#made this to use as my header and felt it should be shared w the class

[basilcarnations]

he is in the ball pit o no

[raendown]

A story for @insaneflowergirl as part of the @madatobigiftexchange! Only took me six days to realize it’s June. A grand improvement over the last couple months. xD

Pairing: MadaraTobirama Word count: 4049 Rated: T+ Fandom: Naruto Summary: Trapped together by an avalanche in the middle of a mission, Madara and Tobirama make a passing attempt at dealing with the discovery that they are soulmates. And also the discovery that there is only one bed to share for the night.

Follow the link or read it under the cut!

KO-FI and commission info in the header!

Warmth in Winter Hearts

“I don’t suppose if I happened to suggest laying down to rest you might actually listen?” 

“You’re not my mother!”

Tobirama pressed the bridge of his nose tightly between two fingers and breathed slowly. “Gods but I hope not. I have neither the parts nor the patience for that.”

Across the cavern Madara scowled, looking very much like he was only moments away from sticking out his tongue. If he were perfectly honest Tobirama would not have been surprised in the least to see that sort of childish behavior after the emotionally taxing week they’d been going through. Getting put on a mission together was bad enough; they fought like cats and dogs in the tower with separate offices to retreat to, how Hashirama expected them to survive an entire month out here in the wilderness together was a mystery. Yet the worst part had to be getting snowed in separate from the man they were meant to be escorting with no way to make sure the idiot was still alive. 

“When we get out of here,” Madara growled, “I’m going to tear out that asshole’s hair strand by strand.”

“I’m not sure how much of a threat that is.”

“Excuse you, that is a terrifying threat.”

“Not everyone is as attached to their hair as you are,” Tobirama pointed out. 

He was already turning away to build up the meager fire he’d hastily thrown together upon realizing they were trapped in here. Still, he could practically feel the weight of dark eyes glaring at him from across the cave, probably staring at the back of head and judging the hair that he kept short purely for utilitarian purposes. If he hadn’t looked so ridiculous the one time he’d shaved it all off he would just do away with the stuff all together. What good did hair really do him? Not much. If his head got cold he could always throw on a hat. Beyond that he’d never found much of a use for it. 

“Maybe if you took better care of yours then you’d understand.”

“I very much doubt that,” Tobirama murmured under his breath.

The glaring intensified but he refused to take the bait. Feeding the fire and making sure they stayed warm throughout the night was much more important than tending to the quicksilver emotions of a man who, until today, had been nothing but a thorn in his side at every turn. If not for this blasted mission he never would have been anything else. Tobirama closed his eyes and counted his breaths in and out, in and out, slowly, evenly, searching for the calm balance that so many people mistook for unfeeling cold. It hadn’t been so difficult to center himself in years. 

As much as he tried, however, calm remained far beyond his reach. He could keep a placid expression for the idiot across the room but on the inside his emotions were tumbling over each other like a business of ferrets all fighting over the same morsel of food. They were soulmates. Even in his own head that felt strange to admit. So many years spent glaring across the battlefield, several more glaring across council tables and mokuton sturdy desks, only now to discover their connection mere hours before they got themselves trapped inside a system of caves by nothing more than a raging blizzard. Honestly if he weren’t so angry at the timing of it all Tobirama might have been impressed by the sheer volume of snow Mother Nature had seen fit to dump over their heads without warning. More so than the weather he was angry at their client. When he’d told that fool to stay close it had been for his own safety, not to ruffle his overinflated ego without reason. Now he’d trapped himself somewhere else in these caves by dashing off just before an avalanche of snow collapsed over the entrance. Madara had offered to melt through it all but there was little point. There would always be more to come down on top. 

Either their client would be dead of cold in the morning or he wouldn’t. Being here with them wouldn’t do much to change that outcome when he’d already declared that he would rather freeze to death than seek body heat from, in his words, lowly shinobi types. Tobirama would rather lose the income from this mission than let such an asshole touch him after words like that. 

“Ugh.” Behind him Madara sniffed a couple of times. “These smell terrible.”

“Probably because you’re still bleeding inside them.” Tobirama didn’t even need to turn around to know what the other was talking about. He’d wrapped those bandages himself only hours before. 

“I should probably change them. But it’s so cold…”

Standing up to brush the snow from his knees, Tobirama nodded shortly. “Cold indeed. An excellent excuse not to care for your wounds. I’ll be sure to share that one with Izuna when he asks how I could allow you to come home with blood poisoning.” 

A smile flickered across his face when the snuffling turned in to barely muted grumbling, probably a bad mockery of him since that was usually Madara’s last defense against being told to do something he already knew he should have been doing. It only took another minute or two of waiting before heavy footsteps were thumping across the snow-dusted rock to pause just at his back. The hand that shoved itself in to his view looked like some child’s imaginative drawing of a zombie, covered as it was in off-white linen turned black in some places with drying blood. 

“If you’re so worried for me then do something about it yourself!” 

“Use your manners if you want help.”

“Fuck you!” Madara snatched his hand back. When Tobirama looked he was cradling it to his chest with a pout that looked all the more ridiculous than usual when set above a full suit of battle-worn armor. “I’ll just do it myself then!” 

“Will you now?”

A raised eyebrow sent his companion storming off to where they had scraped the snow off a few square feet of ground. Dark mutterings made a lovely background tune as Madara dug through both of their packs trying to find the rest of their medical supplies. When he found them he gave a vicious little noise of triumph and then flopped down on to a nearby rock to pick at the knot on the back of his injured hand. It was hardly the only injury either of them had suffered during the past week of escorting their jittery client through one of the most dangerous sections of the border with Yugakure, just the most serious since it hampered the grip Madara needed on his infamous gunbai. He’d trained himself to use the other hand like most shinobi did but his effectiveness in battle was markedly different when doing so, forcing Tobirama to take point constantly rather than switching out by turns. 

“Don’t forget the ointment,” Tobirama called over helpfully, not bothering to hide a snicker when Madara lifted his head to glare in response. 

“I know that!” 

“Ah so you were leaving it behind in the pack, what, to keep it warm?” 

Madara tore off a strip of bandage and hauled it ineffectually through the air, shouting, “Leave me alone!” 

He should. In truth he really should leave the man alone. Both of them needed a little time to process the discovery of their unexpected connection. Unfortunately Tobirama didn’t have nearly half the interpersonal skills his brother did, he’d never really learned when to leave well enough alone, so instead of giving them both a little space he watched the fluttering bandage until it hit the ground and then lifted his face with a smirk. 

“Very effective. I’m all but shaking in my boots.”

“You will be if you ever let me catch you on the training fields alone!” 

“Go on then, we’re alone right now.”

“Fuck off!” Madara grunted.

Tobirama peeked over his shoulder to make sure the fire wasn’t going to collapse on itself and then turned back to his mission partner. “I don’t think I will. You are literally my only entertainment right now.”

“I am not your entertainment!” 

“No, you’re right. You’re more like a natural disaster that I just can’t help watching. It’s human nature, you know? Like a morbid curiosity.”

Even as he spoke the words he knew he was being an ass but, as he’d said, it wasn’t like there was much else for him to do in this godforsaken cave. He might as well get a few licks in while he still had the energy. Watching Madara’s ears turn red with anger was just as fascinating as it had ever been, though having to force his mind away from examining why he was so fascinated was new. 

“If anyone here is morbid it’s you!”

“Well I’m not denying that.”

“Be more insulted!” Madara screeched. “I hate when you do that!”

Tobirama folded his arms and lifted one hand to tap at his chin. “Do what, pray tell?”

“You’re always so fucking unflappable! Just- just- it isn’t fair! Be...flapped! Or something!”

“Flapped?” He’d never heard anything so ridiculous in his life. It was perfectly reasonable that he should throw his head back and start laughing, thoroughly amused by his companion’s loss for words. Madara didn’t seem to appreciate his reaction but really that wasn’t far out of the ordinary. For the most part Madara had never seemed to appreciate much about him at all and until recently that hadn’t exactly bothered him. 

Right now the only thing flapping was Madara’s jaw as the man tried several times to come up with a response, any response at all. In the end he simply tossed the end of the bandage roll in Tobirama’s direction with lethal force and snatched the closest bedroll, storming off to spread it out across the space kicked free of snow. 

It was a shame to have his entertainment taken away so quickly, even more of a shame to know that if he also tried to bed down right now the only spot to do so would be within range of Madara’s vengeful hands, so Tobirama was left very suddenly with the echoes of his own laughter and little else. The grin on his face turned rapidly in to a scowl. Patient he might be when the situation called for it but he’d never been a fan of keeping the company of his own thoughts. Books were much more pleasant. Much less likely to spiral out of control in to dangerous places or earn him another lecture from his older brother. Not having his library at hand was certainly the worst part of any mission he’d ever taken, filled as they usually were with down time in which he had little to do but plan his next move or stare aimlessly at the surroundings. 

As much as it would probably be more interesting to wander off and explore how far back these caves actually went he didn’t think it was in his best interests to take the chance at getting lost. If nothing else Madara would definitely tell on him when they got back to the village. 

