, muttering snide comments at the Cygnet’s handle of political affairs. Needless to say, she had a great deal of disdain for them. Being married to Iris, he had a right to attend the meetings where such matters were discussed. He wasn’t trusted enough to have an opinion though.

Maven was a prisoner in all but name, in a foreign nation, doomed to roam the halls of The Royelle, chased at every minute of every hour by the ghost of the woman he loved. The dead woman he loved... because he had killed her. Tricky how that worked, that her ghost had chased away the echo of his mother’s voice inside his head, and instead made it her task to torture him.

“You know that plan will only get silvers killed and red deserters for the Scarlet Guard,” Mare chirped with a bounce to her step.

‘Task’ wasn’t the right word, when she enjoyed torturing him so thoroughly. If this was his punishment, it was also her paradise.

“Acute observation,” he sneered, keeping his head down until he reached his chambers. “Thank you for stating the obvious.”

Word on the Lakelander court was that he was mad. A fallen king who often got caught talking to empty air and gazed at nothing, full of longing and loathing in equal measure.

“Obvious, and still you kept your mouth shut.” Her tone changed to scolding and she materialized right in front of him. “You could’ve stopped this.” Her eyes the color of trees in autumn, dead and cold, drilled holes in his.

He sidestepped her and kept walking at a brisk pace. Days such as these, when he could see her so clearly, he could also touch her. It was never a pleasant sensation. Today she looked the same way she had when he branded her in Harbor Bay; hair in a tight braid that fell over her shoulder the braid had come undone when she’d wriggled in pain on the floor when he used Cal’s torture device on her. She was wearing unassuming jeans and a shirt he’d moved out of the way so easily to burn the M on her skin. The spot was unscarred now. A pity. No matter how many times he re-branded the letter, she would just show up without it the next day.

Taunting him. Daring him to commit his sin all over again. Well, joke was on her. A tiny part of him would always sing at seeing her writhing on the ground beneath his hand, it was proof he could too, make her feel something.

“I couldn’t stop anything. They won’t listen to me.”

Maven closed the door of his chambers behind him and started yanking off the layers of heavy black clothes covering his frame until he was in his pants and shirt. It was getting hard to breathe.

“You can be pretty convincing when you want to be,” Mare spat in his face. “Do something, your highness.”

“Why should I?” He gripped her elbows with enough force to bruise. He hated how real, how warm she felt.

She’s not real. She isn’t here. Two sentences that held no weight by now. Not when his heart missed a beat and his skin prickled at the point of contact.

“I have no interest in my wife’s kingdom, or its citizens,” he gritted out pushing her until her back hit the wall, covered in scorch marks the palace staff didn’t bother to clean anymore. “Red or Silver. Their lives mean nothing to me.”

“Nothing ever mattered to you but your precious crown, right.” Mare laughed darkly; her eyes even darker as she glared at him. He loomed inches above her. “How miserable.”

She made it sound so small and simple. An existence reduced to a circle of iron... but it wasn’t true. Underneath the incomprehensible obsession with the power, there had been other things. Phantoms of things erased and squashed with surgical precision: curiosity for art and theatre, affection toward his father and brother, a taste for certain board games, love for two Reds.

The latter, rather than being squashed like the others, had morphed into this; staring into the fascinating, beautiful, horrible face of a phantom that felt more real than his own. He loved her so much he wanted to kill her all over again.

He didn’t realize his hands were burning until Mare’s shirt caught on fire. She remained unfazed, unharmed by his fire, still glowering.

“Not the only thing.” Maven’s voice was strained. “You mattered to me. I told you that.”

“And yet...” she added dryly, without feeling the need to complete the last part. The evident. The tragedy. His last, unforgivable crime. Ripping her away from the world and attaching her to him in return.

Forgive me, I beg of you. But some words could kill if spoken out loud, and he knew these ones would end him. And he was afraid of the darkness that followed, ironic as that may be for someone who had so comfortably inhabited darkness his entire life. One was a familiar comfort, while the other was the black dot at the end of a final paragraph. He refused to end it like this.

“I love you,” he gritted out through the noose tightening around his throat.

“No,” she whispered easily, without even pausing to consider his words. The flames were up to her collar now, licking at her neck. “You don’t. I believed you did, once, in your own way. But I was wrong because you don’t willingly murder the one you love, Maven.” Her eyes glinted with amusement, reflecting the orange light of the fire. “I loved you. I even chose you before you decided to throw it all away.”

Past tense. His gut recoiled like he’d been electrocuted, even though the ghost had no sparks. The room spun, the air scratched its way down to his lungs, his clothes asphyxiated him.

“Then leave me.” He pressed his face to her temple roughly, pushing her against the wall. “Go with him!” he growled like he was gurgling on venom. “Leave me! Leave me alone like all the rest!”

His screams would surely be heard across the palace but he did not care. Mare was all he had left... but not really. He’d made sure of it.

“LEAVE!” His throat hurt and the wallpaper behind Mare started raining down on them in hot embers that clung to their hair and clothes.

She shook him off and murmured in his ear, sweetly, as warmly as if she was pressing a knife to his neck and drawing out silver blood in rivers. “You thought you were the only one capable of hunting? I’ll haunt you even after your body is buried and left to rot.”

And then she was gone. He was left staring at the burning wall, carpet, and ceiling. Behind him, he heard the chandelier drop on the burning mattress. Maven fell to his knees grasping at the now empty air and screamed his throat raw for the first time, burning it all until the room was nothing but ashes, surrounding himself with fire to fight off the dark and the cold that permeated all things.

He let it all out because he did care, deep down he still cared. It was finally starting to push to the front of his consciousness and it was like a dam breaking, like birthing humanity, or himself, he did not know. The chaos and the pain were too great.

No one came to check on him.

When he woke up on the floor the next day, so tired not even 10 years of sleep could have helped, Mare was standing over him. Arms crossed and a quirked brow.

“Are you done?”

Leave it to the Little Lightning girl to shit on a perfectly good dramatic moment.

“Mare, dear,” he sighed, feeling slightly grateful for her presence. “I’m only getting started.”

[h2bakugou]

hi! may i request a scenario where bakugo is helping his s/o with homework, and he keeps yelling at her for not focusing, and she gets really self conscious/upset bc she has ADHD and can’t help getting distracted? maybe he feels bad after and the next day he brings her to his room to help her again and does it much more softly, and cooks up her favorite meal as an apology for yelling at her before? thank you!! (*´꒳`*)

a/n: hi love! of course!! i apologize if i get some things wrong, please feel free to correct me, i used google for a little bit of help with getting things accurate!

summary: during a study session with bakugou, he gets onto you for losing focus, but he eventually finds out that you have ADHD and he comes up to you to apologize.

key: (y/n) - your name / (f/n) - first name / (l/n) - last name / (e/c) - eye color / (h/c) - hair color / (y/q) - your quirk

warnings: swearing, fluff, a smidge of angst

wordcount: 1.4k

»»————-　★　————-««

»»————-　★　————-««

“Can you please focus? You’re not going to learn anything if you keep spacing out.” Bakugou groaned, continuing to scribble down notes into his notebook neatly. 

You were trying to focus. Keyword, trying. Little things kept earning your focus, like the sound the clock was making, the small ticking noise happening every second. 

You wiggled your pencil between your fingers, anxiously re-reading over the question. You’d read it a thousand times it seemed. It was getting any easier to understand.

You were bored and Bakugou yelling at you wasn’t helping.

“Yeah, sorry.” You said quietly, trying to ignore the urge to yell at him back. You couldn’t help that you were losing focus. Maybe if this history worksheet was a bit less wordy it’d be okay.

But before you could re-read the question for the thousandth and second time, you took interest in Bakugou’s collection of All Might figures, which you had been sworn to secrecy about.

Bakugou’s eye twitched as he noticed your head moved and your eyes moved away from the paper. He let out a low growl and slammed his hands onto the table.

“Pay attention! It’s not that hard!” Bakugou was losing his patience with you. Everything was fine until it came to your study sessions. He’d never been this angry with you before. But you were just wasting his time if you weren’t going to pay attention.

Your head snapped back to Bakugou, a feeling of guilt washing over you.

“What did you get for number five.” Bakugou asked monotonously.

“Uh...” You looked down at your paper. On the thousandth and third time, it seemed to click.

“Oh well, it’s obvious the guy was a controlling leader so his people killed him.” You answered, a small feeling of relief washing over you. Bakugou sighed and accepted your short response.

“Was that so hard?” Bakugou mumbled. You looked down at your lap and began moving your leg. Sitting criss-cross, your right leg was now moving up and down.

You went back to wiggling your pencil and reading the next question.

You got lost in your train of thought to the point you didn’t hear Bakugou yelling at you again.

“Focus!” Bakugou slammed his hands down on the table again. But this was enough to make you snap out of it and bring tears to your eyes.

“I-I’m sorry.” You apologized. Bakugou softened slightly when he noticed a tear roll down your cheek.

“I’m sorry I can’t fucking help I can’t focus.” You groaned, grabbing your things and standing up.

“Hey wait-”

“No. Go spend your time with someone useful who can pay attention.” You slammed his door on your way out.

You made it back to your dorm and sat on your bed. You’d struggled with ADHD for as long as you could remember. Focusing in school was hard, paying attention was hard. You’d even gotten in trouble for trying to control your fidgeting.

You’d always end up moving a leg, or a pencil in your fingers. But hearing all that stuff from Bakugou, the guy you liked, your boyfriend.

It hurt on a whole other level.

- - -

“How’d your study session with (y/n) go?” Kaminari asked, devouring another bite of his food.

“She kept losing focus. It was annoying.” Bakugou left out the fact that he’d made you upset. He didn’t think it was really anyone’s business what happened between you and him behind closed doors.

Especially not Kaminari.

“Oh dude, that’s a little harsh don’t ya think?” Kirishima chimed in. Bakugou raised his eyebrow and rolled his eyes.

“What was I supposed to do?!” Bakugou groaned.

“Did you yell at her for not paying attention?” Mina asked, worry filling on the rest of the Bakusquad’s faces.

“Yeah? I’m not gonna waste my time for her to just sit and stare at walls and shit.” Bakugou was getting fed up with all these questions.

“Bro.” Sero looked upset.

“That’s a little messed up.” Kaminari added. Bakugou was now utterly confused.

“What am I missing!?” Bakugou raised his voice. He felt tense. Something wasn’t right.

“She has ADHD dude.” Kaminari spoke.

Bakugou’s face drained of color.

He’d royally screwed up.

“Don’t tell me you-”

“I didn’t know.” Bakugou mumbled.

“You owe her an apology.” Mina stated, going into mom mode. Bakugou nodded and shoved his hands in his pockets, his appetite had disappeared.

“It’ll be alright, you didn’t know, but you still talk to her about it, and apologize.”

“Yeah, you messed up big time bro.”

“Sero!”

“Sorry.”

- - -

Bakugou knocked on the door to your dorm. When it pulled back and he saw you, he engulfed you in a hug.

“I’m sorry.” Bakugou apologized. You were confused, but eventually, you connected the dots and assumed he was apologizing for before, during your study session.

“It’s fine-”

“It’s not. Even though I didn’t know, I shouldn't have raised my voice at you like that. I hate seeing you cry.” Bakugou said softly. This side of him was rare. You’d only ever seen him like this once before.

“I thought you knew, I figured Kaminari would’ve told you as soon as he figured it out.”

“Why didn’t you tell me?” Bakugou asked. You didn’t have an answer to that. It never crossed your mind, especially since Kaminari had found out pretty early on, it made sense that Kami would have told Bakugou.

“I assumed Kaminari would’ve told you, he found out pretty early on, like the second week of school. You wouldn’t even look at me then.” You laughed.

Bakugou remembered. He wouldn’t even talk to you, let alone be caught looking at you. Until the two of you got paired up for a project and Bakugou fell head over heels for you.

“Let me make it up to you. We can study again tomorrow, and-”

“Okay.” You agreed. You didn’t let him finish, instead, you pulled him in for a kiss.

- - -

When you got to your study session with Bakugou, he had prepared your favorite food. You smiled and didn’t hesitate in taking a bite of the yummy food.

“Did you make this?” You questioned, your eyes filled with joy.

“Yeah. I had stupid IcyHot help me with the recipe. It’s his sister’s.” Bakugou grumbled. You giggled and raised a piece for Bakugou to try.

“Are you feeding me?” Bakugou asked. You nodded. He opened his mouth a tried a bite.

It was good. Bakugou was proud of himself. He assumed you must be really happy about it too.

“Alright let’s get this done!” You said happily.

You and Bakugou began your session. Bakugou paid close attention to you, making sure you were staying on track. 

You began to lose focus again. You could feel his eyes on you.

“We can take a break if you need too.” Bakugou said calmly. You looked up, a small smile on your lips.

“O-Okay.” You blushed. He was being nicer. Bakugou and you stood up, taking a quick break to stretch and get a sip of water. You sat back down, this time beside Bakugou instead of in front of him.

“Changing up on me now?” He chuckled. You smiled and looked at his worksheet before your own.

“Okay let’s read this passage. You start and I’ll finish.” Bakugou awaited your response. You gave him a nod and began reading the long passage for your literature class.

About halfway through you could feel yourself beginning to fidget. Bakugou’s thumb rubbed your leg, tracing small shaped into the fabric of your pants. While you still fidgeted, you felt at ease, calm.

You stopped after the sixth paragraph, allowing Bakugou to take over. Listening to Bakugou read was nice. His voice sounded good, and it was funny when he pronounced big words wrong. 

“It’s pronounced-”

“Are you listening to me reading or how I’m saying words?” Bakugou raised an eyebrow.

“Both...” You blushed. Bakugou leaned in and pressed a kiss to your cheek.

“We’re almost done and then we can watch a movie.” Bakugou whispered in your ear.

- - -

The study session was over before you knew it. And as Bakugou had said, the two of you watched a movie in his room, cuddled up beside each other on his bed.

You snuggled under his All Might blanket, the one you had gotten him for Christmas that he loved but would never admit.

“I love you.” You said softly. Bakugou smiled, unbeknownst to you.

“I love you too, you nerd.”

