#maybe one day I'll actually scan my art again

[anniilaugh]

2 years worth of wild moss/seaweed overgrowth in salty sea air. Sanji malfunctions.

@uniquetosmbody had such a galaxy brain prompt in twitter and my samurai aesthetics loving brain inhaled the bait, hook and sinker immediately. : D Thanks for being an inspiration! <3

Reference under the cut~

/casually foams/ How dare this man de gozaru

[glo0b]

~Cooking With Love~

(I do not own the art or character)

Content: Sebek x F!Yuu, other ocs are in this and as well as the other first years.

Tw: Some NSFW mentions, this was meant to be a nice fluff cooking fic but my depraved mind can't stop

word count: 2081

note: This took me FOREVER. I kept stopping and continuing so it might not be the best.

“Oh look, the Culinary Crucible sign ups are out again, maybe I could sign up to be a judge.” The five Ramshackle residents were walking down the halls of NRC, heading off to lunch like usual until Felix pointed out the Culinary Crucible sign ups. “Nya, I nearly died last time from Lilia’s cooking” Grim sat on Yuu’s head, it was his favorite spot since her hair was so fluffy. “How did Silver survive all those years with him? Perhaps it made his stomach stronger, I should test that out later, Mumble Mumble” There Donnie went with his evil scientist thoughts again and pulling out his notebook with info about everyone in the school, honestly how could that boy not be best friends with Rook at this point.

Yuu picked up the small paper that was stapled to the cork board, she noticed two familiar names sketched in pen on the parchment. “Hm looks like Floyd and Sebek would be the ones cooking. You may want to reconsider that thought, Felix.” Yuu couldn’t lie, she was slightly excited to see what Floyd and Sebek could do but also terrified of what the food would turn into. She did know a bit of both of their skill sets too. “That damn Eel? Jeeze I already gotta deal with his ass in the Basketball club! I bet he’d poison the food if he could!” Balik groans at the thought of having to see that wicked eel’s face cook for her. “Oh hush! Hmm, maybe I should sign up to be a judge.” Yuu quickly pushed away her fearful thoughts and signed the paper. “If you get a stomach ache from their food don’t come crying to me, henchmen!”

The thought of Sebek cooking for her was on Yuu’s mind all day. She giggled softly and smiled at the thought which started to freak her friends out a bit. “Yuu has been a little too bubbly than usual.” Epel bit into his BBQ, finally able to enjoy it since Vil or Rook weren’t nearby. “I scanned Yuu earlier and her heart rate seems to be more elevated than normal!” Ortho spoke, not eating since he didn’t need food but he still could eat it in a way since Idia gave him a new update! “I couldn’t smell any potions on her breath or anything so it could be something mental.” Jack was clueless to what could have happened to their sweet friend. “Do you think someone cursed her!? I’ll get revenge for Yuu!” Deuce looked like he was about to punch someone. “Wha- no! Who could possibly want to hurt Yuu? Let’s just ask Yuu what happened when she grabs her food.” Finally Ace was actually using his head to think, which if they weren't worried about Yuu, would have freaked the group out even more. "Alright, I'll calm down." Yuu grabbed her food and made her way to the rest of the first years with the other four behind her. Yuu places her tray down and sits next to Ace. “Hello big sis-” Before poor Ortho could greet Yuu he was interrupted by a very concerned Deuce. “Are you ok!? Did someone curse you?! Did you finally snap!?” Ace face palms. “Real nice on staying calm, Deuce.” Yuu raises her brow in suspicion but keeps her sweet smile. “Oh? What’s this now?” The first year group looks back at each other before Epel speaks up. “We’re just concerned since you’ve been acting a little off today….” The other Ramshackle residents finally joined the first years. “That’s just because she’s excited about being a judge for the upcoming Culinary crucible.” Donnie sits next to Ortho while Balik, Felix, and Grim sit next to or across from Yuu. “Really, you aren't getting it? Here’s another hint, loud knight of Diasomnia.” Small ‘Oooohs’ escape the boys’ lips as Donnie explains the reason behind Yuu's state.

Yuu covers her face in embarrassment. “That’s…not the reason..” Balik stabs her food with her fork repeatedly. “Really? Jeeze I can’t tell which one of you is more dense.” Felix rubs the back of his neck nervously. “Yeah, I gotta agree with Balik here.” Ortho stands up- well floats off the ground in excitement. “Maybe we could get you two together! Big brother was playing a game with the same premise the other day!”. “I don’t think that would work. The only thing that guy seems to think about is Malleus just like the only thing Grim thinks about is fancy tuna.” Ace snickers as he looks over at Grim devouring a can of tuna in Yuu’s lap. “Nya?! Hey!” Yuu glares at Ace and he stops right away. “That’s a really sweet idea, Ortho, but I’m not sure it’s the best idea right now.” Ortho looks slightly disappointed but nods his head in understatement. “Ok big Sis! I’ll still make a plan though!” 

The first years continue to talk but soon lunch comes to an end. “Man, I got P.E next. I better go now so I can get changed.” Felix whines as he grabs his empty tray and leaves. Everyone else starts to get up as well and leave for their classes. Yuu holds Grim in her arms as she walks with Ace, Deuce, and Donnie. “Oooh~ We got Alchemy next” Donnie smirks knowing he’ll get an easy 100%. “Don’t act so smug just because you’ve got slightly better grades than us!” Grim kicks his little feet causing Donnie to laugh his unsettling clown-like laugh. “Slightly? Oh please, you’ve gotten Ds and Cs on every test from Professor Crewel!” Donnie’s smirk grows even bigger as he knows Grim can’t make a well backed up argument. hours pass and classes slowly finish up for the day. “Yawn I really wish P.E didn’t kick my ass.” Felix rubs his sore arms. “Maybe it’s just because you’re weak and have little muscle on your bones.” Felix glares at Balik. “Be quiet, will you! You’re hurting my ears!” Grim interrupts their arguing before it could get any more heated. The two glare at each other before shutting up. “Hey, isn't the Culinary Crucible supposed to start tomorrow?” Donnie quickly changes the subject to make sure Balik and Felix don’t start arguing again. “Huh? Oh, yeah. It’s meant to be taking place before lunch, I think.”. Grim pouts. “Why can’t I get free food too! No fair!” Yuu giggles at Grim’s whines. The five reach their dorm and soon settle in for the night awaiting the brand new day full of opportunities to come. A certain half fae walks past the school cork board covered in flyers for clubs and what not, he looks down at the Culinary Crucible sheet. “So she has signed up to be a judge….I’LL DO MORE THAN MY VERY BEST FOR BOTH THE YOUNG MASTER AND YUU!” Sebek hurries his way back to Diasomnia so he can return to his job of guarding Malleus.

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Morning comes without fail, birds chirp on cue as the sun rises with its natural beauty. Sebek was out doing his morning jogs before he had to head off to the Culinary Crucible. Sebek had originally signed up so he could learn to cook for his liege but when he found out Yuu was going to be one of the judges he felt even more determined to master the practice of the culinary arts. ‘I have to be able to cook for my future partner!’ That’s what the little voice in his head kept telling him plus Lilia said a good boyfriend should be able to cook for his partner when they’re sick or tired. Sebek finishes his morning jogs and heads inside of Diasomnia to wash off all the sweat on his body. As the cold water hits his body he thinks about how the Culinary Crucible could possibly go. He did learn a bit from Yuu when all the first years were at Ramshackle for a studie night which somehow turned into a small party. Sebek couldn’t help but blush when he remembered how Yuu’s soft hands guided him on how to cut an onion or when he burnt most of the vegetables Yuu just simple laughed it off with a reassuring smile. “How could a human like that make me feel like this….”. Oh Yuu’s soft hands, he just can’t stop thinking about them. All he wants is to have them trail along his body and wrap around his hard- “I must stop thinking about such things of Yuu! I need to get ready!” 

Sebek finishes his shower and gets dressed but not before gelling up his hair like he always does. This man went through almost two jars of gel each week, if Sam didn’t somehow magically have everything in stock Sebek would have been stuck with his natural hair. Sebek quickly checks the time. “On time as always.” And with that Sebek leaves to head off to the Culinary Crucible.

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All of Ramshackle’s (living) residents were sitting in the courtyard talking. It was their free time before lunch so Donnie started making bets “Ok, 10$ says Sebek burns it to ash.” Donnie rolls his eyes at Felix’s bet. “Oh please, he’s not Lilia. Althouuuugh, 5$ says he makes it too dry or too bland to eat.” Yuu couldn’t help but laugh “Wow, you really don’t have faith in him? How about 100$ says Sebek makes something that I’ll enjoy.” Both Felix and Donnie’s eyes widen “Henchman, are you feeling ok!?” Even Grim and Balik looked shocked “Yuu is making bets?!” Balik dropped her cool guy act from pure shock. “We don’t even have that kind of money! Crowley doesn’t pay us shit!” Yuu smirks at Donnie’s comment and shrugs her shoulders. “Well~ I just have a lot of faith in Sebek, I guess. Plus I should probably join in on the fun shouldn’t I?” “I guess you do seem to like him a lot.” Balik plainly states. “Seems?? Those two are head over heels for each other!” Donnie throws his arms up in the air in frustration. “We’ll just have to wait and see who the winner of the bet is.” Yuu smiles knowingly. “Nya, I’m going to buy so much tuna with this bet!” Donnie rolls his eyes at Grim’s gluttonous statement before looking down at his watch “Looks like we only have a few minutes till next period.” Everyone lets out a small groan before saying their goodbyes and parting for their next classes. ==============================================

Yuu sat comfortable in the judge’s chair with Idia to her left and Trey to her right. Sebek set a bowl full of chicken pho before her with shaky hands. He looked so nervous, which seemed so unlike him. Once Idia and Trey also reserved a bowl of the chicken pho Yuu took a small spoon full. She looked up at the nervous half fae man in front of her and put the spoon to her lips…..Woah! The chicken had a melt in your mouth texture and the broth was so flavorful! Yuu’s eyes opened in shock as she let out a small moan from the amazing dish. After the other two finished it was time for the results. Yuu was so proud of Sebek, he obviously worked super hard on the dish. Yuu happily held up the sign that had the number ten written on it. “Amazing~! I loved it!”. Trey held up a ten sign as well while Idia held up a nine sign. A big grin spread across Sebek’s face as he saw the high ranking signs, he quickly bowed. “Thank you!”  ================================================

“WHAT!?” Like they planned this Felix, Balik, Donnie, and Grim all yelled in unison. “But how!?” Donnie was still in disbelief, how did Sebek do such a good job!? “My tuuuuuuuna!” Grim whined as his dreams of buying tuna with the bet money went down the drain. “Oh hush, I’ll buy you some tuna.” Grim’s ears pop up at the mention of Yuu buying him tuna. “I guess you get the money then.” Felix lets out a sigh before handing Yuu the money. “Thank you! Now remember next time not to test my intuition~” Yuu chuckled to herself. “Yeah, yeah, whatever and maybe next time we can get to taste this ‘amazing food’.” Balik still doubted Sebek of all people could cook such a good meal. “Yeah maybe…..” Yuu remembered the creamy, rich broth and melt in your mouth chicken, maybe she would have to cook for Sebek some time? Maybe a cooking date? Who knows, there’s so much time in life when you cook with love~!

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You have made it! Thank you for reading! I hope you liked it, it took me VERY long to make this. Mental health didn't help much lol. Make sure to get plenty of rest and to drink water dear reader!

[acutiewithagun]

Well, okay then! Just can I ask that you do this one after everyone else’s who requested before me? I don’t want to end up preventing other’s from getting their request :)

Can I request another for the yandere delusional rottmnt turtles? I was thinking about a prequel to the other one. Maybe when m/c is being kidnapped for the first time or begins to notice the delusions the turtles have? I just wanna see m/c come to the realization that the turtles are delusional, then promptly get kidnapped when they try to either correct the delusions or break ties with the turtles.

(An evil smile appeared on my face when I read this lovely prompt.)

Taglist: @oleander-nin

Changes in friends, maybe?

You didn't have much to do in your prison they called a bedroom. So recalling where everything went wrong is as good as any to fill up your time.

When you first stumbled upon them, they completely froze in shock. No explanation or apparent reason, just stopped everything they were doing. No more speaking, moving, or even breathing. April assured you they weren't normally like that, but you were still sceptical.

It only went down hill from there. The four turtles tried their best to act normal. But only Mikey and Leo actually accomplished this fully. They were all so nice, you trusted them. Mikey would teach you different art tricks and recipes. Leo would suggest different comics and skateboard tricks to try even if you weren't interested. Raph started training you and showing off his stuffies. And Donnie was just a tech wizard and a dance machine.

Time with them was never boring and always fun. The four ninjas were a bit different than April described them as, but it was so small you didn't pay much attention. But slowly and surely, they began becoming more pushy, more obsessive. They would insist you spend the night whenever you visited, extending the stay as long as they could. They became more secretive, whispering even when they thought you weren't around.

The brothers each had a special... thing, to make you trust them more. Leo would casually talk about a friend of yours being toxic or beg you to do anything. Donnie kept you in long rants you felt rude interrupting to leave. Raph would worry endlessly about your safety, making you stay. And Mikey would trap you in bear hugs as well as use puppy dog eyes.

The day everything went wrong was awful. You had finally convinced them to bring you on a short patrol. It wasn't meant to be dangerous and just a quick outing with friends. They agreed and took you along for the adventure.

"So, what are the rules for today?" Raph had his arms crossed as he stared at you. "Follow instructions, stay with one of you guys, and don't get hurt." The brothers all smiled and loaded into the Turtle Tank. You acquired your own seat in the vehicle due to Donnie overreacting when you tried to use Uber to get home. So you settled into the seat and enjoyed the considerably smooth drive.

Once at the location, you were ushered out of the vehicle and onto the pavement. "Alright, who's gonna watch over our buddy here?" Mikey immediately beamed and hugged you tightly. "Me, me, me! I'll make sure no harm comes to them!" Raph gave a nod of approval then started a scan of the area alongside Leo and Donnie.

You and Mikey stayed near the back, which seemed like a pretty safe choice at the time. And it was, for about twenty minutes.

Mikey suddenly pushed you to the ground as a metal ring came flying overhead. Everything happened so fast, fighting and yelling. They were so focused on defending you they kept making mistakes.

You were constantly being thrown and shoved around to avoid attacks. Eventually they got you hidden inside a nearby alleyway. You could only watch as they fought the hippo mutant. It was a long and weary battle that you could do nothing to help with.

"Never even think of hurting our siblin' again!" You flinched as you heard Raph suddenly yell. Sibling? Which one of the guys was he refusing to? Your answers got answered a second later. "Oh, that human I saw accompanying you turtles? Don't you think you're a bit delusional calling them your sibling?"

You froze in place at the villain's words. All senses were dulled as you tried to wrap your head around it. When had it started? Why didn't you notice? No you knew for a while, you just blinded yourself in hopes of new friends.

A hand landed on your shoulder with muted words filling your ears, pulling you out of your thoughts. You looked back and saw Mikey with a worried expression as his hand rested on your shoulder. The rest of the brothers were all there, showcasing their own versions of concerned looks.

"You ok? We've been calling your name for five minutes." You nod and start walking past them. "Um yeah, just fine. I got caught up in my own thoughts. I'll be going home now." You try to walk away but Mikey pulled you back.

"Why don't you come back with us? We were gonna do pizza and a Jupiter Jim marathon." You shake your head to Leo's suggestion and try to push Mikey's hand off. "No, I haven't been home enough and everyone is getting worried." The box turtle's hand tightens on your shoulder. "C'mon... Just one more night... Please?" He started giving you puppy dog eyes as all the boys joined in.

You shake your and pull away, stumbling back slightly. "I can't, this isn't healthy, we need space." Their demeanor changed slightly as you felt an inch creep up your spine. "Isn't healthy? Of course it is, we just want to spend time with you." You pressed on past the spiny softshell's words. "No, I heard what that hippo guy said. You think I'm your sibling, I've been denying it for too long but you guys are delusional. I have my own family, a life where I'm not related to you."