For a minute or so their little cavern was filled with the rustling of Madara settling himself down to sleep, wrenching the blankets off again when he realized he hadn’t put away all the medical supplies, then fussing at them to cover himself a second time. Once he finally settled down for good there was nothing but the sound of the fire crackling merrily away. Sealed off as they were from the rest of the world, the fire was their only source of light. If not for the fact that the caves obviously went pretty deep in to the mountain it would have been a very poor idea indeed to let it keep burning away all their oxygen. Tobirama was grateful he didn’t need to put it out. Aside from giving him something to listen to besides the inside of his own head it also gave him something to look at. Or rather it gave him a bit of light by which to stare off in his partner’s direction, studying the length of Madara's body and the shapes he made under the regulation wool blanket. 

Not a good idea. Definitely not a good idea. Tobirama jerked his eyes away as soon as he realized what he was doing. Better if there had been no fire. He’d rather be blind for lack of light and leave himself at the mercy of the Sharingan for seeing any possible threats than to sit here and stare across the snowy rock like some lovelorn maiden. No matter what discoveries had been made that day they were not some pair of star crossed lovers. There was no need for whatever dramatics his face had just been doing. 

Digging both hands in to his eyes with a sigh, Tobirama decided it was probably best if he just went to sleep too. It was still too early for him to be very tired but falling asleep would at least stop him from following wherever the hell his thoughts had just been trying to go. Somewhere much too thespian for his tastes. He wasn't his brother, after all, there was no need for him to sit here and analyze his feelings or some other such nonsense. If the fire burnt down while they slept and he woke to darkness, well, he did still have Madara with him; just because he was rightfully leery of the Sharingan’s powers didn’t mean he was above taking advantage of them when he needed to. Perhaps a little mean when the man was injured by, hey, he wasn’t the one who could see in the dark and that was hardly his own fault. 

Another sigh caught at the edges of his teeth and slipped out sounding more like a hiss when he pushed himself up on to his feet, striding over towards their packs with careful footsteps. There was no telling what sort of uneven ground could be hiding under all this snow. So far away from the dancing flames his already poor vision was even worse so at first Tobirama assumed that Madara had simply kicked everything out of place while looking for the bandages. It wasn’t until he gathered all of the packs together and dug through every one of them that he realized one very important item was missing. 

His eyes snapped over to the prone figure only feet away. Madara lay stretched out and perfectly still on top of his bed roll. Or, more accurately, the only bedroll. In all the kerfuffle of their client running off and the avalanche trapping them in it appeared they had lost not only some of the food they’d been carrying but also their second sleeping mat. 

If not for the snow on the ground it wouldn’t have been such a big deal. He still had a blanket and it wasn’t like he’d never bedded down for the night without something comfortable to lie on, catching a few hours up a tree whenever he had to and doing so without complaint. The problem was that lying down on frozen rock had only one outcome and with both of them already injured in various ways he certainly couldn’t take the risk of waking up with pneumonia when there was a perfectly viable - if crushingly embarrassing - solution snoozing peacefully right there. He really hoped Madara wasn’t too comfy just yet. 

“What?” his partner snarled when he was nudged lightly with one foot. 

“Shove over,” Tobirama demanded. 

“The fuck? There is literally a whole cave of space, go make your bed somewhere else.”

“Can’t. I have to share your bed so shove over, Uchiha.”

Madara snapped upright so fast they both heard something in his back pop, though neither paid it much attention. “You fucking what now?”

“There appears to be a distinct lack of a second bedroll anywhere so unless you want me sneezing all over your bandages when I inevitably have to change them you will shove the hell over.” Tobirama crossed both arms over his chest like they could hold in all the confusing emotions trying very hard to bubble their way to the surface. 

He wasn’t sure what to think of the way Madara’s jaw hung open wordlessly, couldn’t properly make out the nuances of that expression without more light to see by. Maybe if he weren’t standing at such an angle as to throw the other man in shadow- but to step aside now so he could see better would be to admit how bad his eyes really were and that was a weakness he’d never bothered to share even with his own brother. He settled instead for standing his ground until that rounded jaw snapped shut again for Madara to harrumph loudly. 

“Fucking- are you serious? This is ridiculous! Where did the other bedroll go?”

“Probably lost in the snow somewhere but I would honestly much rather be sleeping right now than trying to guess at things I may never have an answer to. So. Shove. Over. I will not say it again.”

Ignoring Madara’s voice shouting in his ear was as easy as tuning him out, a feat barely comparable to the task of tuning out Hashirama in the middle of high drama. Tobirama untied his armor and set it all aside carefully. By the time he turned back he noticed that, although the screaming hadn’t so much as paused, Madara had gone ahead and moved over a few inches anyway. He did give vent to a few choked noises when Tobirama slid in under the covers with him but it wasn’t difficult to parse out why. Tobirama was still up on one elbow when he paused to examine their situation.

Which way was he supposed to face? They would both be warmer if he faced inwards and curled himself around Madara’s back but such a position felt much too intimate. Facing away from each other would be blessedly less intimate but there wasn’t exactly a whole lot of space on the mat beneath them and it would take only a single shift for one of them to roll away from the other, taking all the blankets with them. Sleeping on his back was generally the way he preferred but, again, space was the main issue. He would have to lay half on the snow to do that. 

“Just...just pick something and go to sleep,” Madara grumbled.

“Eager to cuddle?” Tobirama snapped at him, a response born more of habit than any particular ire. 

“Fuck off!” 

Just for that Tobirama slumped down on to his right side and made sure to curl in as close as possible, grinning viciously to himself as the other man stiffened noticeably. He himself was far from immune to the awkwardness but petty spite had always driven him faster than any care for his own comfort. If Madara hated this then he would lie here awake all night before he rolled over to make them both comfortable. 

It would have been nice, he admitted silently after several minutes, having enough mercy in his soul to relent and just roll over. Tomorrow promised to be an absolute bastard of a day, not least because the task of digging them out of this place would undoubtedly fall mostly on his own shoulders. He definitely could use some rest before tackling that. Instead he lay there with eyes wide open staring at the back of Madara’s head and wondering what reactions he might get if he pulled on some of that bristling hair. Almost as though the man could hear his thoughts Madara curled in to himself a little tighter. The movement was an innocent one. The way it pushed Madara’s rump in to the cradle of Tobirama’s hips was most decidedly not an innocent result even if it was obviously unintentional. 

“Nnngg!?” 

“Very intelligent,” Tobirama breathed, not wanting to speak louder for fear the sudden rush of want running through him might be heard in his voice. 

“That wasn’t- I didn’t- fuck off, Senju!” 

“I will have you know that it is taking all of my energy not to instinctually respond with an implication you would rather I fuck you instead.”

Madara’s screech could probably be heard through the several feet of snow blocking their cave entrance. “It doesn’t count if you still say it you idiot!” 

Yet for all the screaming protests he went on to ring both of their ears with, Madara’s reaction notably lacked one thing. He never once tried to move away. Oh he waved the arm he wasn’t lying on and jawed until Tobirama began to wonder if he wasn’t wearing down the bones of his own skull from overuse but not once did he so much as tilt his hips in to a different position. 

Such telling body language gave Tobirama all the clues he needed to figure out exactly what he’d missed in their earlier conversation. It was possible these types of clues were something he’d been missing in all of their past interactions, body language he never noticed simply because he tried to look at the other man as little as possible. To his shame such a habit had been built entirely on the premise that Madara hated it when people didn’t pay attention to him. From now on he promised himself he would pay closer attention - even if he might not let Madara see such efforts. Just because he was begrudgingly interested didn’t mean he was willing to set that spite down just yet. Some habits took longer to break than others. 

And some would never fade but maybe that was more of a personal failing than anything else. 

“White flag.” The words were out and hanging in the air before Tobirama even realized his mouth had decided to speak before his brain had a proper sentence ready. In front of him Madara stiffened impossibly further. 

“The hell are you on about?”

“I...am waving a white flag. We both need rest. This is, ah, comfortable enough. Let’s just put any further arguments or conversations on hold until tomorrow and go to sleep.” 

Madara seemed to chew that over for a moment until he asked very quietly, “Like this?” 

“I am comfortable if you are.”

He half expected to have the man roll over and deck him in the face for such presumptions. When the silence began to stretch he wondered if he was meant to take it as agreement until he heard very quiet words drift back to caress his ears, a softer sound than he had ever heard from this man in his life. 

“Your arms’ll go numb sleeping like that. Might as well...might as well stretch them out.” 

“Ah. I didn’t presume-”

Tobirama cleared his throat before very carefully shifting back to make room for where both of his arms were folded tightly against Madara’s back. When he stretched one out neither of them said anything about Madara lifting his head to make room for it beneath the pillow they shared. And when he stretched the other out with very delicate movements they both remained utterly silent as he laid it gently across Madara’s waist. 

It was the subtle relaxing of all the muscles pressed up against his front that finally made everything click. Oh but he was a blind man. A very blind man with terrible vision to boot. If anyone asked he was going to blame every misunderstanding on the man in his arms with zero shame. 

Tomorrow they would wake to fight their way past the snow and put in at least a token effort to find their wayward client. Somewhere along the way they would search for the supplies that got lost in the shuffle. But as he closed his eyes Tobirama smiled to realize neither one of them was likely to put a whole lot of work in to finding that second bedroll they had lost, not when it seemed their newly discovered bond was something Madara wanted much more than he’d let on before. 

[ashes-in-a-jar]

Tag game!!!