»»————-　★　————-««

masterlist

[autistic--cryptid]

hey! just wondering if you have any mlp or hermit headcanons? also i hope you have a great day your blog is great!! <3 /p

indeed i do!

mlp:

twilight, luna, celestia, pinkie, maud, ocellus, and sunburst are all autistic

celestia, rainbow dash, scootaloo, gallus, silver stream and pinkie all have adhd

cadence is the only neurotypical princess. everytime the 4 princesses meet she spends the whole time sitting there listenting to the rest of them infodump

luna was a pegasus who earned her horn

sunset is essentially the human world equivalent of an alicorn. it doesn’t translate to the pony world because equestrian magic is different, as stated in the movies. the reason twilight is an alicorn in the pony world and in the hula world when she pony’s up is because ponying up happens bc of equestrian magic

twilight uses she/they pronouns

rarity and pinkie both use she/her and will tell people their pronouns are she/her but rarity is not opposed to any neopronouns as well

rainbow uses any pronouns with no preference

applejack uses they/she/he, in order of preference

fluttershy uses she/her and bun/buns pronouns

discord is agender and aroace and uses any pronouns but has a preference for he/him

celestia uses she/her and so/sol

luna uses she/her and they/them

cozy glow is set out of stone at some point between the coronation and the future and spends time with diamond tiara to learn how to use her special talent for good, and as an adult she’s fully reformed and takes on the role of captain of the royal guard

spitfire essentially did what rainbowdash did when she was in the wonderbolts academy: she was confident in her abilities and didn’t let the instructor break her, and then proceeded to excel at every task

spike learned how to sew from rarity, and learned how to bake and cook from pinkie

while celestia takes on ponies who have bright futures ahead of them to set them on the right path to reach that future, luna takes on ponies with dark pasts to help them with their feelings and guide them towards their brighter future

before her banishment, luna was in charge of whatever protection equestria had pre-EUP. she didn’t take it over again as she wasn’t caught up on the many many changes their military underwent

hermitcraft:

xisuma has a very consistent sleeping scheduel. he will pass out at 9:30pm on the dot regardless of what he’s doing or where he is and then wake up at 5:30am exactly everyday without fail

xisuma has several suits stored in his base, all of which are of different mobs (excluding the 50 plain green ones), and that’s how he’s able to change his skin so often

unlike xisuma, ren never sleeps. he’s constantly awake until sunrise or even beyond then working on whatever project he’s started. often times he ends up falling asleep at the base of a nearby tree or on his unfinished project because he kept himself working for too long to be able to fly to his bed

for the same reason why he never sleeps, ren never brushes his hair. if he doesn’t have time to sleep how would he find time to do that?? his solution is various hairstyles: one day it’s braided, the next it’s a ponytail, the next it’s a bun, and so on

tango has redstone freckles that glow as he smiles

impulse can touch wither roses just fine and sometimes forgets that his friends cannot. similarly, tango has shoved his entire arm in lava before to reach netherite that fell and briefly forgot his friends were so shocked bc they aren’t able to do that without losing hearts

cub has nearly infinite knowledge on all mobs and minecraft rules. somewhere in his giant pyramid or storage system there’s a book with all you could ever need to know on ravagers, and there’s probably another book on unicode, and then another on biomes, and then anoth

joe, on the other hand, does not know much about mobs. he knows what to avoid and what he can befriend, and the rest he learned through from experience. sometimes he’ll show up at cub’s base and take one of his books as if it’s library with no book organization just so he can figure out why tango just went flying over the shopping district saying something about his magic ravager teleportation system or whatever it is that time

false and wels talk about cool swords together and show each other their sword collections on a regular basis

the only person who knows more about minecraft flowers than cub is stress. sure cub knows everything about anything, but this is stress we’re talking about. if you ask her to talk to you about poppy’s you’ll leave the conversation knowing their spawn rates in every biome, the hex codes for each color, when they were added, why their spawn rate is what it is, etc.

mumbo has no idea what going on 90% of the time. he tries, he really does, but he occasionally stops in at his hobbit hole to see if grian’s left him any messages and he’ll read a letter about the turf war and something called moo-pop and the next thing he knows he’s on HEP. he has no idea how this kinda thing keeps happening to him, but he doesn’t know how to make it stop either, so he just rolls with it

tfc knows a bunch of really cool obscure facts. he also owns a lot of really cool obscure items. if you walk up to him and ask him about coal ore, you’re bound to learn something about why it spawns where it does or whatever. he’ll be able to tell you the origin story of endermen, and he’ll be right, but no one will ever be able to figure out how or why he knows this

just like tfc owns a lot of obscure things, he collects a lot of things too, which is often how he has these obscure things. he’s got a collection of coal, dating back to the first one he ever mined, all the way to one he found with a little bit of iron in it

xisuma knows how to sew and evil xisuma knows how to knit. if you bring up sewing to xisuma he’ll show you something he recently made, but if you ask ex about knitting he will fight you

doc likes to play the villain in a storyline for the aesthetic of it. in reality he’d do anything to help his friends, even if he is a bit chaotic in doing so

joe is chaotic great good. just. he is.

[mxsinistir]

May I request a Good Omens Gabriel x Human! Reader please?

Pairing: Gabriel x [y/n]

Warnings: n/a besides the fact that the bad writing ™ becomes worse writing ™ towards the end bc it’s 2 am while I’m writing this. 

Summary: Freelance London Photographer [y/n] is friends with the bookshop owner Aziraphale, and happens to be sitting in one day when a mysterious stranger enters to have a meeting with her friend. Suspicious, this artist is ready to find out as much as she can about the man. 

Word Count: 2390

(tried to keep this gender-neutral but tell me if I screwed this up anywhere bc I probably did)

Hope you enjoy!

***

The first time you met him was whenever you were inside A.Z. Fell & Co., discussing a book you’d just read and returned (since you were aware he despised the permanent purchasing of his collection) over two cups of hot chocolate.

The moment he entered, you were intrigued. You turned your head to watch him saunter in, and some part of you screamed deafeningly that whatever he was, he did not belong here. That was saying something since unusual people were not uncommon in the little London bookshop. You’d known Aziraphale’s eccentric friend Crowley for quite some time now. 

“Aziraphale,” His voice was hearty, one you should have taken comfort in hearing. But in addition to his picture-perfect, incredibly fake smile, it set your nerves on end. “May I have a word?” Part of you decided this was your chance to run from the off-setting visitor, but that would leave your friend alone with him.

“Hi, I’m [Y/n],” You shoved a hand into space between you, “I don’t believe we’ve met before.” He looked you up and down, your eyes unwavering until he met your stare. His eyes - your stomach flipped, oh god his eyes - bore into yours, and you nearly recoiled when you noticed the color. A glassy purple with no signs of contacts. Just unexplainably rich violet that made the hair stand up on the back of your neck. 

“Gabriel,” He said, shaking your hand with a grip that was just a little too strong. You were too proud to coddle your sore hand, though. “I need a moment with Aziraphale.”

“Sorry, can’t,” You couldn’t leave Aziraphale with him! What if something happened? You’d picked up that Aziraphale had been involved with some sketchy people before, and what if this guy happened to be a well-dressed gang member? Well . . . well dressed wasn’t exactly the way to put it. You didn’t know what look Gabriel was going for, but it just added to his overall wrongness. 

Besides, Aziraphale and Crowley had always remarked on your excellent intuition. Warning Aziraphale about bad customers, giving Crowley advice on problems he hadn’t explicitly explained, knowing that both your friends were thinking at a given time - and at this time, Aziraphale felt very, very anxious about Gabriel waltzing into his shop.

“What do you mean, you can’t?” He half-snarled, his fake smile faltering. 

“My bike got stolen earlier,” You explained, casually turning to drink the rest of your cocoa before it went cold. You also needed something to hide your growing smile. “I told the police to drop it off here when they found it.”“Are you sure you didn’t miss them during your chat?” He said, “I swore I saw a bike parked in the front.” You stepped past him, putting your nose against Aziraphale’s window. Sure enough, a blue bike was leaned against the glass pane. 

“Well, silly me - Guess they just left it and had better things to do.” You laughed, turning back to smile at Aziraphale and Gabriel. “See you later, Zira!”

You walked outside, planning on walking home. You weren’t going to take some random bike from in front of the bookshop just because some guy had snapped and made it appear for you.

You didn’t own a bike. 

***

The next morning, before you even had the chance to ask questions about the purple-eyed man, Crowley had come into your studio, mentioning that he was bored, due to Aziraphale’s sudden occupation with work. Aziraphale had never been truly busy since you’d known him. 

“Crowley, do you know a Gabriel?” You asked, not looking up from the photo you were currently editing the lighting of, trying to decide if you could amend the conflict between the clashing color palettes. If anything, Crowley just hoped that you were too occupied with your work to even notice that you opened your mouth to ask the question. A few seconds ticked by, and then you stared up at the redhead. 

“Yeah, I know him.” He said under his breath, “He’s a friend of Aziraphale’s. Definitely not a friend fo mine. I’d keep your distance.” 

“What does he do?” Even without being able to see his eyes through the glasses, you sensed the panic in them as he proceeded to mumble out an answer. 

“Paperwork,” He steadied himself, easing into the lie now. “Some company Aziraphale used to work for. I think he’s kind of a jerk, but he and Zira go way back, so I don’t intrude.” 

“Funny, I thought the bookshop had been family owned for a hundred years?” 

“Part-time job, maybe?” Crowley stammered out. You just rolled your eyes.

“Is Aziraphale in . . . is he in any danger with this guy?”“What? No, no, [Y/n], you’re just being paranoid.” You weren’t so sure. You’d never heard Crowley so nervous about the subject of someone, and you’d certainly never heard of him willing staying out of Aziraphale’s affairs. It was common knowledge that he was the nosiest man in London, especially when it came to his friends. “Seriously, Just stay out of his way and it should be fine.” He had a certain voice he used when he wanted you to believe things were fine, even if they weren’t.

“I’ll just ask Aziraphale since apparently, you won’t explain.” That little taunt was usually enough to make Crowley spill everything. Not for this, apparently. “He listens to you, Crowley. Just make sure he doesn’t get hurt.” 

Just because he didn’t say the promise doesn’t mean she didn’t see him make it.

***

The second time you saw Gabriel wasn’t at the bookshop, but on a bench in St. James’ Park. You were currently looking over some pictures you’d taken of the vibrant area, the photographs dotted with jogging passersby and fluffy ducks that reminded you of Aziraphale. You stood up to walk by, snapping a few more when your camera focused in on a not-quite-familiar face.

“Gabriel,” You said, curiously approaching the benched man. “Fancy seeing you here,”

“[Y/n], is it? Aziraphale’s . . . acquaintance.” Who the hell used the word acquaintance anymore? You thought. “Is there something you need?”

“Just came to clear my eyes - I’ve been staring at this one picture I took for Aziraphale last week.” You briefly explained how one of the customers had split their coffee on one of Aziraphale’s old wall paintings, which he had sat on the table to clean the walls behind it. He had been furious, and though you knew you couldn’t possibly replace the expertly preserved painting - ruined by only human clumsiness - you’d offered to gift a photograph to him. Though he was obviously still disgruntled over the lost air, he did say that even something modern would eventually become history. You’d gotten to work. “I’m supposed to bring it to him this evening.”

“I was planning to speak with him this evening as well, actually.” The man remarked.

“Well, if you wanted, you could com toe hang out at my studio for a while.” You had a feeling that no matter what, this man would try to keep up appearances. Meaning he would accept your offer, even if only not to appear rude. Thanks to some information you’d gotten out of Crowley, you now knew that you wouldn’t be in any real danger as a human inviting him to your studio. He, on the other hand, wouldn’t be expecting the onslaught of questions you had for him. 

“That sounds great,” He said with clenched teeth, and so you just smiled and packed up your laptop and camera equipment, making sure to walk beside him all the way back to your flat. 

The square footage wasn’t much - you were honestly surprised you could manage to fit two people inside at once. Beyond that, every inch of the place was stacked high with frames and camera equipment and printed portraits. Your bed was usually just the couch by the window, and even then, you more often than not just fell asleep at your work desk, head draped over crossed arms. 

“I’m gonna be a little bit - I’ve gotta play with some finishing touches, and then I’ve got to print it.” You explained - Aziraphale had given you a faux-gold 18 x 21 frame, nearly identical to the one bordering the ruined painting. “You can sit on the couch if you still want to hang out. You okay with music?” You asked casually, bringing him a glass of water. You may be suspicious of him, but your mother had always stressed the importance of hospitality. 

“Do you like music?” He thought for a moment, staring blankly before nodding as if he’d been assessing whether or not it was the correct response to say so. “Queen?” He looked even more confused but nodded again. You synced your Spotify to a small speaker and set it to shuffle, sliding into your chair as We Are the Champions began to play. You snuck a glance over at Gabriel while mouthing the words and concluded he was possibly the only person in the world who didn’t know the lyrics. If anything, that just confirmed your suspicions of the man. 

Gabriel, on the other hand, was just as confused by you as you were by him. When you’d first met, he hadn’t known how to react to you. You’d stood up to him with no background knowledge, purely because you thought he had ill intentions towards your friend. Humans were always willing to throw themselves at things for no reason, but you were different - you had a reason, and that reason was nothing more than intuition to protect those you care about. 

And now, you’d carelessly brought him into your apartment - if he could even call it that. It was a glorified storage closet, filled to the brim with art and junk and beauty. He’d never been exposed to such a mess; heaven would have never tolerated it. He couldn’t even imagine that Hell was this chaotically organized. 

He could barely focus on that. How could he anymore, when there was you to look at? Smiling truly and losing yourself in the music blaring, snapping your fingers with bad timing, singing the guitar riffs, and constantly standing up just to pace around while mouthing the lyrics. 

You walked around him more than a few times, asking him random questions while leaning far back to see what your photo looked like from afar. He eventually saw that it was of an eggshell white duck in St. James, curiously floating alongside a dark goose that had landed in the waters. He could have scoffed at the symbolism, wondering if you understood the irony of it all yourself. 

Gabriel had never seen so much life in one plac.e It radiated from you, from your camera, from your fingers. It felt raw and unexplainably human, and not in the way that disgusted him with its mediocrity. There was nothing mediocre about you. You oozed with some sort of high that no angel could ever dream of finding themselves on. Angels were too flawless for something as uncontained as the day-to-day life you lead.

During the middle of one of your lyrical outbursts, you glanced over at Gabriel. He was drinking tea now, staring out into London from your window, sunbeams casting over his dusty hair and stunning eyes. Without a word, you pulled your camera in front of you and stepped towards him, snapping photos of him a quick succession. He whipped around at the sound, just quick enough to see you smiling. 

