#i think all art matters. i think that doodle of a cat you drew in the corner of your math notebook matters

[ilovedthestars]

here's the thing. yes, some pieces of art are "better" than others. there are many criteria you can measure that with--technical skill, creativity, clarity, conceptual depth, successful execution of the artist's intentions, etc., and i do think it's useful to clarify which ones you're using as a measuring stick. but like, of course you can evaluate art. of course you can be critical (in the "art critic" sense) of art. (among other things, that's one of the most important ways to get better at making art yourself.)

however. when it comes down to evaluating what gets to count as art. what art even gets to have a seat at the table. i will go to bat for the thing that isn't as "good" every single time.

you can say you think a piece of art is bad. you can say you think it lacked technical skill, or clarity, or conceptual depth, and you consider those important elements of a successful work. i might even agree with you. but if you think that means it doesn't matter, someone is going to die on this hill and it isn't going to be me

[kestrel-wish]

REPOST YOUR ART OF CARP!!! The famous carpet deity, omg-

I remember the wildest things at such late hours

AYE AYE CAPTAIN! 👍 I'm not sure where a good chunk of the physical drawings of them are, and to be honest i never drew it as much as Kess ( or windhover, i tend to call them windhover sometimes to avoid confusion with my fursona ) mainly because Carp's ears are surprisingly hard to draw well. But here are the ones that I can find

This is the main drawing of them, and i think the first actual one?

Also this one that was drawn mainly for expression practice and boredom You can tell i gave up when it came to drawing the background and also that's supposed to be a couch they're sitting on it's just hard to tell because it looks like a brick lmao.

That's all the good ones i can find my art files are terrible to try and look through I also have some goofy super low effort doodles of Carp and Kess ( And others! ) too if you'd like those

Left lower is a random 'garden'/plant creature similar to carp i made up but never really used, ( their name is Dandy , i show them later ) along with an idea for what the ceiling ( 'Ceil' ) would look like. More cat-like since i think we joked that the carpet would be rivals/kind of jealous of the ceiling so cat/dog because funny. Middle bottom is Ampere. I don't remember actually showing you Ampere? So if i either didn't show you or it's been a while this is ampere ( below ) Similar to the others but like a kitchen electronic kind of guy and the upper right of the doodle page is Carp and lower right is Kess, ofc

I like where i went with this look but he's also way overdesigned compared to the others it's ridiculous looking. Very cool nonetheless but just a bit jarring. Very polite looking guy, though. Yeah not much actual carp art, that i can find at least there very well might be more. Can't find it for the life of me. Properly name your art files , people! But i have this other one of Ampere if that's something

It's all old ass art so kinda wonky looking now in hindsight. I want to come back to them eventually as characters they're all silly. but especially Carp and Kess because they're the coolest. Blatant favoritism. The amount of lore and ideas I've come up with for those funny Quotev group chat ocs is terrifying and frankly quite disturbing. I do have more doodles of Kess than carp if you want to see those later, just ask. And i think a small animation but don't quote me on that. Sadly just not much of Carp itself. Or the others that i've thought of for that matter. Like you can see I tried to make ones much later to add to the personified house things, but I kind of ended overdesigning them a lot like you can kind of see with Amp. And Dandy, the plant one. I don't think you've seen it ever either, i made them a while after Amp on a whim, i think. The vague idea just came to me and i felt the need to doodle them too.

I like Dandy's design ngl very soft and warm looking. I feel like their fur would feel kind of crunchy. It's very obviously a first time doodle but it's a fun idea. Man, i love drawing funnily themed cartoon dogs. I know this is less Carp art considering you asked for Carp specifically but there isn't much i can find so woe other old art be upon ye.

People who did not know me in my early Quotev days are going to be so confused lmao i'm not tagging any of this i don't even know what tags I would use.

[namedhope]

             HOPE ONLY SHRUGGED. it really didn't matter to her who these 'misfits' were in the end; a gang, a group, a sports team... she wasn't part of this world, the blue haired didn't HAVE to butt into every little thing. though it would be a lie to say her curiosity wasn't at least piqued over the inquiry - what about her had made him wonder such? if she were honest, the name sounded like a band, and she felt f l a t t e r e d at that idea ( bands were cool, after all. most of the time ). yet, there was no promise that that was what he was thinking of, so she kept the thoughts to herself. unwavering expression of calm was maintained, glad her headache had died away for the most part.

        when he would go on, she would cant her head, thoughtful over his reasonings for not wanting to join. it had never occurred to her that some people thought they needed instructions to partake in certain endeavors like art. though thinking on it further, she supposed that made sense. the brain functioned wildly from person to person, and there were some that simply didn't know how to just let loose. at least not in the way that others could. like herself. or, well, hope was fairly certain she could be described as creative.

                   a glance was cast to her cat doodles, wondering briefly if they were too plain. in the end, she didn't care. plain didn't mean bad. they were v i b r a n t and cute. a simplicity that could be comforting in a world of insanity. they had helped to get her mind off whatever dwelled in the dark corners of wild thoughts. so... it seemed like a good thing to her, no matter how generic the general appearance was in her perspective. in reality, they were bold and unique, but hope was rather familiar with her own art. difficult to see it as anything but the usual to a degree.

          "you don't have to be creative, you just... have to want to try something. think of something you like and just attempt to create it. it can be just colorful lines really, whatever satisfies the itch. i mean, i just drew a bunch of silly cats. you could try dogs or lizards or houses or flowers or robots." there would come a PAUSE, falling silence when he mentioned needing to go. storm hues blinked, not sure she believed his words. but trying to get a kid to stay would seem rather creepy. "okay, if you need to. it's no worries. i just had extra paint. would rather not lug it all back to where i'm staying. you prooooobably guessed i'm from... out of town."

                 ...more like out of reality, but that didn't need mentioning.

Shit. He shouldn't have said anything. The NUMBER ONE GOLDEN RULE. He should have never talked about the Misfits. Hell, he's never even SEEN her around much less being inside of the warehouse that was about another 15 minutes walking distance from here. Drake bit his lip subtly with his bottom teeth. Drake wondered if she would ask more about it, or even question if it was real to begin with. It sounded like a silly, edgy and obvious name. But Drake holds his tongue.

"Nothin'. Nevermind." Drake takes back his words, pretending that he never even mentioned it at all. Drake figured that she would just finish her painting and leave, never to be seen again or something. Just a bored tourist who is in a way similar to him... looking for a emotional outlet. Drakes unfortunately had bad habits that no twelve-year-old should EVER get into. Drinking mostly and stealing is his main 'outlet' and rush. The only thing he got out of this no-good life was making other people's lives a misery and an inconvenience. For him, that was his sweet revenge for what other adults did to him.

When she offered to let him paint with her, he backs up a bit. "I dunno wha' m'supposed t'do with all tha'. M'nah a creative person." Drake tries to excuse. He would like to TRY, but he felt like he was supposed to be somehow artistic or 'creative' as he said. He felt like he'd do a bad job and ruin the moment. Drake isn't exactly DECLINING Her. Maybe just showing him the ropes of what TO do would be a good starting point.

After all, Drake's hobby was thievery and kleptomania. He usually took stuff back to his abandoned office home some distance away from here. Drake right now did have some stolen stuff. Thankfully, technology in the 1990's wasn't AS premium as they would be in Hope's future or at her timeline. Drake would adjust his backpack. "Was jus' headin' home anyway." Drake lies. He didn't have a home. He was contemplating if he should go back to the Misfits or back to his lonely life in the office building that was sanctioned off.

[shirecorn]

how about 17 and 24? what inspires you and how do you deal with art block?

Long post warning.

Art block...

I don't actually get art block, which is probably a combination of neurodivergence and drawing every day for the last 3 years

I wrote an entire tutorial about how to do that, but didn't feel like illustrating it. Would people want to read it even without visuals?

Maybe... I'll just start rambling.

There's a couple different types of art block, and it's really just a philosophy puzzle to get past them. I'm going to assume that the things I think of slow days, or art mud, is a milder form of art block and work through that.

Art block is a symptom, not a disease. You probably have something deep inside that you don't want to face, or don't know how. Sometimes you need to discover the cause, sometimes just power through.

Method 1: Rest

Let yourself just Exist. The act of consuming art is part of the process. Watching shows and playing games, taking a break and going gardening or focus on school. This is what you need for burnout-induced art block.

Method 2: Action

I always choose action, sometimes it means a tiny 2 min sketch per day. Ugly or super simplified. As long as I don't stop moving.

Toss everything. Start every piece thinking you will throw it away.

The act of drawing moves you forward; pinning it to the fridge does not. Don't work things until they are perfect. Work them until they are there.

Art block causes and solutions:

- No Inspiration

Not sure what to draw, nothing seems appealing. Art won't come out like it used to.

Do studies from life or photos. Sketch, paint, digital, traditional, doesn't matter. Rocks, fruit, figure drawing, landscapes, buildings, anything.

Study and copy professional's work. Old masters are best, like rubens, michalangelo (only his men tho) etc because they will teach you anatomy while you work. If you copy someone with a lot of flaws, you will repeat those flaws.

Trace to learn, not to earn. Trace photography and art from anyone you want. Don't post it unless you have the artist's permission or they are dead, whichever comes first. This is strictly work for yourself, on yourself. It's not about the finished drawing.

Find an artist with a fun style and try converting stuff into their style. Don't make that your new style though and especially don't start selling it. Your style is a chimera of everyone you love, not a clone of one person.

Take blurry photos. You don't need a fancy camera or good skills or beautiful subjects. Doing studies from your own photos can spark life into your workflow.

Make challenges for yourself. Randomly generate things to combine. Try fusing characters! Don't try to make it look good, just be fun.

Doodle patterns, swirls, lines, random stuff. Try looking up art warmups and doing some of those.

- Everything Sucks

You finally see how bad you are. Or somehow you got worse. Every piece is a fight and you spend hours trying to get something right only for it to be stiff and disgusting and STILL wrong.

Why are you trying to draw good? It's enough just to draw.

Accept that your art is bad. Every artist can see flaws in their work. Your problem is that those flaws outweigh anything remotely worthwhile and hurt to look at.

So what? You're in a period of growth, not a period of production. Keep that wonky second eye. Let them have hot dog fingers.

Show everyone! Show no one! No piece of art can ever be a reflection of the artist. Not their worth, not their skill. The only thing your art says about you is "Held and moved a pen for a bit."

Make bad art. It's ok. Most of the time, the pressure to perform and get things Right is what made them wrong in the first place. Relax.

- No Motivation

The #1 killer of artists everywhere. On some level you think you should draw, on every other level you think you should stay in bed.

You are not lazy. You wouldn't have read this far in a post about art block if you were lazy. You wouldn't CALL it art block if you were lazy. Laziness is wishing you didn't have to do anything. A block is wishing you were doing something. If you think you can namecall Yourself into productivity again, you're wrong and You need to unionize so that you don't treat You like that anymore.

Consider Mental Illness. Losing interest in something that brought you joy can be a symptom of depression. I know it seems obvious, but if you're waiting for a sign that it's "bad enough," it's bad enough. Seek care if you have the means. Forgive yourself if you already know this.

Selfcare. Examine yourself for neglect. Nutrition, exercise, enrichment, social need, and sleep are all part of the art process. Eat three meals and sleep 8 hours. That's your gaymer fuel. You deserve it, I promise. Depriving yourself of your needs will make your blocks worse, not kick you into making them better.

Identify potholes. Sketchbook falling apart? Tablet cord frayed? Half your pencils missing? Chair uncomfortable? Desk hard to reach? There's a lot of things that you tell yourself to work around and get over. Just because you CAN workaround something, doesn't mean you SHOULD. A difficult work environment can cause secret dread deep inside that you don't recognize and just think you're lazy. What you think of as "no motivation" might actually be "I don't want to deal with my tablet disconnecting every time I move it wrong and I have to wiggle it for a few seconds to make it work again." These little things are like potholes in the road. Sure you CAN still drive through them, but eventually you're going to look up and realize you haven't voluntarily left the house in weeks.

Repair potholes and roadblocks. You might feel bad about buying a new pencil, headphones, tablet, car, etc because technically the old one works if you hustle. But if you're running into so many potholes you've ground to a halt, it doesn't Actually work anymore, does it? Invest, save up, request, and require working equipment and suitable conditions. This stuff isn't just cushy privilege, it's an investment in yourself and your art. You are worth the effort it takes to clear the way. If you can't afford reliable (reliable! not perfect or luxurious) equipment, then say it. If cardboard is all you can afford, draw on cardboard. But know that you deserve canvas, and one day you might be able to make the jump. Acknowledge that sometimes, if you don't have it in you to smear burned twigs on wet cardboard, the problem isn't motivation, but opportunity.

- Haven't Drawn in So Long

A unique type of art block that self perpetuates. The thought of starting again is so stressful you can't do it. Or maybe you'll do it tomorrow. Yeah. Tomorrow for sure.

Face your fears. Are you ashamed of your lack of drawing? Are you anthropomorphizing your paper and thinking it's going to judge you, like "oh NOW you come back >:/" I internalize voices I hear and project them onto other people, concepts, locations, and inanimate objects. Your paper, computer, WIPs folder.... none of that is judging you.