Tagged by @bluejayblueskies <3 <3 <3

1- Why did you choose your url?

My online name is Ashes and the jar of ashes felt appropriate given it being a very romantic gesture in some social circles ;)

2- Any side blogs?

A bunch of side ones for various fandoms mainly for my own filing and safekeeping (things I think should be shared more I reblog to this blog for traction). Also I have an art/writing reference blog and cool random stuff blog and of course the @jonsimsandcats blog (with another friend)!

3- How long have you been on tumblr?

Around 14 months! I'm here very late comparatively 😅

4- Do you have a queue tag?

Nope! I queue things sometimes so as to not be overwhelming but I don't know what to have as a tag for it (or why I should have one for that matter if anyone would like to enlighten me)

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

Wanted to find more tma artists and content and maybe request some art I had in mind but couldn't draw myself? I realized pretty quickly that's not how requests work but stayed for wonderful art and speculations and friends I made since :)

6- Why did you choose your icon/pfp

My charcoal art from a few years ago that felt appropriately fitting for a tma blog xD

7- Why did you choose your header?

My favorite bit of tma art i made that I'm very proud of!

8-What’s your post with the most notes?

The There are many disadvantages to being an Archivist one but only because it breached fandom, around 6k I think.

9- How many mutuals do you have?

Not sure actually! Maybe 20 maybe 60 I can't really tell. I also follow alot of side blogs of people for art who might or might not be following me but who knows.

10- How many followers do you have?

I'm almost at 1,234 and super excited about it!

11- How many people do you follow?

About 300 and even though I do follow and unfollow quite easily it doesn't deviate from that much

12- Have you ever made a shitpost?

Define shitpost xD

13- How often do you use Tumblr each day?

A fair few! During breaks at work I like to scroll through the tma tag and queue posts and sometimes go though my feed to see if anything interesting is afoot in the world 😂

14- Did you have a fight/argument with another blog once?

A specific blog? No, not arguments. Discussions yes but I try to avoid aggressive people and being aggressive with strangers (and people in general!). I do sometimes get some suspiciously angry anons but I never engage unless I feel what they have to say is valid.

15- How do you feel about “you need to reblog this” posts?

Don't really care for it? I curate the people I follow very much so I don't get much of those kinds of posts which I think is good?

16- Do you like tag games?

Really really depends on my mood. Jay caught me at a perfect time to want to write something <3

17- Do you like ask games?

Same answer as above! I sometimes reblog them if I feel I have the energy and confidence to answer but sometimes I'd reblog and the amount of asks I get is too overwhelming or my mood would suddenly change so I just shut down, sorry to anyone I haven't answered in the past 😅

18-Which of your mutuals do you think is Tumblr famous?

All of them are tumblr famous in my heart ♥

19- Do you have a crush on a mutual?

Does the previous question answer this?

Tagging @m-e-w-666 @spider-plants @bagginshield @artificialdaydreamer @wordsintimeandspace @hihereami only if you want, no pressure! (or anyone else who sees this and wants to)

[airi-p4]

Miraculous escape - Chapter 2

Chapter 1 | Chapter 2 |

Thank you @alittleshycat for the header and wanted posters pic! 💙 Thank you @brickercupmasterx3​ for proofreading! 💙

I’ve been into comedy lately for some reason... This chapter has been finished for a while, but I’ve been writing more of this story. It’s fun to write because they’re all stupid XD

A/N: Remember this story is Lukanette + Adrigami endgame.

Chapter summary:

The fugitive and disguised men arrive to Milan and set in their Hotel rooms and Rose holds a girls' pajama party.

AO3

_________________________________

Chapter 2: Arrival to Milan

The train arrived at Milan later than scheduled. Not that it surprised any of them - except probably Adrien who always rode bullet trains instead of cheap ones. Delays were part of the public transportation's everyday life (at least in Southern Europe).

It took them eight hours to reach the Italian city, and Adrien and Luka had mostly spent the time either sleeping (from exhaustion of the day before) or daydreaming about the girls that caught their attention. Juleka glared at them more than a few times too, reminding them to focus on their acting, but they pretended not to notice. She seemed to be having a good time with the short haired blond lady seated next to her, anyway.

During the ride, Madam Mendeleiev also assigned their hotel rooms: two members per room, sharing it with the person beside them during the train ride. That meant Luka and Adrien were assigned the same room, and Juleka and Rose and Marinette and Kagami would share theirs too. The men were relieved with the assignments- at least they could drop their acting during the night.

After arriving at the hotel, and leaving their suitcases at their respective rooms (courtesy of XY, who didn’t miss his chance to flirt again with ‘Lucia’- ew ), the band members reunited again to have dinner. Too bad for them, they didn’t get to share a table with Marientte or Kagami, but shared it with Juleka and Rose.

“Hey!” Rose called for their attention. “Why don’t we have a girls' pajama party here later, when Madam Mendeleiev is asleep?” she suggested.

“I don’t think it’s a good idea-” Luka started, but was blunty cut by Adrien.

“Oh, yes! A party! Yay! Let’s do it! It will be soooo much fun!” Adrien exclaimed happily, amicably joining the palm of his hands with the grinning Rose's.

“Yay! I’m going to tell the others!” Rose said, running to the other areas in little hops.

Juleka and Luka could only facepalm at Adrien’s reaction. It was probably his first ‘pajama party’, of course he would be excited. ‘Just be careful’, Juleka warned them, giving up at Adrien’s puppy eyes.

A few hours later, after assuring Madam Mendeleiev was pleasantly asleep, the boys changed into old fashioned nightgowns and moved to the Hotel’s bar, where almost all the ladies were already chatting and drinking together. Luka was disappointed to see how Marinette wasn’t there, and he soon left the party. On the other hand, Adrien was completely enjoying himself with the ladies. Chatting, laughing, singing, playing cards, fortune reading… The rich boy had never had so much fun in his life. Kagami had left early, but Adrien had made sure to stare at her as much as he could before his eyes couldn't follow her anymore.

Meanwhile, sick of his acting, Luka moved to a closed common room nearby. Dark and cold as it was, he didn't expect to find Marinette sleeping in one of the coaches, next to an incandescent lamp.

“Hey, are you ok?” He asked, shaking her a little. Marinette’s eyes opened all of a sudden, almost giving Luka a heart attack.

“Oh! Sorry!” She apologized. “Where am I?”

“You fell asleep in the common room. Can you walk...?” Luka asked her. She stunk of alcohol- lots of alcohol. Marinette nodded but almost fell down on her knees as soon as her feet hit the floor. Luka sighed. “Where's your room? I'll take you there”

“206” she answered, and Luka lifted her body to carry her in princess style. She was very light and he was probably enjoying her in his arms more than he should.

“Wow! You're so strong for a girl!” she said, in fascination, between hiccups.

Luka froze. *Shit* ‘ She’ll find out I'm actually a man at this rate! Think Luka, think! I need an excuse! ‘“It comes with carrying a guitar everywhere” he answered nervously.

But Marinette wasn’t really thinking. “That's amazing!” A short pause followed. “Wait! Put me down!” she demanded, and Luka obeyed, seating her on the coach again. “Let's have some girl talk before going to sleep!" she grinned.

Marinette's begging eyes were too much for his enamored heart and his body automatically answered. "Okay"

"Yaaay" she said loudly in a celebrating tone, between hiccups.

Luka gulped. She looked absolutely defenseless and beautiful in her pajamas. If he hadn't already fallen for her, he would have again at that moment. His long fingers threatened to betray him any moment, longing to feel her perfect skin under his touch. He bit his tongue trying to suppress his predator instincts and act like the woman Juleka expected him to be.

"Won't Madam Mendeleiev get angry if she finds us?" Luka asked, looking for an excuse to leave.

"She won't!" She assured, pouring more alcohol into her cup and taking a sip. "We'll just turn off the lights and hide, and that would do. Here." She offered him a glass. "Have a drink with me"

"Thank you. I could never say no to a drink" 'Let's hope it distracts me enough from my ‘naughty’  thoughts...'

"You know?" Marinette started, stopped by another hiccup. Luka carefully listened to her dreamy voice. "I thought you were a man at first…"

Luka choked on his drink. 'Oh, no. We've just arrived! Have I been found out so easily? I can't let her find out yet! We need to escape and-'

"Hahaha- really? No way. See? Breasts" he quickly answered, lifting his fake breasts awkwardly.

"I knooow. I'm just joking" she giggled, making Luka sigh in relief. "I haven’t introduced myself, have I? My name is-"

"Ma-Ma-Marinette, right?" Luka giggled, but stopped immediately after noticing her hurt expression. "Sorry, I didn't want to make you feel bad"

"No, it's ok. It's my fault for being so clumsy…" tears had started to form in her eyes and Luka felt his own heart hurt in regret.

"No, no! I should have been more sensitive. Sorry." He sincerely apologized.

"Thank you ugh- sorry. I don't think I caught your name…"

"Lucia" 'God I hate this name'

"Lucia. Pretty name. Are you from Spain? Or Southern France?" Marinette asked, curious.

"Yes, I'm from the Basque region" he lied to add credibility to his act.

"That explains your strength!"

"That's just a stereotype, Marinette… but who knows? Maybe I should try tearing a trunk in half with my bare hands sometime" Luka joked and Marinette laughed.

