#i still have a mental image of an art i wish i could make from BOBBY'S NIGHTMARE | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

remcycl333 · 6 months

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some thoughts on imagination and fulfilling ALL your desires, no matter how small ♡

hiii! just wanted to share with you guys some things ive been thinking about lately and a new discovery!

so first of all! i went through a little phase this previous weekend where i could not imagine for the life of me. i just could not concentrate, and i kept hyperfixating on every little sound in my room and it was very frustrating. i also could not fall asleep because i usually use daydreams to lull myself to sleep and i couldn't daydream! it was very frustrating.

(side note--at one point i wished that my room would just be silent and then i lost power for a few hours and my room WAS dead silent for a while, lol)

but then i was scrolling thru loatwt, like i do, and i found this acct @/scriptercas and they made a couple of posts about the way they imagine (i like this one too) and i tried it that night and i was DEEP in my imagination for like an hour straight. like me??? adhd aphantasia me???

i know that a lot of you guys are like me and have aphantasia and therefore can't see mental images and you can get discouraged by imagining, but this is definitely my new holy grail and i think this will work so well for you guys too!

(p.s. if you guys are into shifting, that account has some great advice! i'd really recommend!!)

i also recently re-read edward art's series, which i have mentioned in recent posts. once again, i know ive also said this recently, but i highly highly highly recommend reading it (or listening, there's also an audio form) if you haven't already! even if you just read the first five parts. i swear if you are still struggling to fully grasp the law, after you read it you will get it. it's so good.

i bring this up because in a lot of the parts, edward talks about building the habit of fulfilling every single desire--no matter how small--that you have, as it comes to you. and i've just been ruminating on this so much lately.

i remember at the beginning of my loa journey, there would be things that i wanted and i'd kinda mourn the fact that i didnt have them... when i didn't have to. i could've just fulfilled myself. but instead i had the idea in my head that "i'll manifest my sp first, and THEN i can get my desire of receiving flowers." or, "i'll manifest money first, and THEN i can buy the expensive things i want" or "i'll manifest my new apartment, and THEN i can host dinner parties for my friends" etc.

but what i've been thinking about lately--prompted by edward--is that you dont have to want for anything anymore. i can give myself any and everything i want in my imagination. i don't have to wait to manifest something else first.

this has really bolstered my imagination game as well. everything you want to do with or experience once you have your desire, you can have/experience in your imagination right now. and it really adds to your imaginings. it really helps immerse you more and helps you capture the feeling of it being real.

for example, when i was manifesting my apartment, i had sooo many things i wanted to experience once i'd manifested it. i wanted to have my friends over for game night and cook them dinner and make them cocktails. i wanted to bake in my spacious kitchen and have fancy utensils and expensive ingredients. i wanted to shower in my fancy shower and use expensive bath products. i wanted my own vanity stocked with expensive makeup and perfumes. i wanted a large walk in closet with rows and rows of gorgeous clothing. i wanted to come back from a night out and leave my clothes strewn about the bathroom bc i was too drunk to put them away, and no one was gonna see them or yell at me for leaving them there. like some of the things i desired for were so mundane, yet i felt the absence of them in my life every day. for example: living close to a target, being able to make adventurous meals without worrying if my family members would like them, playing video games with my friends in my own living room.

everything i just listed were things i wanted so badly once i had my apartment, but whenever id run into the opposite in my every day life, i wouldn't fulfill myself at first. like i'd go to cook the same old dinner i cooked for my family every other night and i'd be like "ugh i wish i could be in my own apartment where i did the grocery shopping and i could buy fresh ingredients and make an elaborate meal instead of just having pasta and jarred sauce again." but then i realized that if i were in my dream apartment i would be able to do that. i spent so much time imagining waking up in my new apartment and what it would look like, but in the end, imagining stuff like this is what really helped me to fulfill myself and catch the feeling of the wish fulfilled.

i was really reminded of that whenever i re-read edward's series, and now im applying it to my new desires as well. it's so funny that no matter how much i manifest or how much i learn i always find myself forgetting little tidbits like that that really help me and are very valuable.

anyway i just wanted to make this post to help you guys a little maybe! i was just in the shower and i was remembering edward saying to fulfill every little desire you have--not matter how small-- and i was remembering the days i used to imagine myself in my current shower, and id close my eyes and imagine the scent of the shampoo i wanted to get and i'd feel where every individual bath product would be placed once i had my own shower. and all that inspired me to write this!

i hope that this helps you guys out and/or gives you imagination motivation! i feel like it's important to imagine all the small things that pertain to your desire that maybe you overlook while imagining, but that you know you deeply yearn for even if u think they're mundane or that you'll just get them once you get your big, overarching desire <3

#law of assumption

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alxndryngs · 6 months

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A Day Off

A/N: Since I am in desperate need of comfort/fluff, I came up with this. Enjoy!

———

Alcina’s favourite maid has a bad day.

———

Alcina, sitting in her atelier, was focused on her newest art piece. She only recently had gotten back into painting, and upon her new oil paints arriving, she had pushed work aside for once and hid away in her art room.

She even asked for her daughters to stay by themselves for the day, and put Bela in charge. Alcina wanted to dedicate herself to the work in process fully, without distractions.

The smell of fresh paint and sounds of birds chirping outside had fully consumed her, and hours passed without her noticing.

It was only when the feeling of hunger clawed at her throat that she noticed how much time had passed. Alcina called out, loud enough for the maids to hear.

“Yes, my lady.” Ingrid asked upon entering, her hands folded behind her back.

“Let y/n know I’m in desperate need of a glass of wine, and perhaps a small snack. She’ll know what to make me.”

Y/n had been her personal maid for almost three years at this point, having proven herself more than capable and worthy. Alcina took a liking to the girl, despite her wanting to admit it. She acted with grace, was humble and kind. Everything Alcina thought she herself was not, despite acting with grace.

The maid had left soon after, nodding before dismissal.

“Thank you, my-“ Alcina’s words ceased once her head turned and she was met by the image of Helena, and not y/n. “I asked for y/n, if I’m not mistaken.” Her tone now had a sharp edge to it, already feeling the annoyance bubbling up inside of her.

“Yes, my lady, I’m aware. But I was available, y/n isn’t feeling well today.”

Alcina paused, the paint covered brush slowly being lowered before placed down. It had surprised her that her little maid was feeling ill. In the years y/n had worked at the castle she might have fallen ill three times in total. Nothing could shake her, not even the freezing temperatures of the winter. Instead of freezing and sitting in front of her fireplace, she insisted on Alcina’s daughters receiving her firewood. ‘She didn’t need it’ she said.

“Well, send her the castle nurse. She will fix a remedy for whatever it is that is causing her to feel ill.” Alcina nodded, convinced this idea would be the solution. As the maid stood still, her mouth opening and closing to fish for an answer, Alcina snapped.

“Stop gawking at me like a dying bubble eye fish and do as I said! What am I paying you for?”

The maids mouth now stood agape in fear, and she stuttered for an answer. “I’m- my lady. I’m ever so sorry. A remedy from the nurse won’t help her. She’s just.. not feeling well mentally today.”

The maid paused, then adding in a panicked tone. “I apologise. I’m not sure if I was allowed to share that with you, Lady Dimitre-“

“I’m your employer, you’ll share with me when you last bled if I wish for you to.” Alcina growled, now standing and pushing the maid aside as she left her atelier.

As she strut through the castle, an anxious feeling overcame her. Y/n had always been collected and happy, and it seemed out of order for her to put work on hold. She had seen people die and burn because of Alcina’s wrath. People burning and screaming, being gutted, and managed to sleep like a baby. It confused Alcina.

She had slowed once entering the hallway leading towards the maidens rooms. Her heels thudded against the carpet, ceasing once having approached y/n’s room.

“Y/n?” Alcina called out, waiting for a response before gently knocking on the door with her knuckle. “Y/n, darling. I’ve heard that-“

Alcina stopped herself as the door opened. She fought the smile threatening to spread across her lips when y/n looked back at her.

“My lady.” She greeted, the same smile as always on the girls lips.

Alcina stood confused, licking her lips to moist them before pushing a smile back.

“Do you need me to wash your dress?”

Alcina’s brows furrowed “Pardon?”

“Your dress, my lady. It’s covered in paint.”

Alcina didn’t bother looking down at herself. Instead she shook her head and began to lean down, moving to step into the room as y/n stepped back to allow her to.

“I heard you were ill.” The stutter in y/n’s heart didn’t miss her. Alcina turned to look at her, waiting until she had closed the door before speaking again, her tone softer this time.

“You have always been by my side, ever since you came to Castle Dimitrescu. You’ve listened to me rant about my incompetent brother, complain over my business and daughters. You even dried my tears and blood for me. It is my turn to return the favour, my dear. Sit, and speak to me. What’s causing your little heart to beat this way?”

Alcina lowered herself onto the bed as she spoke. Y/n wasn’t sure if she had ever seen the kindness in Alcina’s eyes like there was now. It was inviting, comforting.

She obeyed, taking a seat next to her lady. It didn’t take long for the words to pool out of her, and all of a sudden, she had displayed the world to Alcina. Every single one of her concerns and problems laid splayed out before her, for her to look at and judge.

But instead, Alcina remained silent the whole time. Not once had she budged in to ask a question, even though there were multiple that burned on the tip of her tongue.

For comfort, Alcina removed the cream coloured handkerchief from her pocket. The Dimitrescu sigil was stitched into the corner.

Carefully, she had dried the maids tears. Her large hand cupped her cheek, and with the other she dried her tears.

Y/n cried, her face flush because of it and the embarrassment of crying in front of someone like Alcina. A wave of guilt overcame her for so freely unloading her problems onto Alcina.

“I’m sorry, my lady. I shouldn’t have burdened you with my problems, I-“

“Shush.” Alcina snapped, her voice immediately softening after. For a moment she hesitated, but then gently pulled her into her lap. She had to lift her slightly to her height to give her a proper hug. Alcinas gloved fingers ran through her hair, holding her close enough to feel her heartbeat against her own chest.

“Don’t ever say that. You are not a burden, or burdening me by speaking about your feelings. Your feelings are more than valid, especially in topics like the ones you have shared with me just now. I am beyond proud that you shared your concerns. It takes courage to speak up about one’s concerns. And from what I can tell, this has bothered you for a long time.”

Alcina gently peeled the maid off of her, only enough so she could look at her. Y/n had leaned on her only after moments, quietly crying into the woman’s shoulder.

Her hands cupped her small face, and Alcina spoke quietly.

“I want you to know that I always will be someone you can trust, and confine in. I’m here, and I’m listening. Do you hear me?”

A small sob bubbled out of her, and she nodded. Y/n’s eyes closed as Alcina pressed the most gentle kiss to her forehead, letting it linger enough for both of them to have time to relish in it before pulling away.

Her lips had left behind a red mark which she would make sure to remove later on. But for now, she was returning the hug y/n had given her. She had thrown her arms around the older woman, holding on tight as her walls began to fully break down and crumble beneath them both.

Alcina closed her eyes, holding her close as she swayed them from side to side. Whispering sweet nothings calmed y/n after a few minutes, and Alcina made sure to show her appreciation of the girl for the rest of the day.

“I started a new art piece.. would you like to join me in the atelier for the rest of the day?” Alcina offered with a smile which intensified upon seeing y/n smile at the suggestion.

She wondered if the girl would notice that it was her Alcina was painting. Taking a stroll through the Dimitrescu garden at midnight, the moon shining down on her.