“Stay where you are - the lighting’s amazing.” You said, steadily walking closer to the man. He truly was a vision in an element like this. You leaned back to observe the picture he’d found himself in. “Do you think you could give me one with your wings?” 

And just like that, you watched the Archangel Gabriel freeze to the core as you shuttered a few more photographs. 

“Come on, everyone knows Aziraphale isn’t human.” And of course, there was no way Crowley could keep a secret like that once he was sufficiently drunk. “And besides, humans don’t usually make this pretty of muses.” 

He unfurled his wings gently, being careful not to knock over anything. All three pairs appeared in pristine, white condition, though when the window light scattered them, they reflected a spectrum of glistening violet. 

He nearly asked to confirm that you were human, though he knew the answer. No one but a human could accomplish this - a demon nor an angel could live in such harmonious chaos with their own little world, dancing to the raw beauty of it all and flourishing in the flaws you did not perceive as such. 

Gabriel had never felt love - a sort of ‘love for all humanity’, of course, but not the thrumming in his heart he felt now, looking at you in your element, high on the artistry of what you saw in him. On what no one else had ever seen in him. 

“I could have a photoshoot with you, you know.” You said, looking at your camera screen. “You look great on camera.” 

“There’s still a few hours before I need to meet with Aziraphale,” He lied - he was two hours behind schedule, not that that mattered. “He’d told me about this bakery beside his bookshop that he apparently adores.” He didn’t even like food. It didn’t matter - he figured you would. 

“Am I being asked out by the Archangel Gabriel?”“That’s strong wording-”“I’m famished,” You smiled, and as you walked over to your computer, he expected you to print and frame your imperfect perfection. Instead, you just saved the photo and eased your computer shut. “I can make something here, though. I don’t want to leave. Does the Archangel Gabriel want to watch a movie?”

He was about to make a snarky comment about your sarcastically calling him that, but he paused as you did the unexpected. You settled down on your couch right next to him and smiled. That was enough for him to decide that his meeting with Aziraphale could wait till morning. To hell with Heaven questioning him - him of all people - being off schedule. He would deal with that in time.

Right now, all that mattered was that he was sharing in on an artist’s high, and he wasn’t ever coming off.

[thundrstrvck]

in  texas,  ellaria  dotsen  is  known  to  most  as  dot.  they  have  been  riding  with  the  reapers  for  twelve  years.  they’re  originally  from  aspen,  colorado,  and  the  soldier  is  known  to  be  very  resentful  &  withdrawn  but  the  other  club  members  will  tell  you  they  are  meticulous  &  sharp-eyed.  as  the  years  go  by,  they’ve  gained  a  lot  of  respect  in  the  club  and  around  town.  they  rarely  ever  drive  a  car  but  when  they  do  holy  smoke!  by  cher  is  usually  heard  blasting.  𝖇𝖑𝖆𝖈𝖐  𝖜𝖆𝖗𝖉𝖗𝖔𝖇𝖊  +  𝖒𝖎𝖓𝖎𝖒𝖆𝖑𝖎𝖘𝖙𝖎𝖈  𝖏𝖊𝖜𝖊𝖑𝖗𝖞  ╱  𝖘𝖈𝖆𝖙𝖙𝖊𝖗𝖊𝖉  𝖘𝖒𝖆𝖑𝖑  +  𝖗𝖆𝖓𝖉𝖔𝖒  𝖙𝖆𝖙𝖙𝖔𝖔𝖘  𝖋𝖗𝖔𝖒  𝖍𝖊𝖆𝖉-𝖙𝖔-𝖙𝖔𝖊  ╱  𝖘𝖑𝖊𝖊𝖕𝖑𝖊𝖘𝖘  𝖓𝖎𝖌𝖍𝖙𝖘  𝖈𝖔𝖓𝖛𝖊𝖗𝖙𝖊𝖉  𝖎𝖓𝖙𝖔  𝖑𝖔𝖓𝖌  𝖍𝖔𝖚𝖗𝖘  𝖔𝖋  𝖗𝖎𝖉𝖎𝖓𝖌  +  𝖘𝖑𝖊𝖊𝖕𝖎𝖓𝖌  𝖚𝖓𝖙𝖎𝖑  𝖙𝖍𝖊  𝖆𝖋𝖙𝖊𝖗𝖓𝖔𝖔𝖓.

oof,  i’m  running  on  4  hours  of  sleep  so  please  bear  with  me.  anyways,  i’m  frankie  ❪  she ╱ her  ❫  ;  23  years  old  and  living  in  the  central  timezone.  i  don’t  really  know  what  else  to  say  besides  the  following;  if  you  replied  to  this  post,  let  me  know  bc  it  was  me.  regardless,  give  this  post  some  love  and  i’ll  come  crashing  into  your  im’s.

full name.  ellaria  iminathi  dotsen

aliases.  dot  ╱  ria

age.  thirty-seven  years  old

date of birth.  march  21st.

birthplace.  cape  town,  south  africa

hometown.  aspen,  colorado

zodiac sign.  aries

ethnicity.  cape-colored  ╱  english,  east  indian,  german,  spanish,  dutch,  khoisan,  ashkenazi  jewish

nationality.  american,  south  african

languages.  afrikaans,  english,  &  spanish

religion.  currently  discovering  the  bahá'í  faith

gender & pronouns.  cis  female  ;  she ╱ her

sexual orientation.  bisexual

romantic orientation.  panromantic

profession.  soldier  for  the  reapers  m.c.  +  tbd

current location.  stratford,  texas

face claim.  lesley-ann  brandt

𝐒𝐇𝐈𝐓𝐓𝐘  𝐁𝐀𝐂𝐊𝐒𝐓𝐎𝐑𝐘     —     short  &  simple.

       DOT  WAS  BORN  AND  RAISED  in  cape  town  until  the  age  of  5.  mr.  dotsen  accepted  a  promoted  job  offer  and  off  they  moved  to  colorado.  the  cold  weather  was  unexpected  but  accepted.  with  a  south  african  accent,  dot  was  a  decent  kid.

honor roll student,  was  a  part  of  the  stem  academic  curriculum.  graduated  high  school  as  a  salutatorian  —  had  aspirations  to  work  for  NASA  as  an  aerospace  engineer.

       SHE  DIDN’T  START  LEARNING  HOW  to  ride  a  motorcycle  until  a  boyfriend  at  the  time  taught  her.  we’re  talking  high  school  sweethearts  AND  ...  believe  it  or  not,  she  was  the  shy  one  out  of  the  lovebirds.  ellaria  didn’t  realize  that  she’d  opened  up  so  much  of  her  heart  half  of  the  time  they  dated  altogether.  however,  they  both  had  different  lives,  so  they  mutually  decided  to  end  their  relationship.  they  weren’t  meant  to  last  anyways,  right?

ellaria  (  aka  dot  )  kept  going  to  school  at  the  university  of  houston,  studying  for  a  bachelor’s  degree  in  engineering.  their  breakup  didn’t  mean  that  her  life  came  to  a  halt.  no  matter  the  devastation,  she  still  carried  on  but  stressed  af.  what  was  important  to  her  is  that  they  remained  friends.

       WITH  A  FAIR  SHARE  OF  injuries  and  scars  from  the  countless  of  times  she’d  fallen  off  her  bike,  she  debated  whether  or  not  to  keep  going...  especially  with  her  graduation  around  the  corner.  graduation  day.  she  accomplished  her  goal,  but  now  what?  didn’t  have  any  luck  with  the  certain  position  she  worked  her  ass  for  ...  b/c  they  just  didn’t  see  the  potential  in  her,  undermining  her  in  the  process.

one  day,  she  decided  to  up  and  leave  houston.  paying  the  last  of  her  rent  beforehand  and  packing  her  things,  she  had  a  ride  and  didn’t  stop  till  she  reached  stratford.  TIRED.

       DOT  DID  NOT  LEAVE  STRATFORD,  mainly  because  she  didn’t  have  anywhere  else  to  go  and  hadn’t  thought  anything  through.  living  up  to  the  aphorism  of  carpe  diem.  she  managed  getting  a  part-time  job  at  miss  gina’s  while  having  an  existential  crisis,  leading  up  to  the  moment  where  she  met  a  former  member  of  the  reapers  m.c.

flashback:  mrs.  dotsen  encouraged  her  only  daughter,  ellaria,  to  take  up  self-defense  classes,  martial  arts,  krav  maga,  &  learning  how  to  shoot  a  gun  b/c  she’s  an  only  child  and  has  to  know  to  fend  for  herself  !  think  twice  before  you  act;  think  twice  before  you  speak.  also,  don’t  do  her  wrong.  she  won’t  forget.  **  more  of  a  tidbit,  really,  but  a  flashback  b/c  she  was  a  teen.

       WHAT  ELSE  COULD  A  SOLDIER  do  to  earn  some  extra  cash?  ellaria’s  still  figuring  that  out  after  nearly  a  decade.  give  her  something  exciting  to  do  !  [  wc,  perhaps  ]  the  reapers  became  her  family  for  the  past  couple  of  years.  mother  &  father  eventually  became  estranged,  wanting  nothing  to  do  with  her.  even  if  she’s  given  them  everything.  doesn’t  know  what  happened.  1  day,  they  just  settled  on  disowning  her  w/o  a  reason  ...  and  that  was  it.  she  suspects  someone  must’ve  informed  them  about  what  she’s  really  doing.

tidbit:  despite  having  a  tough  cookie  exterior,  she  has  a  heart  of  gold  and  people  don’t  expect  that  from  her.

extra:  character  is  named  after  ellaria  sand  from  game  of  thrones.  she’s  nothing  like  said  character,  though.

𝐖𝐀𝐍𝐓𝐄𝐃  𝐂𝐎𝐍𝐍𝐄𝐂𝐓𝐈𝐎𝐍𝐒  —  any  &  all  genders.

will  they,  won’t  they  —  self-explanatory?  description  to  be  added.

high  school  sweetheart  /  ex-boyfriend  —  this  character  would  have  to  be  from  colorado,  though.  this  plot  will  be  on  hold  unless  someone’s  interested,  i  wouldn’t  be  opposed  to  talking  it  through.

ride  or  die(s)  —  not  trying  to  be  dramatic,  but  ellaria  would  die  for  them  in  a  heartbeat.  w/o  question.

employer  —  a  soldier  for  the  reapers  looking  for  a  side-job.  now  hiring?  she’s  willing  to  do  anything.  a  girl  needs  her  snacks  and  stuff.  

the  fact  that  the  word  isn’t  coming  to  me  really  screams  idiot  —  “  real  family  does  not  come  from  your  blood.  it’s  the  people  standing  beside  you  when  no  one  else  is.  ”

GIVE  ME  EVERYTHING  AND  ANYTHING.  fluff,  angst,  nsfw,  all  the  senses,  etc.  idk.

[cscoopstreams]

hey sorry for not related smp ask but how did u make your own card (thats in ur bio) i see a lot of people make these and i kinda wanna do that top but this shit is so confusing lol. anyways hope u will have a great day ;]]

no need to apologise anon, i don’t mind! and thank you dude, i hope you have a great day too!! also yeah carrd can be confusing as hell lol, so here’s a tutorial on how i made my carrd specifically (link to my carrd here, warning for autoplaying music)

as this is just a tutorial on how i made my specific carrd i probably missed a lot, and if you (or anyone else other than anon) is confused, please feel free to dm me or send me another ask - i’m happy to help!

i started my carrd off from a blank canvas (but if you like the look of any of the templates then dont be afraid to use them)

the first thing i did was change the background, which i did by clicking on the more actions icon (circled in blue), and selecting ‘background’ from the drop down menu.

on the left side of the screen this should pop up

click the drop down menu that says color, and click the gradient option.

something that looks like this should come up! these are the settings that gave me the current background of my carrd, however feel free to play around! the sliders next to the colours change the severity of the gradient, and the slider down the bottom changes the angle.

if the sliders are too fiddly you can also click on the numbers to type them in.

the next thing i did was add a page, which is under ‘backgrounds’ in the more actions drop down menu. here are what my settings look like, but feel free to play around with it and decide on something you like!

your box will be small at first but will automatically grow once you start adding stuff like text and images.

to start adding stuff like text and images onto your page click the plus sign.

now to add a second section onto your carrd, click the plus sign and click ‘#control’.

this will add a dotted line, which indicates a separate section. to get to these separate sections you’ll need to add links.

the way i did this was clicking ‘icons’ from the plus sign. this should come up. click ‘email’

and this ^ should come up. to change the icon (e.g changing it to an arrow) click the drop down menu where it says email. to change the url remove the ‘domain.ext/path’ (remember to keep the https:// otherwise it will not work - i’d suggest copy and pasting instead of manually entering)

there are probably other ways to link to your separate sections but this is how i linked mine (:

you can also use these icons to add social media links if you’d like.

the last thing i did on my carrd was adding ‘buttons’ that link to all my tumblrs. i clicked on the ‘buttons’ option under the plus sign. 

a box will come up that will give you the option to change the buttons colours and links. 

now to publish, click the icon second to the left. i’d recommend not linking your carrd anywhere until you’re properly happy with how it looks and functions - i had to remake mine quite a few times before i was satisfied lmao

what you put in the title box and description will both come up when you hover over the carrd tab, and what you’ll see when you go to https://carrd.co/dashboard. 

if you scroll down you’ll be given the option to save as a draft or put in a url and publish the site. 

and i think that’s it? i probably missed something so if you still have questions don’t be afraid to dm me! if you’re american i might not respond immediately bc timezones suck lol, but i’m genuinely happy to help anyone that’s confused.

[lgbtyrus]

TJ’s Playlist Chapter 6

Story Summary: When Cyrus finds a playlist on TJ’s desktop full of old love songs, he realizes that TJ has never been a scary basketball guy but rather a huge sap. TJ just wished Cyrus could realize that all of those songs remind him of a certain boy who likes chocolate chocolate chip muffins without telling him directly.

With insecurities and fears almost set in stone, it’s hard for TJ to admit that he has a heart aching crush on Cyrus who is trying to avoid just that. Of course, it doesn’t seem like both of them are trying to get over each other when they’re always together.