"You're so funny!" Her laugh sounded like the most beautiful melody in his ears, inspiring him to compose hundreds of songs. "Want more?" She offered him her bottle of alcohol.

"if you insist..."

Marinette opened the bottle to fill Luka's glass, but her trembling hands made her spill the alcohol on Luka's lap, surprising him.

"Oh, sorry! Your sleeping dress…" She lamented.

"It's fine. I'll ask for the hotel’s laundry service to clean it tomorrow and it will be fine" he smiled. 'how could anyone get angry at those beautiful regretful pure eyes? Impossible'

"What are these voices! Is anyone here!?" Madam Mendeleiev shouted from the aisle.

"Oh no! Hit the lights and hide! Here!"

Marinette pulled Luka's body strongly to hide him behind the coach, hugging him. During the minute they spent in that position, Luka forgot how to breathe, in awe of her softness and unexpected precise reflexes.

Madam Mendeleiev later moved toward the room where the girls’ party was taking place, and Luka could only feel sorry for Adrien. ‘ Good luck, my friend’ . But actually, he was more worried about himself, since the chest of the woman he liked was pressed on his face.

"Ufff… she's gone. Sorry!" Marinette stood up, offering her hand to Luka.

"No, it's fine…" he recomposed himself, shaking his head. "We should go back…" 'before the alcohol controls me and I do something stupid'

"Yes…Thank you for keeping me company, Lucia." She smiled.

“My pleasure" he smiled back. "I’ll go get Ad- Noirette first. Will you be fine on your own?”

“I guess so?” she answered, dizzily.

While Luka helped Marinette stand up, Kagami called for her friend, running towards them. “Marinette! I’ve been looking for you! Don’t tell me you’ve been drinking again? Are you ok?” she said, passing her arm under Marinette’s to help her steadiness.

“I’m perrrrffffect!” she said in a hiccup. “Thanks to Lucia! She’s soooo strong, you knowwww?”

Kagami’s eyes narrowed at Luka, giving him chills. But soon she apologized for her friend’s behavior, bowing her head at him. She also informed him she would take her to their room and thanked him for having looked after her friend. Luka excused himself to go look for ‘Noirette’. Kagami’s eyebrows frowned at his comment and started walking with Marinette.

“See you tomorrowwww, Luciaaa. Goood niiiiiighttttt”. With an exaggerated waving salute, Marinette almost fell straight to the floor in front of the elevator. Thankfully, Kagami made it in time to prevent the accident.

"Good night, Marinette. See you tomorrow" Luka waved back, blushing at her clumsiness.

'This is bad' Luka thought. His heart beat faster than ever. ‘ This girl is too damn cute. I’m going to fall in love for real if this continues... ’ Luka shook his head to snap out of his thoughts. Time to get Adrien back.

Back at the elevator, Kagami kept looking at ‘Lucia’ with judging eyes.

_____________________________________________

When Luka arrived at the party room he could see the girls (and Adrien) being scolded by Madam Mendeleiev. Not daring to show himself, he waited until they all returned to their respective rooms to meet with Adrien.

“Adrien! Are you ok? I saw that witch scolding you. Did you have fun at least?” Luka patted his back.

“Luka! Where were you? It was so fun until that old woman arrived… I’ve never had so much fun before! We drank, sang and played games… I love this band already. Do we really have to leave…?” Adrien mumbled, looking like he was about to cry. Luka could sympathize with his feelings.

“Sorry, Adrien. You know what will happen if your father ever finds us… I’m happy you had fun, though”

“Thanks. Where were you, by the way? I’ve been asking for you, but nothing”

“You won’t believe it! I got to spend some time with Marinette! Man, I thought I would pass out due to her cuteness. She’s too much for my heart…” Luka answered, grinning like a lovestruck fool.

“At least it went well in your case… I couldn’t even exchange a word with Kagami before she left, and she avoided my eye contact…”

“Tomorrow is going to be another day, don’t worry. It will go better next time, you'll see. Remember we have rehearsal all day tomorrow. We should sleep” Luka said, removing his wig. Adrien mimicked his action, nodding in agreement.

Suddenly, the door opened and the two men froze. ‘Oh no’

“It’s not what it looks like!” Luka screamed, followed by Adrien’s “What he just said!”

Juleka rolled her eyes from the door, going inside the room. The clueless musicians sighed in relief.

“Are you stupid? Why didn’t you lock the door before removing your wigs? Do you want to be found out when the escape just started?” she scolded them, who made apologizing puppy eyes at her. “I’m here to discuss your escape plans”

“Oh” they both responded, making Juleka sigh at their dumbness.

“It seems no one has figured out your true identity yet. The police are still looking for you in Paris and France, so you should be fine- at least for now” she informed them.

“Good thing there’s no internet or mobile phones in this story! That would make things very easy for them to spot us when we play with the band” Adrien said, more to himself or someone not present in the room than to his interlocutors.

“Ad, man, what are you talking about? What the heck is intern- whatever you said” Luka asked, confused.

“I don’t know. I had the feeling I had to mention it. Nevermind- I don’t know it either. Go on, Juleka” Adrien shrugged and let Juleka continue with her explanation.

“See? This is the band's schedule. We’re spending this week in Milan, then Verona, and then the band is going to perform in Venice. I contacted mom with my radio and she’s going to get us a motorboat ready to escape. I’ll have a radar prepared with the coordinates so we can meet in the sea with the Liberty- mom’s ship” she clarified for Adrien. ”That’s your escape plan. Make it to Venice, and it will be your win. Don’t screw it up! Understood?”

“Yes M’am!” they said in unison, doing a salute pose.

“Good. I’ll be here early in the morning for your make-up. Good night” she said, reaching for the door. “And lock the door next time” she warned before closing it.

Luka immediately hurried to lock the door and let his body finally relax and fall to the bed. “Let’s go to sleep… It’s been a long day…”

Adrien agreed, and just like that, the men fell asleep under dreams of beauties and the feeling of being chased by the demon himself.

[mochipcy]

check in tag ☁️

tagged by @xiucore @heoseoksgf and @untouchabyeolman thank you lovelies 🤍

why did you choose your url? because chanyeol my love is soft like a mochi (and it just sounds incredibly cute hahah!)

any side blogs? if you have them name them and why you have them not yet but I’ve been meaning to make a bts side blog for forever now…

how long have you been on tumblr? I created my first account in 2011 or 2012 I think? It still exists but I don’t post on there anymore. I just couldn’t delete it tho too many memories!

do you have a queue tag? yes it’s qt hours! It sounds like cutie but is a q pun (look at me being funny) and it’s always cutie hours when posting about exo 🤍

why did you start your blog in the first place? I wanted to post my own gifs and felt like I needed a new blog for it. My old blog was pretty multi and for content creation I wanted a blog solely dedicated to exo. And of course I joined tumblr to connect with other people who share my interests! (Pls be my friend and talk to me about exo 🥺)

why did you choose your icon/pfp? it’s one of my favourite pics of chanyeol. He looks so soft and gorgeous with his long curly hair and the oversized sweater. Boyfriend chanyeol is my favourite chanyeol (I also made it b&w to fit the ✨aesthetic✨)

why did you choose your header? i wanted an ot9 pic that matched the soft aesthetic of my pfp (also made that b&w to match the overall aesthetic of my blog design)

what’s your post with the most notes? I think it is still the soft exo exol revival post! (I hope exol revival will have a revival soon it was so much fun I miss it 🥺)

how many mutuals do you have? I don’t actually know the exact number! But I love all my moots 🤍 (also let’s be moots if we’re aren’t already 🥺)

how many followers do you have? around 900?

how many people do you follow? like 70 I think? And a lot of people are inactive unfortunately! If anyone has great recommendation pls send 🤲🏻

how often do you use tumblr each day? I think I open it a few times a day but I don’t always post something. I really want to get back to being more active but life is so busy atm

did you have a fight/argument with another blog once? who won? I never had a fight with anyone! I don’t even receive anon hate! My blog isn’t interesting enough I guess!

how do you feel about ‘you need to reblog this’ posts? Everyone should only reblog what they want there is nothing you “have to” reblog imo

do you like tag games? I love them! I feel special every time Someone Tags me in something like aww thanks for thinking of me 🥺🤍 but omg @xiucore I feel you sm! I see the notification and am happy about it and like it to do it later and then I forget and answer tags that someone tagged me in 100 days ago 🥲

do you like ask games? I love them too! But I never reblog the ask games cause I think no one will ask me anything anyway 🥲

which mutuals do you think is tumblr famous? all of my mutuals are talented people and they all should be famous tbh!

do you have a crush on a mutual? I don’t but I love you all 🤍

tagging @taiteaaa @madotae @kkoongiees and everyone else who wants to do it! 🤍

[mrfutureboy]

@rovermcfly tysm for tagging me and sorry this took 5ever!!

why did you choose your url?

i wanted a bttf url last summer when i got back into the fandom, and i wanted it to be specific to marty bc i love him but i also want to be him. im like, obsessed with the nickname "future boy" that doc gives him in 1955, and the url futureboy is taken, so i am mrfutureboy bc i am marty (kinnie shit)

any side blogs? if you have them, name them and why you have them

i literally only have a handful for url-saving purposes. @rhodeystark and @masloki are my most notable old urls so i wanted them for safe keeping. i also have @goodnightfutureboy bc that was one of the bttf urls i was considering and i never got around to deleting it (if by chance anyone wants that lmk)

how long have you been on tumblr?