Silence filled the alleyway as you glanced to the exit. You sigh and look at the ground. "Let's... just take a break. I'll talk to you guys when I feel like-" "Nope." You looked up in shock at the word, the tension filling the alleyway.

You gasp as you gaze at your friends, staring down at you coldly. You start backing up slowly out of instinct.

Then everything happened just as quickly as the battle that happened minutes ago.

Everything felt like it fell into slow motion as you turned around and started running. A metal claw grabbing your left wrist, golden orange chains wrapped around your right ankle, a blue portal appearing in front of you, and a red hand waiting for you as you fling backwards.

You wriggle around as Donnie retracted his metal arms into his battle shell. Mikey grabbed your face to face him as Leo stands in your peripheral vision. Raph kept you in place as you squirmed in his ninpo's grip.

"Hold them still for a moment." Mikey nodded as he forced your head still, taking away the one place you could move. A sharp jab pierces the back of your neck as you jerk in response. "When you wake up we'll have so many sleepovers!" Mikey smiled brightly as he squished your cheeks. "Ah yes, many movies and memories are to be had."

"And we'll play so many video games, you're gonna get sick." Leo grabbed one of your arms as the red hand of ninpo disappeared. Raph hugged your waist as he lifted you up, your body limply dangling as ringing started in your ears. "And we'll take such good care of you, you'll never have to leave us again."

Your eyes shut against your fight and everything started to fade. Muffled sounds surrounded you before your brain was consumed by darkness.

[hotwaterandmilk]

Our household suffered a loss over the Christmas period, so I'm going to post some random comments about stupid shit to help divert my focus away from being depressed.

New BLOOD+ Anthology!

I received my copy of this year's BLOOD+ Petit Event Anthology this week. The title of this year's volume is "Season Calls Me" and like, the previous anthology, it contains a solid mix of short comics and novels by the small band of active Japanese fandom members for the series.

There are a couple of great little comics (that actually feature my faves, surprisingly) plus, like last time, Fujisaku Jun'ichi and Ishii Akiharu participated as well so we got some great additional content that makes it worth the effort of BUYING RIGHT NOW. What do I mean by this? Brand new colour illustrations from Ishii again, baby!

David smiling is so awkward, I love it. Ishii you have truly blessed us.

I won't be scanning in these images because this is a brand new publication. I ask that you please support all the wonderful fans involved in this doujinshi and purchase your own copy before it sells out.

Kotobuki Tsukasa draws ADG art again!

Kotobuki Tsukasa drew a new version of his Aphrodite illustration that was used for the first Akihabara Dennou Gumi ED sequence. The pic will be featured on his Comiket postcard for this year (2023 is the 25th anniversary of ADG) and I reeeeeaaaaaally want it. Edit: He just posted, it's limited to 127 units & has asked people not to resell so there goes my chance lol. :(

Kotobuki doesn't have the original image anymore so he had to use an online pic as reference and honestly, I think it looks pretty great even without the full studio finish (I particularly love that he incorporated Hibari's expression into Aphrodite as this is the fusion version from the movie).

大切なものなんですか... (it's stuck in your head now, watch here)

In a comment to someone mentioning the possibility of an art book he did say he'd discussed it but it hadn't progressed further. Please, for the love of god, I need an art book to happen! I WOULD PREORDER THE SHIT OUT OF THAT! I just love my '90s anime girls with faces like half-sucked mangos that much, ok?!

I Have an Autographed Yamamoto Yohko Novel!

Honestly this isn't a huge deal, back when the novel series received a kanzenban release Shouji Takashi autographed a lot of books for fans and they surface again every so often for sale. I happened to score one and now I have his autograph.

I'm not a big autograph person, but because the series was canned in 2001-ish the 12th kanzenban volume is the only way to get Shouji's conclusion to the story so I figured two birds with one stone and all that (not that I can read anything these days).

Anyway, it's nice to have. Maybe one of these days I'll work on my TBR pile.

I had actually planned to spend my few days off over the New Year catching up on things, then everything kind of just went to shit. So instead of me achieving anything you get this post of random nonsense while I struggle to process my grief, sorry.

[cafalla]

Vintage Pokémon Stickers and Temporary Tattoos (1999-2000)

I finally took the time to tackle my little pile of vintage Pokémon stickers and temporary tattoos! It's not a crazy amount, but there was enough to make me consistently go "hmm, maybe I'll scan them tomorrow".

Thing is, I have a whole box of magazines I still want to scan...and some catalogs...there is a lot still in the works where scanning is concerned.

This little pile of Pokémon stickers have been next on my to-scan list for a while. I felt it was time to finally get on it. I'm really excited to show them off!

I love all Pokémon, and I wouldn't call myself a die-hard Gen 1 fanatic but...there is really something nostalgically special about Gen 1. I just love Pokémon a lot, especially Gen 1, and I always will.

I'm very happy to have these vintage stickers/temporary tattoos and I hope to get many more in the future!

First off, here are a couple of temporary tattoo sheets! I know they're not stickers, but they basically look like sticker sheets...at least they're equally as cool. These are from 1999!

Each came in its own single-sheet package. These photos are actually the scans flipped, so originally, they are backwards.

Because, y'know, that's how temporary tattoos work.

But for the sake of viewing the artwork, I flipped them so they are facing the "correct way" towards us.

My favorite one is Pikachu holding his Pokeball...to be honest, I totally forgot Pikachu actually has his own ball! And that it has a little lightning bolt on it. So cute. I wish we got to see it more often.

I mean, how cool would it be to get a lightning bolt ball in the games and you could ONLY catch a Pikachu with it. That'd be fun.

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Next are some "super-size" sticker sets. Each set comes with two sticker sheets. These are also from 1999!

Here's the first set:

The weird swirly colored backgrounds feel sooooo 90s to me!

Next set:

Love the big Blastoise sticker. I imagine there are sets including big solo stickers of Charizard and Venusaur, too. Hopefully one day I can get my hands on them!

And the last set I have is this one:

Well, there is Charizard at least! Not a full sized solo sticker, but it's quite large. Super cool!

And the sticker of the main gang is so cute. I vividly remember that art of them featured in a lot of merchandise. We'll see them again with the next stickers, actually.

I do wonder if the white space in between Brock's bent arm was an oversight...there is also some white between Misty's neck and arm. Oops, lol!

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Next I have some giant Pokémon gift tag stickers from 2000!

I originally thought they were Christmas gift tag stickers, but I think they're for any gift-giving occasion. There are 15 sticker tags in the package, containing the three designs shown above.

There's that art of the gang again! I told you we'd be seeing them again lol.

And I vividly remember that Pikachu art on a lot of my childhood merchandise. I love the OG Pikachu.

I mean, Pikachu is great in any form, but like I said earlier, the original art just hits differently. I'm way too nostalgic for Gen 1 haha. Maybe I actually am a die-hard Gen 1 fanatic...

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Last, but certainly not least, we have this sticker book containing all 150 original Pokémon. It's from 1999, and barely hanging on by a couple of old staples. I had to be super careful scanning this book - I was afraid of it ripping apart.

Here's the cover:

The book's format is basically a page of stickers, and then the page opposite of the stickers contains a blank space with a pokeball graphic and the names of the Pokémon. The intention is to move the stickers over to the blank space with the Pokémon's name once you catch them in game, so you can keep track of which ones you've collected along your Pokémon journey.

I'll just be showing off the sticker pages, but you can look at the full book on my Internet Archive account to see what I'm talking about. There's also a cute little Pokémon word search in the middle of the book I recommend checking out.

Here are all 150 original Pokémon stickers!

So cool, right?!

Most of the artwork is pretty standard, but some of the Pokémon really get to show some personality! Specifically Dugtrio and Electrode.

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I really like how old Pokémon merchandise gave many "obscure" Pokémon a chance to shine.

Obviously Pikachu and the main line starters get heavily featured in merchandise...but I feel like most Pokémon in recent years don't get a chance to be promoted like they used to in the early stages of the series.

Typically only the fan favorites get to shine anymore. It's sad, because there are so many neat Pokémon! Every Pokémon is special to someone, and it's nice to see them represented across merchandise.

I hope you enjoyed these scans! You can view full size/hi-quality scans on my Internet Archive account.

Or, if you would rather reblog the photos by themselves, I've uploaded them onto my photoblog: nostalgiahime. So feel free to go take a look over there!

Thanks for reading!

[raeflora]

you're supposed to care (but you never make me scream)

[blair wants to try something new in bed with chuck- I mean dan, definitely dan... aka the only time I'll ever write dair, set between 5x20 and 5x21 ♡ rated e]

If Blair were to be entirely honest with herself, which is a rarity as of late, she enjoys sex. The intimacy of it, the overwhelming pleasure, the way she can spend hours and hours in bed and not get tired of it. Finding what you adore and what you don't, getting to discover parts of yourself you never knew about. Doing all of it with someone you love and trust and know so intimately. It makes her heart flutter.

Not that she's experienced any of that lately, of course.

Her relationship with Dan is fine. They talk about art and cinema and books, which is pleasant enough. He stays overnight at her penthouse sometimes, and gets so into talking about whatever pretentious movie he just saw that often he forgets there are other things you can do in bed beside talk. Sometimes, she does too. Their foray into drunken elevator sex, and then even more drunken alleyway sex, convinced her that somewhere deep, deep, inside Dan Humphrey might be ok in bed. She just hadn't experienced it very much.

Experience. That's the word that swims around in her head as she waves Dan off that morning for another day of whatever it is that he does. She just has so much more sexual experience to draw from. Brushing past Dorota she declares that she will spend the day doing important research, and that she's not to be disturbed. After all, this is definitely the most productive way to spend her day. Definitely.

She retrieves her diaries from the end of her bed, gratefully noting that they're so easy to access. Turning to the ones she knows are from 2009 to 2010 she begins flipping through the first, pausing on an entry partway through.

June 20th 2009. Tonight I went out for dinner with Chuck. It was... exhilarating. He took me to a private dining lounge where we were completely secluded from everyone else, which, aside from being so romantic, was also so arousing. Naturally Chuck felt the same. He didn't even wait until the waiter had left the room before his fingers were on me, making me burn for him. When he moved them up into me I thought I was going to scream. Maybe I did. I couldn't focus on anything but Chuck.

Blair frowns, ignoring the heat in her cheeks. Being fingered in a restaurant was incredible, but Dan doesn't like expensive restaurants, and she doesn't really want to take him to any. Or have his fingers anywhere near the inside of her La Perlas. She continues her search, stopping again near the end of this diary.

September 18th 2009. We had breakfast with my mother this morning. I know Chuck would never say it, but I think he likes the domesticity of it. Truthfully, I think my mother does as well. She's taken to Chuck better than I expected, and I think she's actually happy for me. Well, happier than when she walked in on him going down on me at breakfast during the summer at least. After we ate Chuck and I bathed together. And had sex. It was wonderful. We've had sex in his bath and shower at the Palace, so it's not like it was entirely unfamiliar. At least it made going to NYU today more bearable, plus Chuck said he'd have a surprise waiting for me tonight. I can't wait.

Blair huffs, tossing the diary aside, still ignoring how warm her face is. There's no way she can have sex in the bath with Dan, she doesn't think his apartment even has a shower, and there's no way they're doing it here, her bath is simply too small for the first attempt. Scowling, she picks up another diary, not bothering to check the year, and begins scanning the pages for anything useful. She stops.

February 2nd 2010. "Whatever our souls are made of, his and mine are the same" I'm writing this as Chuck is asleep next to me, my brooding Heathcliff is apparently easier to tire than I thought. He deserves his rest though, tonight was our first escape from reality for a while and I know he needs it. I've been asking if we can play Wuthering Heights for weeks, and he finally agreed. It was everything I dreamed and more. Chuck was everything I dreamed and more. Hearing him quoting Brontë by heart was the most arousing and intoxicating experience, although I know his copy is just as well-read as mine. The way he made love to me was intense but still so caring. Still Chuck, but also different. It doesn't matter whose names we use in the end, because he will always be my Chuck. Always. "I have to remind myself to breathe- almost to remind my heart to beat"

Blair hums, a smile blooming onto her lips as she snaps the diary shut. Roleplay! Of course! It's the perfect way to mix fantasy with reality, and hopefully get Dan somewhere near satisfying her. He's always talking about how he's an intellectual and how similar their tastes in books are, so this should be something he can do. She sets her diaries down next to her current one, and begins to plot.

Obviously, there are her favourite books to choose from. Anna Karenina. Wuthering Heights. Pride and Prejudice. Or Shakespeare plays, she's always been partial to Much Ado About Nothing. Something about Beatrice and Benedick just gets her really turned on. She's sure that Dan will be able to quote at least one of them with all his literary prowess. Actually, before she can plan any further she should probably check. After all, she needs to know what outfits to get. She picks up her phone and dials him, already starting to look through her closet. He picks up surprisingly quickly.

"Dan hi" she coos, fingers running over purple velvet "I hope I'm not interrupting you"

"No of course not. Actually I was just about to-"

She cuts him off "great!" There was something I wanted to ask you. Would you be interested in playing with me tonight?"

"Play like- like Scrabble or something? I thought you hated boardgames"

She sighs "no, Dan. Play with me like roleplay with me. Sexually"

There's silence for a moment before he speaks again "oh, uh, sure. I guess- I've never really, um, what did you have in mind?"

"How about Jane Austen?" she chirps

"I'm not really an Austen fan, y'know? There's a lot of, uh, brooding and it's just not really my thing"

She tries not to sound too disappointed "oh ok. Then how about something by the Brontë sisters?"

"Again it's, uh, doesn't Rochester go blind? I'm not sure that's exactly erotic"

"Alright" she tries to keep her voice even "how about you come over and I surprise you?"

"Yeah that, uh, sounds fun. Look, I need to go but I'll see you tonight"

"See you tonight" she sighs "bye"

Blair groans, flopping down onto the couch in her closet. Rochester going blind can be erotic thank you very much. Once, with Chuck, she blindfolded him and had him navigate her body entirely through touch. He made her orgasm over and over again. It was beautiful. Anyway, where was she? Ah yes. Dan. She can still make this work, she tells herself. Roleplay doesn't have to be specific characters, it can simply be a theme or an idea. There must be some fantasy she wants Dan to play out that he would never think of himself. There just has to be.

Wait, that's it!

She can turn Dan into a hygienic, rich, sexy, amazing in bed, hygienic, passionate, did she mention hygienic, man for one night. He'd never think of that. And she knows just how to do it. Time to get to work.

Blair hums idly to herself as she goes around her room that evening, lighting candles and making sure everything looks perfect. It does, naturally. She just hopes that Dan actually appreciates her efforts this time. Her outfit is all ready, hidden under the long green silk robe she doesn't actually remember buying that somehow found its way into her closet. It must have been a gift.

Her outfit and accessories for Dan are spread across her bed. Now she just needs him. She's not entirely sure what's taking him so long, given that neither of them exactly have jobs right now. Well, technically, Dan's a writer. She always forgets. Maybe he's writing something and that's why he's late. Maybe she'll make him roleplay as someone punctual next time.

"Blair it's me" Dan's voice cuts through her thoughts from the other side of the door "can I come in?"

She gives her bed one last look over "of course. Come on in..."

Dan steps in cautiously, as if he expects her to pounce on him. Please. She still has some dignity. She watches as he takes in the candles and chilling champagne, until his eyes land on the clothes spread out over her duvet and the black bag next to them.

"Don't be nervous" she coos, wondering when she started to sound like a dove, "you'll enjoy what I've got planned. I promise"

"I'm uh- wow, I wasn't expecting to have to get changed"

"It's roleplay, Dan. You can't exactly fulfill your wildest fantasies in the clothes you've been wearing all day" she finishes by playfully tugging his shirt.

"I guess not. So what wild fantasy-" he gestures his arms around, in a way Blair assumes is meant to be sexy, as he starts to unbutton his collar "are we fulfilling tonight?"

Blair smiles coyly "you'll be a hot, well-groomed, hygienic, rich young professional and I'll be your latest conquest. Do you like it?"

"Yeah, but why did you emphasise hygienic?"

"What do you mean?" Blair frowns.

"You said hot, well-groomed and hygienic-"

"And rich"

"Of course. But uh, why is hygienic in there?"