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evelmiina · 4 months

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Friend asked me if I'm depressed, but I don't think I am at the moment. To be honest this year my overall mental health has improved, more stability and motivation in life overall. Being a little isolated and far away from my friends still sucks, but I'm making more art for myself and I have a nice job for now, which I'm thankful for.

I feel like it has been long time bubbling under, but I need to make my own stories even if they end up being stupid and bad. I've aspired and succeeded in finding work in entertainment arts and I've strived to become a better craftsperson, better painter and designer, to keep finding work. I still do want to improve and I adore 2D animation... but there's always some sort of underlying frustration or need to make my own things. I don't think I'm yet at place or if I ever will be, where I could just fully commit to it, for now it is just something I'm slowly trying to care for.

Maybe in part rise of image generation AI made me find determination to keep making my own things, a resolve and peace in seeing what matters. I still need work because I need to get by, but ideally I wish to work with good people and artists first, not bend myself over backwards to correspond to whatever I try to anticipate the industry needs. In a way I never have- I feel lucky to have just made things that resonated enough that I found work, but I always struggle because while it is my personal work that gets me hired, the job is not that. The job is painting and designing polished work and I am so frustrated with myself when I don't excel at it. I find myself trying to mould into being someone I'm not, someone I imagine has more tangible skills than, or an ideal of myself that I will never be. Put it this way if it makes any sense, I am not fully kind to myself and therefore I have often imagined if I was more disciplined or did so and so, I could be this or that. But this train of thought near took all the joy of creativity out of me, and convinced me there is no point in making things for myself, unless it was according to some ideals and expectations of myself.

In short I simply need to keep making bad things too. It is probably the only way I can better accept myself. I don't know where I stand in sharing them or how to approach sharing my personal art online, but all I can say creating is fun again.

#art vs artist 2023

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ask-the-royal-absol · 4 months

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(It has been one year since I joined the pokeask community with my silly absol. One whole year. How did I get here? Like, damn. It’s just been such a lovely community and I’ve met some truly wonderful people.

I’m sorry I couldn’t get more of you on here. I wish I had the time to draw each and every one of you. This is why I needed the head shot so thank you to everyone who sent it over. Thank you to everyone in this community for being my inspirations, my joy and my friends. I cannot thank you enough. If I could make you all something more to say thank you, I would. (Also forgive me if the image quality is garbage. Tumblr does that sometimes. If you click on it, it'll be clearer.)

I suppose I’ll just go on and say I’ve always admired the community from afar. So many stories I was following. So many inspirational people. The events. The characters. They are all so wonderful. And I followed these blogs for years.

Getting hooked into everything about the ask blog community. At first, I was going to making an ask blog about a royal Goodra/Vespiquen fusion who goes to other places to make political connections for their hive. I drew up a couple of concepts but I didn’t go ahead with it.

I kept following the community, constantly being inspired and amazed by everyone inside of it. I’d wanted to join a community for a while. At first, I joined the Pokémon fusion community. It was fun. I met some great people. But, after a few years, it didn’t fill me with joy. I did fusions on multiple platforms, even making some fusions for the infinite fusions game (they’re still in there). I had a go with commissions. It just became a bit of a chore.

I tried making my own region. It only lasted a month. It left a gap which I didn’t know how to fill. I also did dnd with friends which mostly satisfied this but we didn’t do it consistently enough. I definitely miss doing it. I probably did fusions for 6 years. The blogs are still up. There was nothing I wanted to draw consistently.

Near the end of last year, I had a really tough time. My mental health took a really big dip and I was struggling. It was an incredibly dark time. I didn’t have much going on. Maybe we were doing dnd. I don’t remember though. I started drawing Pokémon because I wasn’t in the mood to draw dnd art.

I don’t know why but I started to draw an absol. I think it may have been inspired by my current dnd character. As I was drawing this absol, ideas started to form in my mind about who this absol was and the world they were from. Ideas kept flowing and flowing.

Once the absol was finished, I drew another character, and another and another. And I just kept drawing. Soon, I started drawing maps and a prophecy for this absol and their world. The name Destino came from the word Destiny. It brought me so much joy. I worked on it for a few days and put it to the side.

Then came around the 27th December 2022. I looked back on my planning for this world and thought perhaps I could turn it into an ask blog. At first, I was so nervous. I didn’t want to go through with it. My partner convinced me to make the blog. That’s when I began to draw the first post. And on December 29th 2022, I created the blog and made a reference post for Destino.

Soon, the first post was posted and I got asks. Exciting stuff! And it was so much fun deciding how Destino would respond. More asks kept coming and I eventually started sending asks to others. The most exciting part would have to be seeing people follow me who I was a huge fan of. Gonna be honest, I’m still so incredibly excited when talking to these people and when they like my stuff.

My love for this blog grew and I’ve spent a lot of my time working on it. I have loved each and every moment of it. It was fun having this smug, egotistical absol interacting with many characters who I am a huge fan of and entertaining to see their reactions. Destino was becoming a bit of a thing. Memes were made of Destino. Destino was insulting every legendary they could come across. For me, it was hilarious. And it seemed others were enjoying their antics too.

I am incredibly thankful each day with every interaction, every like, every follow, every reblog, etc. I’ve had. I’m grateful for this entire community. Every one of you has been so friendly and I love talking to you. This community has filled a void which I wasn’t sure would be filled. And I hope I can continue loving being in this community for a while. Destino is going to stick around for a while. I’ve got big plans for them and I hope to enjoy this journey with you all.

Thank you everyone. I hope I can continue to work with you all and have fun! Let’s get ready for another year of Destino.)

#pokemon ask blog #pokemon #pokemon askblog #pokemon oc #ask blog #ask the royal absol #destino the absol #pokeask #ask #askblog community #pokeask community #mod goomy #long post #fanart Friday

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i520u · 7 months

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11:11 𓂅𓏲•₊˚

FOUR. 09:42

WARNINGS. gyuvin almost died but he didn’t he’s silly

First impressions have always been something you were passionate about. As in, you would definitely die on the concrete floor like a dried out frog, mouth foaming with bubbles if you were to mess your first impression up. First impressions are important to you, you already can’t stand with the thought of being perceived, but you can’t stop it from happening. So, the next best thing is to make sure the image they perceive is one that is… impressionable, at least.

That was, until today.

It was mostly your fault, but you needed to be petty and blame it on someone — and that someone happens to be your brother, Hanbin. Of course, Hanbin had woken you up extra early like you asked him to, but Hanbin’s also far too nice to pull something crazy like shut the ceiling fan off, or pull your leg to wake you up. You kinda wished he did, though — because you wouldn’t have been in this situation you were currently in, if he did. Again, not exactly Hanbin’s fault, but you needed somebody to blame.

You were about thirty minutes late to school. It definitely could’ve been worse, but this was your first impression, we’re talking about. It was like the universe was out to get you this morning. You overslept, your uniform hadn’t been ironed, your tie was missing. Of course, you’re aware that these are all the consequences of your own actions, but you really didn’t feel like beating yourself up any more than Gyuvin’s about to do.

As you reached the school compound, you could see a tall figure standing by the school gates. Despite his annoyed face, you couldn’t help but see how handsome he was. And — did he dye his hair? You had to mentally yell at yourself to stay normal and focused on the task at hand; you are Gyuvin’s tour guide, and that’s it. You can not afford to let your weird persona on the internet out.

“Hi.” You greeted, trying to ignore the elephant in the room. Gyuvin tapped his elbow with finger as he waited for you to finally reach him, he raised an eyebrow, and was about to say something snarky for sure. “Did you dye your hair? It looks good.” You say before he could utter anything, in an attempt to ease the tension.

“You’re late.” Gyuvin responded, and that practically confirmed your suspicions that he was furious. In fact, the lack of enthusiasm to his voice made it worse. “I’m sorry. It was my brother’s fault, I promise.” You raised your hand like you were admitting defeat. Gyuvin rolled his eyes, “I don’t care whose fault it was. You’re late and unreliable on your first day on the job.” He said with a smug grin on his face.

You frowned slightly as you began to walk towards the school building, “you don’t have to be so mean,” you murmured. A part of you wondered if Gyuvin was generally always this mean — or if something traumatic happened to him to be closed off forever like an anime backstory — probably the former, maybe he’s just an asshole. You shrugged. You’re used to dealing with assholes. Exhibit A, Sungchan, exhibit B, his best friend Jeonghyeon.

“So the first thing you’ll see when you enter the school is the hallways.” You explained, the hallway was empty since the first period had already commenced. Gyuvin didn’t talk much as you showed him around the first building. Truthfully, you weren’t sure if he was even listening. It annoyed you a little, but you felt like you had no right to feel that way in the first place. As a result, you just ignored the emotions building up inside you.

“This is the art section, if you have any art classes in your schedule, all classes would be located here.” You pointed into a different hallway, and Gyuvin still didn't say anything. You glanced at him for a split second to make sure he was at least looking at the direction I’m pointing towards.

The more the two of you continued walking around, the more awkward it felt for you. You glanced at Gyuvin again, and this time, it made him furrow his eyebrows. You could practically see the gears in his head turning as stared down at you, “what are you looking at?” He finally broke the silence with a frown. “Am I not allowed to look at you?” you find yourself saying something snarky back at him before you could even stop yourself.

That only encourage Gyuvin to banter more with you, though. He definitely had no problem arguing. In fact, it seemed like he was in the mood for it. “It’s rude to stare.” He said with a scowl on his face. “You’re rude.” You answered back. He had a look of amusement on his face, surprisingly. Like he was enjoying the back and forth between you and him. “I wouldn’t be if you were actually on time.” He said it in such a nonchalant way, but you just know he said it to piss you off, because you couldn't argue back against that.

So, it was back to being silent as you showed him around again, trying to act civil. Gyuvin knew he had won this round, and he had a smug look on his face.

You were soon done with showing him around the north wing of the school, and you contemplated doing something evil. It was like there was a little angel and devil on your shoulders debating with each other to tell you what to do. At the end, though, the devil won. Because you’re not always a good person — and that’s okay.

“Gyuvin, follow me.” You gestured as you turned your heels to walk towards a darker part of the building. Gyuvin followed you unsuspectingly, and you had to force yourself from rubbing your hands together like an evil cartoon character.

The both of you stopped in front of a large door, it wasn’t locked, but both you and Gyuvin could tell that the place inside was extremely dark. It was a gym pool under construction, so it was naturally off limits for students, but Gyuvin doesn’t know that.

“You should look around inside. All the kids do it, it’s cool.” You told him before taking a few steps back. Your initial plan was to just scare him a little in that dark gym pool. “What about you?” Gyuvin asked, he paused for a beat, “aren’t you gonna come in, too? You scared?” He flashed his signature annoying grin. “It’s dusty inside, I don’t wanna get my uniform dirty.” You answered swiftly.

You had to give yourself a pat on the back. That excuse rolled out of your tongue smoothly. You glanced over your shoulder to see Gyuvin think for a second before shrugging. He allowed himself to walk into the gym pool, and when the door closed behind him, you immediately walked back with the original idea of locking him inside for a good five minutes. Maybe annoy him, make him apologise for being mean, and say ‘please’ before finally letting him out. Well, that was the original plan, anyway.

Although, of course, karma didn’t wait long to hit you. Too bad you’re no Taylor Swift, and karma was definitely not your boyfriend nor a cat purring on your lap. This also goes without saying that it was because of Gyuvin himself, too. Instead of being fazed by the fact that you were about to lock himself in, he had gotten all nosy and distracted by his surroundings. Without thinking much about the repercussions that comes with being nosy, he decided to touch some of the things around. Hell, he didn’t even notice you locking him in.