Reframe your WIPs. Do you feel shame when you see "unfinished" projects? Why? Who says you MUST bring everything you start to Finish? You don't have to. A sketch is a finished art piece; it's called a sketch! If a sketch is a fully realized creation, pages that are half colored, 75% lined, or partially rendered are all fully realized creations too. Unless paid otherwise, art is done when you're done working on it.

Lower the stakes. Draw a chibi or grab some crayons. Get messy and slowly ease yourself back into the flow over the course of a couple days. It's fine.

Get a buddy! Find an art meme, do an art trade, get a study subject, or just wing it. Drawing art alongside someone can help you get past that block.

Pretend you never stopped. Don't think about the gap, how long it's been, or rustiness. As far as anyone knows, you drew the mona lisa yesterday and didn't break a sweat. Today, you drew a starfish on your hand with a gel pen. Keep up that streak, good job!

Just keep drawing. Make a goal to do one sucky drawing per day on the back of a napkin. Don't make up for missed days, just pretend they didn't happen. Who's going to judge you? The calendar? That's pieces of paper; it doesn't have an opinion. Draw a cat on it. Done. Keeping up the momentum is a great way to prevent art blocks in the future.

TLDR: Draw imperfectly and toss it. Selfcare is king. Draw often and don't judge yourself.

Art is a process, not a product.

[kanjukucompany]

【A3! Translation】 Sky Gallery (4/11)

previous chapter / next chapter

(translation under the cut)

(glitch text ignore)

Chapter 4

Kazunari: Heh, this painting conveys a lot of love through the motif~. How catchy, easy to understand too!

Kazunari: Uwah, this piece is amazing! So moving! I'm liking this one~.

Kazunari: Which one's your fave, Tenten?

Tenma: .....Something about this one is nice. It's eye-catching.

Kazunari: I see~, so Tenten likes this kinda style! I get what you mean!

Tenma: I don't know much about art, so it's a bit difficult for me to properly understand.

Kazunari: That's okay! It's fine to perceive art in your own way, if your gut says 'I can't explain why, but I like this' or 'this one isn't that good', then that's that.

Kazunari: Just because it's a painting, it doesn't mean you're required to think super hard about it...

Kazunari: It's the same as listening to music, like how you know you enjoy a song because of the way it excites you!

Kazunari: When I draw, I try to create artwork that'll make people feel that same way.

Kazunari: It doesn't matter if it's an exhibition piece or just a doodle.

Kazunari: I always want to make something that those who see it will enjoy, even if just a little.

Kazunari: Of course, not everyone is going to feel the same.

Kazunari: ...Oops, guess I got a bit serious there.

Tenma: To me, your paintings….

Tenma: ...Nevermind, it's nothing.

Customer A: Isn't that Sumeragi Tenma?

Customer B: Oh my god, you're right!

Tenma: --.

Kazunari: It's pretty darn hot today, don't ya think, Tenten? How ‘bout we go chow down on some shaved ice?

Tenma: Huh?

Customer A: That's definitely Sumeragi Tenma.

Customer B: Should we ask him?

Tenma: ---Yer darn right! It's swelterin' out! Let's hop to it!*

Customer A: Is that not him after all?

Customer B: His accent's different.... Were we wrong?

Customer A: They look so similar~.

Tenma: That was such a bad Kansai accent.

Kazunari: Ahaha, thankfully we didn't get caught~.

Tenma: (It's been a while since I've had a day off, I'll take it easy today...)

Misumi: I got a piece of paper!

Tenma: ?

Yuki: Then let's start. We'll go clockwise.

Kumon: Oh, Tenma-san, perfect timing! Let's draw together!

Tenma: Shiritori? I'll pass, I want to relax a bit--.*

Yuki: Not confident in your art skills?

Tenma: I'm not-, why you little--!

Muku: Tenma-kun can sit here.

Izumi: Then, I'll go first.

-

Muku: Are we done with this round?

Misumi: That was hard~!

Kumon: Let's compare answers!*

Muku: Director-san's is 'curry', right.

Kumon: Yuki's is 'refrigerator'. Easy guess!

Yuki: Misumi drew a boat?

Misumi: It's 'fishing'~!*

Kumon: So, what did Tenma-san draw…?

Yuki: An evil spirit?

Tenma: That doesn’t fit the pattern.

Misumi: Monster!

Tenma: That doesn’t fit the pattern either!

Kumon: Amoeba?

Tenma: None of those fit!

Yuki: Then what is it?

Tenma: ……Cat.

Izumi: I-I see….

Kumon: A cat—!!

Kumon: How does that fit.

Misumi: 'Cause~, I've been talking to the neighborhood watch about how to feed the strays! This is how!

Izumi: It's actually gave an explanation!?

Misumi: Maybe I'll upload it to Inste later~.

Kumon: Speaking of, Sumi-san, you've gained a ton of followers!

Yuki: Maybe his guest performance had something to do with it.

Kumon: Keep this up, and you might become the popular one!

Tenma: .....

Yuki: What're you so quiet for?

Misumi: Tenma, are you tired~?

Tenma: .....Yeah, well, something like that.

Kumon: It's your day off, so you should get some rest!

Tenma: You guys roped me into this!

Kumon: Haha, sorry, sorry.

Kumon: Sumi-san's been busy with his guest role, and Tenma-san's hasn't been in the dorms for a while, so we just wanted to hang out.

Misumi: It's fun playing with everyone~!

Kumon: Though, Kazu-san is still huddled up in his room working...

Tenma: Now that you mention it, I haven't seen him.

Muku: It looks like he's in the final stages of creating his piece for the open-call exhibition. He's been at it so much he's barely even eaten.

Izumi: I'm a little worried about him.

Misumi: Let's make some onigiri and bring them to him!

Muku: Great idea!

Misumi: Kazu's favorite is basil and cheese, so let's make a ton of it~!

(door opens)

Kazunari: 'Sup guys~!

Muku: Kazu-kun!? Did you finish your artwork?

Kazunari: Yep! Thanks to Tenten's input, it came out great!

Izumi: Congrats!

Tenma: I'm glad.

Yuki: Good work.

Kumon: We were just thinking about making some onigiri and bringing it to you.

Kazunari: For reals!? Well, I am pretty hungry~.

Misumi: Then let's all have an onigiri party!

Kazunari: Hmm.....

Muku: What is it?

Kazunari: I figured I'd update my Inste, but I don't have anything to post...

Muku: Well it's fine not to update it constantly, right?

Kazunari: It is, but since I post all the time on it, it's become a habit.

Kazunari: ---Oh, I just remembered, I never uploaded that pic I took when I ran into Tenten earlier!

Muku: A photo with Tenma-kun?

Kazunari: Uh-huh! Back when the two of us walked around that gallery.

Kazunari: I took it to commemorate me running into Tenten heading home from work~.

Muku: Ah, I see. That's a pretty good idea for role-building for our play.

Kazunari: It was fun getting to find some inspo for the open-call exhibition~.

Muku: Ah, by the way, what were the results of the applications for that?

Kazunari: I actually should be hearing about that soon...

Kazunari: Oh, I've got an email.

Kazunari: I don't recognize the address... Speak of the devil!?

Muku: Uwah, my heart's racing.

Kazunari: The result is...

Kazunari & Muku: !?

*both kazu and tenma switch to kansai accents here (idk how to tl that accurately so take the country accent copout)

*game where each player draws something beginning with the last letter/kana of the thing the person before them drew (also the theme of mankai's 2021 relay blog!)

*their shiritori answers in japanese are: カレー (karē), 冷蔵庫 (reizouko) aka リーファー (rīfā), 当たり (atari), 猫 (neko). tenma thought misumi drew 船 (fune). yuki guesses tenma’s is 怨霊 (onryou)

*the more accurate tl would be bite (on a fish hook) but i felt this explained it what he meant better

[scfttwice]

lines and squiggles

> chaeyoung likes doodling “temporary tattoos” on jina. fans jump to conclusions every time they catch sight of the drawings.

jina adored chaeyoung's drawings. the latter had her own unique art style that distinguished her works from those of others. sometimes when jina saw chaeyoung doodling something, she'd eagerly sit by her to watch, or try to join in and draw something as well while asking chaeyoung for pointers. and every time jina did so, chaeyoung was always happy to guide her.

jina also loved chaeyoung's tattoos; some of them were designed by chaeyoung herself, after all. two out of the ones that weren't her design—the arrow heart under her right ear and the flowers on her left fingers—were designed by jina (and modified by chaeyoung), an honor which chaeyoung offered and jina gladly accepted. during some of their few lazy evenings, when the maknaes would do nothing in particular except lie around in their dorm's living room, jina would find herself absentmindedly tracing and admiring the tattoos on chaeyoung's skin while she busied herself with her phone.

during their 'more & more' promotions, as twice were waiting in a waiting room for their turn to pre-record their performance in a music show, chaeyoung spent the time sketching in her notebook. when jina noticed this, she was almost immediately at chaeyoung's side.

“whatcha drawing there, chae?” she asked, her question accompanied by a curious head tilt. chaeyoung grinned as she looked up at jina and showed her her notebook. drawn all over the page were various fruits and drinks—strawberries, grapes, watermelons, soda cans, and cocktails, to name a few—all in chaeyoung's signature style.

“you're such a great artist, chae,” jina complimented as she continued to admire the drawings, eyes scanning over the same page repeatedly. “you can make any lines and squiggles look like a masterpiece.”

“hey, your art has been improving too,” chaeyoung reminded her. “still, i'll never be as creative and artistic as you,” jina countered with a subtle pout.

chaeyoung only shook her head slowly in amusement as a response, before she gently took jina's hand and rested it on the table. grabbing her pink, purple, and red markers, she began drawing little flowers on jina's wrist. it made jina smile, out of both happiness and feeling ticklish.

chaeyoung had drawn on jina's skin many times before, mostly on her hands and arms. although she'd get ticklish every single time, jina loved it when chaeyoung did so. “it's like getting a temporary tattoo,” jina had remarked once. “designed by someone close to me, so it's much more precious.”

“will you ever stop being a scaredy cat and get a real tattoo?” chaeyoung had asked her upon hearing her comment. jina immediately shook her head. “no way. i admit, i'm way too scared for that.”

when twice were called to record, jina performed with her members on the stage just as they had rehearsed, having had completely forgotten about the flowers drawn in marker ink around her wrist. it wasn't until after they were done recording and were back in their waiting room did jina catch a glimpse of the colors on her wrist.

“oh no, i forgot about this,” she muttered to herself as she gently rubbed her wrist. “i hope it wasn't caught on camera.”

back in the dorm later that night, as the school meal club were having dinner together, the flowers on jina's wrist still hadn't washed out. not that she was complaining though, she loved them.

“uh, jina,” dahyun, who had been scrolling on her phone, called out while eyeing jina's “temporary tattoo”. “you might wanna take a look at this.”

jina turned her attention to dahyun, who showed her her phone screen. it displayed an article posted not even half an hour ago, talking about how fans online were in a heated debate over whether jina had gotten a tattoo or not. the article made sure to provide a zoomed-in picture of jina's wrist from their music show performance earlier, which clearly showed the colorful inked flowers.

scrolling down, jina found that even the comments section of the article itself was filled with heated discussions over the matter.

“i think jina really did get a tattoo this time”

“no way, i'm sure it's just chaeyoung's drawing again”

“it's exactly like the previous issue about jina's airport picture!! the hearts spotted on her arm weren't actual tattoos!!!!”

“the flowers....it looks like a real tattoo....”

“maybe it's just make up for this stage?”

jina let out a huff of frustration after skimming through the comments of arguing netizens. “looks like i'll have to give an explanation...again.”

chaeyoung was also reading the article and comments over jina's shoulder. she gave a sheepish grin as she turned her gaze to jina. “i guess i shouldn't draw on you right before we have to record.”

“even when we're not recording anything,” tzuyu chimed in. “our fans still manage to find chaeyoung's drawings on jina in any pictures.”

“they have a really keen eye when it comes to idols,” dahyun added in a lighthearted tone.

jina sighed. “yeah, that's true. i'll start a short vlive later, to clear things up.”

she stayed true to her words. she washed up after dinner and went back to sit in the living room, turning on a vlive on her phone titled “talking about my tattoo”.

in hindsight, the vlive title was a huge click bait, but at least it'd attract the attention of more people to watch. it would get the word out faster.

“hi, everyone,” jina greeted once there were enough people in, waving using the same hand that had the flowers. “i'm sure many of you are wondering about this,” she said while holding up her wrist.

“i actually came on vlive tonight solely to address this matter. i saw an article earlier, discussing the rumor that i've gotten a tattoo according to pictures of me taken during our music show performance today. but actually, it's not real. chaeyoung drew on me again, like she had drawn the hearts on my arm a few months ago. that picture of me also went viral and rumors circulated. so this time i wanted to quickly explain to everyone that i don't have a tattoo.”

the chat section of the vlive was full of differing reactions. some fans were disappointed, some were relieved, and there were even some who boasted about knowing the tattoo was fake from the start. jina stayed on vlive for a little bit longer to continue entertaining her fans, before she wished everyone a good night just after she had passed the 15 minute mark.

once the vlive was off, chaeyoung poked her head into the living room. “you're not asleep yet?” jina looked up at her and asked, a soft smile on her lips, which chaeyoung returned with a wider one. she walked over to jina and sat next to her on the floor. “i couldn't help but overhear your vlive,” chaeyoung said. “you shouldn't have told them the truth so soon. it would've been fun to watch them make funny theories.”

jina chuckled. “true, but i'd rather not let them make a big fuss over it.” chaeyoung nodded. “you're right.”