"Because it's a fantasy Dan" Blair explains slowly, patience dwindling " it's not meant to be like real life"

Dan frowns, making his face look like a confused chihuahua, "I'm hygienic Blair"

"Mm-hmm. Anyway do you want to see your outfit?"

She claps, spinning around to lift up the garment bag. Dan takes it apprehensively, clearly trying to feel what's inside.

"Go and put it on. When you're done there are a few finishing touches I need to do to you and then we can start"

She pushes him into her bathroom, and sits back on her bed to wait. She never really had to wait for Chuck, she realises before she can stop herself. They would get changed together, already halfway in character, or they would both turn up ready. They never wanted to waste a second on awkwardness or waiting. Unlike Dan, apparently.

He finally emerges, clad in a Dolce & Gabbana suit, Turnbull & Asser shirt and bowtie, and Bottega shoes. Blair grins, beckoning him over. He looks uncomfortable up close, but ironically he's never looked better. She spritzes him with Dior's Fahrenheit cologne, inhaling the familiar woody and Sicilian mandarin scent. Perfect.

"Blair" he starts, frown creasing between his eyebrows "I look like Chuck"

She almost laughs "what?"

"I look" he gestures up and down himself "like Chuck Bass"

"No you don't" she protests, pushing his still too long hair back and discreetly wiping her hand on her robe to rid herself of his hair's seemingly permanent oiliness.

"I'm wearing a bowtie"

"That's just how rich, hygienic men dress Hu- Dan"

"It just feels like maybe you want to have sex with Chuck and not me. Are you sure you weren't thinking of him when you put this fantasy together"

"Don't be stupid, I haven't thought about Chuck in forever" she retorts, carefully avoiding mentioning that she's thought of Chuck approximately 78 times today, which is fewer than yesterday she'll have you know.

"Really?"

"Of course" she soothes, toying with the tie of her robe "besides, don't you want to see what I'm wearing?"

He smiles stupidly, reaching for her robe himself. She rapidly drops it before he can get there. No need to have him in character just yet. Her soft lilac Agent Provocateur bra pushes her breasts up in a way she never felt was necessary until starting this romance with Dan, the matching delicate panties half hidden beneath the lace garter belt holding up her stockings. She gazes up at him, eyelashes fluttering.

"Do you like it?" she asks softly.

"Uh yeah. You- you look great"

"Just great?" she prompts.

He pauses briefly, considering his words "really great. You look really great" is what he settles on.

Blair plasters on a smile before moving the bag with the Fahrenheit cologne in. Showtime.

"So what do you want our scenario to be?" she asks, coming to sit on the bed.

"Scenario?" Dan echoes.

"You know, you're a rich professional, I'm your latest conquest, is this our first time, are we at your place or mine, how did we get here? Also, how many rounds do we go, are you dominant or submissive, do we need a safe word? Come on, you should be good at this" she encourages.

"Dominant or- wow uh," he murmurs "well, it's our first time and, uh, we're at your place. Our relationship was meant to be strictly professional until our explosive chemistry left us needing to take it into the bedroom. How's that so far?"

Blair refrains from commenting on the explosive chemistry line "good, good, keep going"

"Uh, we go until you tell me to stop. And our safe word is-um-" he looks around the room, eyes landing on Blair's shelves "cabbage"

"Like... my doll?"

"Yeah. I thought safe words were meant to be stupid things you wouldn't say during sex"

Her safe word with Chuck was either stop, red, or "I have not the pleasure of understanding you" from Pride and Prejudice if they were feeling dramatic. They often were. Saying something stupid feels wrong somehow. Ordinary.

Blair's smile doesn't reach her eyes as she speaks "good. Well now that's all clear shall we begin? How do you want me?"

Dan awkwardly positions her on her back, her hands lamely at her sides. It'll improve, she thinks, once they get going. Once her fantasy can begin.

"We shouldn't be doing this" Dan starts, his voice strangely low, and Blair realises that he's trying to act, "after all, what would everyone say?"

"But I want to. I want you" comes out stronger than she intended, her fantasy already beginning in her mind, "I want to know what it's like to be in the arms of a man like you"

"Oh you do? Well tell me what you want"

"Touch me"

Blair shuts her eyes, and lets her own fantasy take over.

Chuck's hands are warm on her, sliding up and down her sides, teasing her, making her want more before they've even really begun. His fingers trace the thin band of her bra, not yet dipping under but the promise of it is there. She can feel it. He gently runs his palm down her taut stomach, long fingers gliding effortlessly over her skin until he reaches her thighs, quickly snapping each stocking away from the garter belt, making her hips arch up off of the bed in search for more.

"Not yet" he husks from somewhere above her "I'm going to make you work harder than that, baby"

She complies, pouting just to tease him. His hands are back at her bra, softly cupping her breasts through the thin silk. Then, they are back on her sides, his own way of teasing her. His breath is deliciously warm on her neck as he kisses her there, his familiar scent curling into her nostrils. His kisses are slow, deliberately placed up and down her neck, her shoulders, her collarbone. It is exquisite. It is torture. It is Chuck.

Except.

Except it's not. Chuck's hands do not press too hard against her ribs but too gently at her waist. Chuck's fingers are not as slender as the ones pulling uselessly at her garter belt. Chuck's kisses on her neck are not sloppy or too soft. Blair opens her eyes. Reality hits her like a Nate Archibald punch to the face.

It is Dan's hands that are too hard, too gentle. It is Dan's slender fingers that are tugging pathetically at her garter belt. It is Dan's kisses on her neck that are too sloppy, too soft. Blair pulls away.

"I think it's a little late to play hard to get baby" Dan drawls, and she nearly shoves him out of her bed for daring to talk to her like that.

"I- don't call me tha- stop" she tries, too caught up in her own fantasy to remember what theirs is meant to be.

"Huh?" is Dan's eloquent reply.

She huffs, unable to prevent her eyes from rolling as she speaks "Cabbage, Dan. Cabbage"

His eyes grow wide "oh sorry, are you ok? Was that- was that too much? Do you want me to go slower?"

She wants him to go out the door, but that's not what she says, "I just need a minute" is what she decides on instead "I don't think this is working"

"Of course, I'm so sorry" he lies down next to her, "we can change position if you want. Or I can try literature? Uh, whatever souls are made of his and mine are the same and all that"

"Our souls" Blair corrects automatically "it's our souls"

"Oh yeah, sure. So, do you want to try again?"

Blair pauses. Does she? Tonight was meant to be a fantasy, but she feels closer to reality than she has for months.

"Alright" comes out of her mouth, surprising even her, "let's try it again"

Dan grins, climbing back on top of her. This time she reaches up to unbutton his shirt, her eyes closing instinctively.

The silk of Chuck's bowtie slides easily between her fingers, before she tosses it into the darkness, following quickly with his shirt. He slides her bra off in return, head dipping to kiss between her breasts. She gasps softly as he descends down her body, kissing teasingly above the band of her La Perlas. He tugs at them playfully with his teeth, hands sneaking back up her body to cup her breasts, his thumbs stroking her nipples.

"Chuck, oh God-" she moans, one hand twisting into the sheets, the other into his hair "don't stop-!"

"Never" he whispers hotly against her now bare, slick skin, La Perlas somewhere down her thighs.

She bucks up to meet his mouth, and this time he doesn't deny her anything. She cries out, completely uncaring of who may hear. Her hand holds his head but he doesn't need any help. He knows her. She's all his. Her palm runs down to his back, nails sinking into his skin. All that thrums through her body is Chuck, Chuck, Chuck. It is just her and him. Chuck and Blair. Blair and Chuck.

Except.

Except where she should be feeling softness there is hardness. What should be smooth under her fingertips is sharp. Where there should be warmth there is cold. Blair's eyes snap open.

Above her Dan pulls awkwardly at the bowtie, confusion evident in his face. Blair's own fingers are still on his unbuttoned shirt, just grazing his too cool skin, as she tries to make sense of what's happening. He tosses the bowtie aside, then turns his gaze down to Blair's panties. She frowns, kicking her foot out at him slightly. He still reaches his hand out towards her.

"Uh, hey-" she starts, trying to think of how to finish this.

"Oh do you want to play some more, baby?" he says in a tone Blair can only describe as the the least sexy thing she's ever heard, and she resists the urge to kick him again.

"Cabbage" she says through gritted teeth, "Cabbage"

"Oh- sorry, sorry" he puts his hand on her face, "are you ok?"

"I-" Blair sighs, shifting pointedly away from his hand, "I just think the roleplay's not working"

Dan considers her for a moment "is it the voice? Because I can work on it if, uh, that's what you want. Or I can try an accent, maybe make it more exciting"

"Do you ever stop talking?" she huffs, before returning to placating mode, "I think that we should stop for tonight, Dan. Maybe try again another time"

"Ok" he flops down next to her, the scent of Fahrenheit thankfully still in the air, "you know, I think I could get into this. I could, uh, write us scripts. How about 'Inside Her: the untold Clair Carlyle story'. That could be fun" he grins, nudging her arm.

Blair nods distractedly, not even bothering to ask who Clair Carlyle is and why she should care "I'm sure it'll be great Dan. I need to go freshen up"

"Sure. I'll be waiting right here. Oh, did you see the MET has a Rembrandt and Degas exhibit? Maybe we could go this weekend"

"Of course" Blair says simply, shutting her bathroom door on reality for as long as she can.

That night as Dan lies in her bed, the traces of Fahrenheit long gone and once again making her sheets smell like Brooklyn, Blair sits at her desk. She flicks through her diaries, memories of a different lifetime swirling like a kaleidoscope in front of her.

-I finally tried that with Chuck tonight. I know, I always said I wasn't ready but tonight I was. I wasn't scared exactly, but I didn't know what to expect. It was amazing though, and experiencing it with Chuck was so perfect-

-food tastes so much better when you eat it off of someone. Maybe we should have a bacchanal more often-

-I can't believe that Basshole actually spanked me last night as if I didn't have a whole day of classes at NYU to sit through today. I'm so going to enjoy punishing him tonight-

-handcuffing Chuck to the bed is so much easier when he's naked first. It also turns him on so much quicker-

-Chuck really thinks he's going to last longer than me in this stupid sex fast. He's actually banished me from the Empire. Luckily, Lily just so happened to invite me to brunch today. If that motherchucker wants to play dirty then let's get dirty, Bass-

-neither of us know if the elevators in Lily's building have cameras. It's not exactly something I can ask Serena. I hope they do-

Blair shuts them, pushing the pile to one side. Without thinking she opens her current one, turning to the next page. For some reason, writing her feelings in her diary gives her a sense of deniability. As though she can claim anything she writes is simply fleeting, even when it obviously isn't. Besides, it's not as if anyone else is ever going to read it and know she's lying, she thinks, as she starts to write what she can't say, letting her heart flow out.

I miss my Vronsky. My Heathcliff. My Darcy. My Rochester. My Benedick. My Gatsby. My waiter. My student. My Parisian lover. My devil redeemed. My love. My Chuck. I thought trying roleplay with Dan would help but he's awful. He can't even quote Wuthering Heights, let alone do anything else. So much for his literary genius. Clearly drunk elevator sex is his peak. You know, I've lost count of how many times I've had sex with Chuck. Hundreds? Thousands? I couldn't even guess. I can count for Dan on one hand. I feel this pressure with him. This feeling that he thinks he's... above me. Dan Humphrey will never be that. I mean, is he going to win some kind of award for his writing? I doubt it. Even after our disastrous coming out party I still don't think anyone knows who he is, outside of about five people. I don't want to be defined by that, by whoever Dan wants me to be."When you love someone, you love the whole person, just as he or she is, and not as who you would like them to be"

Blair closes her diary, tucking it away where Dan's prying eyes won't be able to see. Tonight, although being something of a disaster, is actually the closest Dan's come to satisfying her. He was vaguely hygienic for ten minutes. That's almost as mind-blowing as an orgasm from Chuck. Almost. She'd much prefer the ectasy of a Chuck Bass given orgasm than the ecstasy of Dan Humphrey going near a bar of soap of course, but it's something.

She climbs quietly into bed. As she turns away from the distinct scent of Brooklyn ruining her sheets she allows her mind to wander, hopefully landing on a movie for her dream. In a break from the complete filmography of Audrey Hepburn maybe Wuthering Heights is more suitable for tonight. After all, she loves a dark brooding anti-hero. In fantasy and reality.

[wyrmcat]

I wanna hear about your OCs! Favourite one? Oldest and newest? Inspiration?

Thank you!

I honestly don't do as much art (asiwantto) of my ocs as i used to, but the ones i have often are tied to rp stories me and a friend do for fun.

I honestly can't think of the last time i independently made an oc, and with my mental health only just recently finding some stability, maybe its time to play brain dolls again XD

Some of my oldest OCs were from when i tried to make my own warrior cats thing. which is very funny because i read the first book and cracked my 10 year old knuckles and whipped up a whole burgeoning binder stuffed to the brim with lore, art, maps and the like of my own version but with magic and stuff lol.

Next in the timeline is some Sgt. Frog OCs that at one point morphed a little into little demon OCs. These mostly manifested as notebooks of handwritten fanfiction (i dont even think i was reading more than creepypasta at this time, but thats another story) and also as Flipnotes!

Then, when Flipnote kind of died, i came here to tumblr to follow an artist I enjoyed the work of. I hope they're doing well.

My first impression of tumblr in 2013~ was that it was overwhelming and different and just was more of a "i'll make an account and come back later maybe." and went back to deviantart, where i had been uploading scanned drawings and ms paint doodles since like 2011.

Deviantart peetered out for me, and I don't remember exactly why, but I ended up back here and actually had an ask!AU character from show rp account on the side along with my main blog.

A lot of my ocs were a lot of self inserts or manifestation of childhood frustration, but one of my favorites was just a plain silly demon rabbit thing named Tekona (should google that to make sure its still a nonsense word tbh).

Then, eventually when i moved away from doing omegle rp prompt stuff (2013-2014~?) i was doing rp with ocs with friends irl. We would doodle little faces of our ocs and their reactions, and a response to the previous on pieces of paper. That's where Tobias Moore came from, who i actually recently did a drawing of his demon form!

I've been thinking about trying to make a new oc just for me to shake around a fishbowl with marbles and ripped-up grass (so to speak lol) but brain fog and my early adulthood being unstable kind of made me have to figure out why i love art in the first place. That, and the online rat-race for artists i was kind of conditioned from a young age to strive for broke my brain during the worst of my irl instability.

Now, i focus most of my art stuff with irl friends and community, and hope to actually vendor sculptures i make out of polymer clay this year! Things are looking up, but my mental health and newly understood disabilities still make the every day a huge effort. Easier than it was, and it will get easker than it is now, but i still put a lot of energy into basic living skills. When I do have good spurts of energy, i've been finding it easier to just go for some art stuff than before.

Anyway, this is becoming a ramble more than I thought it would be, but I suppose making OCs is tethered to more parts of me and my life and health than I thought, and it was nice to take a closer look at that for a bit.

In short, a bulk of my OCs are from my childhood and teenage years, and a lot of inspirations were from shows, anime and other artists online I enjoyed!

[rennyji]

the art of conversation - random dark side of things

I had my cell phone on me between 2:15 and 2:30 PM on Tuesday January 30, 2024, a period of time where there was a verbal exchange between my father and me.

For the hackers not relying on hacking my brain, my phone's mic was available for hacking. I'm going to assume, at this point, they listen all day. I also conversed in English. It gets confusing in this regard. If I want a show for troubled kids or American hackers of some sort, to hear me, I'd converse in English. If I'm talking to my parents, I speak in their tongue.

When my intention is for my parents to understand me, wouldn't it be delusional of me to speak in English, thinking something else might want in on my conversation?

But going back to the conversation with my father:

The conversation ended with my father saying "the greatest grief is depending on those like you..." in his native dialect.

These conversations always leave me with the sensation of WTF?!