Ao3 Link | Previous Chapter | Next Chapter

Words: 4252

Warning: angst, they cuss now

Cyrus found himself still lying awake in his dark room. His blanket had been thrown to the side, and he was sweating. He made his way to his restroom, and when he was washing his hands, he looked up at his mirror. He looked exhausted. He had told TJ goodnight and his intentions were to fall asleep right away like he had for the last few years. It was a gift Andi and Buffy always told him that they envied.

Only he couldn’t.

He kept thinking about his conversation with Buffy and wondered if there was anything that they had done that made her ask that question. What had put the idea in her head?

The only thing that drove him crazier was that he couldn’t get the idea out of his head. When had put the polaroid of him and TJ in his journal, he doodled a heart on the side without thinking. He quickly turned it into a shaded in circle and shut his journal.

He didn’t want to like TJ. He couldn’t like TJ. He didn’t want to be feeling all those butterflies and how his cheeks managed to feel hotter around him even though it was already 90 degrees outside. TJ was the human version of the sun to him, and it was getting harder to look at him. Cyrus couldn’t help but notice the few freckles that dotted his nose. Green was becoming a prettier color to him, and he didn’t want to know if it was because that was the color of TJ’s eyes. Their height difference was becoming a lot more noticeable to him, too. Thinking about their height difference killed him. It was when he wondered if he’d have to stand on his tippy toes to kiss him.

He would do absolutely anything to stop thinking about TJ.

Only it was getting harder.

It was kind of starting to hurt, too. It was the same longing he felt in his chest when he saw Jonah. His obstacle from being with Jonah was Andi and the probable fact that Jonah didn’t like boys. His obstacle with being TJ was simply that he didn’t like boys- making it easier to lose their friendship. If Jonah had found out, he was probably going to say “oh sorry” and then proceed to still be friends with him because of the Good Hair Crew.

If TJ found out, Cyrus had already built 22 different scenarios of it going horribly wrong. Only one of them included a “Sorry, Cyrus. I don’t like guys. But let’s still be friends.” Only, they didn’t ever speak again after that. Cyrus felt like he was driving himself mad thinking of it.

Cyrus made his way back into his room and threw himself at his bed. He hadn’t checked the time in a while, so he unplugged his phone from the charger on his bedside table. He let out a sigh as he realized it was 2:02AM. He felt curse. He had never stayed up for no reason, not even when he liked Iris or Jonah. If anything, he wanted to go to sleep to avoid the fact that he didn’t like kissing Iris as cool as she was. He wanted to fall asleep so that he could dream of another world where Jonah liked him.

But now all he could do is stay away and live in the world where TJ Kippen didn’t like him.

Cyrus shut his eyes once more, his phone gripped in his hand. He tried to fall asleep, and he knew it wasn't working. He slightly picked his head up and slammed it back down repeatedly on his pillow, hoping it'd be enough to take him out. It didn't work.

He began thinking about TJ again as he gave up and lay there. He thought about how he was actually putting in a lot more effort into his math. It made him smile.

Then he remembered.

Cyrus: Hey TJ r u awake?

In less than a minute, there was a response on his phone.

TJ: Yes but u shouldnt be

Cyrus: i can't sleep

TJ: why not?

Because of you!

Cyrus: honestly im not sure. i just have a lot of things running through my mind

You.

TJ: Do you want to talk about it?

Cyrus: I don't think so. I don't even know y i texted u in the first place tbh. sorry

TJ: youre good. i dont fall asleep until like 4am

Cyrus: oh man thats too late kgfdjgfdg

TJ: lmao i didnt think youd ever fall asleep past 10

Cyrus: i never do. i have a strict need for at least 7 hrs of sleep or ill die

TJ: looks like ur gonna die

Cyrus: please release a white dove at my funeral. make it two so it won't be lonely. Im being honest rn. im chugging a gallon of coffee tomorrow i swear. how do u do it everyday

TJ: I don't have a choice most of the time lmao. i just deal with it and let it slowly try to kill me

Cyrus: so u havent died bc you're a vampire?

TJ: u can say that. Hey can I call you instead? Im lazy

Cyrus: ye

“No,” Cyrus groaned. Hearing his voice was going to make everything feel worse. His phone started buzzing and he quickly answered it. He had never been happier about having soundproof walls. He didn’t want his parents asking what he was doing up so late talking to TJ.

“Hey,” TJ mumbled. Cyrus thought his sleepy voice was going to knock him out cold right then and right there.

“Hey, vampire,” Cyrus teased, making TJ chuckled in response.

“You sound awfully happy.”

“I’d be happier if I was asleep but I guess a late night conversation with my good pal TJ won’t kill me.”

“I’m starting to wonder if you really made up with Buffy,” TJ hummed. His voice was groggy yet Cyrus ate up every single one of his words. This was definitely a bad decision. “Did you?”

“I did,” Cyrus sighed. He was starting to wonder if he should tell him the real reason he couldn’t sleep. No. Then I’d have to tell him the idea of us liking each other is keeping me awake. But…. I don’t like him so it wouldn’t matter would it?

“We’re all cool right? I was wondering if she wanted to get her girl team to practice with mine.”

Cyrus grinned, “That’s actually be great. You should talk to her about it. I swear she’s not angry.”

“Why was she acting up with you then?”

“Stupid reasons. She admitted it herself. She’s scared of… something.”

“Buffy? Scared?” TJ scoffed. “Of what? Her reflection?” TJ paused and then said, “Sorry, that was mean.” Cyrus ended up laughing.

“No, it’s fine. She’s more worried you can say.”

“Of what?”

Of us falling in love, getting married, adopting kids, and living next door to her.

“Of us getting closer I guess.”

“So, she’s jealous?” TJ asked. Cyrus stopped himself for a moment. He hadn’t thought about it that way. He did make it clear he’d never pick anyone over her and Andi, though. He wouldn’t.

“Well we cleared it up, so I don’t think so.”

“Did she,” TJ hummed for a moment, “say anything else?” Cyrus raised an eyebrow. Did TJ know something else?

“Why are you asking?”

“Um…. Just curious.”

“You sure?”

“Well,” TJ added hesitantly. “I don’t know. I guess Amber and Buffy talked.”

“Buffy and Amber? Like my Buffy?”

“No, Buffy Summers. Yes, your Buffy,” TJ chuckled. “I guess that Amber showed her that photo where we both fell asleep and um,” TJ’s voice got lower, “I think that’s why she started acting up. Acting up is the right phrase to use but it’s 2AM. Sorry.”

“Don’t worry about it,” Cyrus barely managed to say. His heart was beating fast and he was filling up with dread. Did TJ know exactly what Buffy was thinking?

“But did she say anything weird?” TJ asked again. Cyrus realized there were only 22 ways this could go wrong, and then chances of triggering one wasn’t that high. He was also half asleep and his “fuck it” senses were quite activated.

“By weird do you mean her asking me a million times about the idea of us dating?” Cyrus quickly spit out, hoping TJ might miss the word ‘dating’. There was a moment of complete silence for almost twenty seconds. Cyrus palms were feeling sweaty, so he put his phone on speaker and lay it on the pillow next to him.

“Yeah, that,” TJ finally said. “I think it was because of Amber, to be honest.”

“I mean everything makes sense, now,” Cyrus replied. “I was getting worried about some dumb stuff. I think that’s why I couldn’t sleep.” He felt a lot more relieved. So he and TJ hasn’t done something that made it seem like they had “more than friends” intentions. It was just a conversation between Buffy and Amber that sparked something in Buffy.

“So you do know why you can’t sleep,” TJ told him, discarding the dating topic.

“Well, kind of. I mean Buffy and I actually fought over this. We never fight.”

“Just because her and Amber conspired that we liked each other?” TJ scoffed. “They do know that will never happen right?” Those words seemed to chew right through Cyrus’ heart strings.

“Yeah… yeah,” Cyrus cleared his throat. “I mean we fixed it. She realized she was being dumb. She admitted it, too.”

“Did she apologize?”

“No. I don’t expect her to. It’s Buffy.”

“It’s Buffy isn’t a good excuse, Underdog. If I drain the blood out of a kindergartner, nobody is going to say, ‘Well, it’s just TJ.’ Are they?”

“One, they’re totally different. Two, one of them is completely unrealistic.” He wished TJ wasn’t so blunt sometimes. It made him come face to face with the feelings and thoughts he always shoved in the back of his head.

“Buffy apologizing every once in a while shouldn’t be unrealistic.”

“Well,” Cyrus sighed. “I don’t feel like she owes me an apology, okay?”

“If you’re comfortable with lying to yourself, sure.”

“I’m so comfortable with lying to myself, I’d convince myself that I love myself.”

“Self-deprecating humor, huh. Nice”

“Thanks. It’s a specialty. My brain is full of it.”

“That’s nice. My brain is full of useless facts.”

“Like what?”

“Like a cat named Stubbs was the mayor of Alaska from 1997 until his death.

“TJ, I know I don’t cuss, but literally. What the fuck,” Cyrus softly chuckled, causing TJ to erupt with laughter. Cyrus rarely heard TJ laugh like this, but it was music to his ears. He really did hate the way TJ made him feel like he was floating on the clouds. He was starting to get sleepy now.

“I can’t remember how to do long division, but I honestly can remember the dumbest things,” TJ said, starting to mumble again. “Hey, Underdog. Have you started reading The Giver yet?”

“No,” Cyrus yawned. “We don’t need to be up to chapter five until Friday.”

“Want me to read it to you until you fall asleep? You sound like you’re going to pass out any minute now.”

“But then I won’t remember where I was before I fell asleep,” Cyrus moaned.

“Don’t argue. I’m already getting my book,” TJ told him. Cyrus could hear TJ shuffling around the bedroom. “Alright. Chapter one…” TJ read to him for what felt twenty minutes before he couldn’t remember anything but the lightness of dream.

-

And now the purple dusk of twilight time

Steals across the meadows of my heart

TJ was in the middle of chapter two when he heard light snoring. He smiled and whispered, “Goodnight, Underdog.” He hung up the phone and set the book back inside of his backpack before shutting off the lights. He went back under his covers and checked his phone for the time. It was 3AM, and he could hear the distant yet familiar arguing from downstairs. He had blocked it out for almost an hour thanks to Cyrus and Lois Lowry. TJ put the sides of the pillows to cover his ears and closed his eyes.

He knew time had passed when his eyes blasted open at the sound of a door slamming shut. The front door downstairs. He then registered the soft crying. Amber’s crying. He sat straight up and saw that Amber was at the end of his bed, her back against the wall.

“Amber?” TJ rubbed his eyes. “What’s going on?”

“Dad left,” she whispered. TJ stopped moving. Was he hearing wrong?

High up in the sky the little stars climb

Always reminding me that we're apart

You wander down the lane and far away

Leaving me a song that will not die

“What?”

“Dad left. I heard them fighting in the bedroom like twenty minutes ago and he was packing his stuff,” she covered her face as she started to bawl. TJ lowered his hand and crawled over and put his arm around her. Amber shared a wall with their parents. TJ at least had the guest room in between which spared him a lot. Amber had always had it the worst.

“He’ll come back,” TJ whispered, his eyes starting to burn with tears. “He’ll come back.” Amber kept crying, her sobs eventually turning into wails. All TJ could do was sit there and hug her. He hadn’t even checked what time it was. He didn’t know if Amber had fallen asleep. It was getting hazy and everything felt a million times heavier. Amber’s sobs would die down and then increase suddenly, and he failed at trying not to cry. The only thing he heard was crying and the cars that would pass by in the streets. There was a ghostly silence emitting from the entire house. “He has to come back.”

Amber fell asleep after a long while, but TJ stayed wide awake. He gently laid her down before positioning himself next to his window. He was sitting with his back flat on his poster-covered wall, his eyes switching between watching Amber sleep and staring at the photos on his ceiling. He couldn’t really see them. It was still dark outside, and he didn’t know what he was waiting for. As soon as the sun beams started burst through the window and hit his bedsheets, he knew. He reached out a hand and let the light beam of sunshine hit his hand. There were striped shadows from the blinds wrapping around his skin. He let out a half-smile before closing his eyes. Everything will work out the way it’s meant to be he told himself. His GG always said that the rising sun meant a new era. He knew he wasn’t lying because the day he died, the sunrise turned the skies orange. It was his GG’s favorite color.

The music of the years gone by.

Sometimes I wonder, how I spend

The lonely nights

Dreaming of a song

The melody

Haunts my reverie

And I am once again with you

TJ laid down next to Amber and closed his eyes, almost immediately falling asleep. It didn’t feel like he had slept for more than a few minutes, but it was 6:30AM when he woke up to Amber turning off his alarm clock. He hadn’t even covered himself with the blankets, and he was cold. Amber stood up with her hands wrapped around herself as she shivered.

“Get ready, okay?” she told him, her teeth chattering. She looked horrible, and TJ knew he did, too. He simply nodded his head, and she made her way out of his room. He didn’t want to get up. He was exhausted and drained. It was a different type of tired where everything felt heavy and his throat felt dry. His eyes hurt every time he blinked. He had no idea how he was going to make it through the entire day. He still had work that afternoon, and he definitely could not skip right now.

He stood up anyways and got dressed. He went out into the hall and heard the sink running in the restroom. Amber was going to be a while. He went back into his room and got his hair gel from his bag and started doing his hair in there to get that over with. When he was done, he heard his phone vibrate. He reached over and smiled when he saw who it was from.

Cyrus: Good morning. I’m dead.

TJ: God I wish I were you right now

Cyrus: What time did u fall asleep??? I don’t even remember falling asleep.

TJ: u knocked out like at 3.

Cyrus: how much sleep did you get

TJ: idk like 2

Cyrus: 2 what? Hours

TJ: minutes

Cyrus: tj omg. Minutes?!!!!!

TJ: okay maybe like an hour or 2 I don’t really know.

TJ hesitated before sending the next text.

TJ: everything just sucks right now

Cyrus: hey I’m here if you need anything okay? We can talk about it over baby tators after tutoring if you’d like. My treat this time.

TJ: can’t. I have work.

Cyrus: I’ll walk you to work then. Sound good?

TJ: sounds perfect :^)

Cyrus: :o)

TJ heard the restroom door open, and he walked out to finish getting ready. Amber saw the smile on his face and raised an eyebrow, “Cyrus.” TJ shrugged, the smile not faltering. “Goofy boys,” Amber shook her head with a grin and walked back into her room.