“so now that you cleared the rumors up, can i...?” chaeyoung trailed off, continuing her question by holding up an orange marker pen while smiling cheekily. jina laughed when she understood what it was that chaeyoung wanted. granting chaeyoung's wish, she held out her arm to her.

jina watched in amusement as chaeyoung happily doodled little paw prints along her lower arm.

[rum-and-shattered-dreams]

A rant of personal experiences and trying to do something positive with them:

Okay so procrastination is a huge thing in ADHD. Same with memory issues. (Not that these are always present and maybe some people experience both without being ADHD).

So. Here’s an experience I’m just now (at almost 40) realizing was a thing:

Imagine a huge essay/report/project requiring a lot of research and several sources was due in a few weeks. The advice was always to break it down, take notes, and make an outline. It made perfect sense. And maybe it does help some or even most people.

But for some, like me, it was still impossibly overwhelming and breaking it down was worse. The project was often boring (especially if I had to ignore a hyperfixation to work on it) and even if it wasn’t, it still felt like A LOT when my brain was full of TV static and my memory was shit.

It takes a ton of repetition for me to even temporarily remember something and even then, it will likely be gone again in a few days. UNLESS I learn by actually doing something or figuring it out for myself. And my brain gaslights itself like “do I remember that right? No that can’t be right. Let me look it up for the 100th time to make sure.” And I’m WAY more likely to remember concepts or physical processes but completely forget the terms for them or names of things or important dates EVEN FOR MY HYPERFIXATIONS, damnit... Like, I can do a bunch of crafty stuff and even remember some common terms and items but not the less common fabrics or stitch types or tool names. (Yet somehow I could remember the exact location of hundreds of thousands of items of inventory at my craft store job... even if I didn’t know what they were called. But I stocked them and had physical contact with them so I could picture where they were.) The number one overwhelming thing for me about trying to be a pro at anything is trying to remember terms so it sounds like I know what I’m talking about.

Anyway...

Without acknowledging that, I ended up wasting time by trying to schedule research/work in small chunks because every time I stopped then tried to start again, I wouldn’t remember what I did or looked at last time. (Can I also add that this is why being interrupted is infuriating for me? It probably seems irrational to other people but it’s so hard to get focused on something and now my train of thought is derailed, passengers are dead and injured, and it’s going to take who knows how long to revive the survivors?) And maybe that wasn’t so bad the first time because I’d only have to reread one page of notes. But then it would happen a few more times and my focus would be blurred and I’d repeated myself multiple times in the notes and they’d become a mess and look horrible which was distracting and I’d feel overwhelmed by having to reread and now rewrite several pages and focus would be even worse because I did remember some bits and blanked out while looking at those then stay blanked out then I’d have to reread again to catch the parts I didn’t remember.

But.

If I waited until the last minute, when the consequence/reward system overrode how overwhelming or boring the project was, I could burn through it because I was in constant contact with the material and it was all currently on my mind and I could skip writing notes and an outline and go straight to a fairly decent flow-state draft then keep going through revisions and editing all without forgetting WTF I’d researched. And it would be done in so so so much less time with a lot less effort and frustration.

And...

AND

And then there’s the schedule thing and why it DOES NOT WORK for me. If I schedule doing something (or even if someone suddenly wants me to do something right now) and my brain is like, “nah sorry, just static right now,” there’s absolutely nothing I can do to make it work and I’m just going to get frustrated and tired and depressed and discouraged. But if I keep a loose list of things that need to get done and indicate which are priorities, I can look at it and say “yeah. This one seems doable right now.” No I’m not going to get up and vacuum that spot of cat litter at this exact moment but it’s a good idea to do it soon so I’ll add vacuum to the list and probably get it done later the same day. If the cat throws up, that is an immediate priority so I will get up and make sure they’re okay and clean it because my brain does actually recognize things like that as super important. If a bill arrives in the mail, I’ll stop and pay it right away because I know I don’t have to think/worry about it again if I do. But what sucks about that is that society wants and often understandably needs people to work on a schedule. And I just... can’t.

But I’m trying to take this knowledge and apply it, trying to accept that this is how I function. I function based on a system of priorities that get done in order of “absolutely must be done right this second, whether for my own reasons or outside reasons, even if I need to drop other things” to “this is what I CAN do right now.” Not something pre-scheduled. If I need to leave something to the last minute then I’m just going to accept that that’s how it’s going to be and that’s okay. Then I can free up energy and space to do other things in the meantime rather than worry and be anxious and beat myself up because I should be doing the thing and end up hating things I like doing because they’re not what I should be doing and now there’s a negative association with them. No. Screw that. If all I can do today is play a video game then fine. Gonna enjoy it. Because I now know for a fact, from years of experience, that I will do the important things. They just need to wait until I’m capable of doing them. And... if I let myself stop worrying about old WIPs... They get done eventually too. It might take a few years but as long as I don’t actually decide not to do them, they will get done.

All that said... I still want to look into meds because it would be nice to have more of an ability to focus more regularly. I just need to clear up some other medical stuff first and I’ve got appointments already set up for that.

One more thing... I f$&#ing hate the attitude teachers have about doodling in class. It was literally the only way I could focus during lectures and remember anything they were talking about. I could look at what I drew and remember what was being said while I drew it. F$&% every teacher who took away my notebooks or yelled at me for it. Without it, I’d zone out completely. And THANK YOU to the art history teacher and biology teachers I had who not only understood but encouraged it and actually helped me direct it toward the subject matter by suggesting drawing thumbnails of the art or cell structure or anatomy.

[zayashmaya]

Oh my God please share your poly thoughts on Luna Tagora and Galekh.

With pleasureeeee!!

I’ll do sfw stuff and maybe nsfw hcs another time.

- Luna loves Galekh’s secret artistic side and encourages him to do more than simple notebook doodles. He is still very guarded about his sketches, but Luna understands that we all need a mental safe space for ourselves so she doesn’t pester him about her curiosity. She took him to meet Charun because she is chaotic and wanted to see if these art snobs would play nice (spoiler alert they got along). Tagora will never let those secret sketches go, though. Partly because he wants to see what the hell Galekh drew and partly because the very act of being an annoying snoop pisses Galekh off to no end. Luna lets them strife for the funny drama. All three of them enjoy peaceful walks so they’ve made a habit of showing Luna new places, the safer parts of highblood gardens, etc. Luna inspired him to bring a sketchbook on their walks so whenever they want to relax, Galekh can shut his mind off and work while Luna and Tagora quietly talk among themselves. 

- Galekh discovers the addicting joy of having something small, cuddly, and warm in his lap while he reads by the fire. He’s had little experience with red/pale intimacy, and Tagora is quite literally an angry cat with claws who always wants his space. Even Luna knows that physical intimacy with Tagora needs to be expertly skated around. As such, Galekh never really knew what he was missing until Luna entered the quad. And he quickly realized how much he enjoys having her anywhere near him. He wants it pretty badly once he’s hooked on it, but he either hits uncharacteristically shy mental blocks and doesn’t ask, or he goes off on a thesis-sized tangent that all says one thing - please come cuddle with me. Luna picks up on his neediness early on in the relationship. Galekh is lucky that she’s like a puppy who inserts herself into people’s spaces (if they let her). Snuggle times are wonderful for both of them. Galekh’s chest is very comfortable - he’s not a chiseled muscular athlete, his muscles peak through a bit of chub. And his pecks are like pillows. Luna is thriving. And Galekh is very enamored by her complete trust in his safety. And she’s so soft. Galekh craves dat tactile sensation of caressing Luna’s warm squishy body, her tummy rolls and thick thighs, and her fluffy hair reminds him of his lusus. Tagora sometimes side-eyes this scene because he thinks it’s a little to palerom for his liking, and he is very protective over his quad with Luna, but once Luna starts her horny endeavors to make out with Galekh, Tagora knows he’s in the clear. 

- They all take pictures of each other, especially during candid moments, and it’s so incredibly obnoxious how in love/hate they all are with each other like it’s truly mind boggling to some outsiders who witness their domesticity. Galekh and Luna work out with Stelsa and you bet there’s picture-taking of Galekh’s perfect fat ass and his muscular back and his sweaty concentrating face all flushed indigo and hair tousled like he’s a greek statue. Luna makes sure to get his tattoo into some shots before she sends them to Tagora for that extra kismesis flavor. And she of course has to take creep shots of powerhouse Stelsa for Tyzias. She knows that’s Tyzias’s kink. Luna takes candids of Tagora after he’s showered and particularly relaxed. Settled onto the couch in nothing but a bathrobe that’s sliding down one shoulder, his hair loose and a little disheveled, cradling a mug of Galekh’s hated coffee, and watching the television with a relaxed expression. Galekh texts up a fury over how patheticly complacent Tagora looks with his shitty coffee brand but Luna knows Galekh is nutting over how enticing Tagora looks in the photo. And there is an unspoken unity among Galekh and Tagora to always send pictures of Luna to each other, no matter if she looks silly or cute or beautiful or messy af. All three of their phone storage content is just ... embarrassing. 

- Luna is an expert in palerom intimacy. Truly a woman sent from the gods with golden hands. All of Alternia would bow at her feet if they experience what Tagora experiences during an intense palerom grooming/snuggle session. It’s why he guards his relationship so fiercely - Luna is actually a total catch and nothing short of betrayal or death will shake Tagora off of her. She looooves calming Tagora down to the point of sending him into a stupor-like state where he is endlessly purring and borderline paralyzed from all the positive emotions he’s experiencing. I’d call this something like a palerom subspace. It’s a very intimate moment because Tagora is at his most vulnerable. Usually his head is in her lap with his arms around her waist while she slowly brushes his hair, runs her nails along his scalp, softly traces his horns, grooms the base of his horns (a huge weakness for trolls), and talks low and sweet to him, sometimes telling him how much he means to her, sometimes telling him that he deserves to rest and he works so hard and she’s so proud of him, like idk ya’ll I think this would be considered the filthiest degenerate porn to Alternians. Galekh accidentally witnessed this once and he’s been curious ever since, and also incredibly scandalized. It’s the most embarrassed he’s ever been. Thank god Tagora didn’t spot him or there would be actual physical violence. Galekh wants to understand this palerom ritual just for the sake of knowing, but a part of him also deeply yearns to experience Luna’s attentiveness like that. Eventually Galekh and Tagora reach a mutual agreement (with a 600 page contract on Galekh’s limitations and what lines not to cross). They are honestly just so goddamn extra because they do ALL this shit just so Galekh can have his hair petted without Tagora having a conniption. Luna is happy to oblige! 

God i rambled with these and I still feel like there’s more for me to explore askjfda i’ll leave it here, hopefully you see the dynamics i’m trying to portray here! 

[depressedhatakekakashi]

AO3

Pairing: Hana/Izumi

Prompt: Soulmate

Words:1183

Hana had gotten used to the random scribblings and thoughts showing up on her arm years ago. The first time it happened, she asked her mother what it meant and frowned when she heard a story about ‘soulmates’

She was five and had no interest in soulmates back then.

And then she met her ‘soulmate’ and realized it might be as bad as she first thought.

Izumi was sweet, thoughtful, funny, energetic, and always had the best ideas for new things they could do. She kept Hana on her toes, and was always open to playing with the haimaru brothers when they had free time at the academy.

The only problem was her constant need to write on her arms. From little doodles that she didn’t want to put into her notebook, to thoughts she had when there was nothing else to write on.

All of it showed up on Hana wherever Izumi had written on her own body, so that every evening Hana had a new display of artwork and notes mixed together on both of her arms. The downfall of having a soulmate who is ambidextrous.

So over the years, Hana had gotten used to it.

The ‘I love you’s’ Izumi couldn’t say out loud in certain situations, so she wrote on her skin instead of Hana to read.

The doodles of dogs, cats and a variety of other things that Izumi drew whenever she got bored in a meeting, or had to distract herself while waiting for something to happen on a mission.

Hana was a walking billboard of Izumi’s art and thoughts, and she had become quite proud of that. Showing off everything Izumi shared with her and listening to people comment about all of the things on her arms.

Except for today.

Today, she was wearing a turtleneck that had arms all the way down to her wrists. Covering every inch of her skin that Izumi had left words stained on her skin for the day. It actually drew more attention to herself than normal, with people asking why she would cover the things she was so proud of.

Why would she hide away Izumi’s beautiful art?

Standing by the village gates, she waited patiently for Izumi to come home, and her heart skipped a beat when she finally saw the raven haired Uchiha woman making her way out of the forest into sight.

“Hana!” Izumi’s voice rang through the air, full of excitement and far more energy than Hana could imagine anyone having after a week-long mission. “You come to meet me! That’s so sweet!”

Watching as her girlfriend picked up speed, Hana couldn’t help but smile when she saw the way Izumi threw her arms open for a hug. Clearly she had been missed.

Digging her feet into the ground, she braced for impact. Izumi’s body may have been smaller, but the Uchiha could knock her onto her ass with ease if she wanted to.