They literally, are so random, and of an escalating nature, that it leaves you dumfounded. I think the stress is impacting their mental health, in this situation snowballing, without correction of them, over more than a decade. At the end of the conversation, to make it seem like everything's good in the house, I'm assuming he has me send texts to him about a job position I'm interested in, like it replaces everything that transpired. I say this because the last half hour is like a musical with highs and lows. There are so many low points, this request to help me find a job, again seems random, as it's not in tune with the theme or preceding atmosphere of the house.

So What happened, how'd things start?

My father, years ago, decades ago, wrote three 50 page books in his native dialect. Someone emailed him a copy, and he wanted to make corrections on printed paper. Now, he writes in his corrections on printed paper, vs. highlighting/notating in Microsoft Word. He then wants me to scan his single "X" like comments/remarks on a across 50 pages.

As are his usual requests of me, he asks something slow, painful, and time consuming: he wants me to scan 50 or more pages on our normal printer, through a computer that is malfunctioning. I agree and say I will do it. I tell him I have a more efficient way of scanning, one that is clear and fast with my phone. I've been telling him since yesterday, I can unite all the pages into a single PDF file, after scanning on my phone. There's so much you can do on the iPhone 14 and above now. I edit videos on it, instead of my actual MacBook.

He doesn't feel my method, in his computer illiterate mind, is efficient. It's not about getting free jabs at dad, but this kind of dialogue between him and me is so common, we live in the same house and we barely talk. To the scanning occurring on the phone, He literally says, "it looks small on your phone", maybe you should use the scanner or the printer.

He has it fixed in his mind, that the printer is better, despite me telling him otherwise.

I tell him, it's obviously because it's on my phone; that's why it looks small. I tell him on the computer, the size is relative, or it will look big.

I tell him that I'll email the file scanned on my phone, to his email, and he can see how it looks on the computer. And if there is any problem, I offered to rescan everything his way. What more can I do?!

With me extending a hand, offering to do things twice over, does it make sense, for him to say at the end of the ordeal, "Its my greatest grief depending on you"? Usually these sentiments are my "Actual" sentiments towards him. His accusations of problems are also reverse. Usually something wrong he sees in me, is a projection of a problem on his part. It is the craziest thing. It's the same thing with my mother. Troubled kids show or not, I know the orchestrators see this absolute circus. Distressed with utter nonsense they realize, they continue with attacking me. They need a desperate way of making me look ill, having realized, against all odds, against all probability, that my parents-not saying this out of vengeance-are not well or well enough to converse about a serious situation. What do they have riding on all this? My mother might have her job as a nurse practitioner looking bad. My dad, who thinks by running a grocery store in the Indian community, is seen as a prominent businessman and people will frown on him or think it questions his intelligence.

But what happened after my offer to rescan everything? My father says the pdf file will only look big on his desktop computer, because the monitor is big. He says the people he's emailed the novel to, is another country. He claims their monitors may not be big and they can't see the file, if I scan it with my paid TurboScan on my phone. These kind of nonsensical beliefs, end up becoming things you have to explain away.

The more to explain, the more the conversation drags out, the more opportunities for saying mean things to each other.

Then I see my father putting his hand to his head, looking watery eyed, and I just ask him, "what did I do? What's wrong?"

Then the accusations come snowballing. Apparently, according to my father, I think my ability to converse, is, literally, "impressive." Apparently, according to him, "other people" don't feel the same way. So now he's alluding to me being pretentious and arrogant.

Then I tell him, all I said was everyone sees a PDF file the same way and that I'm using an advanced scanner app-what's with this random escalating argument?

Then he tells me: I'm saying over and over that the PDF file will work. He starts yelling to stop repeating myself.

I take no pleasure in bashing my dad...but I'm in a bad spot, where things operate without my consent. For some reason, at 35 years of age, my parents are consulted on my behalf. but if you understand the back and forth between my parents and me, it sounds like someone talking to someone who's flat out stupid, or something related to two caveman trying to express a grievance.

If I say anything consecutively about the PDF file, its because of my exclamation: "How is this causing this argument?" Then my father storms off from the computer, saying he doesn't want to look at the file. Somewhere prior to this, he said let's do it tomorrow, because again, he thinks probably my mood is off, today. Going back to storming from the computer, he says to me, stop talking so that I can finish what I'm saying...

Throughout this conversation, there's something I notice about non English speakers. They say "yeah" "yeah" "yeah" over and over when someone else is speaking. It's like some kind of filler. But are they actually listening, or is it a crutch word used in place of listening?

I bring up this repeated word he says, in this random conversation because he claims its his way of agreeing with me. Over what? If its about the PDF file working everywhere, and the Yeahs are about agreeing with me, why is he questioning whether someone with a possibly smaller monitor in another country, will be able to see the file?

These conversations are all over the place. Complete and utter nonsense. It's like when I'm communicating with him, my father hears me talking like Snoopy in the below YouTube clip. All he hears is frustration, sees an irritated face, hears blurred words, and wonders why is my son somehow mean to me?!

On a separate occasion, my father tells me on a Sunday that he's going to throw my stuff out and he's going to sell the house. The things he says are that random. Then my mother jumps in. She starts giving me the crazy eye. I don't know if this is some twist or development to my situation or if they've lost it. They're scaring me. They called 911 on me four times for my conversations escalating like the scanner incident above. Literally over nothing. This time I called. I told 911 my parents are behaving oddly. Since I have a written mental history, the police and ambulances comes after me. When I realized 911 wasn't going to help me, I take my BMW to a coffee shop. What I didn't know was that 911 called my parents back and they told 911 I"m crazy. So that the police know who to target when they arrive, my father comes outside and takes the license plate of my car driving off. WTF?! Over and over What the F*. -----

My mother is a piece of work. Again, no pleasure in saying these things. But over and over, I'm sensing something from my parents: they want to make me look bad, because, they think, like with a child, if you're child looks bad, its better than you, the parent, with an adult life, looking bad. Its part of their warped psychology. When I eat junk food, it sounds like they're yelling to someone that I"m crazy for eating junk food. They react with nasty language like telling me "everything turns to sh*t once in your mouth." They start saying random uncomfortable things like "You make me want to cry when you eat this donut." WTF?! Apparently no one eats like me. Is the cultural difference so bad that they don't comprehend donuts? Years ago, my mother would get me riled up, then she holds her phone and has me react in our native dialect or English. But is anyone hearing what she said to initiate the reaction, on my part?

After years of WTF moments, as you're getting into your 30s in something occurring without your consultation, you're bound to say things like "Ma, What the h*ll is wrong with you?!" When they call 911 stemming from a conversation they won't listen to, you're bound to say "F* you." Flat out. And then the next day, in this psychotic way, they'll ask if I want oatmeal... For using curse words in my unbelievable situation, my parents will say "Who says things like this to their parents?" But then you wonder, are they idiots? Do they realize for 10 years or more, you're in a mind reading situation? Did they forget they sentenced you into a show for troubled kids? Then my mother tells the orchestrators of my situation, and in random emails to my psychiatrist, that I'm being aggressive. Again, it's like the Snoopy video in this post. As scary as it sounds at this point in the game, I think they're just seeing a frustrated face, with a yelling type tone, without actually comprehending the words exchanged.

Because I know something strange is happening, I just go along with this cycle of events. I believe the orchestrators are stitching parts of conversations, oral and written, to benefit their end. No one is speaking to me about what happens to me, so they're confident they can quietly close off what's happening (the situation as a whole), on basis I'm mentally ill, which they further by displaying me lashing out. By depicting me as abused or mentally ill, they want to assure no one every discusses this event happened to me.

I'm getting tired with reliving every horrible moment on this day and in the past, by constantly having to write it/say it, hoping someone gets what's happening, THIS time."

On the dynamic between my mother and me, I don't think my parents comprehend what I'm saying. If I ask my mom, "to make me feel better, can you repeat back what I said?" My mother lashes out" what is this? Are you a school teacher and am I the student?" "is this how you speak to your mother?"

My parents used to think "I'm acting up" or aloof when I'd speak English in the house. The indoctrinated me into our native language as that being my "mother tongue." I realized, if nothing else, I had to speak in that dialect, to get a message across. Not to sound racist, but it's like I"m a guy only speaking English talking to recent immigrants. They'll keep saying Yeah Yeah Yeah to everything and probably aren't the people you direct philosophical ideas to. But moving on, within the last few years, my mother yells at me for speaking in our native dialect. WTF?! again. Over a stretch of time, makes you wonder, who's listening, why encourage English now? In these instances, I tell my mother, I'm talking to YOU, focusing on YOU, want YOU to understand ME. She then lashes out and tells me, she's been speaking English before you were born. It's like another form of teacher/student frustration. Apparently my mother is so well spoken, I'm offending her by speaking in her native dialect. I'm insulting her intelligence. Sounds like the ego of sensitive immigrant.

Other instances while I"m speaking, making me think you're hearing my house/not always seeing m house, my mother starts storming to the garage, midway in a conversation with me, or chopping frozen chicken. If I tell her, people normally sit down or make eye contact when conversing with another, she says "how would you know what's normal?" She'll then say "she can multitask and I'm dysfunctional because I can't talk/listen while doing other things."

I think my situation is not like telling my parents "I'm going to go get a bite to eat" Its something of a very serious nature, spanning years, that requires everyone giving undivided attention.

The next thing to the conversation dynamic? If I say four-5 sentences together, my mother says I let no one speak, I"m going to get in trouble with the Americans at work, this is why apparently "no one" like me....a series of randomness. Where is all this coming from? She then instructs me, "conversation works by one person saying something, and then the other person takes a turn." We spend so much time in frustration, expressing frustration, or talking about the art of conversation, the point of what was initially said, gets lost. Doesn't conversation happen with people fully expressing their point?

I said to my mother on one occasion, don't say incendiary things, learn to ignore things when we're all in the same house. I ask her, do you know what I mean by incendiary? she lashes out because I offended her ego by asking the definition of the word. She basically says you're not my professor to ask me such questions. Its her way of never answering the question.

this show, this mind reading situation, should find people clear of, personal flaws, before having them take reign over someone else's life. If nothing else, the orchestrators should clear possible personality obstacles.

The other mental dynamic to my mother's speech, as well as my father's speech, is that they're in such a rush to speak, that they don't listen to what you have to say. Now this could be personality flaws or the flaws of non native English speaking persons.

But you gotta ask, if they're in a rush to speak, to the point where they make what you say irrelevant, "Why are they in a rush to speak?" Is it for conversation stitching for what's relayed? Is it because they're in trouble, and need to make you look bad, by putting a dark spot on your future, for the sake of keeping their past/present blemish free?

---

You test comprehension after these incidents, adrenaline might fine tune focus ... but is the big picture digested, is the whole situation processed?

---

you want to say the best about those in your life, brag about them. in my probably infamous complaint forms and crime tips from a decade ago, I'd say "Please tell my family and me what's going on...My parents are people who give up basic necessities for my luxuries..." Maybe to spite that, something changed the atmosphere of my home.

At this point, it could be anything. I keep justifying everything like:

maybe my parents have a reason for the atmosphere to the house, maybe the police need to verify my sanity at a behavioral health center...but its been a decade, and I'm tired of making excuses for everyone...I want my freedom. I went to college for a bachelors/masters "so that I can start life." What ended up happening? An enforced delay on me starting life, living life...

[elviratheepic]

Idk if I'll stick with this, but I've been in hospital for over a week now and I can feel my brain turning to mush, so I'm thinking it might be good to post like a journal thingy here. I can just throw my thoughts to the void and if anyone feels like throwing any thoughts back at me, maybe I'll reminded what human interaction is lol

And who knows, maybe some bits and pieces of my experiences rn might be handy to someone who ends up seeing it. This is a weird time for me, maybe someone else around here's having, has had or will have some similar weird times and we'll have made a little connection even if we don't speak :)

I mentioned it briefly in a post on my art blog, but to flesh it out a bit, I've been generally run down and really quite unwell like all summer and now into autumn. Been back and forth to the doctor, told I have chest infections, possible asthma, etc. I get booked in for an xray and then something looks weird so a ct scan, still thinking it's pneumonia with some odd symptoms, then a couple days later I get a call from my doctor telling me i am going to the hospital asap, there's a bunch of fluid in my chest that should not be there and also they need to check for lymphoma. I've never been to hospital for more than an orthodontist appointment and while not as surprised as I could be expected to be by the thought of cancer due to having had a weird anxiety fixation thing on the idea for a while (fun coincidence), it was still a bit of an ordeal lol. This was 10 days ago and I have not been home since. I've been coping pretty well considering the wild lack of control I feel over literally anything rn. The steroids they've got me on rn while I wait for further treatment have me feeling better than I have in a long while, and mentally the worst I've been dealing with is some fairly mild dissociation. Just kind of taking things as they come for now, rolling with things as best I can especially while so many things are kind of a bit up in the air and subject to change.

But I mean drama aside, the current diagnosis for me is pretty good. The cancer as it appears right now is treatable and has a pretty great cure rate. It's a "primary mediastinal large B-cell lymphoma" according to the leaflet I've got. It's high grade, so fast acting and aggressive but that actually makes these easier to get rid of than low grade slower working ones. It's hanging out next to my heart so that's the reason I've had all these bullshit symptoms in my chest cuz it's just been fuckin shit up in there and irritating its roommates. They've got me booked in for a pet scan day after tomorrow cuz the scanner was having issues so they couldn't get me in sooner, then the plan is to start chemotherapy the next day. Which will be an experience. The treatment plan we've basically already decided is 6 21-day cycles of chemo where I'll be in hospital for about 5 days getting monitored and adjusted treatment, then going home for the rest and coming back to start the cycle again. It's not going to be the most fun and easy experience of my life but tbh I've done hard things before and I know I'm capable of doing this. Not that this kind of thing can ever really come at a "good" time, but I think that personally I'm pretty lucky this came along at the point in my life it did. I've been able to spend the last couple years basically building myself back up from feeling entirely lost, shattered and directionless after a pretty traumatic attempt at university durring covid lockdowns. I'm maybe lacking in some life experience people my age tend to have, but ultimately I have confidence, strength and self-awareness now that I do not take for granted. Basically I got the chance to reinforce my foundations in unkowing preparation for this whole thing. Honestly, I'm kind of just curious who I'll be on the other side of this experience - wherever that may be.

My main concern has been my siblings. I'm the oldest of 3 and we're all very close, spend a lot of time together and are at the core of eachothers' support systems. One of them's got college stress and deadlines, the other's out of school with anxiety issues rn, and my instinct is to be there as a support. And of course they would be supporting me too, it's not all give, they're amazing at being there for me too especially while I've been unwell (I love them so so much and I'm proud of everything they do can you tell lol). But while they have been visiting when they can, we don't get so much time together rn with me being in hospital and I feel like it's hard to get a gauge on how things really are with eachother at the moment which is rough with there being so much change going on rn. I know we'll figure things out, but I can't help worrying about them a bit, I feel like it's kind of my job lol

Oof can you tell it's getting late and my brain's going sleepy ramble mode? Idk if I'm even making much sense but hey

The ward I've been moved to for this is good. It's a cancer ward for teens and young adults with a common room area funded by the teenage cancer trust. There's guitars, a ps4, craft supplies and free snacks. It feels so weird that like that space is for me to use, like I'm kinda tresspassing on something for people who need it more than I do. But the ward's fairly quiet and not so busy at the moment, so when my siblings and briefly my friend came to visit me today, we basically had free reign of the space without having to disturb anyone. I feel more comfortable in there than I did, and I think it's a good space for my siblings to be when they come visit. I'm really greatful they get to use it with me - even if I feel kind of like others deserve the space more (ik im being silly), seeing them get good use and some fun out of it today was good and reassuring. It's reassuring to hear people talking about there being support systems for siblings too should they need them. Especially when it feels like I can't look out for them so much in the ways I normally would.

But yeah, I think that's about all that's in my brain for right now. I'll look back on this tomorrow and realise none of this actually made any sense lol

But yeah basically got thrown a bit of a curveball lately as life tends to do, but there's answers now where there wasn't before, and the path ahead's starting to make itself visible. It sucks, but I've been worse. I'm not just saying that for the sake of offsetting the fact that it sucks, I'm just taking the the little wins where i can cuz I know that's gotten me through plenty rough and sucky times before.