When TJ finished getting ready, he walked down stairs to find Amber making them breakfast. He had heard their mom shuffling around in the master bedroom, so he knew she wasn’t downstairs.

“Eat up,” Amber told him as he sat down. “It’s almost seven, and I’m pretty sure we’re walking.” TJ didn’t say anything and gratefully ate the breakfast. They both ate in silence. TJ realized Amber didn’t have any makeup on and her hair was in a ponytail. He had seen himself in the mirror minutes ago, and he knew he didn’t exactly look like Prince Charming either.

They both turned to the kitchen doorway when their mom walked inside. She was still in her work uniform, and her hair was in a bun that was fall apart. Her eyes and nose were extremely red.

“I made breakfast,” Amber told her, not looking at her for longer than a second. TJ just saw her nod her head before walking to the coffee machine.

“You kids don’t have to go to school today,” she told them, her voice quiet yet rough. “I’ll call in.”

“I have to turn in an essay,” Amber quickly responded.

“Yeah,” TJ momentarily added, “I have tutoring after school.”

“Tutoring?” their mom turned to look at him. TJ sunk back a little in his seat. They had been told about his dyscalculia, but it was something they haven’t talked about in a while.

“Yeah,” TJ bit his lip. “I have it for math with a friend and Mrs. Pierson.” She simply nodded her head and went back to paying attention to the coffee machine. They were silent for the next few minutes as Amber and TJ kept eating, the clinking of dishes filling the air. Their mom watched them carefully as she drank her coffee. TJ checked his phone and told them, “I better get going.” He collected his and Amber’s dishes and placed them in the sink.

“I’ll wash them after I drop you kids off,” their mom putting her coffee on the counter. “Let me go get the keys.”

“We can walk if you want,” Amber told her delicately. She hadn’t taken them to school in ages. They called it an unnecessary waste of gas most of the time.

“No,” she shook her head. “I want to. At least today.” Neither TJ or Amber pressed the matter and just went to wait by the door. Amber’s eyes were already tearing up as they got to the door. TJ gave her a weak reassuring and smile which caused Amber to rub her eyes in an attempt of disguise. When the heard the keys rattling, Amber turned to their mom and said, “I have English second period. I might text you to pick me up.”

“I’ll be by my phone,” she said as they all walked out to the family car. TJ sat in the back seat and waited for the car to start moving. He felt ice cold even though fall had barely crept in, and it was making him want to sleep. He started considering skipping school. Mrs. Pierson would understand. Cyrus would, too. “Hey, um,” their mom gently said. “I just want you kids to know that I already talked to my boss. I’m getting shifts as I need them. I’m going to be responsible now, I swear. Nana and I talked. She’ll be on call if any of you two need anything, and I’m at work.” TJ knew Amber was crying again. It made him feel worse hearing her cry. Their mom started choking up, “Hey, I love you kids, okay? I’ve been a shitty mom lately, but we’ll get through this even if it’s just the three of us. I swear.”

He has to come back. He has to come back.

-

TJ was early to school; not a lot of kids had gotten dropped off. He walked into the cafeteria and got in line (it was only two kids in front of him). He was full already, but he eyed the chocolate chocolate chip muffins. He grabbed one and went back outside to sit at a picnic bench. He pulled out his phone and realized he already had a text from Cyrus.

Cyrus: hey I need to see you before class starts

TJ: im already at school sooo

Cyrus: im almost there. Where are u?

TJ: Benches by the cafeteria

TJ didn’t bother waiting for a response. He rested his head on his propped up arm and started closing his eyes. His eyelids felt so stiff, and he if tired had a taste, it was whatever parched feeling he had in his throat.

“Good morning!” Cyrus enthusiastically said, causing TJ to jump up startled.

“Hey!” TJ yelped. He quickly turned around to see if anyone had seen, but it was just kids minding their own business and Cyrus laughing. TJ smirked at Cyrus, “Proud that you scared the shit out of me?”

“Kind of, yes,” Cyrus grinned. He had two coffee shop drinks in his hands and one was half-way done. TJ assumed that’s where he got his energy. “Here,” Cyrus set the coffee in front of TJ. “I don’t know if you drink coffee, but I know you need it.”

“I’m usually an energy drink guy, but I tend to not splurge on them. Sleep is free energy,” TJ said and picked up the coffee. He studied the see-thru plastic carefully. He rarely got anything from the coffee shop. He didn’t know how to order it. Why couldn’t the sizes just be small, medium, and large?

“You’re not getting any sleep, and TJ, I mean this in the nicest way possible. You look exhausted. I’m so glad I chose today to get you this,” Cyrus gave TJ an apologetic look. TJ was half-asleep, so he just stared at Cyrus’ lips for a few seconds too long before remembering he was in a conversation.

“Uh, yeah,” TJ blinked furiously and set the coffee down, “thank you by the way. I owe you one.”

“No, you don’t,” Cyrus shook his head. TJ took a sip from the straw and immediately made a sour face.

“What is this, Underdog?” TJ smacked his lips a few times. It was super sweet at first, but he liked the aftertaste. He started drinking it again.

“I call it liquid cocaine. It’s 4 shots of expresso, and 4 pumps of white chocolate syrup over ice in a cold cup.”

“Sounds unhealthy.”

“You sleeping habits are unhealthy, TJ. You need to get more sleep.”

“Sounds fake.”

“TJ!” Cyrus whined.

“Fine, fine,” TJ rubbed his eyes. “I’ll take sleeping syrup or something.”

“Don’t abuse that stuff, though.”

“Do you want me to sleep or not?” TJ smiled, causing Cyrus to shrug.

“I guess,” Cyrus sighed. TJ felt nice for a change. Every time he realized Cyrus cared about him, it made everything feel better. Even if everything was a complete shit pile. “Hey we have time to talk if you want to tell me what’s wrong. Or we can wait until after school. If we don’t crash.” TJ looked around and bit his lip. If he didn’t make it to the end of the school day, it wasn’t going to be because of a caffeine crash. He was pretty good at hiding any emotional distress in person, but he didn’t know how long he’d be able to hold this in.

“I’ll just um…,” TJ bit his lip harder.

“We’ll talk after school,” Cyrus reached his hand across the table and squeezed TJ’s free hand. TJ felt himself turning red, but he didn’t reach out to cover his nose. He put the coffee down and set the abandoned muffin right in front of Cyrus.

“It’s for you.”

The nightingale

Tells his fairytale

Of paradise, where roses grew

Though I dream in vain

In my heart it will remain

My stardust melody

The memory of love's refrain.

Next Chapter

A/N: Thank you for reading! Here’s those who asked to be tagged :) If you want to be added or removed from this list, just let me know! Also if I forget you I swear it wasn’t on purpose. I skip over things in my head sometimes.

@magicalcowboycalzonemoney @the-greatt-perhaps @thedampjofangirl@evaeselgreatest @musicalsfuckmeup @stupidlambforever

[sickandvomiting]

Trials and Tribulations (1/?)

So apparently our lovely tungle dot com decided to completely erase a couple of my fics, this being one of them. So here I am to repost, bc this is actually important to a major plot arc for the Blues Group.

“YES! Ah! That’s it!” Avi exclaimed, startling Morgan out of his momentary daze. Avi had called Morgan over to their place earlier in the day for help with a new song idea, but they had gotten rather stuck on a chord in the bridge and everything Morgan had been suggesting for the past ten minutes was shot down. Eventually Morgan just let Avi do their thing, zoning out for a bit as they plunked around on the piano, trying to find the exact combination of notes they were hearing in their head. Inwardly he was actually a little grateful for the break. He had been feeling a kind of gnawing in his stomach for the last hour or so that had recently blossomed into mild nausea, and the reprieve from constant conversation and singing was nice, although short lived. He absently ran a hand over his stomach as he turned back to Avi.

“Let’s hear it then,” he prompted, gesturing to the keyboard. The lanky pianist smiled, whipping around and starting from the beginning of the bridge, singing Morgan’s vocals quietly along with the accompaniment. When they got to the part they had gotten stuck on before, they looked pointedly over at Morgan and raised an eyebrow as they played the dissonant chord they had been agonizing over before finishing out the bridge with a flourish. It was beautiful, tones playing off each other and leading the ear in unexpected ways. Half steps are a thing of beauty, Morgan thought.

“Yes! That fits so much better than what I was saying,” he laughed, inwardly wincing a bit as the motion jostled his unsettled stomach.

“I know, that’s why I kept saying no to what you were saying, sugar” Avi replied, thick southern drawl curling their words. “I’d give my left leg for your perfect pitch.” They laughed as Morgan raised an eyebrow at them.  

“And what exactly would I do with your left leg after said trade?” He smiled amusedly as Avi shrugged and went back to playing. “Seems like I’d be getting the short end of the stick.”

“Search me, darlin’. Maybe hit people with it? Carry it around to give people a scare?” they quipped back, not looking up from the keys. “It’s certainly long enough and white enough to pass for a fancy marble pillar, so maybe stick it on the fancy porch of a very small mansion?” they added, smiling down at the piano as their fingers flew over the keyboard.

Morgan laughed, but said nothing. Instead, he stifled a breathy burp behind his fist. He wasn’t quite sure what was making him queasy, but he was sure at this point that hunger wasn’t the culprit. The very thought of eating made his stomach roll uneasily inside him. Avi’s unnaturally warm room certainly wasn’t helping his case, nor were the strong smelling leftovers from their lunch a few hours earlier. Spicy Indian curry. Another burp rolled up his throat and his cheeks puffed out as he tried to keep it silent. Avi was too absorbed in what they were playing to notice anything else, for which Morgan was grateful. He pressed the back of his fingers against his cheek, feeling his flushed face. He was definitely too warm, but again, that could just be the heat of the room. Perhaps he was reading into things too much.

He sat in silence listening to Avi play for a few more minutes when his stomach let out an audible gurgle, which in turn elicited another belch. Maybe curry had been a bad idea. I need to get out of this room, Morgan thought. He stood slowly, being careful not to jar his quickly worsening stomach.

“Back in a moment,” he said as he stepped through the door. Avi nodded and waved a hand in dismissal when they could spare it, not really processing what had been said.

Morgan closed the door behind him, but unfortunately both the heat and the smell had already permeated the entire apartment. Pressing a hand against his gurgling stomach, he momentarily sagged against the wall before stepping into the bathroom and leaning over the sink. He looked up at himself in the mirror. He didn’t look particularly sick. No sunken eyes or terrible flush - if anything, he looked a bit paler than normal despite how hot his face felt. He stifled another burp behind his fist, tasting an offensive mixture of stomach acid, curry, and the coffee he drank earlier. He pulled his long dreads back into a ponytail and turned on the faucet, splashing some of the cool water on his face. It felt good on his too-warm skin, and he leaned down and took a sip from the stream. The cool liquid felt amazing. Maybe it’s just dehydration after all, he thought. After all, he hadn’t had a proper drink of water in longer than he could remember. And it didn’t seem to hurt him, so he took a slightly longer drink from it, and when that felt alright, another. He didn’t stop until he felt like he had rehydrated sufficiently, and was a little cooler to boot.  

As he stood up to return to the room, the water in his now full stomach sloshed uncomfortably. He had only taken a few steps back down the hallway when it started churning and roiling with a newfound vengeance. The nausea came back so quickly and with such intensity that he had to support himself with the wall as he staggered back to the restroom as quickly as he could given that the floor was tilting feet. He clamped a hand over his mouth; salty saliva began to pool in his mouth and he gagged unproductively against his palm.  

As soon as the toilet was in sight his stomach lurched, sending up a small torrent of water that spurted from between his fingers. He darted over to the sink and doubled over, heaving again. Mostly liquid sick splattered into the basin, a few droplets splashing back up onto his face and shirt. He took a moment to catch his breath, and bit back a gag as he darted over to the toilet and lifted the lid. No sooner had he collapsed to his knees than he pitched forward as another gush thundered into bowl, coming out his nose with the force of it. He panted toward the water, and screwed his eyes shut as his stomach rolled violently, more sick splattering into the murky water.

He let his mouth hang open expectantly as tendrils of drool and sick clung to his lips, but nothing else came. He knew there was more in there; his stomach was still churning and burbling like a boiling pot, but it seemed to be finished for the moment. He spit into the soiled water and grabbed a handful of toilet paper to wipe his watering eyes and the rest of his face before pitching it into the bowl. He grabbed another wad and blew his nose, almost gagging again as something dislodged that definitely wasn’t supposed to be there. He stayed kneeling for another minute, just in case, but when nothing happened he flushed the toilet stood cautiously. He made his way slowly back to Avi’s room, with small cautious steps, keeping one hand on his aching belly and the other on the wall since the room still felt as though it was pitching about like a boat on the water.

He opened the door and the smell of curry hit him like a freight train. His stomach gurgled ominously, and for a moment he was sure he was going to be sick again right there, but the danger passed after a few seconds and he stepped gingerly into the room.

Avi turned to face him when they heard the door open and gasped. All color had gone from under Morgan’s dark skin except for a few reddish blotches on the apples of his cheeks, his eyes were red and puffy, and the way he hunched over and cradled his belly spoke volumes as to how he must be feeling.

“I threw up,” he croaked out, anticipating the question when Avi’s mouth opened to speak. His normally rich voice was raspy and shallow.

Avi sprang off the bench and crossed the room in two strides. “Why didn’t you say something earlier?” they asked, despite already knowing the answer. Morgan was a very private person, and did everything in his power to keep from letting people know when something was wrong. Something about “showing weakness”, they remembered him say. They placed a cool hand on his forehead and tsked quietly at the warmth they felt.

“You’ve got a fever darlin’.”

They moved to guide Morgan to the bed, but even before they made contact Morgan’s eyes widened with sudden panic. His hand flew to his mouth as gagged, but it did nothing to stop the stream of sick from splattering down his chest and onto the floor, coating his shirt and shoes. The spray caught Avi’s skirt and shoes as well. He tried to apologize but got cut off but another gag. Avi frantically shoved their trash bin under Morgan’s chin just in time to catch the second wave, and held it there as he burped up another mouthful of sick. It fell into the bin with a crinkle of the plastic liner, followed by another larger wave. They turned their head away, closing their eyes as he spewed another gush into the bin, the sight and smell turning their stomach as well.