As soon as Izumi was close enough, she jumped. Straight into Hana’s arms with a gleeful laugh that bordered on a cackle when she managed to force Hana to take a step back with the sheer force of her body.

“Did you miss me?” The Uchiha beamed down at her, eyes full of glee and mischief.

Clearly someone had been bored on her mission. She still had energy to burn, even after a week away.

“Of course i missed you,” resting her face against Izumi’s neck, Hana brushed her nose against the tender exposed skin and inhaled. Focusing on the smell of her girlfriend that she had been missing for the past three days. Ever since Izumi’s shirt stopped smelling like her. “I always miss you when you’re gone.”

She worried and waited whenever Izumi went on a mission, hoping that nothing bad would happen. Sometimes she even wished that she could go with her, though she knew that wasn’t possible. Hana rarely went on missions for the village these days. There was far too much work to do at the veterinary clinic that kept her in the village, and she honestly wouldn’t trade it for anything. She much preferred to work with the animals of Konoha rather than going out to deal with various types of humans.

Animals were always more fun. Playful and sweet. Even the angriest and most scared animal could be tamed and made to feel safe.

The same couldn’t be said for humans, and that’s what made missions so dangerous sometimes.

“Well, i’m home now,” Izumi laughed brightly, her eyes scanning over Hana. “And what is this? Since when do you wear long sleeved shirts? Where’s my proud Hana, showing off as much skin as possible? I thought you hated the feeling of too much clothing against your body.”

“I don’t,” Hana grumbled under her breath. “But someone likes to write on her arms.”

“I always write on my arms, what’s your point?”

Realizing that Izumi wasn’t getting it, Hana gently set her back down on the ground and took a step back. With space now between them, she started to roll up her sleeves.

“Hmm?” Izumi whispered, her eyes glued on Hana’s arms “O-Oh!” Realization hit, and Hana watched as Izumi’s face turned bright red.

There, all over Hana’s arms were scribbles. Mission plans, defensive ideas, comments about her target. Hana was a walking billboard of Izumi’s mission word for word. If an enemy ever wanted to know what Izumi was planning on a mission, they would just have to kidnap Hana and watch for the notes that ultimately appeared on her arms.

They would get all of the information they wanted, and Hana wouldn’t even have to be tortured. Izumi would be handing it to them of her own free will, though of course she wouldn’t realize until it was too late.

“Maybe I should start bringing a notebook with me,” Izumi muttered, yelping when Hana poked her cheek. “What was that for?”

“I think you should stick to drawing cute dogs on your arms,” She offered instead of an explanation. ���Now let’s not worry about it for now. What’s done is done, just try to avoid it on future missions, ok?”

The long sleeved look was not one that she wanted to have to get used to.

“Mah, Hana,” Looking back at her girlfriend, Hana sighed when she saw her touch a finger to her lips. “You could at least say a proper hello before you scold me.”

Right, how could she forget?

“Sorry.” stepping back into Izumi’s space, she leaned in and pressed a quick kiss against her lips, laughing when Izumi threw her arms around her neck and held her close. Deepening the kiss.

It was intoxicating. Just as amazing as the first time they had kissed, and the second, and every kiss after that. Never getting old no matter how many times they kissed.

Parting, Hana chuckled when she opened her eyes and saw a blissful look on Izumi’s face.

“Come on,” she insisted, sliding out of the Uchiha’s grasp and holding out a hand towards her. “Dango’s on me.”

[seerofmike]

31 Days of Apex: Day 24 (Hobby)

pairing: crypto & pathfinder

word count: 1.3k

tags: spoilers for the broken ghost

fic summary: Crypto draws when he’s bored, and Pathfinder wants to learn.

ao3 link

OR

read below

Taejoon had a headache.

It could be for any number of reasons, really. It could be the fact that Witt hadn’t shut up for the past half hour, talking so enthusiastically about himself to anyone who was willing to listen. It could be that Silva was playing three video games at once and shouting every time he won, or lost (which was far more frequent). It could be the drone and hum of the dropship, so deep and rumbling he swore he could feel it in his soul.

Any one of these would be easy excuses, but he knew the real reason; it was because he had been staring at a computer screen for the better part of nine hours without once stopping.

Taejoon massaged his temples with a groan, eyes squeezed shut, but he swore he could still see the lines of code burned into his eyelids. They had another two days until they dropped onto this new planet, and while mostly everyone was avoiding him, he could perhaps take this time to enjoy some of his other hobbies without having anyone breathe down his neck.

Shutting his computer off, Taejoon knelt down onto the floor to pull out a small box. It contained a few books and pencils, and he picked up the battered copy of a cheesy romance novel he’d read through about ten times already. The plot was about two esports players falling in love, and while Mila had gotten it for him as, like, a joke, he unironically liked it. It was funny, and sometimes, he needed funny.

This time, though, Taejoon could only stomach a few pages. The words seemed to be swimming before his eyes, physically hurting his retinas, and with a sigh he shut it and put it back in the box. Okay, so he wouldn’t be able to read due to his headache. Maybe he should try something else.

Eyeing the sketchbook in his box, which hadn’t been touched in months, he wondered if he should even bother. The dropship occasionally rumbled, and he hated making mistakes, but it was really his only other form of entertainment at this point that didn’t involve worsening his headache. So Taejoon took it out of the box, wiped the dust from the cover with his sleeve, and settled down on his cot with a pencil in hand.

He didn’t really have a goal in mind as he drew--just doodled whatever came to him, and before long the page was filled with sketches of his drone and the occasional cat. He flipped the page to draw on the next one, this time having someone in mind--the main characters on the cover of his novel. He drew two faces side-by-side before starting to sketch their hair, giving one of them dreads as described in the book and the other one wild bedhead. He was just starting to add detail to their faces when a voice made him freeze.

“Hi, friend! I like your drawing!”

Letting out a short puff of breath, Taejoon held his sketchbook close to his chest and glanced over at Pathfinder, who was standing there, his screen its usual smiley face.

“What are you doing here,” Taejoon said, much too flat to be a proper question.

“Mirage told me to go away, so now, I’m here. I saw you drawing, and I wanted to say I like it very much!” Pathfinder’s screen changed to one with heart eyes. “Could you teach me to draw?”

“No,” Taejoon said. 

“I think I would be very good. I can make poems, too. Do you want to hear a poem?”

“If I say yes, will you leave me alone?”

“Hmm...maybe!”

Taejoon sighed, closing his eyes briefly, before nodding.

“Okay!” Pathfinder knocked against his screen to get it back into its smiley face, and then started: “My name is Pathfinder. I like writing cool poems. I want to be friends.”

He stopped, and seemed to look at Taejoon expectantly, who raised an eyebrow in response.

“That’s it?” He asked.

“It was a haiku!”

“...It was nice,” Taejoon lied, not really caring for poetry. When Pathfinder didn’t move, he jerked his head a little to the wider area of the dropship, hoping he would get the memo. “You can go now...”

“But I want to watch you draw!” Pathfinder said, and Taejoon sighed to himself. His head was hurting too much to argue, so with a reluctant sigh he set his sketchbook back down in his lap. He would finish this page and then turn in for the night if Pathfinder hadn’t left yet. Going back to sketching, he gave the characters eyebrows and eyes with ease, but had to erase their noses and redraw them about ten times each.

“Are you having trouble?” Pathfinder asked, sounding curious, despite not much changing in the inflection of his voice.

“I keep making their noses off-center,” Taejoon mumbled distractedly, before finally managing to give them both proper noses and moving on to their mouths. He almost forgot Pathfinder was there as he sketched their clothes, giving the both of them what he always pictured them to be wearing--Dante a baggy hoodie, and Chul a patchy jacket and torn t-shirt.

“Who are you drawing?” Pathfinder suddenly said, reminding him of the fact that he was still standing there and watching him.

“Characters,” he answered through gritted teeth.

“From what?”

“A book.”

“What kind of book?”

“It doesn’t matter,” Taejoon said, because god forbid anyone hear that he liked cheesy romance novels. 

“What’s it about?”

“Why are you even here?" He finally snapped, slamming his pencil down and fixing the robot with a bleary glare. "Shouldn't you be avoiding me like everyone else?"

"Why would I avoid you?" Pathfinder sounded genuinely puzzled.

"Because nobody trusts me." His fists clenched at his sides as he recalled the moment his drone flew around the room, speaking with Revenant's voice, and he felt a hollow feeling form in his stomach as he remembered Wattson's shocked face. Why didn't Pathfinder just leave him alone, like everyone else? Even after Gibraltar had revealed the true culprit, they all still tiptoed around him, untrusting.

He was tired of being framed.

"I trust you," Pathfinder said, and Taejoon stared at him.

"...What?"

"I trust you! Because you're my friend, and that's what friends are for."

Taejoon stared at the other for quite a long time, trying to formulate a response, before he slowly picked up his sketchbook and mumbled, "Shut up."

The MRVN went quiet after that, but he didn’t go away. Taejoon finished up his sketch after giving both of the characters basic-looking sneakers (he wasn’t very good at drawing shoes) and slammed the book shut, glad to get rid of Pathfinder as he leaned over to put it in his box. When he straightened up, Pathfinder’s screen had changed into heart eyes once again.

“I loved your drawing!” Pathfinder said, and gave a little clap. “Your lines are very smooth! Your expressions are very fun! I can tell you really like art!”

Taejoon felt heat rise to his face, but turned his head away under the guise of shoving the box back under his bed as he tried to formulate a response. He’d always liked receiving compliments on his drawings, had usually showed them to Mila so she could list off everything she liked about it to give him a bit of a confidence boost, but he hadn’t had that in years. Finally, Taejoon straightened up, and said coolly,

“Thank you. Maybe I will teach you one day.”

“Well, I look forward to it!” Pathfinder suddenly raised his metal hand, and asked in as hopeful a voice a robot could manage: “High five?”

Taejoon stared at it for a second, debating with himself, before quietly obliging, and Pathfinder’s screen was the most ecstatic he'd ever seen it.

[lunuula]

April 2021 - About finding your voice

Hey there again! How are you doing?

I’m doing great, if we don’t consider the huge amount of work I have to do for school. But it’s already April (2021 didn’t start just like, 3 days ago? No? Alright.) and then I’ll finally graduate from art school in a few months! That’s huge for me! I’ll still have two more years of university (I’m currently majoring in Communication for the creative industry), but finally getting that small degree in illustration makes me feel so proud. If I could hug myself from 4 years ago, studying in a regular university that just wasn’t for me, I’d do it. Past Sara deserves it. You go girl, hang in there!

This month I want to talk about something I get asked about quite often (I don’t know why honestly): finding your style. This is a real pain for some, and it was also for me! Going back to the intro to this post, I have to admit that Past Sara was someone completely different from Today’s Sara. I consumed art in the form of anime and manga and my style was (obviously) leaning more towards that style. Without shame, I can admit that if it wasn’t for FullMetal Alchemist I’d probably be elsewhere now.

We hear about finding your style a lot. How many videos and podcasts have you already consumed, trying to capture who knows what secret recipe to suddenly unlock that style everyone was talking about?

On my part, I can say: a lot. A ton. And they all said the same thing: you have to draw. Draw for a lot of time and draw a lot of different stuff. But drawing is hard, isn’t it? Sitting in front of a blank page, pencil in your hand, ready but for what?

A very important lesson I’ve learned in art school is that you just have to draw. Small doodles, nothing fancy, nothing beautiful. Draw a cat, a car, a carrot. My mom once bought some veggies and I just drew them, then I got sick and changed the subject. It doesn’t matter what, just draw.

Learning that I don’t have to be always perfect, made my art more fluent. Now there are so many things I want to try drawing that I just can’t pick sometimes. Of course I have some fav subjects, but some days I just go “Frick it, I wanna learn how to draw dogs with very long snouts.” (they’re super fun btw). I knew I liked things drawn in a very specific style, something childish and loose, colorful and suitable for children’s illustration. Bold textures and simple shapes always fascinated me, so I incorporated them as well. I knew where I wanted to go, and I was determined and also having fun, so I kept going! I drew such bad stuff sometimes but it was ok. Turn the page and start over.

And with that, unexpectedly, it came. I saw something I recognized myself in, something fun and that I enjoyed!

My friend always says that when we constantly look for things, we don’t find them. And I wasn’t trying to find my style or something, I was just sketching for fun. That daily sketch session to warm up, ya know?

I’m obviously still evolving, and I don’t think that I suddenly came up with something people will recognize me for (or they do? Who knows. That would be nice), but I learned a lot from this experience. Looking at my sketchbooks now, I can recognize myself a bit more, page after page.

This doesn’t mean to be some kind of lesson. “Learn how to find your style in 3 easy steps!!”. Nah. I’m not a teacher and I’m still waaay too inexperienced to teach something, but I think I’m on the right path to build something solid. Maybe you can get some inspiration from this :-)

Anyways! Book rec time!

This month’s book is something I’ve got for studying purposes: a silent book. That’s right, the only word this book has is the title itself! And that title is “Island” by Mark Janssen.

I got this wonderful book because I’m trying to come up with a silent book myself! And I needed to study a bit more: since words are such an important part of illustrated books, the complete lack of them makes storytelling very hard.

How do you tell a story without words? With colors.

And Janssen does that wonderfully.