On the other side of the door, you hear something falling and hit the concrete, followed by a loud thud. You weren’t sure what it was, but you knew it couldn’t be good. Your fingers moved on instinct as you unlocked and opened the door in a panic, your other hand reaching out for your phone for the flashlight.

You burst into the gym pool, flashed the entire place with your phone’s flashlight just to find Gyuvin laying on the floor, his head slightly bleeding. “Gyuvin!” You shrieked in horror as you ran to him, it’s not really common for you to see a 6’1” tall man lying flat on the floor like a crime scene episode you’d see on Buzzfeed Unsolved. It could not be a good sign either.

“Gyuvin!” You shrieked again, you put his head on your lap, and in hindsight, it was a tad bit dramatic for you to do that. Gyuvin let out a groan in response, from the scene in front of you, you could kinda imagine what had happened — a brick probably fell on Gyuvin’s head. Well, not exactly a brick — but it was something of those sorts. Not too dangerous, but his head was still bleeding.

“I’m calling the ambulance!” You say, your voice a pitch higher from panicking. Your complexion slightly paler, your forehead producing cold sweat, and your fingers trembling as you made your phone call. “Nnn… no…” Gyuvin murmured softly as you laid his head on your lap while you asked for an ambulance. “I’m not dead…” he added, almost scowling.

“Shh!” You scolded, while your free hand went to hold the part of his head that was bleeding as gently as possible. “Your head is bleeding, Gyuvin…” you say sadly, you stared at him apologetically too. “I’ll get you to the hospital, I promise. Just shut up and don’t waste your energy.” You added. It almost made Gyuvin chuckle, if he wasn’t so weirded out by the situation the two of you were currently in. You were so worried, when he wasn’t even badly injured. Sure, his head was throbbing from the open wound, but it wasn’t an internal bleeding or anything like that. It was just a wound on the head.

While yes, Gyuvin was a little weak because he had his head hit by something hard. But also yes to the fact that Gyuvin was annoyed because you were panicking for his well being. Even in such crucial times, Gyuvin managed to be irritated by your presence. He could barely process what you were saying to the telephone operator. The other thing he couldn’t process? The fact that he’s really enjoying being this close with you. He liked laying his head on your lap. In fact, he doesn’t even realise that he liked it. He swears he’s weirded out, but that’s only because he couldn’t exactly process his emotions and gather his thoughts at that time.

All he knew was that he didn’t like it when the paramedics took him from you when they transferred him onto the stretcher and into the ambulance. Although, of course, he wasn’t sure why he didn’t like it. Gyuvin told himself that it was probably just the comfort of being held after taking a literal blow on the head. He still finds you annoying. But would he jump on the opportunity of laying his head on your lap again? Well, yeah.

Everything was so bright inside the ambulance, you were there next to him, his visions were blurry, but he knew you were probably crying and muttering ‘is he gonna die?’ numerous times to the paramedic. He could’ve sworn you looked like snot was dripping from your nose, but he wasn’t entirely sure. It made him chuckle anyway, though.

Your face was the last thing he thought of before surrendering to his tired body. He fell asleep, but you were adamant that he was unconscious. Surprisingly, though, he managed to move his hand just enough for it to brush against yours. The motion was too subtle for either of you to notice it, but that was definitely Gyuvin’s body reacting. Reacting to what, exactly? Who knows.

Do you still hate each other? Maybe. Does your body crave each other’s touches after being close once? Yeah. Are either of you aware? Definitely not.

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SYNOPSIS -͟͟͞☆ gyuvin tells himself that he’ll be okay, and losing friends is a part of growing up. he firmly believes that having to move schools in a different city was the universe telling him to try again. he then meets you, and he hates you. he knows he should be thankful that you saved his life, but every time he sees you, he gets annoyed.

NOTE -͟͟͞☆ this was long overdue and i apologise friends but i’m so glad i finally finished writing this

🏷️ ; @lluvjjun @p-romise9 @daydreamer5006 @gvuyin @jayujus @meoszn @lovefooi @mins-fins @qunwooks @gyuvinfan @annoyingbitch83 @ilovegyuvin @igotkpoops @deafeningtyrantmilkshake @purerehua @xinxinyy @rickysgfundercover @loverb0yz @keita-luv @nonamenonamenon @sunoosluvr @flor206-blog1 @j4dorebooks @rksbae @alwayswook @idkwatodoanymore @livelaughlovelicky @dimplewonie @kdjdh @antwe @andsjun @soobiverse @jiseokzzz @countmekocho @minkkumaz @cowsidfk @softyminhee @raeewe @girlokarina @ihrtjeongin @hanjisbeloved @jiaant11 @ilovechanhee @keilovr @bbangricz @444yizhuo @qnrui @wave2love @iraa567 @backzuhaz @jakahbot @satoreu @doobinnies @yizhuotv @manduhao @onlyhoons @kyanmeai @taereae @beomibeom @pollabug @ilovewonyo @eternallyhyucks @ajybeo

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r0w0fie · 10 months

Text

Update on the CK situation:

I'm shocked I'm saying this but, instead of Carnivorekitty giving it some time to settle down & to use that time to grow . . He just deleted/deactivated his art accounts???

His Tumblr has been deactivated & his Ck twitter account has been seemingly deleted. The Lurking for Love twitter account is still up.

Edit 2: his art twitter is still up but the tag have been changed & the account privated. Any use of the direct link to the old tag doesn't work, hence why I thought it was possibly deleted.

He has changed his now deactivated Tumblr name to "don't make your fanbase on here" which says alot . . .

His Carrd has also been cleared out, including the Toyhouse account. Although his Ko-fi & Itchio are still up. You can see a preview to the old links in the second screenshot below.

Edit 1: his carrd has also been deleted now

He has renamed his previous Carnivorekitty twitter account to yeehawcrow and has privated it.

The background image was changed after the situation. This is just another jab at his fanbase, same as all his other account name changes.

His Niwi account, the one with the transphøbia & -ism interactions, is still up but has been privated.

The name change is still up which shows that he still stands by his views. Do with that info as you will, just no harassment towards said account please & thanks.

I hope this is the last time I have to say anything or update people on the issue.

Some personal thoughts & feelings under the cut ⬇️

I am now further disappointed with Tom. I do not know if he said anything before deactivating, like a farewell or a "will be back eventually".

If he had of simply given it some time, let the dust settle, realign his mental state and then try to figure out why this was so hurtful to his fanbase. He could of had a chance to return & continue on; if he wanted too.

Of course, not everyone would be happy to see him return. Not everyone would even interact with his accounts or be willing to be in the fandom again. But it was still an option, especially if he uses this as a learning opportunity, not just for past fans or present fans, but for himself.

I personally won't be supporting Tom unless some serious growth & acknowledgment is shown. Unfortunately, I don't think thats going to happen any time soon due to the examples & links above. It might never happen or it might take months/years.

I hope Tom is safe & I hope everyone else is safe aswell. Make sure to look after yourselves & reach out to those you trust if you're not doing too hot xx

For now I will change my hyperfocus from Jacob & co onto other games & characters. It hurts to do so but there are so many good peeps out there & we shouldn't be afraid to trust them. I hug anyone who now is because of this situation 🫂

I will forever be into Milo (@/solarchaotica's oc) & will be getting back into LoveLock so I can bully my fave character Walter even tho Seb is the fan fave lol

My personal feelings on all of this? It's shitty.

People defending all of the horrible evidence, without saying they don't agree with aspects of these "questionable" simply because they want to defend CK; is shitty.

People putting things in other people's mouths, is shitty.

People burying their heads in the sand because they want to ignore it all; is shitty.

People giving excuses, even excuses as to why they are ignoring this issue or ignoring certain parts of this issue, is shitty.

People who genuinely support these types of beliefs, only joined in because they're genuinely phobic & aren't even in the L4L/murdersim community; is shitty. (& Yes I've seen it happen)

People who harrass anyone involved, Tom himself, is shitty.

People who use this as evidence to defend other past users actions, is shitty.

People who lash out their hurt through nasty words & ill wishes upon others, is shitty.

People who say anything about Tom or others ky$-ing themselves, are super mega shitty like wtf??? Don't do that???? I only saw one person but still????

It's all just super mega shitty and I hate it so much and it hurts so much to see other people be so so hurt and just aaahshsgskxbdjfb. I cried the first day, not because of my personal feelings, but because of others talking openly about how hurt this made them. Seeing my friends be hurt. Strangers be hurt. Mutuals be hurt. I could still cry if I let myself dwell on it for too long.

I wish things could of ended up better. When I posted on the situation I tried to tell peeps to keep an open mind & to look after themselves. I just hope this is a learning experience for alot of people.

#murdersim #jacob alden #carnivorekitty #lurking for love #jacob lfl #l4l #niwinoodle #tw: discrimination #tw// lgbt+phobia #tw// transphobia

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nachofuck3r · 5 months

Text

Johnny Cage x Depressed, friend! Reader

Just a cross post from ao3 for the poor people of Tumblr.

Art was kindly done by @unabashedfacecreator

I also feel it's important to mention that you are not in an established relationship but just friends with weird tension tho.

Cw: hurt/comfort, implied body image issues, depression, suicidal thoughts, also fluff and tender Johnny

There's a spot on the ceiling, but as much as you'd love to move and clean it - you can't.

It's been minutes since you last moved, maybe even hours - not like you're counting. Everything feels numb and you yourself feel as though you are a void, not a person - but just a never-ending dark hole that only takes and never gives.

Friends, Family even haven't seen you in weeks, month partly. You could be dead for all they know - you really wish you were. You've done nothing but burden these people, it feels like all you are capable of is relying on others.

Bzzzzz

A vibration stirs you from your self-destructive thoughts, you move your eyes to the left. There lays your phone, running on only 16 percent but still vibrating with vigor, that you could almost be jealous of.

You will yourself to move your head to the side to get a glance at the screen, maybe even see if someone actually texted you. But to no avail, to see who is contacting you, during your lingo, you'd have to sit up.

You move your head back to its initial starting point, staring at the ceiling. You're almost tempted enough to fall back into your earlier trance.

This position is comfortable and familiar, there is nothing you can fuck up about this.

Bzzzzzz

Your finger begins to twitch, muscle memory most likely - you really need to get off that phone more often.

Back to your original thoughts, who texted you? With all your mental might you pull yourself together and attempt to sit up. It's slow and unsteady but you will yourself up with one quick movement. A few bones that have been stuck at an angle finally move back to their original resting places and make light cracking sounds. You groan, then falter. You haven't heard your own voice in a while. Speaking feels like a weary task, anytime you try it your lips start to wobble and tears collect in your eyes. You are just embarrassed at this state you're in, not good for or at anything.

Bzzzzz

Oh right- the phone

Your hand reaches for it before your mind can start to wonder again. The movement of pulling your phone back towards yourself activates the lock screen. You are greeted with a picture of your dog with.....

Fuck

Johnny

Bzzzzz

The phone vibrates in your hand, almost shocking you enough to drop it. Now you finally look at the messages you got, all from the same person. You unlock the screen and read the messages on the notification bar.

Johnathan chachow: Hey!

Johnathan chachow: I'm back from my trip!! You will never believe the shit I've seen a and been through.

Johnathan chachow: I feel like I skipped 100-character arcs and 30 potential flop eras

Johnathan chachow: been around for a while and been meaning to hit you up! I miss PEANUT and you ofc!!

The declaration makes you let out a huff, peanut is your dog. But you've given her temporarily to your parents for now since they said they'd love to have more reasons to go out.

You were very grateful they attempted to cover up initial their taking of your pet with their own excuse. Masking the straight facts, that you just couldn't take care of her right now. After forgetting to feed peanut two times, in one week you called them.