Some little wins:

Woke up to magpies outside the window this morning. One came right up to the glass to say hi, but I couldn't snap a picture in time lol <3

My friend brought me a rainbow sensory slug companion, and I made a pipecleaner creature named Spigley while my siblings were here. They are friends and will be my chemo companions :)

(Idk if that's a mouth or a moustache but i think it suits him either way)

[dzpenumbra]

8/1/23

I can't begin to explain how drained I am.

I had a headache for most of the day. I just drank a cup of chai at like midnight (it's 1:15) because I realized I hadn't had caffeine all day and that's probably why I have such a bad headache. Now, that caffeine is kicking in, the headache is melting away, but I'm extremely aware of how utterly exhausted I am.

I woke up after 5 hours. I immediately put my headphones in and tried to go back to sleep. I stopped myself from trying after exactly 15 minutes. I checked my email and found messages from my therapist.

I had emailed my therapist before I talked to my former friend who offered me the graphic design commission. He replied. I read what he said as... kinda siding with graphic design and... "take what you can get"... I scanned his messages and got that message very clear from him. I replied emphasizing that design and art are not only different fields, they're entirely different workflows. I tried very hard to express how having someone go around and advertise me as a graphic designer doesn't help me as an artist, it would help me as a graphic designer. And, since the people who are looking for design are not typically looking for creative input... they're looking for someone who knows how to use software to make the thing they are envisioning... in some ways this actually damages my non-existent reputation as an artist.

I'm fucking tired of explaining this. But here I go again, on one last hoorah before I fucking finally tap out of this. Someone comes up to me and says "I'd love to help you out." They claim to "like my style", yet proceed to tell me how they avoid Instagram like the plague, when I had specifically asked them to check out my recent work before the meeting. Then, in the consultation, they have very clear ideas of what they want done and how... which leaves little room for "my style". My style, the one that he's familiar with... is realism, organic blending, colored pencil and pen work. What he commissioned... was a vector-based low-detail letterhead and t-shirt graphic for a welding company. TELL ME THAT'S NOT BULLSHIT. He doesn't want my style, he doesn't even want to take 35 seconds to google my style, or click the direct link to my portfolio that I gave him. I doubt if I asked him right now, he could tell me what my alias of over 10 years is, the one I've been using for my art for 4 years.

He claimed to want to help my career. And his way of helping is... to help himself. With a logo he needs. And "hey man, maybe people will see that logo and go 'that's pretty cool' and I'll send them your way!" <wink wink nudge nudge> Awesome. Nothing I'd like more than to do a logo for the trucking company you're doing specialty welding for. Let me see, what other projects do I have going right now... I'm doing hand-painted grip tape, I'm doing hand-made jewelry, I'm doing a hand-painted goat skull, I'm doing hand-painted customized clothing (hoodie, and soon pants too), I'm doing mini Zen gardens for artistic and functional and living home décor. Now, when you see my work, my "style"... does designing a fucking logo for a trucking company mesh with that? Are they my... target demographic?

Not only do I not know how to make logos... I don't really fucking care how to make logos. I don't. I care so little about making logos that I have been streaming and have had an online presence for my art for over 4 years and I have never once made a logo. Because I have art I can put in that spot instead.

Now... this anger, this frustration that's coming out here. This frantic need to explain and justify my position here. I found out what this is today. It was really hard for me to break myself out of it, and it's even hard to do now. I have this frantic beast in the back of my head saying "keep explaining, you're right there. Then THEY will understand. Then THEY will... help. And things will start working." It's... kinda panic. But rooted in trauma. A series of traumas that rocked me to my core; a lifetime, really. And I'm reliving it... right now. Right this moment. Those feelings, that franticness, that "I'm so close, I just have to find the right words".

It's fucking... I legit can't even put it into words. I handwrote 2.5 pages of business notes on 5 hours of sleep. I typed out monthly and weekly survival budgets, a budget of baseline survival expenses. Survival. That should've been a big red flag there.

I figured it out a bit too late, around 9:30 PM tonight. But all of these freakouts of like... It is exceptionally EXCEPTIONALLY rare that someone comes into my life and offers to help me. With fucking anything. And I was just like... "holy crap, this changes everything." And the dipshit offers to help me with shit that has nothing to do with my work, and clearly has not even looked at my work. Not only is that a bad friend, it's really a bad client. He didn't even do his research on who he was getting work done from, or quote a price first. He just dove right in and started shmoozing and bullshitting. And then shot one of my spirit animals with a .45 pistol with hollow-point bullets while on the phone with me.

So... since it's exceptionally rare that someone offers me help, I feel like I can't afford to say no. I'm in the middle of Bumfuck, Alaska, and a trade caravan is passing through. Can I afford to not stock up on food? It could be years before the next offer to help me. And then the help offer... it doesn't even fucking help my career. I, as a fine artist, art blogger, whatfuckingever the term is going to be... I'm not going to put my fucking logo for a welding company in my portfolio of fine art that I'm sending to goddamn galleries. It. Makes. Me. Look. Bad. And I'm not proud of it. It is, at most... partially my work, and most definitely not my vision.

I'm still doing the explaining thing... So yeah, I get panicked. I feel like I need to frantically explain, so they'll understand. So they'll get what I actually do. So they'll get what my career is. And then they'll go "holy shit, wow, I had no idea. That's fascinating! How can I help you?" And I'll start rattling off ways they can help me.

But... haha... BUT... They don't care. They don't. They're not a fan. "It's not my thing." "I don't like that website." "I don't have the time." "I'm not good with technology." Excuses are like assholes, everyone's got 'em and they're all full of shit.

The reality I've been avoiding is that... this guy doesn't actually care about me. He just knows I have integrity and I will get the job done, and won't rip him off... in fact, I'll probably just give it away to him for free, just like his ex-wife's S-tier tattoo design. Because of my whole monastic, people-pleasing, be-a-good-guy approach to life.

It all revolves around the idea of... support. That really meaning, at its core... social acceptance. Society (literally any person in society, ideally multiple) showing an interest in what I do and having a place for my contributions. And the reality is... I don't have that. I'm orbiting society. I'm barely even noticed. Both personally and professionally. It's rare for me to even experience eye contact.

So... when I rush to clean my whole house and mock up 6 prototypes overnight... and the dude makes up a bunch of excuses like "I don't want to look at a bunch of girls on multimillion dollar yachts pretending to be hot shit or something" as a way to exclude himself from pulling his phone out of his pocket and looking at ANY of my online media... so he can familiarize himself with what I do... The reality is very plainly, very simply... he doesn't care. And that is what it is. He is not a fan, he is not a friend, he's just making a practical business deal with an on-hand resource. And quantifying that actually, in a weird way, helps me ground and relax. It lowers the stakes, the gravity of the loss if I were to say "no".

I'm Tom Hanks in Castaway... And he's a boat that pulls up to shore, asks for directions, takes some of the castaway's food and fucking leaves. As things lie right now, he's in no way doing me a favor short of giving me money for services rendered, a service that I have never offered. That's not him doing me a favor, that's him offering me a job in a different field. But... I am doing him a favor. And it would be very smart for me to remember that I have the power in this situation.

God, I just keep sinking into that whirlpool. I wonder how visible it is. It's like I get two sentences in and I start explaining and justifying again, as though I don't already understand. THAT process. The... invasive pull of every thought stream back to that same concept... "HELP ME". And the survival instincts that come with it. "I'll be here forever." "I'll never make it." Like being stuck in purgatory. And the frantic, demeaning having to explain myself over and over to ears that are not quite not listening to me... but rather... listening to my contributions to the conversation as though I am a 7-year-old kid with a box of crayons at the grownups table at a family reunion.

That image fucking sums it up, in my experience. I don't even know how to put that into words, that feeling. Not quite humiliation... kinda degradation? Diminution? Infantilization? Oh fuck, yep, thank you Google for verifying it. That's it. Infantilization. And then I'm panicked and feverishly jawing like a 7 year old trying to tell them that Santa Claus is actually real.

The past several days of my journal has been full of this. It's clear as day. That. That's a PTSD response. I'm piecing it together. It's an emotional reliving of a life of related fucked up traumas. Really really fucked up things, that you really shouldn't do to other people, that happened to me. And when something similar to it shows its face? This happens. I can't sleep. I'm haunted for days. I fall asleep ranting to the ceiling. I wake up ranting to the ceiling. I come up with survival plans to provide a sense of security and safety.

I'm... so... tired. It's only 2AM and I can barely keep my eyes open. What this shit does to me is utterly savage. I'm so deeply grateful for the work I've put in to be able to identify it as it's happening now. And it really didn't take that much time for me to be able to go "oh fuck, I know what you are. I see you."

Where I need to be right now? Instead of the Past? Instead of the Future? Now. I need to be Here and Now. And that's what I did. I tapped out of the ambitious plan to finish the grip tape today and I decided to do some self-massage on my quads instead. I don't really know how to angle myself so my legs are relaxed to properly do it, but I did some and I feel much better for just... stopping the franticness and the freaking out... and just relaxing and doing something nice for myself. It helped.

So... I'm going to go to bed early. Because fuck it. Maybe I'll even watch a TV show in bed or something, I don't know. It's been ages since I watched a TV show or a movie. Because it's a nice, quiet, beautiful night. The temperature is not too hot, not too cold. The moon is full(ish). And one of my bean plants looks like it might actually make a full recovery! (The other sadly didn't make it. -_-) The world isn't all doom and gloom. There is peace here. Good lord, if it's one thing I'm insanely grateful for, it's that I turned my home into a place of peace, healing and inspiration. In a very dedicated way. Living in a space that nurtures life, in which I am cultivating lifeforms, has a very different feel to it.

Anyway, I'm gonna go do that. I just really felt like it was worth writing that, about catching myself in my flashbacks. Again, I had no idea that was what was happening, I was just feeling insanely strong emotions. So, that's a huge step forward. I even messaged my therapist back and apologized if I was intense and thanked him for his patience, and he knew, and seemed really relieved that I was able to figure it out myself. Good lord. That's so crazy. So much of mental health self-care is really, at its root, a very broad sense of self-awareness.

I could go on for ages. But I'm literally nodding off. Bye.

[northropi]

this is terrible advice for anything except in retrospect, and even then i don't even know how right i really am, but i probably should have dropped out earlier. i'm probably gonna have to start making loan payments soon and frankly the job i have, which is pretty nice, seems like one i could have gotten on community college education- and meanwhile embracing my "get a real job" mentality during that time has kind of fucked me over royally. now that i'm not quite stable but getting there, art is sort of all i have emotionally, and, well, yeah i'm sorta in the worst art mood i have been in for a long time.

it doesn't help that we're sort of in a new generation of prodigies who are often too young to even be able to view the stuff i post, picking up modeling and code from an actual early age. yeah the TikTok ten-videos-at-once thing seems dystopian but frankly the kids are alright and i'm left envying that.

i have no portfolio. everything i've done outside of the last four years has been pen-and-paper sketches. while, like, yeah, valid, go traditional artists 'n' all, getting those online would be prohibitively complicated. Page after page to scan, page after page that's been rubbing together for years in a cheap sketchbook, my already faint linework rubbing away, eroding into nothing. so much must already be just lost to time. and in those four years, what have i done? not fucking much. Haven't been able to find the time, and when I find a bit I can't apply myself.

everything i do has an entirely different workflow as i try again and again to get somewhere fucking functional, and i've become acutely aware of how drawing for establishing concepts rather than for scenes and characters has left me with, and say that i'm good at <x> all you want it doesn't change the fact that i'm not good at <y> and <y> just so happens to be really fucking important, an extremely unbalanced skillset. i can't really draw the same thing twice- every drawing of a given character looks like a different fucking character. my perspective is wonky, and after that first attempt i don't know if i'll ever be able to do animation. and somehow i still have sameface issues!

writing dialogue comes out fucky because i can't make a character naturally sound like anything but myself, i don't know how basic shit like speech bubbles should look, there are huge gaps in my knowledge of the software, and, just, why was i not doing what i'm doing now seven years ago? fuck, why wasn't i on this site? i'd have been bopped by the porn ban probably but it'd have been good to have my foot in the door- i know i had a phase where i was all "ewww Tumblr" but i was never that bad.

i've often expressed when asked about how i think of my life that i've spent it. not doing things but on things. that it was consumed and given away in a transaction in hopes that i could start it later-but-better. and for all that life i spent, i was explicitly promised that the next phase of it would be easier. that really high school was harder than college and it was all just to test you, that the laid-back pace of university would be easier than my college once i transferred, and that jobs would be so easy to come by after university and so laid back that my life would be a breeze. each time was a lie- well, maybe it'd have gone better if i could have finished uni, but somehow i doubt that it'd fix my free time issue.

it was five years, and i proceeded to spend an additional two rotting at home. imagine if i spent those with some friends nearby, someone i could move out with on a basic job. nope. never made any. imagine if i had spent the years of unemployment at least being able to work on things- but no, i was being prodded at to get a job even in spite of diminishing returns, kept under so much stress that even on days where i had done my due diligence i couldn't focus. now i have a job, and it's devouring my time with the drive to get there and back, and this isn't even full hours yet. can't find the focus or time to get art done- but at least my high WPM and depressive episodes mean i can get bursts of writing done and look like a sadsack to the rest of the world, huzzah.

every day it becomes easier to look at something i admire and compare myself to it, but harder to learn from it. it's like i was born yesterday with nothing but snippets of trivia to my name- enough to let me fake it halfway through a Mechanical Engineering degree. and, yet, i feel old. i don't know how else to describe it. past my prime, like my brain isn't able to wire in new habits and like my time to work with what i have is sorely finite. i keep asking myself if life sorta just sucks- if anyone is able to really do anything off the clock or if all these people i want to be like are some privileged few blessed with more time than us dregs. and as for practice, hoooh boy, did i mention the family predisposition to dementia? how i suspect even my mother has succumbed to it at some point in her conspiracy rabbithole between the ages of 30 and 50? plus my liver being funny? the hole in my brain that's just fucking there? yeah i give myself until 50, and gonna be 26 in a month, so, shit, dude, at this rate, how much art can i do in my life? like being generous i'm halfway good, and it seems like i might be halfway dead, so doing the math i don't have a ton of hope.

at what point do i stop being stubborn and just comm someone better than me to do everything fuck

Anyways, yeah, like, between the stuff I took on in High School and higher education, that's, like, a decade of my life just... Poof. Gone. And now it's... maybe some background help I should be grateful for? But right now it feels like it wasn't fucking worth it. I could have made something. I could have really... Made something. Something not exactly real, but something good.

Do you know how deluded I was in that engineering phase? I thought I'd be designing planes just as casually as I drew them. I was aware on some level that I wasn't that good, but that lie of being gifted, it strung me along into thinking that, with enough training, I'd get there, because that's totally how the aerospace industry works. Oh, and working for fucking LockMart or some shit? No moral qualms there. Just like Gramps, the one you never knew because even your abusive mom considers him abusive, who worked on the T-28's ejector seat (a specific part of a modification to a preexisting design and he didn't even do that alone and yet your dumbass was just like "yeah I'll just build a plane from a sketch every week," you fucking megalomaniac), and then died in his house with his dog that always puked every time you saw it only like 10% lucid some months after threatening his social worker at gunpoint- yeah he's one of the dementia points btw.

You know how I feel? You know, like, shows, right, movies where the character isn't having a great time so they see a vision and it's like "wow glad that's not me!" It feels like there's some version of me out there that's, you know, starving artist, poor, wondering if she made the right choices, and she's looking at me right now, like, still pretty poor, but also fucking miserable and probably not gonna be remembered after she's gone, and looking at the genie or whatever the shit that brought her in like "wow! I appreciate my life much more now! Clearly artistic pursuits are worth pursuing over job security, even within the crushing confines of the capitalist system!" And like, Djinn, buddy, like, it's been 25 years in this weird AU you made to prove a point, doesn't feel like it sometimes, but can you do me a favor and just sort of merge this timeline back into that one so I don't have to see this through? Or, like, are you gonna show her my neglected, crumbling headstone too to really drive the point home?

Or maybe this is the good timeline, but that just raises further, darker questions.

...

I kinda want to believe I made the wrong choice, really.