The bout ended just as quickly as it started, and as soon as he felt safe to speak, apologies started tumbling out of Morgan’s mouth as fast as he could say them.

“Oh my god I’m so so sorry I didn’t mean to oh my god I’m sorry there’s such a mess I’m so so sorry I don’t know what happened-”

Avi cut him off, shushing him gently. “It’s okay, Morgan. It’s not your fault. You’re alright.” They set the basin on the ground and wiped his mouth with a tissue. “Let’s get you out of these soiled clothes and clean you up, okay?” When he nodded, they grabbed his clean hand started steering him in the direction of the bathroom.

Morgan’s head was reeling. Stars danced about the corners of his vision as his head throbbed in time with his racing pulse. He leaned heavily on Avi for support when his knees threatened to buckle. His legs were trembling so hard he was sure the muscles would just give out and send him sprawling to the ground. His limbs all felt like jelly and his abs cramped and ached, as though every bit of energy in his body had been sapped up by the fit.

The trip to the restroom was a short one, but felt like it took far longer than the 30 seconds they really spent struggling to stay upright. As soon as they got there Avi all but dropped Morgan onto the toilet. He groaned at the jarring movement and sagged forward, curling both arms around his stomach, his head lolling against his chest. He always felt exhausted after throwing up, but this was something else. He was so warm. His eyelids were so heavy.

Avi turned on the faucet in their large bath, letting the water run until it was warm before plugging the drain. They then tapped Morgan’s cheek to rouse him, grimacing at the heat they felt there. Was it possible for a fever to shoot up so quickly? They bit their lip in worry as Morgan’s glassy eyes worked to focus on them, eventually settling on the bright floral tattoo on their chest, seemingly unable to look up any further. Or at least unwilling.

“It’s gonna be okay,” Avi said, more for their own benefit than Morgan’s. “Stay with me, sweetheart,” they whispered, brushing a stray dread behind Morgan’s ear and tipping his face up toward their own.

“‘M here,” Morgan mumbled almost incoherently, looking pointedly away from Avi in humiliation. “‘M just… so tired. Why’m I so tired?” His eyes turned toward them, searching their face for an answer, but saw only worry.

“I don’t know, sugar,” Avi answered, starting to tug at the bottom of Morgan’s shirt. “Arms up, okay? We’ve gotta get you cleaned up.”

“Mmmnh,” Morgan groaned, blushing crimson as Avi helped to strip him of his sick drenched shirt. They threw it unceremoniously into the sink before asking Morgan to stand and take his jeans off while they supported him. He obliged, albeit slowly and reluctantly, mind working through a fog as his fingers fumbled with the buttons and zip.

Once he was wearing nothing but his boxers, Avi helped him into the tub and turned off the water. It was a really nice tub, deep enough that he was mostly submerged, other than his shoulders and head, and long enough to stretch out his legs. Any other time he would have appreciated it, but right now the warmth of the water was starting to get to his head and make his stomach churn all over again.

Avi crossed to the sink and turned on the tap, soaking the soiled clothes-- those were a later problem-- while Morgan dispensed some soap onto a washcloth that was draped over the side of the tub. He shook his head as the sickeningly sweet black cherry scent turned his stomach, but there was some resistance to the motion.

“Shit,” he mumbled.

Avi whipped around, assuming that something bad was about to happen. “What is it? What’s wrong?”

“M’ hair got wet…” he said, struggling to get the saturated locs out from behind his back.

Avi breathed a sigh of relief. This they could help with. They sat down on the edge of the tub and gently swatted Morgan’s trembling hands away before helping him sit forward enough to pull his long hair out of the water. They wrapped the dripping ends in a towel and wrung them out as best they could before using a big sparkly scrunchy to pull all of his hair up into a bun on top of his head.

“Cute,” they said with a wry laugh as Morgan stared at them incredulously.

“This a good look for me?” he asked, smiling halfheartedly when Avi replied “Definitely,” with a wink.

He resumed running the washcloth over his chest and arms, trying to get the dirty feeling off of them despite the fact that the sick had already been rinsed away. Avi excused themself to go change into some fresh clothes, and Morgan rested the side of his head against the cool wall as soon as they were gone. He sat completely still for a few minutes as his stomach churned, doing flips inside him. The nausea had come back again, and he burped openly against the tile, tasting acid at the back of his throat. He closed his eyes and wrapped his arms protectively around his middle, curling in on himself out of sight under the water and bubbles. His shoulders jerked with another sudden low belch, and he suddenly felt that familiar tug in the back of his throat as spit pooled in his mouth. He was going to be sick again.

He struggled to get out of the tub but his legs wouldn’t cooperate and he slid back into the water with a splash. A trembling hand hovered over his mouth as his eyes scanned the room for a basin. The toilet was too far away, and the only trash can in the room was out of reach as well.

He gagged against his hand before calling out “Avi!” who appeared in the doorframe seconds later, wearing nothing but a pair of sleep shorts. “Tra- HEULP!- trashcan”, he said, head hanging pathetically over the edge of the tub. Avi scrambled to grab the bin and shoved it under Morgan’s chin just as a mess of beige slime spilled out from between his lips.

He took the basin with shaking hands and pulled it into the tub with him so he could sit up straight and wasn’t twisted around at the middle. He pitched forward as he was sick again, head ducking so far into the bin that his face (and everything coming out of it) was obscured by its sides. He heard the water sloshing against it as he retched up another wave and chunks of his lunch fell into the unlined bin with a shallow patter.

Avi placed a comforting hand on Morgan’s back as he got sick for what felt like the umpteenth time that day. They rubbed up and down his spine gently, slender fingers occasionally dipping into the water. They expected his bout to end quickly like the last one did, but that didn’t happen. Morgan choked and spluttered and gagged into the basin as wave after wave of sick was forced up with painful heaves. The gushes got smaller and smaller until there was absolutely nothing left in his stomach, and even then powerful dry heaves wracked his frame, occasionally bringing up a trickle of yellow bile.

Nearly a full eight minutes later, Morgan collapsed against the back of the tub as Avi took the bin from him before it could tip into the water. Tears rolled down his cheeks and Avi swiped them away with their thumb before cleaning up Morgan’s face with the washcloth. Morgan moaned as his muscles seemed to give out and he slipped further into the water. Avi caught him before his face was submerged and held him upright, his face against their chest. He started to sob; whether it was from pain, from exhaustion, from embarrassment, Avi didn’t know. They leaned over the edge of the tub, pulling him in closer and holding him, allowing him to cry freely against their chest, hot tears running down their bare skin as they dropped from his eyes.

Panic surged through their body like electricity, making their fingers tingle and chest tight. Morgan didn’t cry. He never cried. When he did, you knew something was really really wrong. They they hummed gently against the top of his head, stroking his arm with one hand while the other supported his back.

“You’re okay. I’ve got you,” they whispered. They glanced around the room to find a dry towel to dry his tears with.

That’s when they saw it.

At the bottom of the shallow trash can.

Blood, mixed in with the sick. A significant amount.

They did their best to keep calm as adrenaline and panic coursed through their veins anew, and they quietly reached for their phone and pressed the emergency call button.

“911, what is your emergency?”

[guava-jarritos]

Tag Game!

I was tagged by @dirtyhqnds​

last

Drink: Water, bih. Slurp slurp. .......I hate myself.

Phone call: To my dad, bc he got a flat tire driving home and I needed to know what to make for dinner

Text message: Text message? “Ok?” I don’t actually text that much. But if Snapchats count? “AAAAAAAAAAA MAAATTTTTTTT PLEASE HELP”

Song you listened to: Lose Yourself To Dance - Daft Punk

Time you cried: Uhhhhhh like 4:00 pm today bc I’m still getting over missing my friends

ever

Dated someone twice: Nope thank god the only person I “dated” was a dumpster fire of a human being

Kissed someone and regretted it: Uhhhhhhhh kinda?

Been cheated on: Not that I know of.....

Lost someone special: Yeah

Been depressed: BIH

Gotten drunk and thrown up: Nope

Fave colors: Blues and yellows

In the last year have you

Made new friends: Y E S   I   H A V E   W O W   T H E Y ‘ R E   G R E A T

Fallen out of love: I’m too lazy to math it out but sometime in the last couple years, yeah

Laughed until you cried: Is there any other way to laugh?

Found out someone was talking about you: Uhhhhh people always talk about me,,,, “It’s Maureen’s turn to do the dishes” “Maureen’s gone all day today” whatchu talkin bout

Met someone who changed you: Uhhhhhh yeah I DID meet Dani in the past year??? Feels like longer

Found out who your friends are: Well uh making new friends kinda involves finding out they’re your friends...... so YEAH........

Kissed someone on your Facebook friends list: Hah bitch the last time I even got close to kissing someone I was 10 ,,,,, and I am almost 20

general

How many Facebook friends do you know irl: Most of them

Do you have any pets: ONE CAT whom my friends worship

Do you want to change your name: Eh?

What did you do for your birthday last year: Uhhhhhhhh went to my friend’s house to watch the ball drop (New Years Eve) then drove home alone and was sad 

What were you doing at midnight last night: Asleep 

What is something you can’t wait for: To see my friends again???

What are you listening to rn: The sound of me typing. Very satisfying. Also the sound of my fan

Have you ever talked to a person named Tom: Yep.

Something that gets on your nerves: THOSE STUPID FUCKING TIK TOK ADS ON TUMBLR AND SNAPCHAT I CANT GET RID OF THEM

Most visited website: Haaahaaaaaahhhh CANVAS DOT LUMERIT DOT COM BITCH

Hair color: Not Quite Black

Long or short: Hair? It’s really short

Do you have a crush on someone: Not currently (at which point my brain goes “uhhhhhh well maybe” so not currently/not quite yet)

What do you like about yourself: A Whole Fucking Lot

Want any piercings: Maybe? We’ll see

Blood type: Do people just KNOW this????

Nicknames: Ask my friends :)

Relationship status: I hate the saying “single as a pringle” bc pringles are always spooning eachother I don’t got that,,,,,

Zodiac: Hate zodiacs but capricorn

Pronouns: She/her or they/them

Fave tv shows: Westworld, Legends Of Tomorrow, Punisher, Daredevil, Game Of Thrones, How To Get Away With Murder, Supernatural,

Tattoos: Not yet

Right or left handed: Right

Ever had surgery: Oh god yes

Piercings: One in each ear, although once upon a time I had a second one in my right ear

Sport: I played soccer when I was little?

Vacation: Wtf is a vacation we too broke for those

More general

Eating: Nothing, although I just had a salad for dinner

Drinking: Nothing, but I had water with dinner

About to watch: Not Gonna

Waiting for: Bitch idek

Want: MoNeY

Get married: Maybe someday :)

Career: These questions are so vague like am I supposed to answer what I WANT or what I’m CURRENTLY doing?? I’m in college and working part time whatever I can get, but I want to eventually get into tattoos

Which is better

Hugs or kisses

Lips or eyes

Shorter or taller

Older or younger

Nice arms or stomach 

Hookup or relationship

Troublemaker or hesitant

have you ever

Kissed a stranger: Nope

Drunk hard liquor: Nope

Lost glasses: Yep

Turned someone down: YES THANK GOD

Sex on first date: Nope

Broken someone’s heart: HE says I did.....

Had your heart broken: Bitch Yes

Been arrested: Nope

Cried when someone died: Yep

Fallen for a friend: Yes and I don’t recommend it

Do you believe in

Yourself: Theoretically I do

Miracles: Yes

Love at first sight: No. I believe that while you can LIKE someone at first sight, love is a journey and has to be cultivated.

Santa Claus: Never

Kiss on a first date: Right person, maybe

Angels: Yes

Others

Best friends names: Just their names? Uh? Clay, Katie, Dani @thotnoswillreturn

And I’ll tag @thotnoswillreturn, @lookingforadoctor, and @lieutenant-hankypanky

[resbang-bookclub]

AMA Transcript: Simple Melody

For our final AMA of Resbang 2017, @alliope, @bbbutterfingers & @daciafu stopped in to answer questions about their Resbang, Simple Melody! Here’s some of what went down:

Q: My first question for Allie is what inspired you to do this AU?

Allie: Well I've generally had the idea for an Over the Garden Wall AU for a while, not necessarily for SE, but as the first check-ins deadline was approaching I ended up rewatching bits of Over the Garden Wall and it just kinda clicked? Mainly I think it came from Crona's betrayal and Beatrice's betrayal and everything fell into place from there. I thought the eerie atmospheres would work well together! So I ended up scrapping my previous idea and wrote 3k plus a summary like three days before the first check-ins, rip.

Q: For butter/dacia, what went into how you decided which scene(s) to art?

butterfingers: HM well there was some chitchat when we started about what kind of work we wanted to do and I said that I loved the Boom comics covers, and then I shouted WHAT IF I MADE  COMIC BOOK COVERS! and I think Dacia went WHAT IF I DID BACKGROUNDS and I guess we just approached it as if we were doing something comic-y haha!

Allie: You two were the power duo.

daciafu: I've always been in love with the style of the backgrounds of OTGW since that's where all those cozy and spooky feelings of fall and the Unknown really shine and I'm honestly HORRIBLE at designing backgrounds so I wanted to take the challenge and push myself to get better! Mimicking other people's styles really helps me break down how they make their choices and teaches me how to make things look Decent so I was super hyped to pick up the OTGW style! And then when Butters and I were trying to figure out What Do and she said she wanted to tackle covers, I decided to do background-heavy scenes. 😊

Q: What is generally your guys’ process (writing for Allie and arting for butters and dacia)?