I think i joined in 2010.

do you have a queue tag?

back when i blogged a lot on desktop, xkit worked for me, and i actually queued shit for my blog it was “since queue been gone” bc i thought i was clever. i still think its clever tbh i just dont really queue anymore

why did you start your blog in the first place?

Iirc, an irl friend of mine heard about tumblr thru an upperclassman she was friends with, so she was like “sonny we should sign up for tumblr!” and i was like sure why not. first url was miss-math bc thats my deviantart username

why did you choose your icon/pfp?

im obsessed w mjf but im also a kinnie /j. i specifically love his look in that interview and also i own a very similar sweater now so. it me. also im basically aromantic even tho i dont really use the label so yeah i put that behind his pretty face

why did you choose your header?

skfkdksk its because i kept fucking dying in the stuart little 2 gba game. I havent played in a while but im stuck on the level where stuart goes into the sink drain to retrieve the wedding ring that isnt even in there

what’s your post with the most notes?

Feel free to fact check me, but im 90% sure it’s a screenshot of gwen and trent from tdi that i took, where gwen is like leaning on the table all miserable and trents got his hand on her back, captioned “rb if you agree” bc i thought they were really cute. i still get fucking notifications for that post i think its at over 500 notes now

how many followers do you have?

i dont particularly like sharing this since this is the only site that doesnt make that public, and it’s nice to not feel intimidated or make other people feel intimidated or ashamed, like how it kinda makes you feel bad when you have fewer followers than your friends on insta. but i’ll play, and as of right now i have 1065 followers im very grateful for <3

how many people do you follow?

240. ik my ratio is bad i promise im not being an asshole abt it

have you made a shitpost?

Ive been on tumblr a long time. Of course i have

how do you feel about ‘you need to reblog this’ post?

I get turned off by those posts a lot but i do be reblogging shit sometimes ill admit. but not blindly like i have to actually read it and care about it. But if its a 10 mile long post where everyones adding how necessary it is that its rb’d, forget about it

do you like tag games?

yeah!!! it just takes me a long time to finish them lol

do you like ask games?

I dont play them v often or receive them but i do!

which of your mutuals do you think is tumblr famous?

@chloezhao, period. also @jedflah and @lonepinetimeline were some of the big names within the bttf community that i kept seeing last summer and i remember being like “omg they followed me”. (Well. Actually with theo i didnt recognize his main blog so for an embarrassingly long time i didnt realize we were mutuals slfksk. he would like my personal posts and i was like “wait who is this” and i felt like a huge idiot when i realized it was him! our 1 yr friendaversary is coming up love u cowboy <4)

do you have a crush on a mutual?

no but @biathelstan and i are cowboy soulmates

Tagging: @biathelstan @thereisnosafetythistime @anakins-rattail @mahourobotto

[lalahbug]

Snapped!Canada x Reader

Fandom: Hetalia Word Count: 1,805 My Masterlist Warnings/disclaim: general Some sexual themes, I kept it pretty PG-13 though. Author’s Note: (continued under story) Originally posted on DeviantArt, under the same username, on 11/05/2012. Revamped/edited in 2020. ___ is a blank for your name/oc/whatever you prefer Written in 3rd person Line/header is to separate paragraphs to indicate time skips, as Tumblr hates my formatting. Story under cut

          "Why don't you just shut up, you bloody frog!" England screamed at France.  

          "Why don't you make me?" He replied childishly, sticking out his tongue.  

          Somehow at every world meeting, they got into a fight. ___ had been coming with England for a while because he asked her to after she had found out he was a nation. She wasn’t really big on world issues and usually tried to avoid then, because she was secretly a nation too.  

          She didn’t want anyone to know though so she had been avoiding these meetings for years, but once Arthur told her he represented England she was forced to come. Arthur wanted her there to support him, but she never really did. Once she noticed how much Arthur yelled at the meeting, she would sit far away from him and next to Matthew, he represents Canada. He’s a quiet guy and very sweet, although no one really ever saw him.  

          ___ and Matt would talk in and out of the meetings, for a few years. Eventually, ___ got to know Matt very well and started developing feelings for the cute Canadian. She would defend him whenever she could, especially when people tried to sit on him. Even though a lot of people didn’t see him, ___ always did.  

          "Hey, Russia!" ___ shouted at the tall man, he gave her a childish evil glare, that usually scared everyone. But she wouldn’t be scared of him especially if it meant protecting Matthew.  

          "Please, call me Ivan."  

          "Ivan, don't sit on Matthew."  

          "Who?"  

          "The seat you’re about to sit in, Matt is already in it!" He stared at her blankly, making her sigh. ___ stood up and pulled Ivan to her seat. "Here just have my seat." She really just didn't want the Russian to hurt Matt.  

          "Oh, why thank you, ____."  

          "No problem, I was doing it for Matt-”  

          Two strong arms wrapped around her waist, cutting her sentence off, the arms pulled her into some hard. It was Ivan's chest and his arms were locked around her waist. "Why don't we share your seat?"  

          "Ivan you're drunk, your breath reeks of vodka."  

          "I am not drunk; I just simply have been drinking."  

          "Whatever, let me go!"  

          "You're not scared of me that is why I like you."  

          "Let me g-" She was cut off by two strong lips pressing against hers. ___ squeaked and immediately tried to push him off of her. Out of the corner of her eye, she saw Matthew get up and run off. ___ hit Ivan on the chest and struggled against him even more as she heard Alfred call after his brother. Finally, Ivan let her go. ___ quickly ran after Matt but couldn't find him. Soon after that Germany called attention to the meeting and got issues resolved. Everyone was soon dismissed and England gave her a ride home.

          A couple of weeks had passed since ___ had talked to the Canadian; he wouldn't reply to any of her messages nor showed up to the meetings. So once again, she called him and waited nervously as the phone seemed to ring forever.  

          "What?" A groggy and rude voice demanded.  

          "Alfred, give Matt his phone! I really need to talk to him." Any happiness she had when the phone stopped ringing was replaced with annoyance for the American answering Matt’s phone.  

          "What makes you think he wants to talk to you?"  

          "Alfred F. Jones! Give Matthew his phone! What happened to you? I thought you wanted me to talk to Matt and tell him what I should have before,” she almost whispered the last part because her embarrassment kicked in remembering Alfred telling her to confess to Matthew.  

          "Just come over if it's so important to you then." Then he hung up and ___’s embarrassment was quickly replaced with annoyance once again. She quickly grabbed a long thick jacket that went to her knees and her snow boots. Collecting her purse and keys, she stormed out the door and trudged into the knee-deep snow.  

          The cold air just made her calm down, making her think more clearly. But before she worked out the flaws to this plan she was already to Matt's house. She knocked on the door and quickly stuffed your hands back into her pockets. Then Matt opened the door, his clothes were baggy and disheveled and his hair was uncombed.  

          Matt just stared at ___ with her hood and hair flaked with snow. Her beautiful face had been pinched red from the cold wind. Her (h/l)(h/c) hair was a mess from the wind and clear signs of her pulling her hood back up many times. Matthew then felt a very cold embrace from ___.  

          "I was so worried about you!" ___ hugged him tightly, then looked up at him with watery tears, she had missed him so much.  

          "Would you stop that? It's really annoying. No one ever asked you to worry about me." His voice was level and mean.  

          "W-what are you talking about?" She looked at him with dismay. "Was it you on the phone?" He just nodded. "What is wrong with you, Matthew?"  

          "Nothing is wrong, what's wrong with you?" ___ grumbled before pushing away from Matt and going inside. "Well, just come on in why don't you." Matthew spat at her slamming the door.  

          "I will, it's freezing out there!" She took off her jacket and kicked off her boots. ___ looked around at the place and it was a mess. Normally, Matt had a clean organized place, now, looked like a tornado had ripped through his home.  

          "What the hell do you want, ___."  

          "What do you mean what do I want?! I haven't seen you in weeks. You were ignoring my messages and you never showed up to the meetings!" She let her voice raise a bit.  

          "What does it matter to you? Go kiss your boyfriend because I sure as hell won't be kissing an ugly girl like you." ___ just stood there staring at the Canadian. He was not the Matt she had grown to love and she was becoming worried and scared. She did what her body would let her do, without freezing up, she smacked him as hard as she could. He just laughed, it wasn't like funny laugh; it was a crazy laugh. She grabbed him by his shirt.  

          "What have you done with my Matthew?!"  

          "I was never yours!" He growled at her.  

          "I defended him! I talked to him!"  

          "That doesn't make me yours!"  