You recall their voices - laced with concern, after hearing the initial shake in your own tone.

Bzzzz

Johnathan chachow: This is the point where you'd be like: "Oh Johnny, I missed you so much, please come over to my place! So, you can cuddle with peanut (and potentially me) for the rest of the weekend"

Rest of the- you fumble to take a look at the date on top of your screen and to your surprise, Johnny was right. It's only Friday afternoon. Like in a trance, you click the messages and get transported to the chat immediately.

"Shit" your voice comes out as a hoarse rumble, furthering your flabbergasted state.

No time!

You need to think of what to answer now! Johnny only just texted you this so the chance of him still being in the chat are high. Which means he saw you reading the messages, which in turn means he's expecting an answer.

Especially after the trip he took, he was gone for months and still remembers you from a time where your life and self-respect weren't completely falling apart.

You type out a few starters but they all get deleted, because you feel as though they are insufficient - not unlike yourself.

You don't even know where to start. You really wish you'd have just let yourself fall back into your original trance, staring at the dirty ceiling.

Not this: sat up on your messy bed, surrounded by mountains of stinky laundry and a few food wrappers. With the hand not holding your phone you pinch the bridge of your nose, hoping it'll help your brain work faster at processing what to write your friend.

You: Hey! Glad to have you back.

You: My flat is a little messy right now

You nervously watch as the messages you typed out go immediately to read - and as Johnny gets to writing.

Johnathan Chachow: Okay?!?! That's not a no. Soooo.

Jonathan Chachow: I'm coming over and bringing takeout!!

Your jaw promptly drops, Johnny has always been very overly forward and friendly like this and you usually don't mind.

But that's because before you always had your shit together, which cannot be said about you and your life’s current state.

The house: an absolute mess, your life: an absolute mess and mostly you being an absolute mess.

And now your best friend of 5 years is about to witness you in this state. Johnny's messages give you an adrenaline rush you could've used weeks ago and you jump out of bed.

Rapidly your fingers start hitting the screen, as you move through the muck on your floor.

You: No really don't!! It's like really messy and I already ate!

Lies except for the messy part, you haven't eaten since Tuesday and at the thought of food your stomach grumbles like a traitor. Hurriedly you start picking up things around the house, you try your best to sort clothes and trash into separate bags but if you're two pairs socks and underwear lighter after this endeavor, you'll blame it on your fussy state.

As you scramble to bring order to your house you hear another -

Bzzzzz

You look around trying to pinpoint where in this mess you left your phone.

Bzzz

There on top of a hill of dirty t-shirts, it vibrates once more.

You grabble for it, unlocking it immediately.

Johnathan Chachow : I haven't seen you IN MONTHS!

Johnathan Chachow : Babe, strap in, I'm coming over, even if I have to climb a mountain of dirty panties.

You chuckle nervously at the message, your dry throat protesting, not soon after.

After letting out a few coughs and you try to get back to cleaning up - seeing there is no point in trying to convince Johnny otherwise. And as you accidentally drop your phone in your run around the house it hits you.

What about you, your body has been marinating in nothing but misery for weeks. You don't even know when you last took a shower. Haven't even looked in a mirror for forever - but one thing is for certain, you must look like shit.

Suddenly the stench of your clothes hit your nose and your nose scrunches up in disgust.

Ignoring your strange odor, you fumble for your phone and immediately bolt for the bathroom. Since you only used this place for dissociated cry sessions and peeing, it was kept fairly clean, despite your effect on the other rooms.

After taking a glance in the mirror, you don't need to be corrected.

A shower is in order immediately, though by the looks of it so should be sleep. Eye bags as prominent as Johnny's personality have formed under your eyes and not the sexy vampire kind of eye bags.

No matter, you splash your face with water and then get to peeling of your well worn clothes. Skillfully avoiding your reflection in the mirror as you discard layer after layer of clothing. You step into the shower and as you turn on the water, you feel the adrenaline starting to wear of. With the pressure of the water pattering down on you, weariness starts to set back in. You shampoo your hair quickly and soon remember you've run out of body wash about a week ago.

In your hazed state you use the shampoo as a substitute, telling yourself it's better than nothing. As you're attempting to scrub yourself clean, you catch yourself trying to not look down, as if to avoid eye contact with your body. You don't need to be even more brought down, you just need to get this done and get it done before-

Ding Dong

Fuck

You quickly turn of the shower, grab a relatively fresh towel and wrap it around yourself.

The floor squeaks as you almost trip over your own, still wet, feet - to get out of the bathroom.

The trash and laundry you half-heartedly have assembled still lies in the living room, you grab for it with your still wet hands, placing it temporarily in the tiny storage room next to your bedroom. I'll take care of it later, goes through your head as a knock can be heard from the front door.

"yEah I'm coming" you rasp, yell out as best as you could. Wishing that Johnny would grant a few more seconds of dignity. Though it seems as though some other higher power had another plan, as you hear the sound of keys jingle and the door knob turn.

"That's what they always say to me" - he boasters as he enthusiastically opens the door, only to let the doors fall open by itself as his eyes fall on you.

Let me die, if there is a god out there kind enough to hear my wish, strike me down.

His shocked expression turns into one of mischief.

"If I'd had known you were on the menu tonight, I wouldn't have brought Chinese" he leans against the door, propping the hand with his keys against his hip. Warmth floods your entire being, as you stand there, still almost naked and your flat looking like it's been ransacked.

"I-" after attempting to speak you immediately regret not having had something to drink yet. Your dry throat refuses to let you speak and betrays you with a coughing fit. Toppling over, you hear Johnny rush to place the takeout bags down and move to your side.

"Whoa whoa. Hey let's get you sat and hydrated" "and scoop" he catches you off guard, by picking you up gingerly, you can only let out a small surprised gasp - as he sets you down on the coach.

"Sit" he utters, giving your back an affectionate pat - before moving to the kitchen. As you sit there you think about how ridiculous this whole situation is. Because there is no way this man, your best friend, is seriously wearing star shaped sun glasses on his head, while you have a coughing fit in only a towel.

"Here you go" Johnny renounces his presence by gently taking your hands and wrapping them around a fresh glass of water. Your dry throat cries out for the beverage as your slightly shaky hands put it to your lips. As you just about finish the glass, placing it down on the coffee table in front of you. Johnny starts to take the place surrounding you two. Looking at him like this makes you want to burst into tears.

"Done a little, mhm redecorating?" he asks, And usually Johnny's teasing was taken by you with grace or even a comeback, now and then.

Now though as the whole situation sinks in again, you can only feel tears building at the corner of your eyes.

"You-" your lip wobbles and Johnny's carefree smirk turns into a frown.

"Oh sweetheart" he mutters kindly as you feel tears bursting out eyes. Johnny embraces you on the couch and you can only pathetically sob into his shoulder as he pats your back.

"This is s-so" - start to speak and even though you drank some water you still feel your throat closing up as you try to press more words out "e-embarrassing" As you utter the last word out Johnny slowly pulls you back to look at your, now tear ridden, face.

He gently brushes over the still ever-growing tear stream, going down your face.

"What are you even saying?"

"I-I just- I'm half naked, my best friend-" you gulp loudly to ease tightening throat, "Who I haven't seen in months keeps doing all this nice stuff for me- *sniff* and I just, can't even function enough to pretend as if my life isn't absolutely shit."

Listening intently Johnny's eyes wander over your face as he takes both your cheeks in his hands.

"It's okay. This is nothing to be embarrassed about, everyone hits a tough spot once in a while. Even a big guy like you and me" He explains as he brushes his thumb over your cheek. "You are single-handedly the kindest, most beautiful and skilled person, I know"

"and you're human, most importantly, it's okay to not always perform or work. You gotta take care of yourself, doll" He lets his right hand drop from your face to your hands, gently he lifts yours to his face and nuzzles his cheek against it matching, his other hand on your cheek. "You've pulled me outta hell, back when Kris and I split" he speaks softly, not once breaking your gaze

"Do you remember the state the mansion was in?" he earnestly asks as you rake your mind for pictures post Johnny's divorce It was such a big house, so it truly never felt too littered or cramped even with the dirty formal clothing, ice cream pints and tissues all over the floor.

"Yeah, but mostly the immense amount of chocolate chip and mint, ice cream you ate" He slightly cringes at the mention as though he can still taste the ice cream now.

"Ugh, even now it makes me shiver, in more than one way."

"Ahem, my point being, It was a mess and I was a mess."

"A hot mess even, and not the good kind" he rambles on. "Back then - You, were the only person that truly had my back"

"Sure, I still had my mom, bless her, not really my dad, fucken asshole he is, but you were always there when it counted." his tongue moves out to wet his lips and your embarrassed to admit your eyes followed the movement.

"More than anything you talked me through a bunch of panic attacks."

"and helping you with this" you scan the room out of the corner of your eye. "is the absolute minimum, a guy like me, can do for an angle like you"

Any other time you would have probably bristled and teased him about the nickname but now just hearing him say it is enough to make you want to cry even more.

"I don't deserve you" you utter out brushing your own thumb over his cheek. His hand drops from your cheek to your shoulder and he pulls you close enough for a kiss.

Your foreheads knock together gently, as he opens his mouth to utter.

"You deserve all of me"

Tears still drying on your cheek and to your surprise a few tear-tracks also run down Johnny's face. Not knowing what else to say or do you finally point out the still very much elephant in the room.

"Can I put some clothes on?"

"Whaaaatt? Why? I love the au naturel look." He barks, intentionally letting his eyes scan you from head to feet.

You furrow your brows at him, but smile nonetheless.

Then you look back at your bedrooms door and remember that you haven't done the laundry in a while.

"I- shit... I don't have any fresh clothes"

"Oh would be a waste if I didn't take of mine as well, so we could match" He jests as he gets up and drops his coat on the couch.

"Harhar, seriously though gimme a sec I'll just see if I can find an-" but johnny holds up his hand, to stop you short.

Then in a dramatic gesture takes your hand in his. "Fret not my dear. For I am ever prepared and brought spares" He winks, as he bolts up and jogs to the front door revealing a bag you hadnt noticed he had earlier.

"I thought I was probably gonna crash on your couch tonight anyways-" " and as someone who has already gotten mouth wash all over his shirt and shorts once. " - "I have brought spares spares"

He ceremoniously takes a shirt and a pair boxer shorts out of his bag and gingerly drops them in your hands.

"There you are, your highness" His trademark charm up to a max again as you still gape at the clothes.

"Wow, you really are my best friend, who totally didn't soak his shirt with my bottle of mouthwash once"

"Ouch, how ungrateful and cruel you are, your highness." He jokingly puts a hand over his heart before moving closer to your face.

"Get to changing before I change my mind" He whispers playfully, with a certain suggestiveness to it that you'd rather deny has an effect on you.

Brushing of those weird feelings you start heading to the bathroom as johnny sets up your living room for a movie night.

After you've successfully changed into the shirt and boxer shorts, you make your way back to the living room.

There, also in a shirt and boxers sat Johnny contently staring at the work he’s done. He’s gotten rid of all the newsletters, letters and magazines that you always trust from your mailbox straight onto the table. If that wasn’t already a feat of its own Johnny has plated the takeout boxes contents up on plates, still steaming from the microwave and prepped two sodas with ice cubes. You didn’t even know you had ice cubes.

"Hey there sunshine, glad you could make it –" he eyes you in his clothes and halts.

He takes a surprisingly laboured breath before motioning to the spot next to him on the couch.