I thought I was going to flip through that book for five seconds, because it’s mute and I don’t need to read anything: but I was wrong! I found myself observing each page for minutes, narrating a story in my head with every single detail I could see. And I think that’s a wonderful thing! It lets you write a story of your own, just with a few, wonderfully composed illustrations that pop with colors and textures.

Can you tell I fell in love with this book?

And with that, we’re done for April! Next month I’ll be very busy studying and preparing my finals, so I think I’ll tell you something about them. I’m currently finishing up a couple of book projects for school I’m very proud of and I can’t wait to show you :-)

I hope you have a wonderful day, a wonderful month and that you enjoyed this month’s newsletter illustration. If you want to get it, you have to subscribe to my newsletter to get notified whenever a blog entry gets posted :-)

Thank you so much for reading! Bye!!

Images copyright © Mark Janssen

[avintagekiss24]

Doodles and Diamonds

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x black reader (high school!au)

Rating: teen

Warnings: slight language

Word Count: 1858

Summary: Calculus sucks. If it wasn’t for your habit of doodling, you’d never make it through class. Apparently, your drawings help someone else stay awake as well.

A/N: I told y’all I have a problem! Challenges are my weakness. This was written for @littledarlinhavefaithinme 10 marvelous things I hate about you challenge that I found yesterday. The prompt is in bold. Here’s some high school fluff to balance out all of the porn I’ve been posting lately, lol. (the title is referring to a baseball diamond, just fyi)(i’m terrible at coming up with titles).

Calculus is the worst class of the day. It’s right after lunch, so you’re usually stuffed to the gills with french fries and orange soda. You never bring your calculus book with you, so you have to walk clear across the school to get to your car to grab it, so by the time you make it back to the classroom, you’re hot, sweaty, and out of breath. Plus, it’s calculus, so in it’s own right, it’s just terrible. But, day after day, month after month, you stuff yourself stupid with french fries, you run to your car and back, and curse yourself when you finally collapse into your chair from sheer exhaustion. 

The only thing that keeps you awake in calculus is your doodling. You prop your sketchpad in between the pages of your calculus book and fill the pages with everything you can imagine. Puppies, dragons, witches, your teacher turning as a frog- doesn’t matter the subject. You think it, it gets doodled.

Something weird happened a couple of weeks ago though. When making your daily trek to your car, you noticed a sticky note on the drivers window. You peeled it off, your face screwed up in confusion as you read over the chicken scratch.

Can you draw lion eating an ice cream cone?

You looked around but saw no one paying you the least bit of attention. You didn’t recognize the handwriting, which, to be honest, you wouldn’t recognize your own mother’s handwriting if your life depended on it. You shoved the note into your pocket, grabbed your book, and ran your ass to the classroom. You glanced around as the room filled with students, trying to find the doodle requestor, but no one even looked in your direction. Class started a few minutes later, and to keep from falling asleep, you drew a lion eating an ice cream cone. 

Every day after that, a new post it note appeared on your car, asking for some stupid little drawing. A cat playing the flute, Captain America punching a baby, a happy little dinosaur flying a kite during a storm; the requests were endless. But, everyday, you obliged your secret doodle admirer. You drew exactly what they asked for, ripped it out of your book, folded it up all nice, and left it in the seat of your chair. 

Why not just wait and see who picks up the prized drawing, some would ask? And risk being late to art class? The class that just happens to be your favorite, have your favorite teacher, and you share with your bff since third grade? You think not. Finding out who the doodle master is, is really not all that important. Plus, you kinda like the mystery of all anyway. 

Today is like all the others. You finish off your french fries, tossing the paper basket into the trash before you head for the parking lot. Your face is buried in your phone, your fingers tapping away at the screen as you approach your 1965 fire engine red Ford Mustang (a present from your dad, who lives clear across the country and has never been there for you and is trying to make up for it with money- you’re not complaining.) You pick your head up, just in time to see one Bucky Barnes standing at your drivers door. 

You stop, squinting as the wind blows your out of control, curly, frizzy hair in your face. His head is down, his expensive sunglasses propped up on the top of his head, pushing his hair back. You can’t really tell what he’s doing as you approach from the passenger side, but the likes of jock, douche-bag Bucky Barnes being next to your pride and joy, makes you uneasy.

“Umm, what are you doing?” You finally huff as you reach the passenger side door. 

He snaps his head up to you, his blue eyes wide as he shoves his hands into his back pockets, “Uh, you know, just um, admiring your car. It’s in fantastic shape.”

You nod slowly as you purse your lips, glancing around the parking lot, “Uh huh.”

You open the door and dump your bag into the front seat before grabbing your calculus book and your sketchpad. You slam the door shut and pop back up to find Bucky still standing there, his eyes still wide, his hands still in his back pockets. You fold your arms and rest them on the hood as you blink back at him, a smirk on your face as you lift your eyebrows.

He clears his throat and laughs nervously, “Did you um, restore it yourself?”

“Nope.”

He nods, sucking his teeth, “So, you bought it like this, huh?”

“Obviously.” You answer, your voice dripping with annoyance. 

He chuckles again as his nerves get the best of him, “Not a big talker, huh?”

You shrug, “Depends on the topic. My fenders don’t really whip me into a verbal frenzy.”

“Right.” He starts, backing away from the car, “Well, I’ll let you get back to it. I’ll uh, I’ll see you, um, in a few minutes, in calculus, I guess.”

You scoff, rolling your eyes at the whole conversation. The two of you have been in the same classes since second grade, and these are the most words the two of you have ever exchanged. You squint at him as he walks off, a small piece of yellow something grabbing your attention from his back pocket. You lean down to peer through the window to the drivers side, noticing that your usual sticky note isn’t pressed to the window today. 

You move around to the drivers side, checking the door and then the ground, but there’s... nothing. You snap your head back toward the brunette as he crosses the parking lot, that yellow something still sticking out of his pocket as he moves. Your mouth drops open. Holy shit! 

You take off in a sprint, your black converses slapping against the pavement as you advance on him. When you finally reach him, you snag the folded up sticky note from his pocket and nearly double over from the fire that is now your lungs. You should really participate in gym a little more often. He turns, throwing up his hand at you as you try and catch your breath, your hands on your knees.

“What the fu-” He starts, his words halting as soon as he notices the sticky note in your hand, “Gimme that.”

You stand up straight, lifting your arm up into the air as you whip around so that you’re facing the opposite direction. He pulls at your arm and swipes at your hand as you turn sharply left and right, moving your arms up and down and side to side to keep it out of his reach. You bend over and stretch out your arms, using your ass and hips to keep him at bay as you unfold the three by three piece of yellow paper.

“Can you draw a giraffe driving a fire truck?” You read out loud, laughing  as he swipes at your hands again, “Oh my god.”

He curses lightly underneath his breath and finally drops his hands to his sides, “Fine. Fine. You caught me.”

You stand up straight again and turn to face him, “I would have never guessed in a million years that it was you.”

“Why not?”

You scoff, widening your eyes at him, “Golden boy, all star shortstop Bucky Barnes, who hasn’t said two words to me in ten years, is leaving weird requests for me to draw on my car? The Bucky Barnes?”

He shrugs, “I like em, your drawings. You’re really good.” You scoff, rolling your eyes toward the sky, “I mean it! You are.”

You shake your head, unable to wipe the smile from your face, “Thanks. That’s, that’s really nice of you to say.”

“You’re welcome.” He says proudly, “You know, conversations work both ways. You haven’t said anything to me in ten years either.”

“Second grade, actually.” You agree, “You broke my purple crayon.” He throws his head back and laughs loudly, the sound of it making you smile in return. You made Bucky Barnes laugh. Pride swells in your chest.

“Holy shit, you still remember that?”

“Of course, I do!” You screech, “I loved that crayon! Purple is my favorite color. I’m still mad you about it, honestly.”

He throws his hands up, still chuckling, “I’ll buy you a new one. Okay? Will that squash it finally?”

You close your left eye and hum as you tilt your face toward the sky, pretending to think it over, “I dunno, man. That was a special purple crayon.”

“I’ll buy you a whole pack of crayons.” He smiles widely, “I’ll get you that sixty four pack, baby. You’ll be the talk of the town with that thing.”

You cover you face with your hands and laugh, “Oh, god.”

“Everybody will be so jealous of you. It’ll be so fetch.” He exaggerates, holding out his palms toward you as he stains his voice to reach a higher pitch. 

“You’ve clearly lost your mind.” You laugh.

“Hey, I’m just glad our ten year stalemate is over. I don’t know how much longer I could have lasted.”

The two of you share another laugh before it dissolves into silence. He still smiles at you, causing another large grin to break onto your face. You drop your head under his gaze, giggling stupidly as you tuck some hair behind your ear. Are you flirting right now? Is that what’s happening? What in fresh hell?

“So um, you should come to one of my games some time. Like, Friday night, maybe.” He says after a minute, nodding slowly. 

You click your tongue and nod with him, not really sure what to do or say, “I don’t know. I don’t know much about baseball.”

“That’s okay.” He shrugs, “We can get some pizza or something afterward. Or, french fries, since that’s all you eat.” 

You snap your eyes back to him. He wouldn’t know that unless he’s been watching you. Why is Bucky Barnes watching you? What is happening? This is definitely taking a turn that you did not expect.

“I mean,” He shrugs, shaking his head, “You don’t have to, I was just, I just, you know, it’d be cool or whatever, since we’re, you know, talking, or, whatever.”

“Um, yeah, okay. Yeah. That, that’d be, that could be cool.” You answer, nodding your head faster as you fumble over your words. 

Bucky smiles, running his hands through his hair, “Ok, cool. Cool. I guess, I'll see you Friday.”

“Well, aren’t you coming to class?” You ask, pointing your thumb toward the building behind you.

“Oh shit,” He laughs, “Yeah.”

He shoves his hands in his back pockets as the two of you start a slow stroll to your calculus class. You both end up being late and take a tongue lashing from Ms. Fertman as you take your seats. You scoot down in your chair, crack open your calculus book, and draw a giraffe driving a fire truck.

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[amethystlogan]

It’s More Than Just a Squishmallow

Alternatively - Patton’s Excuse to Buy All of the Squishmallows

Summary - Patton is adorable and gifts his famILY squishmallows. Fluff and comfort ensues.

Warnings - minor anxiety from Virgil towards the end

No romantic ships, a bunch of platonic fluff

Human AU

Patton loves many things. His roommates-turned friends-turned family top the list, but are quickly followed by a variety of small enjoyments, such as cookies, movie nights, onesie pajamas, all manner of fluffy animals, and many, many fandoms. But also on the list is a thing that Patton loves, but can quickly become problematic - plush toys and stuffed animals. The problem occurs because when Patton loves something, he can easily go a little... overboard, to say the least. Usually it’s easy enough for the others to reign him back in, especially when it comes to his collecting such things. After all. the six of them sharing an apartment leaves limited space for him to accumulate too many things. The general rule established was as long as Patton could keep his collections confined to his space, it was fine.

However, all reasoning went out the window when Patton discovered squishmallows. The others knew things could quickly get out of hand the moment he came home from a run to the store with the soft, squishy, cat-shaped blob clutched in his arms, his face practically glowing with happiness and excitement. Not even Logan, who would normally be strict about sticking to shopping lists and not splurging on such unnecessary purchases outside of special occasions, had the heart to chastise him.

The cat squishmallow found its home on Patton’s bed, and the others hoped that would be the end of it. But then Patton came home with another. And another. Almost every time he was sent on a shopping trip by himself, he came back with an embarrassed blush and proclamations of, “But look how cute he is!” and “It’s just one more, Logan. What’s the harm?” 

But now, Patton faced a dilemma as he stood in front of his bed, dinosaur squishmallow in his arms, with no place left to set it down. With his new squishmallows, combined with the other stuffed animals he’d already had, there was barely enough room for him to sleep, let alone continue his new collection. He pouted, looking down and the dinosaur. He needed to figure out something! If there wasn’t room in his space, he needed to justify using the shared space in the apartment. And he knew he could probably puppy-dog face his way into keeping this one, but it would likely be the last.

Patton sighed, sitting carefully on the edge of his bed, dinosaur balanced carefully on his lap. As he sat, smiling softly at this small, cuddly friend, he began to think of his real friends. Of their smiles, their hugs, their moments of happiness and almost child-like behavior that they seemed to save for Patton’s famILY movie nights or pajamas only Saturdays.

From across the room, lying on his bed with his sketchbook in his lap, doodling with Disney songs playing in his earbuds, Roman glanced up and could practically see the light bulb go off in Patton’s head. Roman paused his music and pulled out an earbud. “You good, Padre? For a moment you looked like Logan when he finally solved that twelve sided Rubix cube.”

Patton looked up, his eyes shining with excitement. “I’m good, Ro! Hey, can I ask your opinion real quick?” he asked, bouncing off his bed over to Roman’s side of their room, dinosaur in hand. “Absolutely!” he replied, setting his sketchbook aside, “Always happy to contribute in a moment of inspiration.” “Do you think Janus would like this?” Patton asked, holding up the dinosaur. “Run out of room to keep them yourself?” asked Roman, watching as a penguin squishmallow slowly slid off of Patton’s bed and onto the floor. Patton followed his gaze and shrugged impishly. “....Maybe?” He gave a small smile, and Roman couldn’t help but smile back. He turned back to the dinosaur Patton held. “Hm, I think Janus would love him. He likes all sorts of reptiles, and due to the general blobbish shape of these, he kind of resembles those snakes he is so fond of. This dino could be the perfect companion! Especially for those all-nighters he spends with his nose in his law textbooks.” Patton giggled, “yeah, maybe he’s pillow-y enough to convince him to actually go to bed, before Logan goes after him with his laminated sleep schedule again.” “Excellent idea. I think he’d really appreciate it, Patt.” “Thanks, kiddo! I’ll give it to him when he gets home.”