          "I love him and I want him to be mine so where the hell is he? Tell me because you surely aren't the same man I love and that used to shyly compliment me. My Matt would have never called me ugly." She started to break down. "I thought you loved me too!" She yelled at him before starting to sob. She gripped the front of his shirt while crying before pounding on his chest. "You are my Matt, and no matter what you do I am going to love you! So call me ugly all you want. It will never change the fact that I lo-"  

          Suddenly the world was blurry and her head was hurting. Her wrists were pinned against the wall and there was a pair of soft and firm lips against hers. Matt had pinned her against the wall and was picking her up off the ground now. Wrapping her legs around his waist and forcefully shoving his tongue into her mouth. There was nothing planned or polite about this. It was a spur of the moment and very passionate. His tongue wrestled with hers and quickly won and started uncovering any secrets in her mouth. Matthew's hands were roaming her body and started to pull up her shirt. Before he could get off any of her clothing, he broke the kiss. Air was stinging her lungs as it entered once again and it wasn't easy getting it back into her system though. As they both panted sharing the small area of air.  

          "I love you," Matthew said once his breath returned and he laid his forehead on hers. His hands started to fumble with the buttons on her shirt.  

          "I love you too. We don't have to do this now, Matt."  

          "No, we do need to. I have been waiting long enough and you're not going to make me wait any longer." With that he ripped her shirt open, buttons flying everywhere. She gasped and saw the look in his eye as his hands started rubbing on her sides. He wasn't going to take no for an answer knowing that she loved him.  

          "May I request a bed then?"  

          The sexual gleam in his eyes flickered and a slow sexy smile graced his handsome features. "As long as I don't have to stop anything I am doing on the way."  

          ___ woke up in the dark by herself, she got up and found one of Canada's hockey shirts and pulled it on. She walked through the house looking for her Canadian lover. Finding him on the couch in his boxers watching TV. She smirked at him before walking over and sitting on his stomach, clearly pulling him out his reverie, making him jump a bit.  

          "Of course not." With the last words the Canadian's mouth attached to the (s/c) skin on her neck and started to bite and suck meanly. ___ moaned and arched her back slightly. He hugged her body close to his so he could start walking to his room.

          "Hello, my dear." She smiled sweetly at him.  

          "Hey. Sleep well?" He turned his gaze to her, giving her a soft smirk.  

          "Yeah, why weren't you there when I woke up?"  

          "I needed to think." He then seemed to notice, all she was wearing was one of his hockey shirts. "Are you trying to start a round two?"  

          She giggled. "Depends. Can I have the sweet side of you this time? Because I have a few bruises that are going to take a bit to heal."  

          "No. You’ll know when he's back by the cleanliness of the house." ___ looked around, still a disaster zone.  

          "I guess he's gone?"  

          "Well, now I’m a bit aroused and still angry at Russia, so yeah, he's gone."

          "Well, I am okay with whatever side you have Matt. I love you. Dark or not, although the dark side is a bit of a bonus sometimes,” she winked at him.  

          "Oh shut up already and let's get busy."  

          "Don't tell me wha-" He cut her off with a rough kiss and pulled off the shirt.  

          “You're mine. I will do what I want with you, problem?"  

          She kissed him back gently. "As long as you love me and care for me. Then never."

Author’s Note: Continued On dA, I put this as a 2P!Canada, but someone told me it’s more Snapped!Canada, which now with editing this again, I agree on. So here it’ll be Snapped!Canada, on dA I’ll leave it as 2P!

[abbyccpsarts]

Process Journal

Link to my Learning Agreement

2.10.20

This week I organized all of the Polaroids I’ve taken thus far into mini books to help organize and protect the film. I’m still working on finalizing the list of “bucket list” items I want to complete, as well as what the journal entry prompts will be. Besides the pretty big gap in research that I have with this, my project doesn’t feel “substantial” enough right now, if that makes any sense.

Some of the photos below!

(above is from the museum I went to, below is from my trip to Israel!)

Additionally, I did a critical response workshop with fellow Arts Scholar Adriana Alonzo:

Critical Response Process-w/ Adriana Alonzo

Statements of Meaning:

- Likes how this project has an air of “fulfillment”

- “Fun” premise; Makes it real life, not a HW assignment

Artist as the Questioner:

Research angle: the mental health benefits of traveling, journaling; Research the individual aspects of your project

- Logging mental health over a long period of time

-follow up research on the ones I enjoyed

Neutral Questions

- How many “experiences” do you plan having; do you know

Goal between 10-12; subsections within each “header”; don’t have final list

- How are you going to set up website?

Current plan is to have a gallery, but also direct links to each experience; A more clean cut design than the original scrapbook

- Any research on website?

Probably gonna have a page about that; be the home screen? (maybe not)

Permissioned Opinions

- Do you like the experiences I’ve brought up?

“It’s cute! I think the mix you have is good; always people to relate, like you want”

2.12.20

I had my advisor conference today with Heather and she gave me some really great advice on avenues I can go down for the research end of things. One thing Heather said that is really sticking with me is what she said about making this an experiment of sorts—I’m not just going to complete these bucket list experiences, but having a common theme/experiment throughout that will help me connect them. What if this experiment was prose related? I wanted to add in a writing element other than journaling originally so this could be my opportunity to do that.

I’ve also decided to use Wix for the final web format. It’s easy to use but also has the opportunity for “advanced tinkering,” as I like to say.

2.17.20

I’ve had a breakthrough today—I was hanging out with my writer friend and I remembered a while back she was talking about how one of her english classes had them do an assignment where they had to “people watch” for thirty minutes once a week and write down some of the conversations they overheard. My friend used this to help better her dialogue in her writing. I’ve decided to emulate this but take it a step further: I’m going to go to places I’ve always wanted to go to, but I’m going to people watch at these places—write down snippets of conversation I might overhear, etc—and then choose a subject/person to write a short story about. This allows me to not only experience new things, but try and put myself in a new mindset, context, by writing in these places about someone/something else. Because there’s a new, more time-consuming and creative-consuming element to this capstone, I think it’s wise that I aim for 5-6 total pieces/experiences instead of the originally intended 10-12. 

2.19.20

I had my first look presentation today and overall I’ve gotten some really good feedback from everyone. I still need to thoroughly go through the flashcards I got from everyone, but so far everyone seems to like the direction it's going, even giving some great suggestions for what format the stories should be in (flash fiction maybe? Or even dabble in poetry as well) and how I could narratively tie all the stories together. Below is the google document I used to succinctly point out the differences and similarities between this “new” capstone and the old one.

A Collection of Stories Inspired by People (or Wizard) Watching

SIMILAR ELEMENTS

Still In a web format

Still involves me going out and trying new things; simply asks me to be more engaged with my surroundings and other people there

Still involves reflection/journaling on my part

Still involves a photographic complement

DIFFERENT ELEMENTS

New narrative element- I’m writing a short story about a person experiencing the space I’m in;

Possibly contrasting and/or complementing that story to my own personal emotions tied to that space

Story is going to be the main focus, while my own thoughts are going to be secondary

RESEARCH

Fairly new idea, so I’m working on curating a new list of sources, but I’m going to primarily focus on researching the benefits of people watching, actively being creative in a new space (seeing how that affects my writing process), etc

2.21.20

Today I started messing with Wix a bit. I’m definitely jumping ahead on my schedule and ignoring what I should really be doing (research!!) but I’m giving myself some breathing room to get my thoughts and such accumulated to this new idea. I don’t want to share any pictures of my website bare bones until 

2.24.20

My goal for this week (on top of research) was to compile a rough list of the places I want to go for writing this story. A lot of the preliminary reserach I’ve done on writing/being creative in a new space suggests having a “control;” this means, in regards to this particular project, that I need to write in a space I’m familiar with and see how that differs from writing in a completely new space. Then there’s also the question of how I’ll write at the beginning when I’m first introduced to the new space, and then how’ll write once I get slightly more acclimated to the space. Regardless, here are my ideas for where to people watch/write as of today:

(1) Starbucks route 1 [serves as my control for this “experiment”]

(2) Bookstore/Restaurant (I’m visiting one next Thursday for a comedy show)

(3) “Somewhere” in NYC (visiting w/ scholars—write during free time?)

(4) Center of a campus (not UMD— maybe Towson? over Spring Break?)

I don’t want a totally “complete” list yet, as I want opportunities to present themselves as I go along, but I still think it’s good to have a basic list of things to do. I think the first thing that I’ll end up doing is either the Starbucks one (my control) or the bookstore/restaurant since I’m attending a comedy event at one next Thursday.

3.1.20

I haven’t really made much headway in research, writing, or anything to be honest. I had a pretty busy weekend—worked most of Friday and all of Saturday— and now I’m starting to get a little bit nervous. I’m switching up my weekly plan a bit and having this week be primarily research and working on my annotated bibliography. Then maybe I’ll have a good idea of how I want to go about people watching for the comedy show this Thursday. 

3.4.20

Last week we had arts scholars alumni join us for our weekly discussions. While I was expecting a plethora of great advice from each of them, It was also great to hear about how they each struggled, and that changing your mind is okay. 

3.10.20

Tonight we heard that school is going to be closed down for the next month or so because of the current worldwide health situation (it might be a pandemic. we don’t know yet). As much as I hate to admit it I’m more annoyed than anything, but I understand how paramount safety and health is over any frustrations I might have. I know we’ll adjust accordingly. I hadn’t really thought about how this was going to affect my capstone until now. Hopefully I’ll still be able to travel to new places. Everything’s pretty hectic right now so we’ll see what the next few weeks bring.

3.25.20

Creativity; Time Management Chosen Technique: Incubation. While I’ve utilized “taking a break” while I’m working, (going to take a walk, etc) I’ve never really considered it in the context of “this is my time to let my thoughts marinate.” I really enjoyed reframing my mindset while taking incubation breaks and found that it allowed me to not only work longer, but more effectively.