[juniperleafdelivery]

Take a Break

* summary: You've been stuck in a creative slump recently. No matter how hard you try, not a single idea appeared. Well, why not take a break with Juniper then?

* augh. finally dragging this out of my drafts after several months of just staring at it. once again featuring @mentheii's character oakie 👍

Sunlight streamed through an open window, casting dancing, golden shapes onto the floor. You sat at a desk in one of the many rooms in Deimos's treehouse, planning your latest project.

It would be absolutely grand! Sure to wow the minds of everyone looking at it! Or it would, you know, just look nice.

The only problem was... you didn't know what to create. You wracked your brain for ideas of any kind, but only found (metaphorical) cobwebs.

You sighed, slumping in your chair. Why was it suddenly so hard to find inspiration? On any other day, you'd have too many ideas. You would write them all down in a notebook, so you wouldn't forget any of them.

Oh! You straightened, realizing you could flip through your notebook for ideas. But you quickly slid into the same position upon realizing you lost the notebook last week.

You grumbled in frustration. Ever since you lost your notebook, it seems that all your creativity vanished too. Part of you knew that no one was expecting you to consistently create, but the other part of you was scrambling to come up with something.

But like flies trapped in a spider's web, you couldn't pull a single idea free.

There was a soft knock on the door, pulling you out of your thoughts. You pushed yourself onto your feet and forced a smile onto your face. As the door swung open, you were met with the familiar face of Juniper. He gave an awkward wave, a hesitant smile on his face.

"Uh... hey. Am I... interrupting anything?"

You shook your head. "Nah, it's alright. Good to see you, Juniper. I'm just..." you gestured to the scattered mess on your desk. "Stuck in a creative slump."

He frowned. "Creative slump? Sorry... uh, don't know much about... art."

You hummed, understanding his confusion. "Well, I'm just..." you snapped your fingers, searching for the right words. "Struggling to find ideas on what to make."

Juniper ran a hand over the back of skull, humming in acknowledgement. "Sounds... annoying." You smiled at that. "Pfft, yea. But I'm sure I'll find something eventually!"

Juniper's troubled expression didn't change. "Actually... could you... help me with something?"

"Hmm? What is it?"

"Do you want to help me... in the, uh, garden? I think... some weeds need to be pulled."

You hesitated, glancing at your messy desk. While you didn't want to refuse Juniper's request... actually, you couldn't find an alternative. You smiled at him. "Sure, why not? It's not like my work's going to grow legs and run off."

Juniper let out a low chuckle, before leading you to the treehouse's extensive garden. Outside, your eyes immediately scanned the surrounding area for weeds. This wasn't your first time gardening with Juniper, so you knew very well what kind of plants didn't belong.

There were small piles of dead leaves scattered around the place, but you couldn't find any weeds. You ventured further into the garden. Maybe you'll see them then.

A few steps in, you heard Juniper's rumbling laughter. You spun around, raising your eyebrows at him. "What's so funny?"

He straightened, looking a little sheepish. "Uh, there's not actually... any weeds. I just... wanted to... get you away from your work? Didn't see you all morning... so..." he trailed off with a shrug.

You smiled softly, pleasantly surprised by the skeleton's compassion. "Aw, Juniper... that's really sweet of you, thank you." He returned your smile with a shy grin.

"Heh... no problem-"

A loud noise cut him off, startling both of you. Rustling came from a nearby lemon tree, and several of the yellow fruit tumbled to the ground. They were quickly followed by a small, spotted brown cat. The cat pounced on a lemon, madly gnawing on it.

"Do you know that cat?" you asked curiously. There were many stray cats that wandered near the treehouse, but this one was unfamiliar.

"Oh... yea, that's Oakie."

"Not a space themed name?"

"Nope... Foxglove named... her. She's a... funny cat. Never wants to come in... But takes our lemons... all the time."

Oakie sat up, carrying the lemon in her jaws. Her green eyes blinked innocently. Then she stepped through the plants and vanished.

"...well then."

Juniper chuckled. "She'll... be back."

"Oh, Juniper?" He hummed, fiddling with his jacket zipper. "Since there aren't any weeds... uh, do you want to do something?"

Juniper grinned as he produced a folded picnic blanket from the inside of his jacket. "One step... ahead of you." He laid it on the grass with exaggerated flourish, pulling a laugh from you.

The two of you sat down, Juniper comfortably resting his head on your shoulder. "Are you... still worried about... your things?" he quietly asked.

You paused. "I'd actually forgotten about that. I guess that plan of yours worked."

"Heh... would you say it was... purr-fect?"

"Oh, I wouldn't go that far."

Juniper's rumbling laughter was better than any elaborate creation your hands could make, you decided.

[thedamageofherdays]

This is my first weekly reading log. I've been reading some incredibly lovely fics so I figured why not share that excitement with others :) Just a little warning that most of the fics this week are explicit. My favourites are marked with 🌻

🌻 SPELEVINK by Ginny_Potter @hipsterdiva [Stucky, 9k, General]

Bucky’s back. He’s leaving me messages through IKEA plushies, Steve texts Sam. jesus christ, rogers, Sam texts back.

Or, Bucky lives in an IKEA Tiny Apartment, Steve is a dancing monkey once again, and somehow they find their way back to each other.

🌻 I Want To Teach You A Lesson In The Worst Kind Of Way by fandomfluffandfuck @fandomfluffandfuck [Stucky, 61k, Explicit]

Bucky is not an arts major, not even close. He's getting his master's in Biotechnology with dreams of going into the sort of half related medical field of biotechnology prosthetics, inspired by a childhood pet, a three legged cat called Alpine. However, the schooling system (one that normally he doesn't mind too much because he's that much of a nerd) demands that he take a variety of classes; even if they don't pertain towards his immediate interests. An art elective is one of those required unrelated classes. He's not interested.

Not yet anyway; whether he likes it or not he might end up discovering an interest in art. Or. At least an interest in the professor teaching the art credit fulfilling class as it pertains to his... non-school related interests...

i got it bad for you by howdoyousleep @howdoyousleep3 [Evanstan RPF, 4k, Explicit]

“Yeah? Older?”

“Yeah yeah, just…I don’t know, the beard? This fucking hair? Just…I don’t know— older,” he manages to chuckle nervously, gasping into Chris’ mouth when their squirming leads their dicks into lining up beautifully. Seb aches, yearns, mouth watering as he mewls, both hands in Chris’ hair as he licks into Sebastian’s mouth.

And then Chris pulls back, breathes hot on Sebastian’s cheek, his bottom lip, croons, “Like your Daddy?”

bet i look nice on you by howdoyousleep [Stucky, 1k, Explicit]

“C’mon, you said you wanted to feel, said you were up for a challenge,” Steve taunts lowly, peering up at Bucky from where he sits. “Daddy, want it. Daddy, wanna feel you for days,” he tacks on in a nasally exaggerated voice, one used with the full intention on making Bucky embarrassed, uncomfortable.

It works.

Aut Cum Scuto, Aut In Scuto by humapuma [Stucky, 33k, Explicit]

Bucky never thought he would find his Omega at just twenty-years-old. Mates usually found each other around twenty-two or twenty-three, so he was overjoyed to learn that their bond was so strong, they were drawn to one another early. Until Bucky's family attorney informed him that his Omega - Steve - was not only a long-time activist and a successful nurse, he was actually thirty-six.

Steve never thought he would find his Alpha. It had been more than ten years since they were supposed to come together, and he had long-since given up waiting. So, when a kid slammed into him on the street and tried to claim him, Steve was more than a little surprised.

Can these two overcome their differences, presumptions, and their pasts to find one another on the other side?

I didn't want the scars to show by Bittersweet_In_Boston [Stucky, 8k, Mature]

“This is Steve, one of my...co-workers,” Barton says teasingly. “Steve, this is James Barnes, the tattoo artist I was telling you about.”

Steve has heretofore been dumbstruck as he looks at James Barnes, because he is the most beautiful human Steve’s ever met, with the possible exception of Peggy 70 years ago. His long dark hair is pulled into a messy bun at the back of his head, and it frames the face of an angel, with a long-aquiline nose, a wide sensitive mouth, cheekbones to cry over, and a jawline that could kill at twenty paces, covered with a light layer of stubble.

And most importantly, large grey-blue eyes that light up and scan over Steve as Barnes shakes his hand.

“Nice to meet you, Steve,” he says in his husky voice, and this is where Steve has to remind himself how to be a functioning human being in a society.

“Good to meet you too, James,” Steve says, his voice only cracking a little. James’ hand is warm and strong and dry, and Steve could happily hold it forever. He does let go after a few seconds like a normal person, however.

“Bucky. Call me Bucky,” says James. “Everyone does.”

“OK...Bucky,” Steve says, and this time his voice behaves.

🌻 grassroots by howdoyousleep [Stucky, 11k, Explicit]

Bucky has been waiting for a moment like this.

Under the guise of a work trip, he joins Senator Rogers in New York City for his good friend Sam Wilson’s campaign fundraiser for Governor of New York. All that consumes Bucky’s mind at first is Steve’s insistence on sharing a room, a bed, so much so that he is caught entirely off guard by something much less conspicuous—one Steve Rogers back in Brooklyn.

In just two days Bucky learns more about Steve than he could have ever anticipated, and although it’s only forty-eight hours, it begins to shift their relationship, blind to the two of them. From stories about his mama to where to get the best pizza in the borough, Steve shares a side of himself with Bucky that few have ever been able to see before…

🌻 I Can't Do Everything (But I'll Do Anything For You) by Musette22 (with art from rufferto) @musette22 [Stucky, 24k, Explicit]

Steve Rogers cares about a lot of things, but dating isn’t one of them – much to his fellow Avengers’ bemusement. It’s just never been very high on his list of priorities, falling somewhere behind his work, his friends, his hobbies, and that excellent pepperoni pizza from Vinnie’s on Flatbush Ave.

That is until one night, Natasha drags Steve out to a charity music concert by some hotshot singer that Steve has never actually heard of (which would surprise exactly no one, seeing as Steve is still partial to his records and his radio plays). And as soon as Steve lays eyes on Grammy-award winning musician and international heartthrob James Barnes for the very first time, suddenly he wonders if maybe dating wouldn’t be so bad after all. Dating James Barnes, specifically, that is. The question is just: how does one go about that? Especially one like Steve, who’s never wooed anybody in his century-long life, let alone a man. Let alone a man with long, dark hair, tattoos all over his arms, and a fanbase that rivals Steve’s own.

It’s not like he can just go up to him and say something like, "You and me babe, how about it?"

[hearteyes-for-killmonger]

COLORS, PART 2

*Smutless

Before I even look at anyone else's work, I reinforce sharp lines and darken the darkest areas on my painting with blue tones and deep browns. I'm working on organic matter, a bouquet of flowers and it requires trusting my eyes. I can't paint in the way that feels good, I have to be precise for realism.

"Much better," Yaya nods and I smile having not noticed that she was standing behind me watching. "After one class too and no one told you anything," she adds.

"Imagine if I got some real feedback."

"Mr. Peters," she calls gently to the professor who comes right over. He's young and cute with locs and a septum piercing. A little kooky, but loved by his students and eager to help. 

"How can I help you?"

"Criticize Meg's painting. What's she missing?"

"Honest critique," he asks and I nod. "Beautiful but it doesn't give realism. You left no room for the halo effect around the outer petal and your red leans too brown, that part is pink," he points the mid-petal. Black is not an outline color, retire your black completely. White it not an outline or highlight. Also that flower petal would have a tiny amount of speckling realistically. I'd typically use a toothbrush and splash with the bristles, but do what you can.. Keep going, you're doing so well."

"Gee thanks..." Looking at my painting with fresh eyes, I need to start over. I know I can do this way better and I'm excited to try, but I don't have the time. I have to suck it up and finish this current painting.

"What did Kellan say about your work of art last week," Yaya asks suddenly. "Could he see a difference in your technique?"

"I told you Kellan don't give a damn about my techniques or my skill level. He doesn't have an eye. He sees paint on canvas and to him it's finger painting."

"So you ain't show him. Is that because of the subject of the painting?"

"You mean the big black dick? Maybe. He's not..," I don't wanna sound mean but, "He don't understand art. He wouldn't see it how we see it. If I show him that painting he's gonna it's pornographic and then he'll think something that ain't true and I don't feel like dealing with that."

"Doesn't sound like you're compatible."

"You were just caping for him last week," I glare. "You should pick a stance."

"Oop! Well how about I'm not caping, I thought I was helping you look at things a different way because you can be harsh."

"Harsh? Because I see how things are and I tell you? You don't accept it until you repeat it. Then you wanna act like you told me something new. That's one thing that drives me crazy about you."

"I can think of more than a couple things about y-"

"Okay y'all ruining the energy in this room," Francis' voice rises. "It's a beautiful day today, sun shining!"

It is.. We're all painting the same thing today and Yaya's looks better than mine again, but I can see why and how and part of it is her colors. They aren't muddy. "Use more paint," she says reading my mind. "Don't be scared to use it up. Then when you want to mix in a tiny amount of a new color you have more to work with, less paint stroke, less mud."

"I can't wait to start this over or paint something else," I say plopping paint on my picture. At this point I just want it finished. "I'm gonna paint my mom's houseplant at home soon as I get there."

"Mama," I call through the apartment wondering if she's in her room or maybe the bathroom. I can't find her anywhere. "Where you at ma," I yell before calling her cell. She picks up on the third ring and who do I hear in the background? My boyfriend loud and clear laughing.

"Who's that," he whispers suddenly. I could scream. Who did he think?!

"We at Friday's what you want back?"

"Back? Ma.. Y'all really went to eat without me?!"

"Oh girl hush."

"Why was Kellan at the house and y'all ain't care to call me? That's aight.. I'm coming now."

"Megan, chill," Kellan cuts in.

"What? You don't want me there?"

"I ain't say that.."

"Tuh! Look nigga. This between me and MY mama so you can butt outta this one."

"HEY," she snaps but she's cut off.

"I'm just tryna know mom a bit more. I'll see you when I bring her back," Kellan says. "Love you," they say in unison. The call drops and I'm left staring at my phone screen. I didn't even get to tell them what I wanted from there.

Grabbing the keys to my mom's car, I go there anyway and I look from the door once I'm inside to see if I see them sitting down at a booth or at the bar, but they're not in there. Curious, I sit in the car and call again.

"Y'all ain't even get my order before you rudely hung up. Before y'all leave Friday's can I get the chicken and shrimp?"

"Yup," she says.

"How's the food, y'all been there a while."

"I'm not gossiping about you if that's what you asking," she mumbles and I roll my eyes wondering what would make them lie to me.

"Nevermind. I'm a let y'all enjoy each other's company without me," I snap hanging up. I go into the Fridays and get a free chicken sandwich and when I get home I start painting. I use every tip to create something that looks like I didn't even paint it, that's how good it looks and I'm only half done when mom and Kellan mozy through the door laughing with mom holding a food bag. "Is that my food," I ask.

"Yeah, lil girl, take this bag and gone."

Kellan laughs and tries to kiss me on the forehead but I move and ignore him until he gets the point.

"Seriously..," he kisses his teeth and I take my stuff to my room, closing the door. I'm close to breaking up with him.

"And then they lied about where they went that's what really pissed me off," I seethe squeezing the hell out of my Sprite. It's a vending machine and student lounge day. Yaya has McDonald's that she got her other friend to bring her.

"Take half these fries." She dumps them on a napkin. "Maybe they went to a different Friday's."

I glare. "No, Yaya."

"Okay then they lied. What you gonna do about it, dump them both?" She squeezes ketchup on her fries and I grab the other pack.

"No just him. I don't want to, but he's really irritating me with these mommy issues and he doesn't think it's a problem."

"Alright so dump him. Maybe you can go for that model guy. What's his name?"

"I don't wanna just dump him though, you don't get it. I want to because he's pissing me off but then again I don't want to because I do still like him. I just want him to take me serious and stop!"

"But he hasn't and you know he won't.. so NEXT. What about that guy?"

"Erik? I don't know what to think about him and I don't need to trade one issue for another one if you feel me."

"You only spoke to him twice, maybe if y'all had an actual conversation.."