"I like the look you had going before but this" he eyes you up and down over his ridiculous star shaped sunglasses. "This i could get used to"

"Don't cream your pants, your shirt is not nearly as loose on me as I’d like it to be"

"Ughhh~ too late- plus that's makes it sexy, leaves less to the imagination and more to the eye" He clicks his tongue as he theatrically shakes his hips, as much as possible while sitting.

"Sexy? Can’t spruce up what cannot be saved by sprucing" It’s all fun and games with you usually flirting and complimenting each other but you've never done this before.

Say how you freaky feel, maybe you haven’t ever felt like you do now about your body. But you surely do now and He eyes you critically, how brows knit together.

"Hey, that's my friend you're talking about. And they are" He moves in closer.

"the sexiest bitch" Closer "I know, aside from me" He grabs your cheeks with on hand, successfully squishing your face.

"So, don't come around talking shit about them here" You regard him wide-eyed, as you feel his warm breath grazing your face.

"Understood?" he says, his gaze absolutely keeping you in place, unable to move.

"Jeez Luis, understood, now let go you brute." you try to lighten up the atmosphere , giving his chest a light shove, as you pull back from his grip, adjusting your jaw.

"Damn you really got a tight grip there, where ever you were these past few months, really gave you a new edge" you jest as you try to put a little distance between yourself and him.

He giggles slightly and you swear you see him kick his feet.

"You really think so? I was feeling it as well!"- "My journey though outworld really leveled up my charisma"

"Outworld?" you let out a huff, grabbing your plate with fried noodles.

"Yes! Oh, I've got so much to tell you!" he exclaims excitedly, giving you an absolutely blinding smile

You listen to his vibrant display, eagerly as he tells you more and more of what he has been doing these past months. If he didn't show you the pictures, videos and his group chat with Kenshi, Kung Lao, Raiden and Liu Kang, you probably would've thought he was telling you about his upcoming movie plot.

But as Johnny vibrantly shows and tells you about his escapades these past few weeks, you're just so grateful he's better than he was before this trip.

It goes to show that things actually do get better, from an absolute movie star mess, to a guy who traveled outside of 'earthrealm' as he called it and on top made new friends.

It gives you a glimmer of hope, for your own endeavor and seeing how eager Johnny was to meet with you, helps as well.

Because to Johnny you are more than a broken machine, but his friend and perhaps more in days to come.

#johnny cage fanfiction #johnny cage #X Reader #x m!reader #x gn!reader #mk1 fanfic #mk1 x reader

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alessabriel · 2 years

Text

Y/n Wayne!Venom! x Batfamily

Grayscale – Y/n Wayne!Venom! x Batfamily

Summary: [Name] was a shadow among his family, on patrol and only stands out from cameras outside, every important aspect of his life was gray in a great colorful work of art, even if he tried 200% he would never stop be monochromatic or so he thought until the destructive arrival of something.

Cw: blood, typical canon violence, mention of suicides, self-esteem and mental issues, parental neglect, if I missed any let me know.

...

↻[Name] Wayne was an idealized image of the perfect young man on camera, academically intelligent, with a quick mind and a wide range of both skills and abilities that further embellished the image of the Wayne family, the perfect golden Son of the family that every father and mother would like to have in their family nucleus. You are a natural of the cameras and benefit galas, focused on "strange" tasks of society such as mental health and awareness of it, motivating various causes related to the slums of Gotham.

↻ It was a hell carefully brushed by a very selected grayscale to give a cover to the real [Name] that was hidden in plain sight, a sleepy, perceptive, certainly melancholy, intelligent boy, with a photographic memory and capable of creating a thousand masks if necessary to hide yourself even from your own family.

↻ You couldn't complain about your lifestyle, your situation and your present because you didn't need anything, you had everything and you had a clear excess of resources at your disposal. Or so your father told you between the lines; Bruce Wayne when (in the past) you went to him for support, answers and fatherly love, very things that you accepted over time would never come because you were average.

↻Your brothers would always be 1000% and you would always be 100%, you didn't need verbal confirmations of it when Damian's or Timothy's events were more important than yours, when Jason's problems were bigger than yours and when Dick was always the perfect and self-sufficient older brother in the eyes of your Father. You, you were just an entity in Wayne Manor.

↻ You stood beautifully behind everyone, with your lips sealed so tightly that you could have sealed them permanently if you wished, and a perfect mask over your face masking everything about you, no matter how much you stalled for it.

↻ Now despite that indifference and abandonment, it affected you considerably when you were less than 10 years old where you wanted and yearned to be like your older brothers, like your father and make them feel proud of you. But now it was just a litany of childish nonsense that an idiot child wished for, and now all of that, although still burning, did not have the same effect as before.

↻ Painfully it no longer hurt like before, there was a perpetual numbness since the event of your eighth birthday celebration, your first birthday two years after the death of your mother about which you would never say anything and the one that would be celebrated as a family, the memory is nothing more than an uncomfortable thorn in your flesh.

|| The garden had been meticulously adorned by Alfred Pennywort who gladly brought his young teacher [Name] behind him, who cheerfully and happily helped as much as he could without ruining anything.

Alfred never remembered seeing him ruin something and that stung his soul, he knew the cause of such unnatural perfectionism.

The decorations of the celebration were in their place, the favorite foods that you adored and the vipers that you loved so much in their houses guarded by special caretakers. Little Wayne couldn't stop trembling because of the joy that his birthday caused him, his brothers would come and Father too, so everyone would eat cake and hang out outside the night patrols.

And Alfred could not feel sadder to see the guests arrive but not the ones [Name] wanted, he saw the sweet boy little by little stop smiling so animatedly to put on a polite and courteous smile with all the guests as much as his friends. The evening had been perfect and a satisfying birthday, despite the absence of the family.

But nothing, in all his years, would prepare him for what he would witness that night; before the patrol [Name] was still down so his performance had been low resulting in injuries and friction burns with many thugs escaping, which had set Batman's mood for the limitations of hell itself.

So when an innocent question emerged from [Name] in the healing process it caused a nasty surprise snatch from Batman, from Bruce Wayne father of [Name] Wayne, father who in his hurt and fed up euphoria had worsened the wound in the side of his youngest son's jaw, so much so that blood splattered and the skin split open unbelievably (scar you'd hate in the future), not like the older Wayne cared.

"Your birthday doesn't matter, what does matter is your poor performance on patrol, you could have died out there but you're still thinking childish and ridiculous thoughts" Bruce hissed putting aside the bloody tweezers, ignoring his youngest son's stinging tears, ignoring knowing the pleading look in those glaucous eyes and ignoring, in fact, he was just a child "Grow up for once, a birthday means nothing, you are only becoming more inept and incompetent since your mother's death, you do not improve in any"

Words that became heavy on [Name]'s body, clinging with lethal force to his flesh and with no sign of leaving any time soon. Perhaps Bruce Wayne had had a bad day, perhaps the words of his youngest son provoked him unexpectedly, there were fresh memories that were not from that night. Whoever it was left a silence after his crude words towards a boy who only asked if he remembered his birthday.

It all embedded so deep, taking root in bone and muscle, attacking a tender heart.

The cave never seemed as cold to the minor as that day, that day that [Name] saw his Father's back walk away with quick and furious steps, the same path from which he had no turning back. Only [Name] couldn't know it yet.

"Young Master [Name]-"

“Okay, Father was busy I shouldn't have asked. My mistake"

Words would never eclipse the bloody wound or the tears that burned in the open wound in the tender skin as in the heart.

That just opened a huge gap. ||

↻ After the event there was an apology and a new party with your brothers Dick and Timothy, you could quite easily remember walking on broken glass in the whole party that you didn't enjoy, a party decorated with colors that you hated to the point of feeling the bile in your throat, there was food that you did not like that you ate by force feeling disgustingly bad, you felt trembling when you saw the dogs that they brought as a birthday present and that terrified you so horrible but still you smiled, laughed and celebrated a birthday that no longer you liked it The events of that type continued to bring out their endless flaws in the field and you discovered the perfect way to run away from them, not be accountable, not talk about anything with them unless it was strictly necessary and live your life to your liking and way. .

↻ The masks became part of your life, your routine and your existence, if you disliked something but you knew you would be judged, you kept it deep in your chest and forced expressions according to it even if it made you more numb. Even if it hurt and you ended up not being able to recognize yourself in the mirror (because you didn't and that made you mad), even if you felt down because it didn't really matter.

↻ Thus your performance on patrols increased because you ignored your own well-being for the sake of the mission (just stared blankly at Timothy and told Dick to hell), your miss stats dropped to zero due to your recent inability acknowledging your own pain, your training was more rigorous to the point of being painful, centimeters away from self-torture, and Batman's praise became normal, but disgusting in your ears, because you didn't need a verbal acknowledgment because you knew of what you were capable of and what you achieved alone, of what you forced yourself to endure in order to put those feelings to sleep.

↻ Maybe because of that, maybe because of your self-confidence and an unfortunate series of events happened, it happened in the middle of a mission to dismantle a foundation that was experimenting on humans and you were clearly the best prospect to go to it, and you did. You ignored a concerned Alfred for your own good and made sure to come back safe, even if you did as little as possible to get back in one piece.

↻ Although your instincts told you no, that your being felt even heavier and your hands tingled. Because you didn't tolerate experimentation and you knew you would murder, you knew it and that stupid rule would be the noose around your own neck.

↻ Nobody cared about it, only Alfred but he had no control over it.

↻ And it happened, you managed to effectively dismantle the facilities and free the living while accounting for the dead, it was the moment you walked away from your older brothers and father that happened.

|| You needed to get as far away from the scene as possible and be able to smash your head against glass, against solid concrete and force yourself to disguise your expressions, because of your intense emotions you did not pay attention to the only open container that still contained life in it and that broke the glass with such force impacting with everything against your body whipping you against the wall.

You hissed in pain and with a force that you drew from the confines of your head you smashed your head against the wall with hate, with rancor and disgust. You had to control your emotions, your feelings and not let them see you, you wouldn't let them. The compliments disgusted you to the point of feeling the bile rising in your throat, the recognition that you didn't want made you vibrate with anger and your weakness made you angry.

Same anger and courage that made something bubble inside you, something you didn't recognize in time and no one could detect. ||

↻ Once the mission was over the changes started, you couldn't blame the teenage hormones because it never happened to you, it wasn't some sickness of old because you didn't get sick, it wasn't badly treated wounds and it definitely wasn't the stress of the arrival of your new younger brother Damian. It mattered little to you, you only inhabited the mansion to sleep and prepare for the missions, passing by his intense attempts to assassinate you, to emphasize to you that he was the favorite son.

|| Tiredness gave you the bill after continuous days without being able to fall asleep and constantly vomiting food, the backpack on your shoulders was heavy and the blade that you stopped with your bare hand only made you sigh. It was your new "little brother", another unfortunate child who would die following an outside cause. And that provoked you, caused you to drop that finely crafted and executed mask.

If you were paying attention properly you might have seen the green-eyed minor wince before your vacant eyes. Damian could only look at you and try not to let go of his grip on his blade, your expression intimidated him but he wouldn't let it show.

"Just to remind you that only I am the one who makes Father proud and I carry the Wayne blood" assured the youngest of the family.

Maybe the cigarette you smoked on that shabby dance floor with Adam didn't calm you down or you were fed up, who knows. But those words made you laugh at it, knowing that all children were only a kind of reusable and disposable soldier if what happened with Jason told you anything. They were grudges that you would take to the grave.