3.31.20

It’s been an interesting month to say the least. I’m going to have to change my capstone quite a bit in light of the rest of the semester being online and not being able to travel to write my pieces. I’m really not quite sure what I’m going to do, but we’ll see. I have nothing to show at this time. I have my research but I haven’t dived into writing because I’m unsure of what direction to go in. Perhaps after I talk with Heather I’ll have some more direction.

4.5.20

Curation Rapid Prototyping Exercise: essentially, my sketching revolved around the various menu tabs I want for my website.

- An Artist’s Statement/Process page (BTS)

- Research page

- A central page for someone to visit that organizes all of the pieces onto one “table of contents” that links to each pieces individual page

- An individual page for each piece

- A contact page?

Second Advisor Meeting: 4/9/20

I met with my arts advisor (Heather!) over ZOOM today and thank god because I can salvage this capstone. I honestly with I’d reached out to her sooner. We’ve found a way to salvage my research and redirect/reword it to fit the current situation. I’ll be writing about rooms in my house that I’ve changed emotions for. It plays into my research on the Differential Susceptibility Hypothesis (our susceptibility of change due to environmental factors) and change itself. I want these pieces to encapsulate a clear before and after, and how that may have negatively or positively affected me.

Second Look Presentation: 4/17/20

Going into the second look presentations I felt more grounded in what I wanted to write about and the literary mediums I was going to write about. However I still feel like I’m lacking focus. Heather’s feedback on my central question really had me think about how I can clarify and specify the focus and the audience of my capstone. I’ve decided to rephrase my central question as: What’s new? It proposes that something has changed, but it allows me the flexibility to offer different answers with each prose. I intend to add some context to this question on my Wix page (perhaps in the process section?). 

4.21.20

For my show and tell I’d like to share a screenshot of the brainstorming process of my pieces right now, alongside a few little rough excerpts. I’ve also thought of doing a mini photo shoot to provide visuals for each of these pieces if I have time.

[zer0-ner0]

Mr. Høcker’s execution and torture price list!

Well, while researching for my comic, i found a bit of fun info that i thought i would share! A price list from 1698 of the services that Norwegian executioner Augustus Høcker provides! 

-But, since it’s only in Norwegian, your humble servant will present to you an English translation, and afterwards some history and facts for the ones of you feeling extra frisky!

Some disclaimers: i’ll translate it very literally, so that would be the cause of any fun grammar, also, i’m Danish, not Norwegian, so what I might believe to be weird spelling, might, in fact, just be Norwegian, haha.

without further ado, the translation of the price list found here https://no.wikipedia.org/wiki/Augustus_H%C3%B8cker : 

Chart 1: Price list for the executioner 1698

• For a head with a sword to chop off - 10 Riksdaler, around 570$ in current prices 

• For a head with an axe to chop off - 8 Rdl., around 458 $

• For a hand or a finger to chop off - 4 Rdl., around 229 $

• For a head and a hand to be put on a pole*, for each 2 Rdl. - 4 Rdl., 229$

• For someone to hang - 10 Rdl., 570$

• For someone to take down from the gallows - 4 Rdl., 229$

• For someone to be put on the breaking wheel*² - 7 Rdl., 400$

• For someone to be put on the breaking wheel, and break their arms and legs - 14 Rdl., 800$

• For a body to be buried in the ground*³ - 3 Rdl., 172 $

• For a dead body to be removed from the town - 2 Rdl., 114 $

• For someone to be flayed and put on the wheel - 12 Rdl., 686 $

• For every pinch with burning tongs*⁴ - 2 Rdl., 114 $

• To brand - 4 Rdl., 229 $

• For flogging at the pillory - 5 Rdl., 286$

• To flog out of the city *⁵ - 4 Rdl., 229$

• To deport out of the city and the shire - 4 Rdl., 229$

• To burn a body *⁶ - 10 Rdl., 570$

• To write the perpetrators name on the gallows *⁷ - 2 Rdl., 114$

• To burn pasquinades or other similar things *⁸ - 3 Rdl., 172$

That’s it! At first it doesn’t seem too bad, huh? I mean, look at that paycheck! But upon further inspection, we can truly see how abhorred the handling of the dead (and soon to be) were. But well, i won’t take up anymore dashboard space for the uninterested, so further explanations, thoughts and info under the cut! 

Some facts on the “services”:

*  For a head and a hand to be put on a pole  - Putting the condemned’s right hand and/or head on poles, were of course used as a warning to show what would happen to whoever felt the urge to break the law. As is visible on the price however, this practice were usually reserved for cases were you really needed to prove a point - like if you had a traitor of the kingdom or an extra horrible criminal, not only would it be considered extra degrading having their rotting bodies on display, but people not making it to the execution might also get a chance to catch a glimpse of these special individuals! The poles would either welcome travelers outside the gates of the city, or outside the court.

*²  For someone to be put on the breaking wheel - The breaking wheel. You guys might be familiar with it, but it took the young me such a long time to grasp my head around. Because, it’s just a wheel. that’s it. That’s all there is to it. I was so angry as a kid at this. I read about all these gruesome creative torture devices, manufactured to inspire fear in even the most hardened of people! The chair of torture, the brazen bull, the Judas cradle, the iron maiden! AND LETS NOT FORGET WHEEL. you literally just strap a person to a wheel and break their limps with a big hammer. WHEEL IS NOT A CREATIVE COLOR.

*³ For a body to be buried in the ground - I’m not sure if this is supposed to be a living or dead body, on the next point [For a dead body to be removed from the town] it is pointed out that the body is dead. Either way, the burying of live bodies (with the victims head overground), were used as a method of torture. And for extra treatment, you would get honey and milk poured on you! - huh, sounds like something from a wellness brochure? Just wait ‘till all the bugs, worms, birds and critters starts pecking and gnawing your face!

*⁴ For every pinch with burning tongs - Now, it says pinch, but it should be understood as a pinch.. And a pull. Ripping the flesh off with scorching metal pliers - and a good place to start would be the armpits. cus, you know. try grabbing it. would be pretty easy to get a good chunk of skin off, right? uwaa..

*⁵ To flog out of the city - This was often combined with some other practices (many tortures were, i wonder if you had some 2 for 1 deals). But especially “adulteresses” would first be buried alive, then dug up, flogged at the pillory and then flogged out of the city. You wouldn’t go back after something like that.

*⁶ To burn a body - again, not stating whether this body is alive or dead, i can only imagine that - with a price like that - this would indeed be a living person. 

*⁷ To write the perpetrators name on the gallows - now, the meaning of this one can actually be explained pretty well with an old danish proverb “mit navn slaaet paa Galgen” which translated is “ My name put on the gallows “. If your name are put on the gallows - according to the proverb - people are saying bad things about you. And well, if people are walking past their local gallows and seeing “John Doe, child murderer, probably in league with the devil”, they might start to reconsider their friendships with the rest of the Doe household. And they might start to talk about Jane Doe, who has been acting weird lately. And who is to say that little John Doe Junior isn’t in fact the Antichrist? You get where i’m going? 

The schandbild/Pittura infamante - This is a good example of the degradation of being hanged and put on display - here together with their families coats of arms inverted. That’s some strong symbolism right there.

*⁸ To burn pasquinades or other similar things - this took me some research to figure out, because a pasquinade (paskville in Norwegian), is the hinge of a window frame in danish. And i had absolutely no idea how a small metal hinge could contain so much wretchedness and evil, that only an executioner could handle it. Well, a bit of research revealed that a pasquinade is in fact anonymous satiric writing that you would put up around town. It’s... medieval shit posts. And how many times haven’t you stumbled upon such anonymous internet writings and wished you could scorch them from the face of the earth? Still, this last one is just wonderful, looking at the price. Did the executioner have to walk around and collect these posts too? Or did he just fucking hate burning these stupid papers that much, feeling that it was definitely more exhausting than tearing off the flesh of a living being with hot tongs? Why couldn’t the court burn them? Were these papers really so unholy that only a condemned executioner could lay his hands on them? WHO KNOWS! I’m done with historical research for today, haha

  References and pictures:   Prices For calculating the prices in current money, i researched about a workers average pay now and then, and prices for bread and houses - we of course don’t use Rigsdaler anymore in Denmark or Norway (Norway were a part of Denmark at the time of Høcker, so we have the same coin), and i couldn’t find much info on what a Rigsdaler would be in our modern currency, so i had to do some math and research and calculations. And, well, i’m neither an historian, mathematician or economican (?), So the calculations are far from perfect, but they should somehow match up. I used the lowest prices that i acquired with my research, so he could in fact be earning much more, but still, it gives you an Idea. The reference sites are in danish!: http://www.thorshoj.dk/moenter_og_sedler.htm http://www.aros-innovation.dk/Stam/stam-2012-Opdelt/diverse/Rigsdaler.pdf

Pictures Header picture: Detail of Les Grandes Misères de la guerre, Plate 14 by  Jacques Callot, 1633

Heads on the breaking wheel, Copenhagen 1727, from the royal library. - i unfortunately can’t find the source

The hanged men, Schandbrief der Grafen von Schaumburg, Staatsarchiv Wolfenbüttel, unknown artist, 1541-42 

WELL, I congratulate everyone who’ve actually made it to the bottom of this wall of probably incredibly boring text, BUT HEY THANKS FOR READING!