Janus had accepted the dinosaur with dignified gratitude, trying to express that he liked it without seeming overly excited, as he attempted to maintain his smooth indifference without hurting Patton’s feelings. But anyone could see that the dinosaur had immediately taken residence, metaphorically in Janus’ heart as a prized possession, and literally at his desk as his new study buddy. It was to no one’s surprise when Janus threatened to physically fite Remus after he almost spilled ink on the plush after bumping into Janus’ desk when leaving their room with his arms full of various messy art supplies. Janus could pretend sentimental affection for the toy due to it being a gift from Patton, but it was obvious he was soft for the dinosaur.

Thanks to the ink incident, it was clear to Patton which squishmallow to get Remus next time he was out. He practically squealed when patton handed him the purple, squishy octopus. “He won’t mind if you get ink on him, ‘cause he could use it for camouflage!” Patton explained, as Remus immediately hugged the toy to his chest, regardless of the ink and paint all over his shirt. “I love him!” Remus shrieked, pulling Patton into an equally crushing hug, before running off to his room, proclaiming, “Me and Inky are gonna plunge the depths of the ocean for inspiration! Anglerfish ink prints dead ahead!”

Logan shook his head fondly, failing to hide his smile at the interaction. “I suppose I should refrain from informing Remus that and octopus of such bright coloration would likely not be capable of accompanying him to such depths due to lack of sunlight?” “Oh, let him have his fun.” Patton said, flopping onto the couch next to Logan. “They’re adorable squishy blobs of animals, it doesn’t have to be realistic.” “I suppose there is some truth to such a sentiment, although I’m sure we are both aware he will begin to speak to it as though it is conscious.” “I know, but that’s part of the fun, too.” Logan gave a small smile to indicate understanding, if lack of agreement, before returning to his book.

And so,to cater to Logan’s clearly more scientific and practical preferences, patton got him a unicorn, but in key chain size. He figured Logan would be able to look past any scientific inaccuracies with an animal that wasn’t even real. And they were all aware of Logan’s fondness for the fantastical, as evidenced by his own onesie. Logan had given Patton a look over the top of his glasses rim when presented with it, but he wasn’t fooling anyone. He had long ago given up the pretense of being all seriousness all of the time, and found to his surprise that the others respected him no less for it. However, he did choose to only indulge in such frivolity on occasion, such as his onesie only making an appearance at their monthly movie marathons. He did appreciate the mythology and folklore behind such creatures, but was grateful for the smaller, more inconspicuous size of the plush Patton had selected. He chose to attach it to the strap of his shoulder bag for library trips, but carefully tucked the unicorn into the bag. He would never deny sentimentality, but would prefer not to have it on display all of the time. And if Patton caught sight of him gently squeezing the small squishmallow with a fond expression after a particularly stressful day, he chose to make no mention of it.

Roman had honestly been a little trickier than Patton had expected. He’d been standing in that toy aisle for way to long, but it was a difficult choice. At a glance, his eye was caught by a lion squishmallow, which had seemed perfect for their own Gryffindor prince. But sitting behind the lion was a soft, light grey and white owl that drew Patton to reconsider, for reasons he couldn’t quite explain or describe just yet. But the longer he stood there looking at it, the more convinced he was that the little owl was just meant for Roman, even if he couldn’t say why.

It became clear when he got home, and found Roman in their room, almost in tears. He was fighting a major bout of artist’s block, and couldn’t seem to put pen to paper. No idea seemed good enough, bold enough. The white expanse of empty paper intimidated him, and he couldn’t find the courage or impulse that usually drove him through such moments. Even if he could make something, the mere thought of posting it anywhere, it scared him. 

But then Patton came in, pulled the sketchbook from his lap, and handed him that little owl squishmallow before pulling him into a hug. As Roman accepted the embrace, and began to calm down, he looked at that owl, soft and comforting, and he found that moment of reprieve that the others could only associate with Patton. Roman knew that he could always come back to his work later, with a fresh mind and new motivation. For now, he had Patton, and when Patton couldn’t be there, he had that little owl.

When Harry Potter faced hardships, he didn’t need the Gryffindor lion to bolster his courage, but a moment with his friends, or with the loyal owl that was there for him until the end. Hedwig the Second, as Patton affectionately called her, became Roman’s go-to for artist’s block, stress, sickness, or anything where he just needed that moment to regroup.

Virgil knew it was coming, he just didn’t know when. What had started as a simple excuse to buy more squishmallows had grown into a mission of sorts, and Virgil knew it was only a matter of days before he was gifted a squishmallow of his own. He didn’t entirely know what to expect, but hoped it would be a bat, or black cat, or something of the sort that would at least fit his aesthetic. His half of the room he shared with Logan was an emo’s dream after all. He figured Patton knew him well enough to suit the plush to the black and purple scheme he had going. But after Logan’s unicorn, he really couldn’t guess what Patton would do.

The very last thing he expected was the pastel blue dragon squishmallow that might have been as big as Patton himself that Virgil found sitting on his bed when he got home from class. But he couldn’t find it in him to care about his “rep” for the moment, as he was about two steps from an anxiety attack. He’d woken up that morning on edge, it was just going to be one of those days. Class had been awful, he hadn’t understood the lecture, and his fellow students had decided to be louder than usual leaving the lecture hall, only making him more uneasy and overwhelmed. Then he’d nearly gotten run over in the crosswalk coming into the apartment building. It didn’t help that it was one of those rare afternoons when everyone else was out, either in class, at work, or at rehearsal for Roman.

So Virgil stood in the doorway of his room, in an empty apartment, shaking, trying to fight back tears, and found himself facing the light, fuzzy blob of comfort that he knew had come from Patton. Virgil choked out a laugh, wiping at his eyes as he toed off his shoes and climbed into his bed, cuddling the dragon close. He breathed deeply, and slowly. In, and out. He could almost hear what Patton would be saying. He was okay. Logan could help him sort out his class notes. The car hadn’t really been that close outside, the sudden honking was just jarring. He was okay. In, and out. He was home, he was safe, it was quiet. The others would be home soon. He fell asleep shortly after calming down, with thoughts of his friends in his mind and the soft, soothing crinkles of the dragons wings and scales under his fingers.

It may have looked quite out of place in his room, but to Virgil, it didn’t matter. That dragon was his new protection from overrunning thoughts when the others couldn’t be there. And when Patton got home that night, he found himself tackled in hugs, and the dragon found a permanent spot right on Virgil’s bed.

Suffice to say, the others never again thought it a problem that Patton like to collect a few too many of the things he loved, because his famILY was still at the top of his list.

[feathers-and-fisticuffs]

Listen To The Distant Thunder...

[Chapter list HERE]

Kabu strummed his guitar quietly as he watched the clouds gathering on the dark horizon, leaning back against the tree behind him.  Nanu sat with his head resting on Kabu’s shoulder, his eyes closed, just taking in the sound, heart aching.

“And if the music stops There's only the sound of the rain All the hope and glory All the sacrifice in vain,”

The first drops of rain began to fall, the two young men mostly staying dry under the leaves of the tree, the deep rumbling of thunder like a drumroll in the distance.

“And if love remains Though everything is lost We will pay the price But we will not count the cost...”

Nanu’s last night in Hoenn before going on to Alola for his new job, and it was starting to rain.  He wanted to believe, something, somewhere, had a cruel sense of irony, as drops plinked down onto the polished wood, tears that fell just like the rain.  They listened to the distant thunder as the strumming of the guitar fell away to silence.

Word had started to spread across Galar of the two young children who Rose left behind, and although Bede was used to being in the spotlight and handling paparazzi and questions and fans and chaos, Kabu was doing everything he could to keep it all away from Basil.  The damn leeches were everywhere, it was almost impossible to avoid them, and once they realized he was also housing Cyrus, a known criminal... It was only going to get worse as time went on.

Cyrus didn’t seem as bothered by them, and had scared most of them with his delightfully dark and deadpan humor that they mostly stayed away if he was out and about.  His two “friends”, as he called them, started coming around more and more as Cyrus started to heal, and once he was able to move around mostly out of his wheelchair, they began to join Basil with his lessons.

They started with simple things, basic reading, writing, arithmetic, and Cyrus couldn’t help but be impressed with how smart the kid was.

“Rose made me attend lessons.”  Was his defense, though he sounded less than thrilled by that fact.  He wasn’t thrilled with having class now, either.

Having Lincoln around helped, especially as they taught him sign language, and the more Basil absorbed, the more fun he had with it, as Lincoln was quite talkative when he wanted to be and Basil was thrilled to have someone other than Cyrus and Kabu to talk to.

Cyan mostly sat quietly in the corner, sketchbook in his lap, doodling idly and looking uncomfortable around everyone.  Basil had taken a dislike to Cyan but an interest in his sketchbook, so he’d sit as far away as he could while still being able to watch him draw, squinting nosily until Cyan would gesture for him to come over and get a better look.  Sometimes, if he was in a good mood, he’d show Basil how he drew something, or explain a little about his art, but normally he was quiet, closed off, just wanting to have alone time with Lincoln and Cyrus.

Basil, however, wanted to be anywhere but in a lesson.  He would much rather be running around, training his Pokemon and exploring, and Cyrus knew this.  He did what he could to make the lessons interesting, but he could only do so much.

“How come you don’t have any Pokemon?”

Cyrus had been ignoring the hand in the air for five minutes now, he could tell that Basil’s question did not pertain to the lesson.

“That is irrelevant.”

“Do you have pokemon? Do they not like you?  How come you never have them out?  Do your friends have Pokemon?  Can I see them?”

Cyrus groaned.  “Focus on your lesson, please.  Pokemon have nothing to do with your homework.”

Basil crossed his arms. “I can’t focus anyway so you might as well just answer the questions.”  He smarted off with a smirk.

“No, I don’t have any Pokemon.  You don’t get to keep your Pokemon after you get arrested for trying to bring an end to the world as we know it.  I don’t know if they liked me or not, that is their business and it doesn’t matter anymore anyway.  Lincoln does have Pokemon, I don’t know if he’ll let you see them that will be up to him.” He snapped bitterly.  “Can we continue with the lesson now?”

Basil frowned at that, and let Whisper out of his ball, cuddling the Meowth close.  He couldn’t imagine being separated from his pokemon.

“I’m sorry Mr. Cyrus… do you want to hold Whisper for a while?”

“No I do not want to hold Whisper for a while.  I want you to finish this equation.”

Basil dropped the cat pokemon in Cyrus’s lap anyway, before leaning over and getting back to work.

Cyrus growled, annoyed that he wasn’t being listened to, however the Meowth was very warm and very sweet, and he couldn’t help reaching over to give it a pat every so often.

If only for Basil’s sake.  He wasn’t doing it for himself, of course.

************

“You should bring an umbrella with you, there’s rain coming…”  Kabu followed Cyrus to the door.

“It’ll be fine, a little rain never hurt anyone.”  He assured the older man, leaning on his cane as he rushed off to take a walk with Cyan and Lincoln.

“Bye Kabu see you later!” Basil rushed past, almost making it by before Kabu wrapped him in a hug and pulled him back inside.  

“Now where do you think you’re going?”  He teased.

Basil squeaked and giggled. “Hop and I are going to Circhester to have a snowball fight!  Let goooo!”

He let Basil go, smirking. “Alright, just be safe.  It’s supposed to storm and I want you home before that happens!”  He called after him.  

“Okaaaaaaaaay bye!”

Basil stopped to say hello to Cyan and Lincoln before disappearing down the road.

Kabu watched them and smiled, closing his eyes and taking a deep breath, taking in the scent of rain yet to come.  He was so proud of how far the two of them had come, Cyrus could move around pretty freely with the help of a mobility aid, and Basil only needed his cane on bad days.  The doctors told him they expected him to make a full recovery, though it was close, any more injuries and things could have been much worse.

He felt… at peace.  He couldn’t remember the last time things felt so right.  For once, everything was going his way.  He was happy.

“Lincoln, wait up!  I’m old, I can’t run that fast!”  Cyrus called, smiling.  Lincoln was running back and forth through the trees, chasing his Spinarak and giggling.

“He hasn’t looked this happy in months…”  Cyan mused. “You haven’t looked this happy in… well ever.”  He had his hand on Cyrus’s shoulder, an old habit, to keep him steady.

“I haven’t felt this happy in well ever.”  He responded, sounding almost surprised.  “I don’t know how to describe it.  I feel… good.”

“You look good.”  Cyan pecked his cheek.  “I’m so proud of you.”

“Bean!  Get down from there!”  Lincoln was hanging upside down from the branches of a tree, spinarak dangling beside him.  “You’re going to fall and bust your noggin!”