“If I could stop being a blood Wayne, I would. So get out of my way kid” you hissed snatching the blade from his hand throwing it until it was embedded in the wall next to you, that before you left “Get lost Damian”

And Damian's heart squeezed seeing such palpable but hidden suffering in your eyes, you weren't like the others and that definitely scared him as much as he liked it. However, little did you know that you inhabited the huge mansion just enough and necessary, even if you worried Alfred and Jason with it.

You didn't know that you caught Damian's attention with it, while you locked yourself in your room. ||

↻ In the days after the mission you couldn't even hide your discomfort, you couldn't and it was terrifying you. To your siblings alike and you tried to ignore your symptoms, you tried to ignore that everyone saw your pale and sickly complexion, your excessive perspiration and for no apparent reason, your sudden muscle spasms, your poor appetite, your nightmares and the voices that tormented you added to their own.

|| And in a moment of profound weakness, a moment where you managed to doze/rest in one of your safe houses in the immensely large bed all to yourself, you surprised yourself by waking up to the grotesque sound of chewing that hurt your ears, to your horror was you devouring the raw meat that was in the refrigerator. Your stomach turned instantly and you didn't hesitate to stumble to the sink to throw up, to stick your fingers deep in your throat to get that bloody meat out of your system, out of your body, you couldn't.

"That meat was delicious stupid human"

And that voice again made you fall back in terror, with a dull pain and in total panic, because in front of you, there floating and passing over your shoulder which you were afraid to see; it was a substance or a dark humanoid being with a smile of sharp white teeth, so sharp that for a moment you went blank. But your natural operating system, your instincts made you look for the gun hidden in your commando pants and when you found it, it seemed to snake menacingly.

That being did not expect that, it was fleeting and out of nowhere.

You shot yourself directly in the hundred but the pain was for a few moments, so negligible that you felt worse the cold of the floor when you hit and the blackness sliding down your extremities.

"What's wrong human imbecile!"

"What whores are you and why the hell are you leaving me?" you hissed with rage and pain, feeling worse than before, the taste of blood in your mouth was so disgusting and the pain in your head was deafening at a stratospheric level.

“I am Venom and now you are mine”

And that was enough to make you fall as a result of your days without sleep, of tiredness. ||

↻ The resolution that you had an alien parasite inside you added more disaster to your problems and burdens, his voice was sincerely deafening but reassuring in his existence because it made you ignore that putrid feeling when seeing your weapons near you, when passing through a rooftop or find yourself in danger.

↻ After a full week of hiding from your siblings and family because of Venom and his urges to eat humans or raw meat, you had to spend some time adjusting and your health seemed to improve as you got to know the alien parasite better, which you ended up liking.

↻ "I'm not a parasite, apologize!" It was the most normal phrase that would echo in your ears only to provoke your subtle laughter to the complete delight of Venom.

↻ They had reached an agreement or rather a bizarre coexistence, faster than the Symbiote had expected and that worried him greatly, no one in their right mind could accept that reality from one day to the next but you were also a human who he didn't hesitate to shoot himself like an animal instinct.

↻For Venom you were rare, a rare human, a bright being to the degree of the sun itself, you burned and did not allow anyone to get close to you, that he had managed to see in his days in silence inside you, your strange family and idiot brothers, You just seemed to start to like the little brown boy with the green eyes and catalog him as not food. You were strange but the most compatible being with him, you seemed custom made and the one created for your life. Venom found himself melting as he heard your rare laughs and saw what you treasured most, the activities you most loved to do and were passionate about doing. Every day he learned something more from you.

|| The darkness of the night precisely hid a young man who was transporting boxes in a van together with an unknown man. Venom found himself silently looking around through the wide hood of your commando jacket, they were hideous neighborhoods compared to the convenience stores you used to take him to for chocolate and salty chips. Although the whole city seemed gloomy and perpetually cold.

"Are you feeling alright [Name]?"

And Venom felt you tremble strongly from your chest to your entire body, but from a strange feeling of surprise. I could deduce that this man was important or he knew you.

"Recognized skill for a pimp to protect people from him, don't you think?" you returned with sleepy sarcasm.

The man just lightly tapped your shoulder and Venom could recognize that as friendship or camaraderie.

"I'm serious BatRed, your activity in the streets is more meticulous and sporadic, I miss even seeing you run between the ledges"

“I had to leave therapy”

Venom remembered, from your hundreds of memories being caught on camera visiting a good therapist and psychologist only to be branded as possibly insane in a matter of days and your psychologist as well as your therapist attacked from all sides. They were good women in your memories but you abandoned him and so, to his eternal pleasure, eternal talks began in the depths of your mind with him.

"Fuck man, I'm sorry"

"Any way at all"

And silence filled the cab of the truck, Venom instinctively urged calm in your racing heart and pleasantly received a soft caress where it clung to your biceps.

Venom couldn't have found a better host. ||

↻ The perfect symbiosis occurred in record time, Venom and you were one, you cared for each other in a sincere way and for the first time you both felt welcome in a place, like at home.

↻ The routine of both of you was tight and Venom got dizzy with so much you had to do, but you felt warm and it was nice. You liked your little brother a lot more than everyone else apart from Alfred (he made delicious chocolate) and Venom enjoyed your soft, deep and sincere humming when you carried Damian's backpack in one arm and equally with the other , there was so much warmth "It's warm" and you just responded with a soft affirmation.

↻ And life continued, with Venom's witty and rude words echoing in your ears and around you while the Symbiote enjoyed your sincere personality and attitude.

↻ Beautiful colors have been added to your gray scale; black and white

#venom #venom x reader #Venom x reader wayne!#Reader Wayne #Male Reader Wayne #batfamily x male reader #batfamily x reader

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jojo-schmo · 6 months

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My old Good Omens art from 2019-2020!! :O (In somewhat chronological order)

In the interest of sharing my art in one place, I thought I'd revisit this era of my art! I made much more traditional art at the time. But I like thinking about the evolution of my skills over the past few years.

Director's commentary below:

I believe the first four images are from 2019, when the first season of GO came out. Boy, did that show come out at a good time for me! I was in a deep art slump that had lasted for a few years at that point. Long story short, because of untreated depression and a chronic illness that brought me physical pain, I didn't get everything I wanted to get out of college classes and I was deeply self-conscious of my skill level. I knew I wanted to tell stories but I was frustrated that I seemingly couldn’t make my ideas come to life at all.

Being alive was very difficult for me at the time and I was fighting my own dark and negative thoughts that I directed towards myself constantly. I didn't see a psychiatrist until the Spring of 2020, and only then did things start getting better. If I had to describe it, it's like a storm in my head finally cleared. The weight on my shoulders lightened up a lot. I had enough mental clarity to gain more self-awareness and really work on myself. And that included my art. And it shows a little in the last few drawings.

(Side note, I am much, much better now. Medication and ongoing therapy has completely changed the quality of my life. I am very happy to be here!)

Anyway, I was making efforts to get better at drawing after college by taking Aaron Blaise's online art classes. (Side note, his class on drawing human anatomy helped me immensely!!) But it was just the beginning of a long art improvement journey!

But I see the stiffness and insecurity that was still present in my art from that time. Whenever I shared it on Twitter (which was my main social media at the time) I'd be lucky to hit ten notes. It didn't bother me all the time, but it did get discouraging as time went on. Until one day I decided to just deal with it. Whatever the reason was that nobody was seeing my art- whether it was due to the Twitter algorithm or if my art was just not appealing enough. I was going to keep drawing. If nobody clicked the like heart on my art, fine! I was going to keep throwing it into the void anyway and see what sticks. If it got ten likes or one I tried not to care as much.

My transition from drawing what I thought other people wanted to see, to drawing what made me happy, made a huge difference. Likes and reblogs do feel really good, but I'm happy to hear even what one person likes about my work. I try to keep that mindset with me as much as I can. And I'm not perfect at it. But it helps me a lot.

Of course that transition in my mindset was gradual. Took place over a few years. But I realized lately that I have a confidence in my art that I've never had before. And I'm really happy about that!!

All this to say, whether you've been drawing/writing for ten years, one year, or a few months, it's always nice to remember where you came from and far you've come.

Looking back, I wish I could tell my past self that her best was yet to come. And I still have a long way to go but I'm excited to see what I can make in the coming years!

If I had one preachy piece of advice to offer as a final note, remember that the ability to draw and write is an awesome skill to have. A skill that not every human being has. But a skill that can be developed and cultivated over time if nurtured. It's a beautiful thing to me, to be able to create something that didn't exist before. Something that only you can bring to life. And while it might not resonate with everyone who sees it, it might resonate with one person. And I love that. So when you can, create things that make you happy, the happiness might just be contagious to its viewers. <3

...I think I should draw some more Good Omens sometime soon. I miss those guys and they are dear to me :)

#tw mental health #good omens #jojo rambles #not to get too dramatic about myself on a post. I just wanted to share some thoughts aloud :)#and in the hopes that maybe someone will learn from my journey and not make the same mistakes I did

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avissapiens · 3 months

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JBS retrospective.

Jockbull summer was definitely something where I shot for the stars. 15 tasks where everyone else had only 5. Fairly stringent time limited goals that got more intense and all consuming with each set that was developed. I knew I wasn't going to be perfect at it or even approach 50% completion. And yet i still feel fucking amazing to have done it! In an 8 week span i jockified certain segments of my life in ways that really did feel like they resonated through my whole being. It sounds a bit hyperbolic, I know. But I do think that undergoing such a structured battery of tasks, having it constantly in my mind every single day, even to the point that for 8 weeks straight my phone background was some of the images I generated for each set of post diaries did something to me. Thinking about these Jockbull tasks definitely left a mark on my mindset. And the tasks themselves left a mark on my life because I think some of them are simply going to stick with me.

But they were starting to drag and i noticed myself getting more and more exhausted with..well..everything as the cut came to its end. So it had to come to a close as all good things must

Set A

Of the tasks that are gonna stick with me here I definitely think elements of the competition task are gonna have a big impact. It was perhaps overenthusiastic to demand weekly competition from other people. But I have noticed my approach to things the longer I've held this task in my mind is a lot more geared towards winning and just enjoying competition in general. It’s still not fully realized yet though. There is more I can do to embody that jock mentality of victory at any cost. Maybe i should delve into some specific self programming so that i take it beyond just video games

The other task I think is going to stick is Baki. I just didn’t anticipate how fucking fun it would be and how much it aligns so well with my particular kink ecosystem. But moreover, I think deliberately pursuing baki rather than just mindlessly consuming it has opened me up for more media exploration, and exploration of the sort that will help me see the archetypes in more forms of art. That definitely had an impact on my vibes sets too. And in the time since then I've opened up to exploring shows like Letterkenny which has a whiff of jockbroness to it.

Set B

I feel like Set B was mostly more geared towards accomplishing a specific goal for the cut. And now that it’s accomplished and thensome I can thank it and file most of it away. Maybe bring some of it back around when I do a cut in future. One thing that will definitely be sticking is the Personal Training element. Keeping this task in my mind has really opened up the possibilities. Especially as I’ve talked it through with Abg and others more thoroughly. I want to keep synthesizing my loves and my passions. I moved here to NZ specifically because I wanted to combine my interests into something niche and eclectic but that could still serve me. And the same goes for Personal training. At first I thought I'd be stuck just working in a gym and I was fine with that. But I want more. I want to be able to take this knowledge, this business, and combine it with the different brilliant works I've already put so much work into. The abyss, the archetypes. I wanna do online training and help you all actually physically attain these goals and help you make a transformation Even more astonishing than my own. Combining Personal training and the hypnotic structures I've created. And I'd love to be able to make something steady and sustainable out of it so I can get my own space and grow even more while finishing my degree here. I know it’s lofty. But I've always put in the work and this is no exception. We’ll see how things go once I've got the quals.