"You saw how that went when I tried."

"He was doing a job, what did you expect? Him to stop and talk to you the whole time?"

Nah.. Just most of it. "Besides when would I run into him again, those two times were by chance." The gallery showing comes to mind. I took the brochure from COLORS when I went and the event starts this Friday and lasts the weekend. Slim odds of catching him if he goes. "Anyway, I'm just venting to you. Not asking for instant solutions."

She shrugs sipping her drink, simple as that.

"So I'm going to the gallery event Friday night if my mama lends me the car."

"And there it is," she smirks from around her straw. "You act like you don't need my advice but in the end you always take it."

"Shut the fuck up," my face cracks. I wanna mean mug but my lip keeps twitching.

"That's why good things happen for you."

"Anyway.. If he's there I'll get at him. If not, I'm enjoying the gallery so win-win."

COLORS is transformed when I walk in. Paintings line the walls and I decide to start from the left and walk my way around the entry room. They did well balancing the crappy canvases with the icy ones. They're all landscapes. Grassy hills with ponds and windmills or trees. Oceans meeting the sky. The Savannah. Dirt.. Rain.. Storms. The topic changes with every room or space. When I get to the sip & paint room, it's human portraits. If I had known I could submit mine, I would've. Still, it's fun to look at everyone else's. I see April's name next to a painting of a guy, not Erik, but a different model. I wonder if anyone else submitted their work.

Moving onto the next cluster of portraits I see a tall beanie from the corner of my eye. Turning, I'm shocked to find my ulterior motive for coming standing eight feet away from me, staring at a portrait.

"Erik," I whisper getting his attention and he does a double take. He hadn't noticed me. "We can't keep meeting like this, just say you want me," I joke rubbing my palms together. He loves it, he's smiling as he comes over to my side draping his arm over my shoulders.

"Where's your painting," he asks now scanning the wall for it.

"At home. I didn't know we could submit them for this, I surely would have." I really would have, I'm a little disappointed that I didn't know.

"Aw, I wanted to see it.. I showed you mine..," his eyes twinkle flirtatiously. He really is a troll.. but not better than me.

"And it was (chef's kiss)," I tease watching humor briefly flood his eyes. "I'll bring my painting to show you but when would I see you?"

He thinks about it. "When you coming by COLORS again?"

"Rather than a drive-by why don't we just paint one night?"

"Aight," he nods. "Say when. I have classes, but when I'm free.."

"What school you go to?"

"Brandman.. You know it?"

My face gives it away. Of course I know it, that's Kellan's school. I wonder if they ever met.

"What program?"

"General Business."

That's Kellan's program.

"You know Kellan?" I'm on edge right now.

"Yeah I know Kellan, wait.. you hisss- ?"

"Girlfriend," I fill in the blank and he nods letting go of my shoulders. In this moment I wish I were single. This just got awkward.

"Look," he sighs. "I don't want any negative energy surrounding me, my karmic energy is pure as of now.. So please don't take it wrong that I can't meet up with you in good conciousness."

"We can't.. be friends?" I shrug.  I sound crazy right now.

"We can, but nothing beyond. No flirtation," he stares laying down the law. I get it. No line crossing.

"That's all I had in mind," I smile, a lie on my breath. If he smells it he doesn't call it out. "What's your contact, we can link and paint. I'll still bring the portrait."

He gives me his number and we part ways, him moving on to enjoy the exhibit while I move in a different direction to do the same. I don't notice when he leaves, I only notice that I haven't seen him. When I leave, I call my mom.

"Bring my car," she says. She leaves almost as soon as I get there so I call Kellan to come over.

"Hey baby," he greets squeezing my cheeks at the door like I'm five. I don't like that because my older brother used to do that before he moved. I stare as Kellan goes in the fridge for juice like he lives here.

"Why can't you kiss me like a normal boyfriend? I don't understand."

"What? Aw, come here. Big baby." He gives me a bear hug planting his lips on my forehead which isn't much different to me, but whatever. I'm tired of talking about it. I pull him to my room and push him to my bed. Of course he doesn't fight me, he just falls and lets me climb him. "You feeling frisky huh," he grins. I hate that word. My hand goes directly over his mouth.

"Don't talk." The more he talks the more turned off I get. He double hand smacks my ass and it helps, I'm back into it. We makeout until he moves me from on top.

"Left the condoms in the car. Be right back."

"Man hurry up," I yell after him and his clumsy ass knocks over my painted canvas which was backwards for a reason. He gets a glimpse and does a double take, stooping to pick it up and look at me. Here we go.

"What's this," his eyes go back and forth from the painting to my face.

"What it look like?"

"Who is this?"

"Don't start that, it's a model. I painted that last week. I also painted that self portrait," I point, "Those plants," I point again, "That fruit bowl." Neither of which are paintings he cared to see. I'd have shown him.

"Whose dick is this and why you painting naked men, was you in the room with him?"

"The room?"

"Here.. or his place?"

"Are you dumb? That's not how it works." He looks like I'm lying, his side-eye trained on me. "This is why I can't share my art with you, you either don't care or you judgy. I don't like that."

"I don't like you drawing dicks and thinking that's cool. You had to really focus on it didn't you? Did you like it?"

"Oh my God," I'm regretting calling him over now. If it's not one issue with him it's another. "It's ART. You don't see like that as an artist. It's purely interpreting and recording the human form."

"But you ain't deny it.. You liked looking at it."

"What is wrong with you? I'm not doing this with you, I don't have to explain myself." That fast I'm over it and I want him out. "You can go. I'm tired. I'm going to sleep."

"You want me out so you can call this nigga," he mutters. "Who is he? I know him. He looks familiar."

He's staring at the picture so hard I decide to tell him. It's not like I have anything to hide. "He's an art model. Me and my classmates went to COLORS, a sip & paint where we all created these artworks.. and as it turns out you do know him. He goes to Brandman."

"I knew he looked familiar," he mutters still staring at the picture.

"Yeah, he said he knows you. Decent guy. I told him I was your girlfriend. Very respectful." He looks up at that and I roll my eyes. I shouldn't even be explaining. "You know, you could come to COLORS if you're that concerned."

He sits my painting back down and rubs through his mass or curly hair like he's stressed. I don't understand why he's so bothered by this, but I knew it would happen. "When," he asks.

"I'll let you know. In the meantime, goodbye because I'm tired.. of this conversation and your nonsense, I knew you'd trip over absolutely nothing."

"Nothing looks like a whole lot that I ain't fuckin with.. I bet ma don't know about this."

"GET OUT." I all but shove him out the door. I'd dump him right now if I didn't think he'd attribute it to Erik. Also Erik would think I did it because of him. I have to wait. I should've just dumped him back when Yaya said something. I don't even wanna go to COLORS anymore because all Kellan will do is ruin the vibe.

From the time Erik came through the door, Kellan has been acting up and saying lil slick shit that Erik's been graciously ignoring. It's embarrassing! Luckily I warned Erik about Kellan ahead of time so he knew what to expect. I, however, was somehow still caught off guard.

Moving his brush across the canvas, Erik's focused face is one worth painting. "You have to have an artistic bone in you somewhere Kells.. Eeeeveryone has one thing.. they can do artistically."

"Nah. I'm not artistic and I don't care for it outside of Megan's art."

"Hm," I mutter so only Kellan hears it. He doesn't care for my art either, but I keep that to myself and work on my painting. It's a guided paint night where we all paint the same picture, a star fall over snowcapped mountains and steep water valleys. I peak at Kellan's painting. "That's a cute mountain, you know if you use your brush and stipple you could get some texture." Taking a brush, I dip it in a little paint just to show him what I mean.

"You gone paint it or me," he says, so I put the brush down and let him do him.

"Small world.. How y'all meet?"

"We kept bumping into each other," I answer though it was addressed to both Erik and I. "Rest is history."

"Where and when did y'all bump into each other?"

Turning to Kellan, I mouth 'stop' because he's about to make things awkward AGAIN. I wish I didn't invite him, but I thought he'd chill if he saw there was nothing going on. Erik's been trying to be chill the whole time but I see the irritation. "I'm sorry you got wrapped up in this," I apologize as he tries to make it look like it's no big deal.

"Don't apologize for me," Kellan blurts with silence following. It's so much negative energy.

"So Erik.." We need a subject change. "How good is that model money? I may be interested."

"No you not. You'll do no such thing," Kellan stares, daring me to oppose. It takes me right back to being irritated.

"Don't tell me what to do Kellan. You ain't ever did that before I don't know why you think it's cool now.. Anyway.. How is it," I ask Erik again.

"You get a lil something, it depends. Ask me again in the winter."

"Oh no, stick to the warm weather I got you!"

"You ain't got shit. Ma would kill you," Kellan blurts.

"You mean MY mom would kill me? Mine?? I'm grown.. What are you talking about," I glare.

"You grown until ma beat that ass. That's broke hoe activity, getting naked for people. Call it whatever you want, you're still showing your body. Male or female."

I pause. "This from the nigga fuckin me in my mama's house?.. Try again. And call her ma one more time, I'ma sleep you. I keep telling you stop acting like we siblings. It's weird. I already have a big brother and you are not him."

"You salty. Don't bring up personal issues in public, that's a me and you situation."

"What the! I'm about to-" I wanna slap this blue paint on his face. "I can't do this." I drop my brush and grab my bag. "I gotta go, Erik, I'm sorry and I hope we can still be cool. If not, I get it. Completely. I'm out though."

Kellan follows me out. "You forget we came together?"

"Nah you did. What the fuck was that in there," I point to COLORS. We're in the parking lot. "You had to embarrass me, didn't you?"

"So I'm an embarrassment."

"Take me home," I snap jumping in the passenger seat of his car. When we get to my building I get out and slam the door. "I'm done. We're over, don't call me don't at me."

"It's because of Erik, ain't it. You wanted him that's why you creating problems with me."

"It's because of yo ass! I tell you the same thing all the time. You don't care, you don't listen. You ain't interested in nothing I'm interested in. You won't even try and tonight doesn't count because the only reason you came with me was to embarrass me. You were rude as fuck for what? Jealousy? He barely said two words."

"Bet you can quote both though." He looks so smug.

"You ain't hear nothing else I said."

When I get to the apartment, I look at the painting I meant to show Erik. I left it in my room because Kellan wanted me to give it to Erik for him to keep so I couldn't look at it.. As if I sit in my room lusting over painted dick. Either way, I wasn't about to give it up, it's portfolio material. Kellen can go.. if anything.

[sad-baddie001]

Allmight: Symbol of peace

Yn POV

^quirk: Agility, Super human agility and senses.

   *beep* beep* beep*

   I rolled out of bed and stood up stretching as much as possible before dropping to the floor in a sitting position. I spent  a while meditating before I got up to make my coffee. I turned the radio and coffee maker on as I began to go about getting ready for my day.

   I teach pre-K students and they are the little joys of my life. My entire life revolves around teaching them, they mean everything to me. I've been teaching pre-K for almost 6 years now and it's truly what makes me happy. I packed up everything I needed for class today and scanned myself over. I wore my black leggings with my knitted brown sweater and low tops. I grabbed my bags and headed toward the door. I locked up and made my way to work.

   The crisp fall air hit my face as I opened the door to leave out. "Woah—nope." I closed the door and ran back inside to grab my coat. I put it on along with my scarf before actually starting my journey. I began my walk as I listed to the crunchy fall leaves as I stepped on them. The Autumn season always made me happy even as a child. There has always been something about she cool crisp atmosphere that caught my interest.

   As I reached the school I walked into class and began to set up for my class. I cleaned the desk and plugged in my water heater. The classroom was already toasty as I began to place the kids mugs on their desk. I took out my laptop and began to play music at a low volume. I checked my watch as I began to make my specialty hot chocolate for my class. I finished just in time as my children began to filter into the classroom.

   "Good morning Ms. YN!" I turned my head to the door to see the smiling beautiful faces of my class begin to rush in. A huge smile spread across my face as they lined up one by one in front of me. "Good morning my lovely students!" I hugged the man each one by one before they headed to assigned seats. They sat smiling wide, staring at their cups. We made them as an arts and crafts project and they absolutely love them.

   With my entire class in attendance the morning bell rang. I took another sip of my hot chocolate before standing up and addressing my class. "Okay kids, today we are going to have a very special visitor." They began to whisper among themselves. "Okay, okay, quiet down. Would anyone like to take a gue—." I knock on the door cut me short. All headed turned to the closed door as the children were literally sitting on the edge of their seat. I couldn't make them wait any longer, they would just be cruel. "Come in." I said as I eyeballed the expressions on the kids faces. The door creaked opened slowly as a tall figures ducked into the door way.

   Almight pov

  "Come in." I heard a delicate voice through the door. I slowly pushed the door open and crouched down through the door way stepping into the classroom.  Immediately I saw the entire class full of children jump from their seats as little feet scurried toward me. I closed my eyes and braced for impact. When I noticed I wasn't covered in pre schoolers I opened my eyes to see the students all back in their seats perfectly and the teacher now in the back of the classroom. "Now class, how do we greet our guest?" Her soft voice rang through the classroom before the students responded.

"Good morning Almight! Welcome to our classroom!" Their small voice spoke in unison as they were barely able to stay in their seats. I was at a loss for words. I have never seen children so young and so well behaved. "Good morning children! And good morning to you Ms...?" I trailed off as I looked over to the teacher awaiting her name. "Ms. Yn" A smile played upon her lips as she responded. Her smile was bright and welcoming. "Good morning Ms.Yn." I said completing my sentence.

   "It smells amazing in here, may I ask what you all are drinking?"

"Ooh! Ooh!" A student raised his hand drawing my attention toward him. "Yes young man?" I asked as I called on him.

  "Well Ms. makes us specialty hot chocolate sometimes to keep us nice and toasty."

   "It smells delicious."

   " Actually Almight ive made you some as well. No one in the class is left out ever. Here you go." She said as she handed me a hand painted mug with my head on it as a cartoon drawing. I felt my face flush pink as I thanked her. I took the tiny mug from her hands as we made brief eye contact. "How about we all take our first morning sip together?" She asked.

"That sounds like a great idea." I held the cup to my lips as the class did the same. I took a sip and felt a sense of comfort. This was the best hot chocolate I've ever had. It was sweet and the perfect temperature but there was something about this hot chocolate that didn't taste like normal hot chocolate. Some more. It taste amazing. My eyes dropped down into the mug trying to figure out what was giving off this amazing flavor.

"T-this hot chocolate...... IS PLUS ULTRA!"

Yn POV

   I felt my face heat up as I took another sip of my hot chocolate. I love when people enjoy my

hot chocolate. The class giggled as did I seeing the hot coco mustache on Almight's face. "Almight, you've got a hot coco mustache." He let out a loud hearty laugh before speaking. "Well it just shows how delicious your hot chocolate is." I sat my mug down and handed the symbol of peace a napkin. He wiped his face as I leaned against my desk, addressing my class.

   "Today the symbol of peace will be helping us our with class so let's be on our best behavior. Who knows, maybe if we behave he'll come back another time." The class went crazy with excitement at the thought of almight being in their class not once but twice.

We started the day out with some songs and and math before moving into reading. Next it was time for gym. Without me having to ask Almight got the students to line up single file and follow him to the gym. He strutted down the hall heroically as the class copied his walk. It was amazing I just had to take a picture. When we got to the gym the kids did their warm up stretches before they had free play. Almight played with the kids as I planned out the lesson plan for the rest of the week. The children stacked were in a cheerleading pyramid as Almight pretended to be their coach. Something felt off as I looked up over toward the children. I jumped up as I saw all the children about to topple over. I quickly dashed over to the children and began to catch them placing them down one by one in a safe spot. I wiped the sweat off my my forehead as I was now back in my original spot. I looked up to see Almight looking over at my with his mouth slightly gaped open. I gave him a soft smile as I went back to lesson planning.

After gym it was time for lunch. I took the children to the cafeteria and returned back to the classroom to see Almight sitting at my desk with two wrapped boxes. He placed his phone down before speaking.