Cyan laughed.  “This is as good a spot to set up camp as any, hm? Are you sure you want to have our picnic out here?  We can go somewhere where you don’t have to sit on the ground…”

Cyrus waved the thought away.  “No, no, I want this.  I want to be out here with you.  And this will make Lincoln happy too.”  He groaned and tried to sit down, letting Cyan guide him down the rest of the way with a grunt.  “There. See?  I’m fine.”

Lincoln plopped down from the tree and sat beside him happily.  “Are you going to catch any Pokemon today?”  He signed excitedly.  “It’d be good for you to have a companion!”

“I don’t know, Bean… I don’t deserve a pokemon after what I did.  And besides, the old man would just take it away from me if he found it.  He doesn’t trust me further than he can throw me, and I’m pretty sure he’d throw out his back just trying to lift me.”  He smirked, and Lincoln snickered behind his hands.

“You keep saying that but that isn’t true you know.”  Cyan noted. “Like it or not he does trust you. He wouldn’t let you teach his son if he didn’t trust you, you’ve seen how protective he gets.  And he’s done wonders for your back, too.”

Cyrus couldn’t deny that.

The three of them ate in silence, just enjoying nature and happy with the company.  It was nice to have time together, just the three of them, and they didn’t want to waste the time with idle chit-chat.  Eventually, Cyrus made them pack it up.

“The wind’s getting strong, we better get back before we get blown away.”

They made quick work of packing their meal and helped Cyrus to his feet, staying much closer to him on the way back, noting how much slower he was moving.

Cyan kicked himself for not thinking to bring the wheelchair with them.

On the way back, Lincoln stopped suddenly, grabbing Cyrus’s sleeve and tugging urgently, pointing to a patch of tall grass.

“What?  What is it, Bean?”

The three of them paused then, watching as the grass quivered, something zigzagging through it haphazardly.  Finally, the mysterious creature emerged.

“Oh, Arceus…”

Standing before them, looking dizzy and confused, was the cutest, fluffiest Eevee that any of them had ever seen. It’s fur covered it’s eyes, and it shook it’s head trying to clear them, before catching sight of it’s tail and chasing it a few more round, plopping over on it’s face when it got too dizzy.

“That’s the most pathetic thing I’ve ever seen in my life…”  Cyan covered his cheeks with his hands.

Cyrus groaned and crouched down to get a better look.  “Come here cute thing…”  It started to wobble it’s way over to him.

More rustling was heard, and suddenly a second Eevee flew past the first like a zubat out of hell, knocking it over before latching onto Cyan’s boot, gnawing and growling.

“Hey!  Get offa me you little ankle biter!”  He tried to nudge it away but it was determined to make an example of the shoe, however its tiny teeth weren’t doing much of anything.

“Catch it catch it!” Lincoln signed excitedly.

“What?  No way, it’s vicious!”

Cyrus reached out to brush the fur from the fluffy Eevee’s eyes, but was met with a fingerfull of needle like teeth.  “Ow!”  He didn’t pull away, watching as it tried to suck and chew at it gently.  “Cyan, they’re just babies!  They don’t know any better they’re just hungry!”  He pulled his finger away finally, watching as the Eevee stood on it’s hind legs and spun around before losing its balance and collapsing.  “Well aren’t you a pretty little dancer!”  He cooed.  He couldn’t figure out why, but he had a sudden need, an urge to catch it.

“Come on, I’m sure they’ll leave us alone, we need to get back before the rain hits.”  Cyan huffed and started trying to walk, but the Eevee kept getting underfoot.  “Hey! I said beat it!”

Lincoln giggled.  “They like you!”  He looked to Cyrus, who was watching them with a small smile, and handed him a pokeball, pressing it into his palm.  “Go on… it’s okay.”  Lincoln smiled and squeezed his hand before stepping aside to let him work.

Cyrus whistled.  “C’mere, little dancer…”  The Eevee perked right up at that and scrambled back over.  “You want to come with me?”  It hopped back up and spun around again, making happy noises. Cyrus smiled and tossed the ball towards it.  “Alright, if you insist…”

He watched the ball shake, once, twice, three times, then the satisfying click of a pokemon well caught.

“Cyan you can’t leave his friend here.”  He scolded.

“I’m not taking it!  It’s mean!”

Cyrus and Lincoln both gave him the look.  He caught the Eevee.

They made it halfway back before the thunder started to break apart the sky and the rain started to pour, taking refuge under a bridge to wait it out with their new little friends.

************

Hop, Basil, Marnie, Milo’s brother, and the new champion all met in Circhester for the most epic snowball fight of epic snowball fights.  They had invited Bede to join as well, but he hadn’t gotten back to them. Basil promised them he’d come around to their games eventually, after all they always had fun playing when they were little, he just needed a little more time to adjust.

Bede had also told him he was going to see Rose, and Basil could only imagine what that had done to him.

He pushed the thought out of his mind while they played and laughed, he hadn’t had this much fun in a long time and he was going to enjoy every second of it.  He rolled his eyes when Hop tried and failed desperately to flirt with the Champion, and rolled them doubly when the Champion gave his attempts in return to an oblivious Hop.  It was like watching Nanu and Kabu try to dance around their relationship and it was painful to watch.

The all eventually got tired out and stopped for lunch, piling into the cozy little restaurant and chatting happily.  Basil was thrilled that they had all accepted him in as a friend, and he quickly lost track of time as they drank cocoa and gossiped about their siblings.

The snow outside was starting to pile up.  The Flying Taxi’s stopped flying over Circhester.

************

“He should be home by now…” Kabu was trying not to let himself relax too much, but Nanu’s arms were so inviting.  “Something’s not right, I told him to be home before it got bad out…”

Nanu pulled him close again, kissing his neck.  “He’s fine, Kabu.  He’s just doing what we did when we were his age.  He probably lost track of time, he’s out with friends.  They’ll keep each other safe.”

They were snuggled together on the couch, watching the rain come down through the window as the lighting blinded them yet again.

“I don’t like him being out in this weather.  The rain is one thing but Circhester?  The snow gets so bad you can’t see your hands in front of your face what if he gets lost?”

“He’s with friends! He won’t get lost.”  He turned Kabu’s eyes away from the window and towards his own.  “You’ve gotta let the kid have a little breathing room, babe.  He’ll be okay.”  He planted a kiss on Kabu’s lips, smiling at the small moan of frustration it brought and Kabu pulled him even closer.

Both of their phones started going off, startling them out of their kiss.

“What in Arceus name..?”

Kabu grabbed his first, scrambling to his feet.  “No more flying taxis.  I’m going to go get him it’s getting too dangerous out there—”  As he spoke, a crash of lightning shattered the earth and the wind tossed a large branch against the window.

Nanu pushed him back down onto the couch.  “Stay here, I’ll go look for him.  He’ll feel safer with you here if he does happen to show up.”  He tossed on his jacket.  “But he’s fine!  He’ll be fine!  Keep your phone on you!”

Kabu didn’t want to stay.  He didn’t want to sit and feel helpless, but he knew Nanu was right.  He was okay, he was with friends.  They’d keep each other safe…

************

The three strongest trainers in Galar gathered in a huddle in the lobby of the Battle Tower (Aside from the new champion, of course, but behind closed doors Leon swears his win was a stroke of luck and not a feat of skill).  Piers, Leon, and Raihan spoke in hushed whispers, just loud enough to be heard over the raging storm outside.

“What about Marnie? He’s had his eyes on Spikemuth for as long as I can remember, I won’t let him hurt Marn, I’ll kill him before he gets the chance…”

“I don’t think he wants to hurt anyone.”  Leon soothed. “I don’t think he’s going to come after anyone.  But we have to be there for Bede and Basil, because he’ll try to get in contact with them and if he does, it’ll be bad news if no one’s there to intervene if his intentions aren’t good.”

“And the Champion?”

“Your brother’s gonna be alright, Rai.  Don’t worry about it.  We just have to keep our wits about us, and—”

They looked up as the bell on the door rang, announcing the stranger’s presence.

“Excuse me sir, the battle tower is closed…”

The stranger was wrapped in a large, ill fitting coat, with a hood that covered his eyes, and a scarf that covered the rest of his face.  He unwrapped slowly, ignoring the warning.

“The battle tower is closed, you need to leave.”  Leon warned again, hand twitching near his pokeballs.

The hood came down, and the scarf came off, and the stranger had revealed himself, though he didn’t look much like himself anymore, a shadow of his former grandeur.

“Please… I need your help.”

[wayverse]

Pink Pendant

genre: soulmate!au

pairing: ten x reader

word count: 1.9k

drabble | scenario | short story | series

A/N : Hello! I’m trying to make my posts look prettier; i saw this layout and thought it would be nice to try, so let me know if this is how I should format my works or not! Let me know what you think of this work as well -- my inbox is open to constructive criticism and suggestions for drabbles or pieces! -- admin m

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Everyone’s soulmate links develop the moment they’re born, and it’s different for every couple; your best friend, Hendery, for instance, has a timer on his wrist. Your other friend, Lucas, has everything that their soulmate loses turn up into his room.

You didn’t know what your link was, until you started middle school. You were in class one day, jotting down your notes, when something began to appear on your wrist. You didn’t notice at first; you didn’t feel it happening either, but soon, there were drawings of little puppies on your body, ones that you didn’t put there.

You never drew on yourself, afraid that you would get “ink poisoning” according to your mother, but your soulmate seemed to have no problem with drawing on themselves. You would get song lyrics, doodles, and the accessional shopping list popping up on your body, your soulmate acting as if their body was their own personal notebook. Once, you had woken up with what looked like marker on your face, and you guessed that your soulmate had lost a bet, or had been the first to fall asleep at a party. You had to stay in that day, as your soulmate couldn’t seem to get it off no matter how hard they tried.

You had always wanted to write back and forth with questions to your soulmate; where did they live? how old were they? What were their passions? you could tell that they were an incredible artist, as they constantly drew tiny sketches on their palms or wrists whenever they were bored.

One of them caught your eye not too long ago; it was bigger than most of the sketches he had done before, using up your entire forearm instead of just your wrist. It was a sketch of a small cat, jumping from planet to planet in a solar system. Your soulmate even colored it in, though the colors quickly rubbed away. That day, you had gotten bold; the colors were rubbing away, anyways, so you took your pink pen and drew a heart pendant on the kitty’s collar, before taking a picture of your soulmates work like you had always done.

Because of your soulmate, you began to look into art, and even went to art exhibits around your town, dragging Hendery along so you wouldn’t have to be alone. He always complained that the exhibits were too boring, and that he never understood why people would pay money to just look at a painting.

“I am NOT going to another one of those exhibits, (Y/N)” Hendery stated firmly one day, after your constant begging, “They’re so boring! I fall asleep every time I go to one.”

You and Hendery met up with Lucas and his friend Xiaojun at your favorite coffee place to talk about a project that you all would be working on together, which soon ending up being less about the project and more about plans that you all had that weekend. You had planned on going to another art exhibit, wanting to bring Hendery along, but he was currently denying your request.

“Please!” You beg, shaking Hendery’s arm softly as he attempts to bite the cookie he just bought, “Please!! There’s one I really want to go to, it’s themed ‘A Starry Night’ and I really want to see it! After this one you will never ever have to come to one ever again!”

“That’s what you said about the last one!” Hendery shook his arm away from yours, taking a bite of his cookie, “I reject your proposal, because you’re going to go back on your word again!”

“I didn’t know you liked art, (Y/N),” Lucas said, “I have plenty of fun art exhibits you could go to.”

You perked up a bit. “You do?”

“Our friend from another school is an art major,” Xiaojun began to explain, “He and his friends throw party-esque art exhibitions. Lots of food, fun music, if it’s themed then it’s usually done at a place that allows them to explore the theme.”

“We’re going to the one this weekend; the theme is a surprise, but Kun said it was a cute theme, so it should be fun.”

“Hendery,” you looked at him, batting your eyelashes as he rolled his eyes. “Please? I promise, this is the last one. If you really don’t like it when we get there, we can leave after a couple of minutes. I’ll even treat you to pizza after! Just come with me, please?”

Hendery groaned, rubbing his temples.

“Fine, but the pizza better come with garlic knots.”

—

The invitation Xiaojun had given you said that the attire was semi-formal, which made it easier for both you and Hendery to dress for it. You had followed the invitations directions, and were confused when they led you to what looked like a cat cafe.

“An art exhibit? Here?” you say softly, looking at the address on the invitation and back at the cafe, “But why?”

“Who knows,” Hendery mumbles, hand shoved in his pockets as he kicks a pebble along the sidewalk. “We should get inside so your fifteen minute timer can start.”

“You may have fun,” you hum, hooking your arm through his as you two begin to walk towards the entrance, “Never doubt what art can make you feel.”

“Yeah, Okay.” Hendery dismisses as he pushes the door open, the soft music of the exhibit suddenly filling your ears. You take a quick look around; everyone was dressed in semi-formal attire, putting your heart ate ease to know you didn’t over or under-dress — everyone was talking, which was a deep contrast to the more silent art exhibits you usually take Hendery to. There was a table filled with sweets in the shape of fish and other delicacies kittens would eat, while kittens were littered all all over the place. There were cats playing with toys, being pet by other attendees of the exhibition, and one even came up to you and Hendery the moment you entered.