[yulnabi]

10.18.2018

I. Professor Zakat!

A few days ago I met with an old friend: Professor Zakat!  The sight was both shocking and heartbreaking.  His state has deteriorated exponentially since the last time I saw him.  My only guess is that he had been spending all his energy trying to unlock the secrets within the artifact we recovered during the last mission we did together.

Our introductions were short.  I could tell his obsession had been single-minded and concentrating nearly entirely on the artifact.  For my part, I did not want to burden him with my odyssey, as he seemed to have plenty on his mind.

So, he informed me that he had looked at the artifact, and knew it contained the roadmap we were looking for.  However, he could not get into the specifics, and asked if I could provide some feedback from a tech point of view.  Of course, it is my focus, but I lack the experience or expertise to undertake such a task.  Thankfully, I have been speaking with my daughter, Guzel, and she came to mind.  I brought it up to the Professor, and he agreed to allow her to take a look at the artifact.  

The procedure was strange, as she did not have to be physically present to do so.  She took over my body temporarily, as I welcomed her into my mind.  Unsurprisingly for her, it took her a fraction of a second to find the information we had been looking for.  She then offered to record the roadmap in my body.  Apparently, the artifact contains a map to every single dimension. . .that is an infinite number of roads.  Guzel’s processing power is so vast, she was able to find the one we were looking for nearly instantly, and planted the contents of the artifact in me, highlighting the one that lead to the Qliphothic Realm.

After I came to, I told the Professor I had seen the way, but that I could not actually draw or describe it.  That left us with only one option, for him to fuse with consciousness temporarily so he could see the road himself.  He is the only one I know who can open a portal to the realm, and I was the only person he knew who could lead the way there.  So by fusing our consciousness, he would be able to get us into Qliphothic so we could complete our mission.

He was reluctant at first, saying that such a fusion would leave unforeseen and terrifying aftereffects. Nevertheless, we had no other choice and went ahead with the procedure anyways.  

It felt a lot longer than it actually was.  At some points I felt extreme pain and anguish, perhaps those he had been having to endure since being trapped in a different body.  I was able to see into his mind, almost live through him.  It was dark and horrible, and I saw things that were never meant to be seen or felt by foreign entities.  For my part, my body tried to railroad him into seeing the desired road, but I am sure he learned more about me that I would have ever wanted to share.  Whatever we learned about each other, we kept secret afterwards and did not really talk about it.

As soon as he had the information, we separated again.  He collapsed on the floor, while I felt unusual changes take effect in me.  Whatever it was made me feel different.  But I had no time to contemplate that, as I panicked when I saw him collapsed on the floor. Those were some moments of sheer panic. I tried desperately to heal him, but my healing had no effect on his body.  When I reached the point of despair, he suddenly came to, though I could feel even more of him had been lost, and his deterioration had continued.

Soon after he recovered somewhat, we proceeded to talk about the next steps.  With the map and knowing we were running out of time, he said it was time to start planning the assault of the Qliphothic Realm.  Our team has undergone changes, and we decided we should try to get more people to help us, as we have lost personnel to external reasons.

As we said our goodbyes, I decided not to bring up the uneasiness and strange sensations I was feeling.  I could feel something trying to change me from within and my body responding violently to the attempt, but that was something I would bring up with my daughter, Guzel.

II. My Body, My Bots

That afternoon, I went straight to Guzel.  The changes were strange, and I knew something was wrong.  

Guzel analyzed me closely, and determined that there was nothing wrong with my bots, that it was not a technical malfunction.  However, she did tell me I was a danger to the planet, and that she would provide me with equipment to keep me from setting the atmosphere of the planet ablaze.

I was shocked!  First, how she could say there was nothing wrong with the bots, but then mentioning them malfunctioning.  So, I urged her to explain to me.  She started by explaining the nature of our bodies.  We do not have brains, instead, each both of ours acts like a brain.  She described them as superbrains.  Instead of atoms, our bodies are made up of 7*10^27 organic nanobots.  Each of these produces 10^36 W/sec in energy, which means that each bot produces as much energy as an entire galaxy does each second.  The reason for this is because of the vast amounts of energy they are capable of storing.  As she detailed, that is why we know multiple cycles worth of history, which is why I had blackouts previously. . .it was my bots revealing our history to me.

She then said our ringworlds are especially designed to handle whatever energy production we are unable to control, but that outside them, we wear robes like the ones she always wears while in this time.  Guzel gave me some robes for me to use while I learn to control my energy production. She also modified my armors to serve the same purpose, basically remaking them with materials from the future, which made them lighter, more flexible, and also stronger.

As to my changes, she could only venture to say that it was some external energy trying to take control of my bots, but that these bots were so resilient as to resist that force. However, it would not stop the force from seeping some of the energy.  Furthermore, the energy seemed to strengthen or weaken according to my feelings.  Feeling of lust or passion would have one result, that of hatred a very different form of energy.  She asked me to keep from getting angry or sad, as uncontrolled, that could be lethal to a most living organisms.

III. Ace the Mage

The following day, I sought to find out what this force affecting me was.  Guzel, like me, is entirely devoted to science.  Whatever is affecting me is outside the realm of science, and thus, she can only help me try to contain it, not eradicate it.  This lead me to the mystic library.  While there, I stumbled upon Professor Zakat. 

As we began discussing the next steps, we overheard a nearby person who seemed troubled.  Upon first viewing, both of us assumed he was some sort of manimal mage.  He had the feet and tail of a wolf, the head of a horse, and the features of a third animal. 

We asked if he needed help, and thus we heard his tragic story.  He was no manimal, in fact he was human.  As mages tend to do, he was the curious and cocky type, so he tried to perform a spell above his capacity.  The result was his current form.  He was in the library looking for texts that my contain spells powerful enough to revert him to his human form. 

We sympathized with him, and offered to aid him.  The Professor mentioned we were preparing for a mission to the Qliphothic Realm.  Ace, the mage, posited that the realm was known for having lots of lost knowledge.  Catching on, both the Professor and I played up that aspect, eventually persuading him to want to accompany us.

The Professor then administered his test to determine whether he may be Petey, and after it came negative, he would proceeded to asses him further.  I had to leave, but it was knowing that the mage seemed reliable and willing to aid.

IV. Ethics Change

Since I have become closer and closer to Guzel, we have both been influencing each other.  She is starting to value individual lives more and more, realizing that sometimes empathy and compassion should trump her commitment to pure utilitarianism.  Always acting for the sakes of the greater good, without regard to individual concerns can be heartless and cruel.

On the other hand, she has shown me that too much empathy and compassion is just another form of selfishness.  That by falling prey to those emotions, we can sometimes cause irreparable harm to large numbers of people.  That close relationships to some will often blind us to the pain and suffering of those we do not know.  An extreme example is the family hiding from a death squad, when suddenly a child begins crying.  According to my views, it would be monstrous to do something to that child.  Guzel would differ.  She would insist that to save the whole, the child may need to be sacrificed.

Though I still find it appalling, I am finding some merit in what she says.  That is why I have begun doing whatever is necessary to achieve a positive outcome.  This includes lying and cheating when I think these will lead to a better result.  It is why I lied and misrepresented things to Ace when we were trying to talk him into joining us.  Surely saving Professor Zakat is the greater goal, and we must do whatever is necessary for it to happen.

V. Migos

It has been several weeks now since Migos and I formalized our relationship.  We are not boyfriend and girlfriend per say, but we are seeing each other.  He is everything I could ever want in a partner.  

At first he was reluctant to sleep with me, as he thought it would ruin our friendship.  I insisted however, almost begged, letting him know that this time, I really did want to be intimate with him.  Eventually we did, and at first it was just that—lust.  Over time, however, our relationship changed. He began asking me out on actual dates, he would buy me little gifts, and more than all, he would always remind me how beautiful I am.  He has been encouraging me to get my modeling agency going, he seems to almost worship me, calling me his ‘White Venus.’  

In his arms, I feel completely safe from everything and everyone.  He provides me a warmth I had never really felt.  I have come to realize that Osman merely provided me the illusion of warmth and protection, but that it was all for his ends.  Migos is different, he loves me for me, and sees me as an equal to him.  He does not seek to use me, he sees me as a partner.

In bed, he has shown and taken me places I never imagined!  Part of it is that he worships my body and my beauty like no one ever has before.  He seems to love every inch of my figure, and it just makes me feel so great and fulfilled.

VI. Mr. Mortame

I have also maintained a close relationship with Mr Mortame, owner of Mortame Industries.  Other than Migos, he has been the most supportive in encouraging me to get my agency going.  He also helped me get rid of that Qliphothic energy affecting me last time. For that I am thankful and promised him I would repay as soon as I could.

Like Migos, Mr Mortame seems to really enjoy my company, as he asks me out often.  I enjoy his too, as he has so much to teach me.  He is from an alien species that mixes technology and magic, creating strange and powerful hybrid instruments.  Needless to say, I find our talks fascinating, even those times where he suddenly shifts to talking about how beautiful I am.  Still, he is respectful of me, and insists he is merely being honest and telling me his honest opinion.