"Ms. Yn, have lunch with me? It's the least I can do since you made me some of your delicious hot chocolate this morning." I tried to dial back my smile as I blushed. "I'd love to but I'm not sure that's such a good idea." I looked away for a moment trying to avoid his gaze.

   "Oh?" He asked as his tone dropped slightly."Well how about you tell me about it. It'll just be two people having a conversation." I hesitated before nodding my head in agreement and walking over. He stood and pulled out my desk chair. "No it's fine, I'll sit here." I sat atop my desk with my legs crossed. Almight began to unwrap one of the boxes as he spoke.

   "I'm listening."

   "Well what would the kids think? Ya know? I usually get my lunch and go eat with them."

  "I'm sure they wouldn't mind you having lunch without them today." He said as he unwrapped the box completely as opened it up. Amazing smells radiated from the bento box as I saw the marvelous food.

"So I saw in the gym earlier. Can you tell me a bit about your quirk?" He asked as he leaned on the desk slightly, giving me his full attention.

"Sure, so my quirks name is agility. I'm basically very agile with increased senses. So what you saw earlier in the gym was just me doing normal people things at an accelerated speed. But it wasn't an easy quirk to improve upon. It took countless hours of gymnastics and speed training and LOTS of combat training—." I felt something press against my leg slightly. As I looked down I saw Almight pushing the unwrapped box off food toward me. He flashed his heroic smile at me.

"You're not going to give up, are you?" He didn't respond, he only continued to smile at me. I hopped up from the desk and walked behind it. I went into my bag that was next to Almight and pulled out the bento box I had packed for the day. I held in front of me before speaking. "I'll eat, but only if you eat what I brought. But this is NOT lunch, this is just two people talking and eating."

"Okay, let's trade." I handed him the bento box in my hands and sat back down. I watched as he opened the bento box and immediately took a bite. The atmosphere around seemed to have shifted as he placed his hand over his heart.

"This is......the best cooking I've ever had." My entire face turned a bright red as I immediately looked everywhere else in the room.

"Please, you're too kind. It's just something I threw together."

"Oh please Ms.Yn, you're being too modest. How do you do it? Family recipes?"

My face went flush even more as I looked down at the floor. "Actually I just put a little love into everything I make."

"Well it's absolutely amazing." I looked back up at him and he was blushing just as hard as I was with the same cheesy smile. We continued to talk as we enjoyed each others food. His food tasted just as amazing as it smelled. I felt like I was in heaven. Before long it was time to start class again and the students began to return.

Almight POV

My phone began to ring as the students filed into the the classroom.

"One moment, I have to take this." I stepped out of the classroom and answered the call, it was Nezu calling.

"Hello?"

"Ah! Almight! So nice to hear from you. Midnight has gathered all the faculty in my office and she told us that there has been someone to peak your interest. You must come back and tell us all about it over tea."

"Well actually sir I—."

"See you soon." I let out a deep sight as he hung up the phone before I had time to respond. Note to self: don't call Midnight—even when no one else answers the phone.

I walked back into the classroom and walked over to Ms.Yn. She looked up at me and I almost wasn't able to tell her soft beautiful face.

"Duty calls." She nodded as she understood what I meant.

"Well can I get a picture of you with my class?"

"Of course."

"Duty calls young heros! How about we all get a photo before I leave."

The class all ran over to the back of the classroom as Ms.Yn pulled out her phone. The children crowded around me as she raised the phone.

   "Now what kind of picture would this be if you're not in it?" I placed my arm around her torso and pulled her into my side.

   "Okay let me set up the camera." She said as she bolted to her desk and propped up her phone. She put the timer on and ran back over. I pulled her back into my side as I balanced children on my shoulders and one atop my head.

   "Everyone say PLUS ULTRA!" She wrapped her hands around me the best she could, I looked down to her blushing and smiling face as she posed for the picture. I couldn't help but think to my self how beautiful this woman is.

"PLUS ULTRA!!!"

*click*

   She jumped over the children and over to her desk. I grabbed the bento box she had given me and walked over to her. I looked down at the picture she was smiling so widely at and noticed the pink shade that dusted me face. Hopefully no one else will notice.

   "Here you are Ms. Yn" she turned on the heels of her feet to face me. "Keep it, you can return it to me when we have lunch again."

   My face was now beet red as I tried to contain my excitement. "I-I'll uhh, I'll come see you after school. Does tomorrow work?"

   "Works for me. Now go be a hero."

   "Don't worry about a thing, I'll take care of everything. Farewell class!" I said as I began my way out of the classroom.

   "GOODBYE ALMIGHT!!"

*BUMP*

I turned my attention back to where I was walking noticing I hit my head on the low door frame. Giggles came from behind me as I nervously chuckled and crouched out of the door. I was so excited I could barely contain myself. I dashed out of the school building and leaped through the air.

"PLUS ULTRA!"

[yoongikisses]

{MYG} My Pick-Up Note

Pairing| Yoongi x Reader

Summary| You get a Pick-Up note for your order as you missed the Postman this morning. As you pick it up at the post office, you notice it is not your order. But a guy's named Min Yoongi.

Genre/Warning| Fluff, oneshot

Note| I came up with it today and woke up way too early on my free day :,> so enjoy

Disclaimer| Authors note!

Please know that english is not my first language. I apologize for grammar/spelling mistakes and hope you can still focus on the storyline instead. All of the upcoming stories are only pure fiction from my daily ideas and imaginations and I'd likely want to share my passion with you.

If you have requests please always feel free to dm!💜

Much Love!

—Silvy🐱

________________________________________

You groaned as you spotted the yellow pick-up note sticked over the top rim of your mailbox. You ordered a hoodie. A hoodie that would've been delivered and worn by you now only if you weren't that lazy to open the door for the postman just about twenty minutes ago. You rolled your eyes and went back to your apartment. You cursed at yourself under your breath. You've been waiting and all hyped about that hoodie for so long. And now, it is your fault you have to wait for even longer now. You looked at the pick up date, only to percieve the message, that your package would arrive back at the main post office two days later.

___________________________________

Here you were. Standing in line to get to the shelter. You couldn't take your mind off of how good you would look in that new damn hoodie after a painfully long amount of pre-order waiting and shipping duration. Your head snapped up at the 'ding' and you stepped to the smiling lady at the shelter.

You handed her your yellow pick-up note and she nodded her head checking her PC.

"Just a moment miss Min~" you nodded and then frowned after she left.

"........ hah?"

She came back with the package and handed it over. Your face was the definition of happiness and your hands have already met the white box. "Thank you, have a nice day~"

The lady already pressed the button to cause another 'ding' to invite the next person to get to the shelter, as you jumped in "Wait!"

The lady snapped her head up at you.

"Th--this is not my adress!" She blinked and checked the yellow papers. "It's your pick-up number miss. It is truly the right package"

You looked at her dumbfouned. "Miss, this is still not my adress! I want my damn package!"

The elderly lady behind you started mocking in a high pitched voice to make you move out her way, impatiently wanting to hand in a letter.

The lady at the shelter sighed. "Miss Min, please. Contact our hotline about your issue. I'm just trying to do my job. Have a nice day."

You boiled in anger "I am not Miss Min! Arghhh!" You stumped out the Post office angrily and left. You entered your car and threw the box onto your passenger seat and left a bothered sigh.

After calming down you turned your face to the box again. It surely was the same brand you bought of. That's why the boxes must've been exchanged... you carefully scanned the box and looked at the adress. Maybe just the adress was wrong? But then the package must've arrived at the wrong adress and you would've never got that doomed pick-up note. You rolled your eyes annoyed. The only way to find out was to drive to that adress and ask the real owner. He probably has your package.

_____________________________________

You scanned the plate once again to make sure before you rang. "Min Yoongi" it said. It's the right thing. It only took a few seconds for the inhabitant to open the door after you rang. and he caught you off guard. Real bad. Here he was. A guy your age. Maybe just a year older. Or two. His eyes were hooded. His features were beautiful and skin really well taken care of and lips pouty. His black, probably freshly dyed hair was all over the place. His black plain shirt was hanging loosely from his shoulders, showing off his collarbones. His necklace was hanging from his neck showing a silver pisces pendant and the black baggy sweaters matched also to his black fila slippers.

After a few seconds of re-thinking your words you snapped. "Um-..."

He tilted his head at your unsureness. "Can I help you?" His voice was even more amazing. It was raspy. Probably still his morning voice.

"I-- had to pick up my package I ordered. But it's the wrong one. It's your adress." You looked to the box in your hands. Quite shy at the stranger. "So... I wondered if you possibly have mine?..." you asked shily and lifed your head once again to meet the strangers eyes again. He leaned agains his door frame crossing his arms and poked the inside of his cheek with his tongue. Looking up as if he's trying to remember something "Hm... could that be the Mastermind hoodie?" Your eyes got wide "Y-Yes!" The realization hit you "Y-You opened it??" That left you sink in annoyance. "Of course" he nodded simply. All unbothered and unapologetic. "I was expecting a package of the same shipper." You lifted your hands. "Correct. This one" he just nodded. Remaining in the same position. He caught you in confusion. "So...... can I have my package?" He lifted his eyes again as if he's seriously thinking about it. "Technically, what's lost, gets owned by the new founder"

you frowned, not showing mercy of being friendly anymore "what? Are you serious??" He chuckled at your annoyance. "I'm pretty sure you'd be happy with my purchase aswell." You boiled in anger.

"Yah! Are you seriously thinking anything you bought could exchange my Mastermind hoodie in collab with Vans??" He laughed at your passion about the fashion item. "Mh. I don't know. I'll think about it. Okay?~" he smiled and stepped in, grabbing the door handle. "W-Wait!" You placed your hand at his door nearly desperately. He lifted his head. Trying so hard to hide his amusement. "Do you seriously want me to pull up at your door again just to ask if you've changed your mind??" He shrugged.

"Hahh??" You frowned at him giving him a judging face. "Why not. Maybe I'd change my mind by evening" he smirked. A blush kinda creeped up your face as it kinda sounded like an invitation. You make your annoyance stand out more so he wouldn't notice your flustered face "ughh just you wait mister Min." He waved annoyingly and gave a cocky smile before closing the door.

_____________________________________

You entered your home nearly slamming the door and gripped the box in your hands. "This guy has the guts-" your gaze fell onto his box and you thought.... "Technically, he opened mine." A smirk grew wide as you did wonder what he ordered. You did not hesitate any further to open the package and it caught you by surprise when you saw his purchase. It was a fear of god hoodie... a heck lot more rare and expensive than yours. Why would he decide to keep yours? You threw his hoodie on without hesitation and scanned it in the mirror. It was obviously a bit over sized on you but honestly. It looked amazing on you. You instantly fell in love with the item. Not wrapping your head around the fact that he would ever exchange his purchase with yours. He probably gave hundreds and hundreds of dollars on it and probably waited a painfully long amount of weeks just like you. Wasn't he upset when he opened a wrong delivery?

Your mind reached to the possibility of him just hitting on you. But when you remembered his hot features you instantly shook your head off the thought. Impossible. He was probably just bored or wanted to annoy you.

____________________________________

You rolled your eyes as you saw the name plate at the doorbell of his door. You rang it. Gulping for some reason. And there he was again. Still his fluffy black locks. Pouty lips and those narrow eyes. He wore a hoodie. Not yours in particular. And neither his. Which left you questioning how it would look on him after you tried it on. "Miss?~" you rolled your eyes once again. "My. Hoodie." You caught him lff guard. He was visibly surprised you did not mean to keep his hoodie, even though the worth was like five times the amount of his. Why didn't you? Well. Technically you could just keep his unbothered. Probably anyone would. Maybe... if there wasn't just his invitation that always sticked in the back of your mind for you to come back in the evening. That was like more of a reason you came. But of course, you wouldn't tell him that.

"Not satisfied?" You chuckled. "Funny one you are." He gave a cocky smirk. "Why don't we disguss that with a cup of coffee. Is probablx cozier than the hallway." Here it was. The 'hidded invitation' again. What was this guy up to? He let you inside. And you stepped in carefully taking your shoes off as you scanned his place. It was clean. Really clean.

There was a bottle of wine standing unopened on the coffee table. Probably his plan to consume it for the night as a weekend start on friday evening. There were art pieces hung up on his plain white and grey walls. The furniture were mostly black. It looked cozy yet modern and expensive. The apartment was dimmed with warm lights, the TV giving a better job of illuminating the living room area. "Thought you said coffee" your comment reffered back to the wine. He scratched his head "I did not expect you to come actually..." now it was his turn to blush. It was cute. It caught you off guard. "Pff." You rolled your eyes. "I'm no stealer. I dont need your hoodie" he smirked at one realization. "Good. Give it to me" it made your expression drop. "Uhm-........" he smirked as you noticed what he was reffering to. Yes. You didn't have it. The excitement and nervousness to know you were 'hiddenly invited' to a guys place made you forget why you actually came in first place. "You forgot it." You nervously snapped. "I--I really don't need it! I-it's yours really I just--" —"You forgot why you actually came here?" Yes. It sounded really dumb when he said that. But yes. He's right. You could not say a word as the blush on your cheek made it hard to do so anyways.

"....... I don't even really want mine anymore anyways......" you took a seat at the couch.

He looked amused at you. Letting your words sink in for a minute or two, that seemed like an eternity. The only thing that made sound was the two wine glasses that he got from the kitchen and the next sounds were his steps he made with his Fila slippers. He sat to you. Not really bothering to make an appropriate distance between your two sitting figures. It caught you in nervousness even more. You honestly did not even expect a guy like him to sit that close to you. He seems rather chill and distant. He placed the two glasses to you and grabbed the bottle opening it while piercing his gaze on you. "So.... why then" you lifted your gaze to meet his eyes. Hoping he would read your expression that clearly said 'Duh. You invited me'. He just chuckled. And it was damn attractive. "We can also just see this as an invitation." He said and back here was that annoying smirk. He got your message. You really wanted to change the topic to end the embarrassment of your poor actions. "You... got taste." He gave you a short glance with a low 'huh?' After pouring the dark red liquid into your glass, placing it to you.

"The hoodie.... you got good taste in fashion" He couldn't help but take advantage yet again to connect your opinion to the previous topic. "You mean you got taste now?" You got flustered and embarrassed. Leaving you give a "yah!" That made him laugh out loud. "I really don't need it! I forgot okay?...." he gave you a rather warm smile now. "Okay. Let's say I believe you." You frowned, as it sounded like he didn't. "What's the reason you forgot. You must've had in mind what our business was, as you prepared for tonight." You gulped. You did put in a bit more effort in your make up and hair to look cute. And you really looked stunning. "I'll bring it...." you lowered your gaze. The next thing you felt was his warm fingers lifting your chin and your heart dropped at the physical contact. "I told you. I don't need it. And as you said you don't need yours." It gave you the impression of him wanting to confess to why he made such a scene with the orders. "S-so... why......?" He smiled and took grip of the glass circling it to make the crimson liquid stirr in the glass. He sure was a wine lover. He brought the glass closer to smell it. His small actions and silence only making your interest rise in excitement, also making you more curious of his person himself.

"I took advantage." His lack of explanation did the same cause as his quiet actions did. "...... of?" He put the glass down, not even taking a sip and he smiled folding his hands as if he's having a hard time telling you the truth. "I came to return your package two days before you came to return mine" you blinked surprised waiting him to continue. "W-what made you stop?" He chuckled low. "I saw the pick-up note on your mailbox and knew, you would get my package. It....... sounds creepy but I saw you get out the apartment to grab your mail and.... you caught my interest" you blushed. You were really surprised at his statement and did not know what to say, making yourself repeat his words. "I.... caught your interest?" He nodded "yeah. So I wanted to see if your appearance and your type matched my interest aswell when you knock on my door asking me the favor of exchanging our packages." You stared. "So....... you invited me?" He nodded once again. "You were cute." He smiled at his own words. "So the next step was to test you if you're interested aswell in giving you two options" you frowned confused. "The first one being keeping my hoodie and never saying a word again,"

"You know...." you turned your head to him. Your face matching his state aswell. He leaned closer. Making your blush grow only wider as you could even smell his cologne mixed with the fruity scent of the high quality wine. He talked low. Almost seductively

"I do wonder what you look like in my hoodies."