“Hey, buddy,” Hendery immediately leaned down to scratch the kittens chin, “How are you?”

“See?” you taunted, “You already like it. Now, go pet cats while I try and find Xiaojun and Lucas.”

“Got it,” Hendery says, giving you a thumbs up as you walk away from him.

It didn’t take you too long to find Lucas and Xiaojun; both of them were adorned in kitty ears, standing in a circle of people while handing them drinks.

“Oh,” you chuckle, capturing Xiaojun’s attention as you stand behind them, “This is too precious. I have to take a pi—“

“No!” Xiaojun says, grabbing your hand as you begin to take out your phone, “No pictures. We lost a bet with Ten, so we’re servers for the exhibit.”

“This is our attire,” Lucas says, touching the ears on his head, before gesturing to the men he was talking to, “And these are the hosts of the exhibit.”

There were three of them; one of them was tall and lean, his body hugged by a white trench coat. His smile softened up his rough features, making his cheeks bunch up at the end. His name was winwin.

Another one’s name was Kun, who seemed to be the one running the exhibition; he was tall and quite friendly, even making Lucas run off to grab you a drink.

“And this is the star,” Xiaojun said, gesturing to the last man, “His name is ten. He only draws animals, so his pieces never end up in their exhibits. This whole theme was his idea.”

“It’s really cute,” you say, locking eyes with Ten. He was very pretty; his eye-shape resembled the cat that he was currently holding in his arms, and his smile was very warm and welcoming. It made your heart clench, in a way it had never done before.

“Thank you,” he said kindly, “I have a lot of pieces up today, so feel free to ask about them if you have any questions.”

“But first,” Kun said, grabbing a hold of tens arm, “We have to mingle with the other guests and try to find some buyers.”

“Right, right.” Ten nodded, smiling back at you, “It was nice to meet you, (Y/N).”

Xiaojun bumped your shoulder as the three walked away. “They’re not that scary. I think you’d like them. Here, i’ll show you some of my favorite pieces.”

As you walked around, you tried to catch a glimpse of the three artists; ten in specific. He caught your attention as soon as Xiaojun began to introduce you to them; though you weren’t very close in proximity, you could smell his sweet cologne, and it made your head spin.

“How old is ten?”

“A couple of years older than us,” Xiaojun said, taking a small platter of fish-shaped treats, “He’s really talented, in a lot of areas. Why?”

“No reason,” you dismissed his question, waving him off, “I’m going to go look at the pieces. Now go and do your job.”

Xiaojun smiled at you before leaving you to look at some of the works. It seemed that Winwin was a sculptor; His main pieces was a sculpture of a small kitten sitting inside a large cat bowl in the middle of the room. Kun’s work was hung up on almost every wall; his way of art was realistic backgrounds, with cartoon kittens doing activities within the scenery for a contrast. It was very eye catching; almost every piece of his already had a green “sold” sticker on its frame. You kept looking for tens, since he was supposed to be the star of his exhibit, but you couldn’t find any.

You circled around the exhibit once or twice, before you saw it; a large canvas that somehow blended into the feeling of the comforting cat cafe. It took up almost the entirety of one wall, which was why it blended in so perfectly. The painting on the canvas, though, had you staring utter disbelief.

Painted on the canvas was a large solar system; it was in black and white mostly, with few colors leaking out of stars or a planet, with a kitten jumping in between two planets. You felt a sense of nostalgia rush over you, your heart beginning to beat faster and faster as you came to a realization. When you looked at the kitty’s neck, you couldn’t help but gasp; there it was, the small pink pendant in the shape of a heart, made to look like it was swinging as the kitten was jumping from one planet to the next. You sat there, looking at it for what felt like minutes, when you felt a light tap on your shoulder.

“Do you like it?”

You turn around to find Ten, a small smile playing on his lips as he looks from you to his piece. “I drew it a few years ago. It started off as a small doodle, but I felt like I had to put it onto the canvas. I knew people needed to see it.”

“It means a lot to me, actually,” ten hums gently, his eyes focusing on the pendant. “It’s not totally my piece, in a sense.”

“I know.”

Tens head whipped towards you. “You know? What do you mean you know?”

You quickly take out your phone and begin searching through your photos, before handing him your phone. On the screen was the photo you had taken of your soulmates drawing on your wrist—the same drawing that is hanging on the wall as you stand next to him. Ten looks back at you, a soft smile on his face.

“It was you.”

[canvasofthecosmos]

Traits I’ve noticed in the rising signs I’ve met

Aries   Catchphrase: “Another Day in Paradise.” A lot of head shaking- pretty much uses their heads to point to objects and communicate in general, hates wasting their breath. First ones to get frustrated when confronted by any obstacles. Firm believer that if you want it done right, do it yourself. Starts a new hobby every few months then gets bored and goes on to the next. Wants SO BADLY for someone to be their gym buddy. Actually just wants everyone to be their friend, they talk to strangers like they’ve known them for years. Falls asleep instantly but also wakes up a lot in the middle of the night. Already thinking of what to get into after this. Taurus Catchphrase: "Hold your horses." Slow but sure footing, maintains eye contact, knows when to raise their voice. Moves like they have a weight on their shoulders. Just wants to get everything out of the way all at once so they end up furiously multitasking. Actually, probably winds up finishing everything at once because they procrastinated too long. During the times they should be catching up on work, they can probably be found doodling, trying to form a band or cooking. Tries to pull all-nighters because they even procrastinate in going to bed, then gives up some time after 3 am and oversleeps that morning. Gets new clothes and then proceeds to wear their staple sweatshirt for the next month regardless. Gemini Catchphrase: Whatever their favorite meme is at the moment. Will Stare You Down with such intent that you think they have beef, but it’s cause they either heard a story about you through the grapevine or just think you’re cute. Will find any excuse to make small talk. Probably talked to you once in passing and now always stops to chat when they see you. Great writers because they LOVE gossip almost as much as practical jokes, preferring to sit back and watch the magic unfold before them. Most likely to get yelled at by a teacher in grade school because they were nose deep in a novel in the middle of a lesson. Takes at least one (1) different personality test online a day. Lays in bed staring at the ceiling for at least an hour before they finally fall asleep. Signs of aging cease at the ripe age of 12. Cancer Catchphrase: “What do you mEan.” Tend to have rounder features, therefore more insecure about their weight even when they’re perfectly healthy. Fueled entirely by emotional fulfillment. You can tell EXACTLY how they’re feeling just by looking at them. Loves to baby anything they can, especially small pets. Always has like 3 candles burning at once. Has 1 tapestry per wall of their room/house. Their clothes look SO comfy but so stylish?? Try hards as kids but when they grow up, they shamelessly enjoy things that they pretended to hate when they were young. You can call them crying at any time of the day and they will come running with a wine bottle in one hand and a homemade meal in the other. Has to clean off their bed before they lay down every night not because its dirty but they have more pillows than one human could ever use at once. At least one of their parents, more likely their mom if they’re on good terms, will adopt all their friends as her additional children. Leo Catchphrase: “So...” (used to exaggerate, inquire, and to connect ideas, often all at once). I know that everyone says this but their hair is the first thing you see, there’s just so much how do you miss it?? So ready to party it has to be unhealthy. Will hug you and endearingly call you bitch within 5 minutes of knowing them. Ready to start so much shit at any time (air signs love em because they can just stand a safe distance away and take it all in) but eventually they or (more likely) the Offender gives in and it’s all good... for now. Heart on their sleeve 24/7. Needs to set the stage of their life all the time and has a playlist for every Mood, which means at least 40. A walking, talking advertisement for their favorite things- #1 hype man/wing man. Loves to sleep, will sleep through any/accidentally turn alarms off instead of snooze them so they have to set 5-10 at least. Will stay in bed as long as possible, and are very rarely morning people. Most likely to rock bangs and pigtails into adulthood. At least half of their possessions are holographic/glittery/light-up. Virgo Rising Catchphrase: "It’s no problem." Chuckles to themselves often because they pick up on the weirdest little details around them. The only time their hands aren’t busy fiddling with something is when they sleep. Seem mad shy at first but will dissolve tension in an instant with a wisecrack. Thrives in awkward situations and uses these opportunities to make friends. Makes things uncomfortable on purpose to watch people squirm. First person in the room to speak up about something and show initiative in projects. Probably fluent in technology, a trade like mechanics, culinary arts or cosmetology, or at least one instrument. Animal whisperers, probably has a couple cats and some fish. Still learning how to get their lives together. Only warning signs before they snap is a split second of frustrated silence. Drawing skills were enhanced the most during grade school because they drew on every surface their little hands could get to. Libra Rising Catchphrase: Probably whatever their friends have greeted them the most with this week. Desperate to connect, so they’ll talk about pretty much anything and probably won’t be bothered by someone they recently met sitting thigh-to-thigh. Makes friends with gorgeous folks but also flocks to loud, outspoken people. Personality is different around different people. Least likely to talk about their family. Perpetually confused but still truckin’. Will talk about anything and everything and see both sides. Only plays devil’s advocate when they don’t care about a topic/point of view and just want you to shut up. Subconsciously acts differently depending on who they’re around. Presentation is mad ambiguous so not only can they easily pull off androgyny but they can somehow flaunt styles that are hard to pull off, and then look like they can be anywhere from 16 to 30 to boot?? Takes a long time to fall asleep because they want to get their life together and plan the most when its time to go to bed.  Scorpio Rising Catchphrase: -they don’t have one as they prefer to communicate solely with their eyes. Either you love them or your hate them. The longer you go without seeing them, the harder it is to recognize them next time you do. Try so hard to look big and scary and unapproachable as a defense mechanism. You only need to know them for a few days to realize that they’re actually HUGE softies. Makes smart-ass comments under their breath when you do something ridiculous because “they can’t help it.” That’s partially true, but mostly they really want you to hear their mumbling so that they don’t have to spell it out to you. Trust me, their backhanded remark you weren’t supposed to hear is much nicer then what they’ll say to your face when provoked. Other than this, they can communicate perfectly with only their eyes. Most likely to give the best advice that no one listens to, but also the least likely to listen to good advice themselves because they learn best from experience. Believes there’s a time and place for everything. Pretends to hate cuddling but snuggle in their sleep; sleeps under a minimum of 3 soft blankets with the fan going. Sagittarius Rising Catchphrase: "I Know, Right?" Either smiling like a fool because they’re completely oblivious or because they know something you don’t, it’s hard to tell. Probably has long legs, most likely to fill out as they age. Somehow always approachable bc they are going into everything with gusto. In matters regarding everything but themselves, they blindly trust everything and everyone around them. Turns everything into a joke. Annoyingly agreeable until they feel comfortable with you, at which point they go full know-it-all mode. They have no patience and once they reach their wits end, they will tell you exactly what’s on their mind and they don’t care who you think you are. Always finding trouble because they have no impulse control and no respect for authority. Once you get them on their soapbox there’s no escape. Can only sleep in total darkness, probably sleeps with a pillow on their face. When you find them asleep in their bed, you’ll wonder at first if they’re dead if you can even see them buried under the covers. Capricorn Rising Catchphrase: Anything sarcastic. Rushes through everything so they have more time to relax before they go to bed at 8 pm sharp. Prominent bone structure, especially cheekbones. Will drop everything to help even though their plate is full because they secretly care but will cover this up with complaints. Gives people they care about allowances of some kind, especially when they have more of something you want/need. Hardest rising to find self acceptance/love, but wind up the best at it. Faces adversity with dark humor. True personality is hidden behind at least a dozen masks. First of their friends to have a Finsta. Rare to find one without an addiction to coffee or cigarettes. Learned at a super young age how to cook for themselves. Most likely to be a latch-key kid. Buys everything online. Researches everything they partake in beforehand at least a week before. Likes to sleep early and wake up early so they don’t miss anything. Plans their next adventure when they try to sleep. Aquarius Rising Catchphrase: something cryptic under their breath that doesn't make sense and can't be translated to modern english. Looks more like their ancestors further up the family tree than their own parents. Has to be raise as many eyebrows as possible. Does everything in a backwards, roundabout way that makes sense to only them. Quickly figures out out all the possible outcomes of a situation, still goes for the most hair-brained route. Makes everything a meme. Weirdest taste in music and fashion, but somehow rocks it effortlessly. They know exactly the impact they have on others and uses it to their advantage. Considers themselves the mom friend. Gone at the first sign of emotional involvement. Attracts drama but denounces it as petty at the same time. Like Capricorn, it’s hard to find one that isn’t addicted to something that’s bad for them. Can only fall asleep if they feel like they accomplished something and made a difference that day, no matter how small.  Pisces Rising Catchphrase: “Livin’ the dream.” Really just wants to go home and dissolve. This is the hardest sign to guess, but once you get their birth time it all makes sense. Sad puppy eyes perk up and reflect everything you are when you have their attention. Consumes media you’ve never heard of. Probably came out of the womb knowing how to play an instrument. Escapism of choice is either drugs and alcohol or fantasy games/books/movies. Half the time it’s impossible to tell if they are currently messed up, hungover or just tired, but it’s always at least one of the three. Doesn’t realize how much people drain them until it’s too late. They try very hard to give it their all, but most of the time they’re running on a low energy reserve as-is. Ironically most awake at bedtime, daydreaming of something to give them hope and a reason to wake up in the morning.