Set C

I truly wish that the meditation task was the one I was gonna keep around. Set C however really illustrated how precarious setting too many things in stone can be. Daily routines, a biweekly creative work schedule, weekly fast days. It was a lot. Things eventually had to give and meditation was one of them. Now that I'm trying to gain some muscle mass, fasting days are actively counter productive. And being on commission mode means that a lot of my creative bandwidth is taken up by those. I will however be maintaining the daily routine. It’s not perfect. It never will be. And it sure as hell isn’t for everyone. But I am very much an abyssal creature of habit and structured chaos. And the creation of a daily routine for skincare, supplements, Breakfast. It all makes me feel a lot better and has 100% elevated my aesthetics. Not to mention really entwining himbo as something I relate with and aspire to more and more. For most of JBS i was also using a pretty strict time table for a bunch of summer related things.

But I've decided to retire it because the longer it went on, the more tired and numb I grew and the lower my success rate with any given day’s tasks were. But it was incredibly successful at the start of summer and allowed me to get a lot done and set a great momentum for the rest of it. My libido never really “went away” during the cut like sometimes happens to bodybuilders, but it defo got attenuated or at least shifted. But holy fuck now that i’m back on carbs you can bet that i’ll be doing task 3 almost unthinkingly

All in all, I really enjoyed this experiment and I’d love to try it again in a different form. Maybe with a wider sample of bros who might also benefit from the structure and accountability. In a way the dudes I generated these with stopped being the main form of accountability for me, and you all reading the blogposts and listening to the Voice logs kept me going instead. So thanks so much. Back to regularly scheduled programming

#jockbull summer #jbs #bull #jock

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vickyvicarious · 7 months

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putting my reactions under a cut 'cause it's long today

honestly surprised van Helsing was able to restrain himself from a joke about the "grave duty" to be done at Lucy's tomb

Jack sounds so offended by van Helsing correctly figuring out that he is back to being skeptical. It's subtle but feels quite petulant.

"He held out a hand, which Quincey took." ~handshakes of friendship~

"I don't quite like to 'buy a pig in a poke,' as they say in Scotland," ~Art's slang~

oh god the way Art says "monstrous joke" the poor man

he is just jumping up and down. god AND THE WAY HE CHOKES UP ON GRAVE DESECRATION

"But this night our feet must tread in thorny paths; or later, and for ever, the feet you love must walk in paths of flame!" from Art's perspective van Helsing just said 'we have to break in to your fiance's grave or she's going to hell' for no reason, no wonder he warns him

WHEN HE THINKS SHE WAS BURIED ALIVE. Arrrrrrrrttttt

"May I cut off the head of dead Miss Lucy?" VAN HELSING PLEASE

"I shall not give my consent to anything you do! I have a duty to do in protecting her grave from outrage; and, by God, I shall do it!"" auugh I love Arthur shouting at van Helsing so much. He is so protective and he loves her so much and, I dunno, it's good to hear him not holding himself back for a moment

poor van Helsing listening to this though. Definitely feels like another moment when he feels especially paternal to Arthur, and being shouted at like this when he's trying so hard hurts him. I love his delivery and how sad and determined he is

he DID give so much to Lucy. he did all he could and he is still doing all he can for her

the way Jack's voice goes quiet when he is describing Arthur in the tomb. also Art's moment of fury when he sees the already-damaged lead coffin, but he sets it aside because he believes they care deeply and mean no harm

Quincey always asking the real questions.

Jack's hoarse voice when he says "Yes" to Lucy being in the grave before

The palpable, almost physical "Ohh but it was seemed fresh and pure" when they step outside

Jack: Arthur was thinking it over. I was tempted to believe. Quincey was so brave and manly with his tobacco and his phlegmatic disposition.

the mental image of all the suitors just standing there tilting their heads confusedly as van Helsing sticks his Host playdoh into the doorframe, working his way around. I imagine it took a few minutes. no mention of them helping.

faraway howling of dogs! Lucy is moving out there somewhere... also I love the sound of them

the way Jack says "a big, aching void" is sooo good. a small moment but so evocative

oh god the kid's whimpers make it so much worse

the way he repeats "Lucy Westenra"...

Art nearly collapsing at the sight of her bloody mouth. THE POOR MAN

oh the disgust when Jack says "the thing that was before us", as well as his voice shaking on "unclean" and when he gets to "hate and loathing" he is so utterly disgusted by her

I love her hissed breath

"There was a cold-bloodedness in the act which wrung a groan from Arthur; when she advanced to him with outstretched arms and a wanton smile he fell back and hid his face in his hands." POOR ART

oh damn, she sounds so sweet and gentle and deeply dangerous when she talks to Arthur. I absolutely love that delivery, you can hear echoes of the way Lucy spoke but it's not the same

god poor art. this is horrible horrible horrible

"We all looked on in horrified amazement as we saw, when he stood back, the woman, with a corporeal body as real at that moment as our own, pass in through the interstice where scarce a knife-blade could have gone." yet again wishing for a good animated adaptation of Dracula. It would just look silly in live action but you could do some really cool perspective/animation of this

the little shake on "we tried to cheer each other on the way" :( :( :(

"Arthur trembling like an aspen" once again I love how expressive he is physically. he feels emotions strongly and he shows them!

BRACING myself for the soundscaping of the staking, by the way

so much disgust whenever Jack describes her

the rustling/clinking/etc of van Helsing's vampire killing kit is so good. I also totally get why Art and Quincey feel distressed watching him pull this all out.

I love that he calls it "the curse of immortality"

"We all looked at Arthur." OOOF.

the music here is excellent

aghhh her faint screams. the music building. Jack's voice getting louder and fiercer, it's so intense

oh I wish there was a hammer falling sound

oh Art.... :(

the soft, soft way Jack describes her this time

Art you do not need to be forgiven.

"He put his hands on the Professor's shoulder, and laying his head on his breast, cried for a while silently, whilst we stood unmoving." WHY IS NO ONE HUGGING HIM (but yes art. cry all you need.)

why do art's sad smooch noises get to me every timmmmmme

the birds and music and Jack's voice on "the air was sweet" SO good and evocative and again you could do so much with the color palette of this vs the tomb/night in an animated version. film too but even more animation

~handshakes of vampire-hunting friendship~

"what is to do and to dread" the use of alliteration is so good in this line. especially with van Helsing's accent, it sounds so good

"The Professor was delighted." The Mina Effect strikes again

the importance of the documents!!

ohh the smile in his voice when he greets Mina.

"her luggage, which included a typewriter" the slight incredulity is lovely. hehehehehe

"She does not know how precious time is, or what a task we have in hand. I must be careful not to frighten her." buddy YOU are the one who doesn't know. well, okay, you know some of it but she definitely knows the rest

Mina immediately nerding out over the phonograph <3

It's nice to hear slightly awkward but fond Jack voice again. He's so charmed by her immediately. And so stumbling/awkward, and his voice is so much brighter than it has been

"But do you know that, although I have kept the diary for months past, it never once struck me how I was going to find any particular part of it in case I wanted to look it up?" JACK. Why are you only just realizing this???? Have you never once tried to review any of the case notes you've been recording in here? I can get not listening to the Lucy diaries, but...

I feel like there might be something to be said about Mina repeatedly emphasizing that these men do not know her, until she gives them the diaries to read. Especially going hand in hand with "I love you therefore he loves you" and Jack's response to Mina that he knows her now/should know her from Lucy

Ohh, the way he gets jealous of Mina's crying and letting her emotions out. Definitely feels like this is tied up in his ideas of gender but I wish he would allow himself to cry properly. Learn from Art. Heck, cry with Art.

Mina's little sniffles are so good. And her immediate protectiveness of Jack is SO sweet. Even as she makes him face that they must share his thoughts she will keep his voice hidden.

Mina was crying like that just from listening until 7 September (the first transfusion). Poor dear, she's still in for a terrible ride.

The two of them sitting back to back learning of one another's pain...

I love his little gasped "good lord!" as he gets her brandy

And then she dives STRAIGHT IN to writing it all out. God, Mina's so brave and goes straight to work every time. And makes important connections immediately, like now with the papers!

Jonathan ON the boxes! He is also making important connections and diving right in to work.

"Everything had been carefully thought out, and done systematically and with precision. He seemed to have been prepared for every obstacle which might be placed by accident in the way of his intentions being carried out." The little shiver to his voice.... gahhh

But Dracula's precision means that if you know what he is doing then at least you can predict where he will be/what he's up to. So there's at least a bit of an upside.

~*~BRIBERY~*~ and also such poor thirsty men again. hehehehe I love Jonathan's jokes about it

#dracula daily #re: dracula #jack seward #van helsing #arthur holmwood #quincey morris #mina murray #lucy westenra #vampire!lucy #jonathan harker

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hannahssimblr · 5 months

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Chapter Three (Part 3)

When Marnie takes me back to the booth, there are even more people there than before. A crowd of hipsters have joined us, all looking like members of Vampire Weekend, and I scoot in next to one of them; a mousy haired boy with glasses called Stephen, who asks me what I want to drink, and then has no issue with ordering one of the lewdly named cocktails for me.

“So you’re also an artist?” He wants to know.

“Yeah I’m doing art and design. Hoping to get a bachelors in Illustration.”

“Illustration like books?”

“Yeah kinda. Sometimes.” My drink arrives with a flourish, the waiter making a big show of presenting it to me by lifting a glass dome from the top of it, letting a cloud of dry ice waft onto the table. It’s all very over dramatic and frankly embarrassing, and everyone makes noises like they’re dead impressed, but I just snatch it up and take a mouthful. I’m still feeling so rattled from seeing Jen that even my eyes are having a hard time focusing.

Stephen is talking about the illustrations in some book from his childhood, but as he’s talking to me I kind of zone out and chew on the end of my straw, trying to decide whether or not there’s actually something wrong with me. I make a mental note to anxiety-google my symptoms later, wondering whether a churning stomach and palpitating heart are normal responses to talking to someone you used to know. Jen and I can’t be friends again, I decide. Being around her would up my chances of colliding with Jude Turner tenfold, and I don’t think my body could physically handle the stress of that encounter.

I realise Stephen is waiting for me to say something, and I shake myself back to life. “What?”

“Oh, sorry, I know it’s loud in here. I was just asking what music you’ve been into lately.”

“Oh, like Sufjan Stevens.” I say immediately, surprising myself, “And I’m getting really into Alabama Shakes”

“You know Alabama Shakes?” He says, impressed, not knowing that I only said that because Shane left his iPod on the coffee table a few days before and when I scrolled through, theirs was one of the names that stuck in my memory.

“Yes.” I say. “The sound is super unique. I’m drawn to the lyrics, actually I think I’ll try to get tickets to the next gig if they ever come to Dublin.” I sit back and take another drink, watching his face and wondering when on earth I became someone who could bullshit. I’m sure that someone who knew all about the who’s who of music would be able to see right through me, but Stephen doesn’t. He tells me that I seem like a pretty cool girl, and I smile, wishing it was true.

He tells me that he’s in second year, studying social sciences in some small technology institute outside of town, and then we spend some time discussing that, and him, and where he lives and where he comes from, all things that kind of shape him into a person, rather than some hipster who buys me drinks. Stephen is nice, I decide, in an everyman kind of way. Nothing to get excited about, but there’s nothing especially off-putting about him, save his skinny jeans that are just a tiny bit too skinny. We share three drinks together, and then he asks me if i’ll go out to the smoking area, because he needs a cigarette.