Allie: Well, I wrote in little scenes, like I would get an idea for a scene and just go for it, the fic wasn't at all coherent until maybe a few days before posting. This actually posed a problem since linking scenes took longer than I thought it would. Because I had most of my scenes written, I thought I had more finished than I really did. By the end of Resbang, I had 56k written but only 20k remotely post-able. I'm a super obsessive planner though, so my whole fic was outlined in detail early on, which was nice cause I knew what I was doing lol

butterfingers: I loved going through Allie's notes, I was always excited to see how they'd connect the dots! My art process is as follows: scribble something, put it aside, look at it a lot throughout the day with the thought that maybe I can surprise myself into seeing something new, find something I hate, fix it, rinse and repeat. For this project I actually... have a friend who works with Boom Comics and she was able to hook me up with a nice little gallery of illustrations for the OTGW comic so I got to go through and put together my mood board for it 😊

daciafu: I read over the gloriousness that was Allie's draft and immediately picked out some neat scenes or wanted to reimagine the classic OTWG ones. I spent a lot of time studying first! Looking at the art books, and poring over the show’s scenes and kind of getting a feel for the color palettes, textures and compositions. Then I watched a tutorial on Youtube where someone just deadass uploaded their painting process on a piece of official art that made it into the show. So that was EXTREMELY helpful to watch the way they painted back-to-front and kind of blended the planes without like, losing depth?? The internet is so, so wonderful. And then I got to work! Started with a soft brush for lineart so it wouldn't be too prevalent, moved onto base colors, then shading, and then really trying to establish textures and make the atmosphere Just Right(tm).

butterfingers: Genius!! Oh damn that sounds like such great advice vis à vis backgrounds. /takes notes

Q: You sound like the dream art partner Allie, I weep for my artists and my last minute HERE IS 10K I JUST TYPED UP BC IM A MESS.

Allie: Ahh geez, these two were the dream partners honestly, like I'm so glad they could gather stuff from my notes, cause I've always got everything together in my head, but then it gets out there and it's a mess, these two deserve all the love.

butterfingers: There was one thing I regret that I didn't have the chance to draw and it was like a throwaway line somewhere in your notes about Maka presenting Soul with a praying mantis and him freaking out. I resonated with that so hard hahaha.

Q: What was the hardest scene for you to write?

Allie: The hardest scene to write that's actually posted was anything with Justin really, I don't get his character and it was tough to write him. There were a few scenes that were hard to write because I rushed them, but I wouldn't say they were genuinely difficult scenes, I just gotta rewrite 'em! But overall the ending scene I'm still struggling to write and there's a dream scene that occurs which has been difficult to write just for making it dream-like enough?

Q: And what was the hardest to art? :o

butterfingers: I had a hard time with Maka's expressions. I had many scribbles designing a Ragnarok lantern, too, but it was very fun!!

Allie: Your design for the Ragnarok lantern was so good, I still cry over it.

butterfingers: Ahaha thank you! He was very Calcifer inspired ;)

daciafu: I struggled quite a bit with the first one I painted, just because it was all so new to me. I had to base color 3 different times because the soft lineart bothered me if something extended too far, or there was white background peeking through. And then reimagining the texture in the leaves and the ground to try to separate the planes there but also wanting them to be cohesive was a bit of a headache. If I had to go back and do that one over again I think I'd be more prepared to deal with the foliage lmao.

butterfingers: Your textures were very excellent, that was a quality I struggled with as well!

daciafu: The first one I painted was the Golden Light scene where Maka and Soul are leaving the woods and entering the fields.

butterfingers: Trees r hard.

Allie: They all came out so incredible though, I'm in awe of how you were able to create those leaves.

daciafu: Omg ;;;;; At the same time trees are so organic and flowy and the chances of getting them wrong are pretty slim considering they can get janked as hell lol they're super fun to just zone out to. "I’ll just put a happy little leaf here, ooh and how’s about another one right next to it. They can be happy friends. Oh look, the squad showed up!!" Channeling my inner Bob Ross... but yeah you can just do whatever with them and they somehow come together.

Q: Daciafu how do u.....background, like you did so well and all I hear from art friends is various levels of pterodactyl screeching when the word background is mentioned.

daciafu: I heavily based the Leafing the Forest scene and the church scene after stills from the show so I don't get composition points there, but I built the pumpkin fields just based off of the environment’s design elements. I really wanted to push the depth of that scene but also give it that same never-ending quality to it, and I'm super happy with the results. Another note is that I omitted the characters entirely while building the backgrounds. Since I'm usually a pretty character-heavy artist, I wanted to tackle it like I was preparing the scene for an animator later. And then once they were done, I added in our sweet kids. Doing it that way first really helped to cement the characters in the space rather than my usual "character is done, how can I put them in an interesting physical space?" struggle lmao.

Q: Did you guys feel like your writing/arting changed at all or that you learned anything/picked up new skills/honed old ones etc. etc. during Resbang?

Allie: Gosh yeah, it changed a lot. In hindsight a bad idea, but this was the first fic I'd ever written with intention of posting and the longest piece I'd ever written. Before this I had written very little and my longest piece was maybe 10k. Throughout Resbang I've learned most of everything from the ground up, it's taught me a lot about my limits, how I work and writing in general. I've definitely improved a lot from the experience!

butterfingers: Let me tell you all about the airbrush tool that I discovered during Resbang. Amazing. Incredible.

daciafu: I learned how to paint backgrounds!!! Which is something I've always wanted to get better at. And I got super comfortable in Clip Studio (I'd just gotten it) as well as using texture brushes, so overall it was a very helpful and wonderful experience as a Resbang participant and as an arteest.

Q: Oh that reminds me butters, what program do you use?

butterfingers: Paint Tool SAI for the most part, and then Photoshop for color correction, borders, and, like, finesse things! :)

Q: Did you guys listen to any music that inspired you or helped you create?

Allie: Ah, yeah! I had a playlist actually! https://www.youtube.com/playlist?list=PLjTCaFkFU6rkD1edJwCZmHvJiUwlSUeGZ

If you want I can explain some bits of it? I use music a lot when writing aha. I like to associate certain songs with characters and character relationships, so most of the songs are connected to a particular part of the story. The Monroe Transfer, Wayfaring Stranger, and Mountains were all more general atmosphere stuff. Blame was very much related to Maka, which may not be apparent now, but yeah. Ragnarok I actually connected a lot with Willow Tree March. Soul was probably closest with A Lady. Crona had a lot of songs, but Neptune was most specific to them, as was probably Ghost Towns. Some character relationships I associated with certain songs, Crona-Ragnarok and Soul-Maka were both pretty connected to Always Gold, especially that dang last line "there were holes in you, the kind that I could not mend" oh man. Crona-Maka was definitely We Could Be Friends, Bloom, and Spell. Meet Me in The Woods I thought was a pretty good group song! Those are just some general bits of my thinking with the music aha.

daciafu: Definitely checked out Allie's dope playlist. For most of my working time, tho, I was either listening to TAZ: Commitment or MBMBaM oddly enough lol. I will forever think of Justin's uproarious laughter whenever I look at them lmao.

Q: Were any of the relationships difficult to characterize?

Allie: Mmm this may sound weird but early Maka-Crona was weird for me, cause they were kinda at that point where they want to (or at least Maka wants to) like each other, but they don’t like or trust each other at all and it's a weird spot for them. I'm used to writing them as at least interested by one another, if not enemies or already fond of one another, so this felt like a very odd place to start with them.

Q: Do you guys have future plans for writing/drawing? Aside from polishing and posting the rest of the fic!

Allie: I have,,, too many plans,, I need less plans,, someone please take them away from me, I can't be trusted with them,,,, I do want to do a sequel for this when I get it finished, playing on the detail about crows memory lasting five years so. Beyond that I have a SoMa fic to finish for the prompt challenge!! I'm working on a gift for Crescentcrona, which is a fantasy Kirona fic called Eat The Rich. I have polyam week fics that I'm cleaning up, I think my favorite so far is a Azusa/Naigus/Sid/Mifune one for Through The Seasons. And God I have so many CroMa fics I want to write, I gotta fill the AO3 tag. I think the biggest one right now is a wings-related soulmates au that I've been working on on the side since October I think?

daciafu: Yo there's one scene that I'm like sUPER hyped to do if Allie does the sequel because I already know exactly how I wanna draw it but I wasn't able to fit that in near the end, and it didn't end up in the first part. But there are a couple of other scenes Allie and I workshopped that would be super fun to do and I would love to draw them. Other than that, my drawing plans are pretty much working on commissions as they come in. Surprisingly my queue has been maxed out and I just got a full time job so of course now I'm like.... hm.... I'll get 'em done eventually!!

----

That’s the end of the AMAs for the 2017 season! Thanks again for reading along with us, and see you next year! :)

[midnightghostwriter]

close encounter

↬ summary: a trip downtown turns into more than you bargained for

↬ genre: fluff

↬ pairing: jay park x reader

↬ word count: 2.7k

a/n: okay so this is 100% just because i like this story and this week has sucked so here have more fluff. istg someday i will update with something new, but for now bear with me and have this instead.

i will probably change the title bc idk how i feel about it lol

The Pacific Northwest was known more than anywhere else in America for being rainy, gray, and cold, especially during the extended winter months. This fact only became more true the closer one drew to the various bodies of water dotting the state of Washington, leading you to wonder what had possessed you to go on this excursion. It wasn’t precisely far to reach the damp streets of Seattle, but it was far enough that by the time you’d arrived at the bustling hub of Pike Street, and managed to orient yourself at the bus stop a few blocks away, the rain was drumming a fiercer beat than the brave buskers trying to earn a few bucks from passerby despite the inclement conditions.

Hood drawn tight about your face, you dodged your fellow pedestrians as best you could with your vision so limited to what laid directly in your path. You were met with success, ducking into the blessedly covered marketplace. Past the inexplicable statue of a golden pig surrounded by flocks of tourists taking photos and into the warmth of the covered walkway that wound between stalls and established shops alike. The warm air was filled with a myriad of scents; soft florals of the multitude of flower stands, the distinctive smell of fish and seafood fresh from the nearby piers, the hidden sour smell of so many bodies packed into the space. It was almost overwhelming and yet you found yourself enjoying it. It was not often you were able to experience it, and you wanted to commit it to memory in as much detail as possible.

Across the cobbled floor, dampened from the rain soaked soles of shoes that had preceded yours, your feet carried you, slowing their hurried rush to escape the less savory weather to a stroll that allowed you to take in the sights. Past the famous flying fish stand where experienced fishmongers tossed the large sea dwellers into the waiting hands of patrons in the crowd; past the classy restaurant that had managed to claim a small section of the market for the more upscale customers; past a natural food stand and another selling an assortment of wares tourists would brandish to prove they had set foot in this cultural hub.

You allowed yourself to fall into the current of tourists and locals alike, you falling somewhere in the middle as you marveled at some wares and rolled your eyes at others. But nothing caught your eye, and you weren’t keen on truly shopping here anyway. So you followed the flow of people until the line of shops once again opened onto the equally bustling street, blinking a bit as you stepped into the dim grey light. Pausing, you glanced about you before deciding to make your way toward the more formal shopping district a few blocks away.

A slight detour to secure a warm drink from the city’s famous coffeehouse, and you were puffing warm air into the damp chill outside the entrance to H&M. Another stream of chattering people helped you through the doors into the store, some trendy song or another filling your ears as you moved off to the side to avoid being run into. Idly you circled some of the sales racks near the doors, picking at vibrant patterns, and simple colors in fashion-forward cuts.

Intent on your search, you didn’t notice the new rush of shoppers come inside just as you rounded the rack. Your indiscretion found you colliding quite abruptly with an unexpected presence, a flash of gratefulness that you’d consumed your coffee and thus avoided splashing the beverage onto them flitting through your mind. The empty cup tumbled from your fingers as you stumbled a bit and reached for the nearest thing to steady you, which just so happened to be a pair of well-muscled arms that had reached for you. As you took a moment to regain your balance, you couldn’t help a twinge of vague recognition for the tattoos that spread across the tanned skin from beneath the rolled sleeves of the person’s shirt. Hadn’t you seen that design somewhere before?

Then you remembered your situation, and a muddled rush of apologies came tumbling past your lips. The words were met with a low chuckle that had your eyes sliding up the body in front of you to meet your victim’s, the sight nearly tearing a gasp from your throat as your own orbs widened in surprise.

“Nah it’s my fault, I wasn’t paying attention,” the guy supporting you assured, hint of a smile playing at his lips. You tried to remember the second nature act of taking in oxygen as a red-hot blush swept across your face. This became infinitely harder when a full smile lit his features at the wide eyes and dropped jaw you were now sporting. “I’m Jay.”

“I know.” The words sprang unbidden from your gaping mouth and you snapped it shut, mortified. Your blush darkened as he laughed again, polite smile now a genuine grin. “I-I mean, I’m…” You eventually managed to provide him with the syllables of your own name and he nodded, repeating it back almost as if he were testing out the sound. Your heart flopped funnily in your chest, eyes darting away from his to focus on a pair of heels on the rack next to you.

“Hey, I’m actually from around here,” he started and you resisted the urge to tell him that you knew that too. “How about I show you some of my favorite spots? You know, as kind of an apology for almost body slamming you into those ugly ass leopard leggings.” At that exact moment you realized your fingers were still resting on his biceps and you tore them away to run a hand through your hair in a manner you hoped was casual, the other diving into the sanctuary of your coat pocket.

“Th-that sounds like fun!” You agreed, hoping he couldn’t hear the nervous strain in your voice or see how your smile wavered shyly under his gaze. You instantly regretted chancing a look at him when you saw his smile bloom again and your heart tripped across your rib cage.

“Great, let’s go,” and you were left no choice but to follow when he turned to lead the way out.

You hadn’t been sure what to expect when you unthinkingly agreed to Jay’s proposal. Maybe he’d bring you to a place in the warehouse district on 1st where he used to practice the dances he was so known for. Or perhaps some hidden corner of one of the parks where’d he sat and thought about the path he wanted his life and his music to take. Hell maybe he was just going to ditch you in some god awful corner of Columbia or something and leave you for dead.

But lucky for you Jay stayed true to you, guiding you along the crowded streets and weaving between alleyways on your own personal tour. Even when he brought you somewhere you had visited in years past, you smiled and laughed at the stories he added to your own memories of the location. With every minute that passed in his presence you found your earlier nerves about being in the presence of someone you so admired slipping, replaced instead with a fondness for the boy beside you.

Pleasant surprise reigned once again when you were dragged (though not quite so forcibly) to a quirky shop of some persuasion you couldn’t discern from the sign. Tucked safely within its warm interior, it suddenly hit you again just who you were with. Sneaking a peek at him, you were startled to find his eyes meeting yours, almost as if he had been doing the same.

“I-is this another spot on the Jay Park Exclusive Seattle Tour?” you asked, trying to tease him and cover up the race horse of your heart in your chest. With a chuckle he shook his head.

“Nope, just looked good and I’m starving,” he replied simply and you snickered.

“Ah, so even the great Jay Park can be won over through his stomach.”

“Is that so wrong?”