I’m usually not someone who smokes very much, and even when I do I try to limit it to just one, because I hate just about everything about it except for the social element of continuing the conversation outside with everyone else who’s smoking too. I never understood the appeal of the actual cigarettes though. Especially in a day and age where we know everything there is to know about the harm they do, the myriad of painful, excruciating ways that they’re killing us. Even now, after its ban indoors, the hikes in prices and the horrible, gruesome images on the sides of the packets, it feels like every single college student in this city has a cigarette between their lips as a fashion accessory. I’ve seen people put stickers over the warning labels, and even listened to them have in depth discussions about their favourite ones, Marnie was saying recently that hers is the picture of the man with the hole in his neck.

I try very hard not to think about the man with the hole in his neck when Stephen is handing me my second cigarette of the night. He’s not smoking what Jen was smoking, and it’s much stronger and much more unpleasant, so much so that I have to stifle a wince while he tells me a story about the time he went to New York on a J1 visa.

When I stand next to him and look up into his face, I think again about how alright he is. He’s friendly, he’s tall, his outfit is mostly nice, and now that I’ve had three strong cocktails and all of those awful, anxious feelings I had earlier have floated away with the breeze, I start thinking that maybe I could try out some light flirtation on him.

“Have you got a girlfriend?” Is what comes spilling out of me though, and I wish I could stuff it right back into me. It must be the least graceful or subtle attempt at flirting there ever was. My face immediately burns up.

“Um. No.” He says with bewilderment. I realise I have cut him off mid sentence. “Why?”

“Oh, nothing. Just wondering.” I’m so embarrassed of myself that I can’t meet his eyes anymore.

“Ehm. Well, do you have a boyfriend?”

“Oh, absolutely not.” I laugh too loudly and then cover up my mouth.

When my eyes drift back to him, he’s giving me an amused smile. “Is it funny? Like, the idea of you having a boyfriend or something?”

“Maybe.” I say. “Kind of. Yes.”

“Why’s that?”

“Oh, like, I dunno I just don’t really have boyfriends.”

“You’re exploring your options.” He says with a conclusive nod, even though that’s not at all what it is. In fact, I’ve been doing whatever exactly the opposite of exploring my options is; Avoiding all romantic prospects. Wallowing in my room. Fleeing in terror from any and all single men who might want my phone number.

“That’s what college is for anyway.” He goes on. “Like, just seeing who’s available and having fun.” He gives me a suggestive little smile that makes my stomach coil nervously even through my tipsy haze, because he seems to think I’m the queen of sex now.

“Yeah completely.” Is all I manage.

“You have lovely eyes.” He says. “They’re a real emerald kind of colour.”

“You think?”

“Yeah, let me have a closer look at them.” He leans down until we’re eyeball to eyeball and he gazes right at me. I can see my own silhouette reflected in his glasses, and think that I look kind of messy, and not in a purposeful, Alexa Chung kind of way at all. More in a three-cocktails, two cigarettes and a resurfacing of a past trauma kind of way. I smooth down my hair with sweaty palms.

“You’re extremely pretty.” He tells me.

“Thank you.”

“You’re welcome.”

He surges suddenly towards me and pecks me on the lips. It startles me and I jolt backwards.

“Sorry.” He says with wide panicked eyes.

“It’s okay.”

“Maybe I was misreading the signals.”

“No it’s fine, I don’t mind.”

“I don’t want to be one of those weird men.”

“You’re not.” I feel tetchy for some reason. “You can just… you can do it if you want. You can kiss me, I don’t care.”

“That’s romantic.” He says, dripping with sarcasm.

“Sorry, I just don’t know how to be.”

“It’s fine, we can um… we can just chill out if you want.”

I don’t know why he’s insisting on prolonging the awkwardness when it’s clear to me that neither of us is going to leave the smoking area until we kiss.

“Kiss me, please.” I say flatly, and his mouth does that porny quirk again. “You’re a woman who knows what she wants.” He says in a voice that makes my hands clench, just as he comes at me and puts his mouth over mine.

It’s a strange sensation, kissing another person after so much time, and I’ve completely forgotten what it felt like to do it. It’s more real than I remember it being, I’m more aware than I used to be of the way his tongue feels and the sounds our mouths are making. It’s a little bit visceral, but not totally unpleasant. Despite the strong taste of cigarettes on his breath, Stephen’s kissing is fine, there’s nothing wrong with it, but still, it makes me feel almost nothing inside. I hold onto the front of his jumper anyway and I kiss him back, because it feels like he’s helping me to sever the very last connection I have with Jude. He no longer gets to be the last boy who kissed me. Now it’s Stephen. Just plain old Stephen, the social studies student whose surname I don’t even know, and it’s like all in that moment I’m freed.

“You’re pretty.” He tells me again, gently as he pulls away from me. “Has anyone ever told you that before?”

“I dunno.” I say vaguely. Men are obsessed with being the very first ones to tell women that they’re attractive, like it’s some gift that they are privileged to bestow upon us. We’re floundering, lost in the world, completely blind to ourselves until some man comes along and lets us know what he thinks about us. I can’t agree with him, say that I know, or I’ve heard it all before, because then he’ll think I’m up myself. It always feels like a trap. And besides, he’s not really saying it because he believes it, it’s just a device to get into my knickers.

“What are you up to later on?” He wants to know.

“I suppose I’ll just go home.” I say, my heart jumping a little in my chest.

“Where’s home?”

“Wouldn’t you like to know.” I say, and he grins at me like he thinks I’m just being coy. “I would.” Maybe he really isn’t that bad looking at all.

“If I tell you where I live then you might show up at my front door.”

“I might, who knows. And would you invite me in?”

I laugh awkwardly, feeling the vibe shifting rapidly into a realm I’m not comfortable with. “Probably not, no.”

“Ah, you art school girls, sure you’re always playing hard to get.”

“I like to stay mysterious.” I step away from him and make moves towards the door. “I’m pretty cold.” I tell him. “Maybe we can go back inside?”

“Yeah, okay.” He stubs out the butt of the cigarette that he was holding onto the whole time, and we head through the doors. I’m just thinking about how maybe he’s not so bad, and maybe if we spent some time together I could get to like him, when the hot air from the bar hits his glasses and they immediately fog up, and the effect on me is so immediate that I almost have to flinch away from him. The sight of him with fogged up specs is so dorky that I’m instantly repulsed. I watch in horror as he takes them off and wipes them on his jumper. There’s nothing at all attractive about him. What was I thinking?

“Well, it was nice to meet you,” I say robotically. “But I actually have to leave now.”

“Oh, right now?”

“Yeah. I didn’t realise how late it was, my housemate wanted me to come back and help her with something.” I start walking away immediately, the thought of his kissing me causing a shudder through my entire being.

“Wait, uh, can I have your phone number?”

“Um. I don’t know.”

“Really?”

“I don’t really give it out to people.”

His face falls. “Oh.”

“I’m just really not in the place for… this right now. It’s not personal.”

“It’s okay. I get it.” He doesn’t get it. He looks downtrodden, and I feel horrible, but I can’t stand there looking at him anymore, so I turn towards the cloakroom and try to collect my things.

“Hang on.” He calls after me. “Will I ever see you again?”

Does he think we’re in a romcom? That I’m the Meg Ryan to his Billy Crystal? I have to try really hard not to roll my eyes in front of him as I pass my token over to the cloakroom attendant, my breath shuddering. “No.” I say over my shoulder. “You probably won’t, sorry.” I don’t add the bit about how I was just using him to get over the memory of another person, because that’d make me the bad guy here.

“Damn. Okay Ellie. Nice to meet you.”

“Right. See you.”

I pull my coat on and walk right out the door into the freezing cold night.

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#sims #sims 4 #ts4 #simlit #sims 4 story #sims story #fiction #writing #romance #sims 4 storytelling #sims4 storytelling #sims storytelling #lucky girl part 2

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its-blip-on-the-radar · 1 month

Text

[ID: A grayscale digital drawing of a broken pencil with a butterfly standing on top of it. The butterfly also has a broken wing. The background has an overlay of a galaxy pattern and also a paper texture giving it some color around the edges. Text across the top reads "art is dead."]

I don't know who I am anymore

I wish I was able to come back and tell you guys all about my experiences with recent events but all of it... All of it was about people being bigoted to me. I can't make positive comics about my psych ward stay, or me moving into a new place (that is actually safe and accepting thank the gods) or my day to day life because... The psych ward stay fucked me up a lot, and now I'm dealing with ableism practically daily, because I've almost completely lost my ability to mask. Strangers are being cruel to me, between demonizing me and getting me kicked out of places, to infantilizing me and treating me like I'm a lost two year old, it's just been... a lot.

I originally made these comics because I wanted to show people my reality. I used to be proud of it. I liked showing off that despite all these big scary mental disorders, I could survive, I could maybe even thrive like this!

...But I'm not thriving.

Ever since I recieved the news that tumblr sold their soul to the AI overlords, my desire to create digital art plummeted. I was already contemplating quitting when I returned from the psych ward because the stay fucked me up so bad I was convinced I deserved to be ashamed. I didn't deserve to put myself out there to be seen and accepted because my disorders make it easy to demonize me. That's all the psych ward did for almost two weeks, is drill into my head I was a "bad patient" and that I should never be proud of who I am, because who I am needs to be corrected.

And the news about tumblr almost sealed the coffin for me.

What actually sealed this metaphorical coffin for me was my therapist. I was discussing with him my disdain for creating (thinking digital art was the only "valid" format I could create in) and he pointed out to me that I was technically still creating. I was scrapbooking, and painting, and sculpting, but I was drowning in the guilt of not updating on here, not having anything to show here. I've always had the mentality that the only kind of art worth sharing online was digital because it was the only way I could share my art in perfect quality. I don't have my camera anymore so I'm reliant on my phone for traditional art images and my phone camera sucks. So... it felt like I had nothing. And then... My therapist pointed out the obvious. I was in fact still creating. I was also indulging in the things I had always ignored about myself in my childhood. My love of insects and butterflies specifically, my desire to get good at home repair, my passion for gardening, bird watching, fashion, video games, organization, all of it.

I have been creating this whole time. I've also been healing this whole time. But this conversation also made me realize something fundamental about my existence.

The only reason digital art was my sole medium of choice for most of my existence as an artist was because my parents convinced me it was the only way to be a successful artist.

If... you went back and asked 5 year old me what I wanted to do with my life, I would've told you "I want to be an artist" and to some degree I did accomplish that. But the key thing there is when I said that I meant a fine artist. Someone who creates traditional art for museums and shows and stuff. I didn't want to be a graphic artist, or an animator, or any of that. I wanted to be a traditional artist. But my parents were very abusive and strict. They told me the only professions I could pursue were anything that would guarantee earn me money (They often told me my only actual options were doctor, scientist, or lawyer) so I wasn't allowed to hone my skills in the traditional format. If I wanted to earn my right to go to an art school for college, I had to pour myself into the most "successful" format of art. Digital.

This... is a really long winded way of me saying, I'm probably going to be switching to posting traditional media on here, if I post at all. The AI thing really took a blow to my self confidence (knowing people think a computer can do a better job than you at something as human as art, kinda sucks) so we'll see. But I want to come back to Love and Injury eventually. It will take a while but I will. I'm not completely adverse to digital, it's just not what I really want to be doing. I need a pretty long break from it right now. So... If you care about me, if you care about my stories, my life, my work, please stick around. I'll try to post art commentary and other peoples work, and update about my life for those who care. I may even post my newer traditional stuff. But... to those of you who gave my art a chance in the first place, thank you.

I really hope I don't let you all down.

#blip is on your radar

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