“Nah, it’s cute.” The words tripped past your lips before you had time to think, but the raised brow on Jay’s face shed some light on your Freudian slip. “I-I mean, uh, oh shit.” The amused smile on his lips split into full blown laughter as you panicked.

“Pay attention or you aren’t getting anything to eat.” The unexpected reprimand was accompanied by a playful smack to the back of your head, effectively cutting off any rambling apologies or excuses you may have had. Flustered, you glanced at the menu and spat out the first item that looked even remotely edible.

Cowed into silence by your slip of the tongue, you followed him to a table, trying and failing to not overthink every move you made now. Completely lacking any of your usual grace (if you could be said to have even a modicum of the stuff), you flopped into the chair across from him, eyes glued to the granite table top. Jay remained silent, allowing you to wallow in your thoughts that he probably thought you were ridiculous, or even worse you had made him uncomfortable with your comment. God, could this get any more awkward?

Before your brain could spell out each and every way things could be infinitely more awkward, you were started from your thoughts by the appearance of your food. You glanced up from the plate placed before you to find Jay settling back into his seat, already beginning to devour the sandwich he’d ordered.

“Sorry, I should’ve gone to get the food since you paid,” you managed after a moment, your voice hushed with nerves. The reassuring smile he flashed your way sent your heart spiraling out of control and you could feel your blush making its return. You ducked your head, hoping your hair could conceal at least some of the red tint from his vision.

“Don’t be sorry. You say that too much.” He reached across the table and stole one of your fries, smiling teasingly. “Now hurry up and eat or I’m taking yours. I did pay after all, so it’s technically mine anyway.” Finding a small sum of courage with his teasing, you scooted the plate closer to you, rearranging your features into mock offense.

“Nice try but you already gave it to me so it’s mine now.” As if to stake your claim, you lifted one of your fries and pointedly ran your tongue across it before dropping it back amidst its brethren. You repeated the stunt with the top of your sandwich, too caught up in your joke to notice the way his eyes followed the action. “See? Would you really want those now?”

“Jesus, you didn’t have to slobber all over them, Scooby Doo.” You stuck out your tongue again and he pretended to cringe away. With a giggle you picked up your food, taking a bite and finding that you liked it far more than you expected, just as you did your companion.

After the food was consumed (Jay still managing to take a portion of yours hostage, not that you minded terribly) and your energy appropriately restored, you let him lead you from the quaint restaurant and resume your wandering. A glance at the perpetually gray sky, now several shades closer to the black of night, told you that it was probably time to get going if you didn't want to be stuck in Seattle until the morning. Before you could voice these concerns and your need to find the nearest bus stop, however, Jay stopped abruptly, you nearly crashing into him for the second time that day.

“What the heck Jay, say something before you stop like that!”

“Sorry,” he murmured with the presence of mind to look a little abashed at your reprimand. “This is my stop, though.”

“Your-- what?” At last you glanced at the building before you and were surprised to find a hotel. Oh. Of course, he was just visiting so he was probably staying here.

All at once it hit you. This was it. Jay would go inside to his hotel room, you'd board an overcrowded bus, and you'd never see him again except on sns and splashed across articles by zealous netizens. He would go back to Korea and lose himself in his music, and his memories of this day would disappear somewhere over the Atlantic. Your heart twisted painfully at the thought, but you did your best to hide it with another teasing grin.

“Why Mr. Park, what will the keyboard warriors say if they find out I was at your hotel? I should probably leave before they find us!” You made a show of glancing around as if looking for spies in the long shadows of the streetlights and he offered you a smile that didn't quite reach his eyes.

“You know… I'm still going to be around for a few days.” Your eyes dart back to him, though his gaze is focused on the cracked city sidewalk, hand resting on the back of his neck in blatant nervousness. You tell your heart to stop hoping so it won't be crushed later. “We could… Do this again.” Too late. But his words still take you by surprise, washing all other coherent thought from your mind.

“I… What? Huh?” Smooth.

“Today was fun, and I want to see you again,” he says, the words spilling out into the cracks between you rushed, as if he’s afraid taking too long will change your mind. A tentative smile spreads your lips.

“Really?” Your voice is small, hushed with the ghost of a younger girl with a dream like this, hoping against hope that it was really coming to life.

“Really. Gimme your phone.” You slide the device from your pocket and place it in his hand, committing the warm brush of his fingers against yours to memory. With anxious eyes you watch as they fly across your screen and then suddenly you're looking at a string of numbers with his name across the top. “Call me as soon as possible.” Bubbling over with happiness, a giggle escapes you as you tuck your phone away.

“Okay.” He smiles properly at your acquiescence and you think you could get used to seeing it, even if the return of your skipping heart tries to remind you no, you never would.

“It's getting late, you should probably go before it gets too sketchy.” You roll your eyes.

“This place is always sketchy,” you shoot back. “But I guess I should. If I miss the next bus I'll be stuck out here for another half an hour.” And yet neither of you moves. You, because you are afraid the moment you turn away this will all become a beautiful dream and he'll vanish with it, and he because of a reason you don't know and don't dare to guess. But it's now or never, so with your heart in your stomach you wave and turn away. You make it maybe three steps before those already familiar fingers close around your wrist, yanking you back around with a Wait.

And then before you can say anything or process how you're so much closer to him than you've dared to be all day, or the way his arms feel around your waist, or how wow his eyes are way nicer up close, his lips are on yours and holy shit this is the last thing you expected but you definitely don't object. Especially when you lean up just a bit and you realize that you can feel his heart beating just as fast as yours when it occurs to him that you're actually kissing him back.

It's only a second, a breathless, heart-pounding, everything you've ever wanted in the world, second and then he's pulling away, staring at you in a way that has your stomach doing back flips. And then, in true Jay fashion, he ruins the moment entirely to mumble you forgot this.

And fuck if that cheesy line doesn't make you want to kiss him again.

[rowdysakura]

title: I don’t know much (but I think the future’s looking brighter)

rating: g

part: 1/?

Zhe dips a wing, tail twisting and tail fins flaring in accordance. The tight, spiraling turn sends the early light of day rippling across zhir golden scales in erratic, fantastical patterns. Zhe continues to spiral until finally breaking cloud cover. Beneath zhir and the clouds lies the ocean. It’s rippling expanse dotted with dark, rocky spires and black stone plateaus hosting a rainbow plethora of zhir fellow dragons sunbathing. Several of the colorful heads rose up upon noticing zhir, bugling a greeting as well as stretching out their thought-touches to briefly brush across zhirs.

One Who Leaps from Cloud to Sky

A answering trill echoes from Sky’s throat, zhir thought-touch responding in kind. Zhe makes a few more loops about the gathering place. Sharp, slit-pupiled eyes scrape over the oceanscape, searching but not finding. None of zhir fellows seems distressed, except for a couple of brilliantly red hatchlings squeaking imperiously at one another. Yet, the feeling of unease which has brought Sky down refuses to abate.

The biggest of zhir Clan, a dully colored cerulean one, raises je’s great head. When je reaches out jer thought-touch to Sky’s with wispy, questioning tendrils, Sky reaches back. The dull buzz that comes from being around so many at once fades to the background as the two tie their thought-touches together. It takes only a moment, the two fitting themselves together with practiced ease—Sky is falling up, up, up, into the sky. Zhe is a drop in the ocean, swallowed up, pulled under in the vastness that is the je that makes up they, a ripple a bubble a gnat inconsequential—then zhe is zhe and je is je again. Separate but not apart.

Sky gives zhirself a mental shake, zhe will never get used to the sensations that came from first contact with Speaker, sparking amusement like faint rustling across the larger dragon’s thoughts. The elder dragon’s presence reminds Sky of the forests like oceans. Trees growing more gnarled, thicker, and tall like mountains until they block out even the barest hint of sun. Deep, quiet, slow, and unbearably vast.

And so very, very easy to get lost in.

Bright horizons—Speaker of Many Tongues—question? asks Sky.

Bright horizons—One Who Leaps from Cloud to Sky, Speaker murmurs in turn, thoughts dripping sedately into Sky’s. Buzz like scale mites—storm on horizon?

Feel uncertain—itchy as salt under scales, answers Sky, adding a turnabout questioning note to the end.

Speaker brushes over Sky’s nervous prickles with waves of calm.

See no harm—see no danger, assures Speaker.

Sky hums, thoughts buzzing with anxious doubt.

The hum echoes outside Sky’s head as the air abruptly fills with the weight of power. Of old, old magic. It’s covers everything, encompassing all of the Clan like warm sand. Sky feels full to bursting as home/protect/heart/safe wraps around zhir.

No harm comes, Speaker declares evenly, the magic lifting as je did.

There’s a knife edge glint to it, though. Fleeting but heavy with dangerous promise. Harm could come, that edge says, wrapped in all the certainty a millennia old dragon carries. And if it did, Speaker would erase it from existence.

One Who Leaps from Cloud to Sky believes Speaker of Many Tongues unconditionally.

Comforted, Sky allows zhirself to release the anxious rippling of zhir thoughts. Tension leeches from zhir as zhe pushes zhir thought-touch closer to Speaker’s. Close enough to feel the unwavering calm, let it wash away zhir remaining nerves, but not so close as to get lost in je again.

Thankful, says Sky, sincerity shining through their thought-touches like sun rays. Taking leave to fly—warm winds under wings—Speaker of Many Tongues.

Warm winds under wings—One Who Leaps from Cloud to Sky, replies Speaker.

There’s a hint of sleepiness to jers thoughts, that sags and seeps into Sky before they disentangle thought-touches. Sky shakes it off, neatly picking out little bits of thought-touch leftover from Speaker. Then, with three great flaps to regain the height zhe’d lost while coasting, zhe flew.

Speaker of Many Tongues has soothed Sky’s but that little nugget of something’s wrong something’s wrong something’s wrong still wriggles under zir sternum like a fat maggot. Some days, Speaker manages to silence that maggot. Some days, like now, je doesn’t, leaving a starved yet still malevolent parasite that would drive Sky’s mind in circles until zhe is right back where zhe started. On days like these, there’s not much zhe can do but tire zhirself out and hope tomorrow’s better.

Once alone with sea and sky, no thought-touches to be felt, Sky let’s loose. Twists, turns, barrel rolls; dead stops, climbs and drops; slow spirals, hovers and lazy patterns interspersed with straightforward runs of pure speed. On and on zhe goes, the exhilaration of zhir freedom and the increasing burn of well used muscle pushing back and back at the heavy thing in zhir chest. Lost in losing zhirself, Sky misses the starburst of excited thought-touch only to be wrenched back into the world by a nip at zhir wingtip.

Zhe snaps—literally—at the offender, zhir thought-touch spiking and spitting at the other’s in a way spoke volumes more than any roar.

The other’s thought-touch, that of a small dusk-orange welp, skitters away. The tiny thing lets out the most indignant yip.

Sky does roar, then. A thundering bellow that vibrates through the youngling’s chest as it physically skitters away. It glides along in silence several wingspans away, properly chastised, before edging ever warily closer. But by bit, until it’s invading zhir space once more. Its thought-touch needling insistently at Sky’s.

Sky lets out a whuff of irritation. Zhe dives abruptly towards the water, stopping when zhir claws skim the surface. The small one follows, clumsily but without pause, zipping under zir. Sky rumbles warningly and it zips out again, yapping pointedly. It’s thought-touch stretching and poking once more at Sky. Shaking zhir ridged head, Sky wonders who claims this little one and why they hadn’t taught it any manners.

A put upon sigh, Sky lets the young dragon’s thought-touch collide with zhir’s. Excitement crashes into Sky like battering ram, followed by so much blinding awe it nearly makes Sky dizzy. Their thought-touch is an incoherent mess. Images, thoughts, words, and emotions flinging by, unrecognizeable.

Another whuff and Sky sets to work on setting it right. Pushing, pulling, until everything slots into place putting it into sharp focus.

Bright Eyes—see flying—want flying! she shrieks, gleeful. Then, much more quietly, Flying together—teach—please?

Ah, the newest hatched of Still Waters Run Deep, Sky has heard of her—she’s unfortunately infamous for her clumsy mishaps. Her heart has always been in the right place, though, and she never lets her failures keep her down. It’s an admirable sort of determination.

Hm.

Sky cranes zhir long neck to look at Bright Eyes. Wide, blue eyes return zhir searching gaze. Eager. Challenging, even.

The golden dragon snorts. Peppered sparks of amusement flickering in their thought-touch. It brings up an angry lash of embarrassment from Bright Eyes. Sky taps her on the head with a wingtip.

Peace, Sky says, amusement still curling through zhir. Prove worthy—follow—keep as shadow.

With that One Who Leaps from Cloud to Sky banks sharply to the left, Bright Eyes letting out a surprised trill behind zhir before flapping doggedly after.

It’s been a long time since zhe has had a winglet, Sky thinks. Perhaps, it’s time for one again.

—

misc dragon things:

default pronoun for dragons is it/it’s. Bright Eyes pronouns change after they connect thought-touches bc those are her pronouns but Sky couldn’t know until they connected, hence the it beforehand.

winglets are younger dragons taken under an older dragon’s wing (lol). it’s sort of like an apprenticeship. dragons are actually raised communally, by three to five adult dragons usually, but sometimes the babies end up having a talent or interest their parents can’t help with. so, another adult will take them as a winglet to hell develop that skill. mentors are somewhat responsible for the care and well being of their winglets but not to the degree of the parents.

Clan is a group of dragons. not necessarily related by blood but they live together consistently and raise their dragonets together n such. Clans can b enormous or small depending on food/resources/space. some put names to their clan and some don’t. Cloud to Sky and Bright Eyes Clan is fairly large n has about 150-200 dragons at any time

Speaker of Many Tongues is an ancient fucking dragon lmao most dragons don’t live that long n this sort of makes jir the de facto leader but there’s no real leader of the clan (for this one at least). Je’s also part of the reason why the clan is so large, few dragons want to fuck with an ancient least of all an ancient’s clan.

Bright Eyes is a v generic baby dragon name lmfao, it’ll probs change over time bc that’s how dragons do n she’s just a baby! she growing! she don’t know whomst the fuck she is

dragons don’t use pronouns like you, I, we, they (referring to a group not individual pronoun) etc bc their thoughts are connected n it’s implicit in the thoughts (which I rly wanted to do more the whole telepathy thing but alas) what/who’s being referred to. it makes dialogue a bitch but I thought it was a fun challenge.