#this is just a little vent/update on some stupid shit going on on here regarding someone i won’t name

[jimines]

.

[staticscreenwriting]

Skin deep - Chapter One || B.H.

Synopsis: Billy survived the battle of Starcourt but is left with a body full of scars. Scars that remind him of the pain he had to go trough and the horrible person he has become. In order to forget about all of that and move on, he wants to get them covered up. Good thing Hawkins has a brand new Tattoo studio and the girl who works there might just be the help Billy has been looking for.

A/N: I needed a TattooArtist!Reader x Billy story so I wrote one and you know me, I can’t keep it short and simple. There will be several parts to this. Don’t ask me about an updating schedule because I don’t have one. I try my best to be consistent but I make no promises. Likes, reblogs, comments are all much appreciated. 

[additional note: I am German. Sometimes I get the tense wrong or make mistakes. I am useless when it comes to punctuation. Go easy on me, please.]

Billy’s palms are clammy as he steps out of his car. His eyes wander towards the sign hanging above the door, welcoming him to “Little Bear Tattoos” as an American traditional bear face grins back at him.

This isn’t his first time getting a tattoo, by all means, he shouldn’t be as nervous as he is. But things are different now. Everything is different. Things change after you almost die because you sacrificed yourself to an otherworldly creature to save a little girl.

He had just turned 18 when he got that stupid little skull inked onto his arm. That’s now just a little over a year ago but it seems like a lifetime has passed since then. Sometimes, Billy thinks, sometimes It feels like that was another person altogether. That dumb little boy who thought he knew shit. The one that paraded his tattoo around like a complete and utter douchebag. He thought it made him look rough and cool and dangerous.

In retrospect, it just made it more obvious that he didn’t know shit about anything. Not life. Not death. And most definitely not about what it means to look rough and cool and dangerous. Sometimes he wishes he could go back to that moment and just relish in ignorant bliss. Most of the time he tries not to think of the past though because thinking of the past means thinking of all the things lost that night in July. Most of all himself.

Back then, getting a tattoo was easy. Now, it feels like the entire world is resting on his shoulders. It feels like he can barely keep it all from crashing down on him. 

The bell above the door chimes as he steps inside the tattoo parlor. It’s a relatively small shop but it looks clean and the walls are covered in framed drawings of very intricate designs. If those have been drawn by this place’s artist, he’s in good hands.

A fluffy little brown dog is lazily resting on a pillow by the shop window and only raises his head as the sound of footsteps approaching fills the room.

“ Hi, welcome to little bear. “ a cheery voice calls out to him as a girl steps out from behind a curtain leading to some backroom. She has a big radiant smile on her face though it exudes a certain warmth that only genuine smiles do. 

“ Hi uh — I was wondering if you have a free spot. “ 

“ Hmm… that depends. What are you wanting to get? “ 

To be quite honest, he hadn’t really thought much about it. All he wanted was something to cover up the ugly scars still streaking most of his body. When before, he felt a certain kind of pride whenever he passed a mirror, now it sends a sharp pain straight to his heart. Everything about him, from the perpetually tired look in his eyes to the scars, it’s al a reminder of the bad things he’s done. And the worst part is that he can never talk to anyone about it. Ever. No one will understand but the people who’ve been there, and though he and Max are getting along much better now, he still doesn’t fancy having long profound conversations with her about his demons.

“ I uh — I’m not sure but it needs to cover something.” 

“ Old tattoo? “ 

Billy swallows audibly “scars.” 

He’s not sure what reaction he’s expected from her but a casual “Okay, we can figure something out. “ is not it. Though he avoids wearing short sleeves these days, whenever someone manages to catch a glimpse of his damaged skin he got 1 of two reactions. Either people started regarding him with pity or disgust and he honestly wasn’t sure which was worse. At least those disgusted by him left him well enough alone and didn’t hold a million questions they expected him to answer in great detail.

“ Let’s sit down and we can talk about some things you like and see how we can incorporate those into a tattoo. Also, I would have to take a look at the area you want me to tattoo and see how bad the scarring is just so I can take that into consideration when designing the piece. Scar tissue is harder to tattoo but don’t worry, I promise I can do it. “

“ You’re gonna be tattooing me? “

It seems like a dumb question but honestly, Billy hasn’t met or seen that many female tattoo artists in his life and this girl seems to be about his age. That’s not something you see every day.

“ Yup. I’m (Y/N), this is my shop. Now, do you want something to drink while we discuss the piece? I got all kinds of sodas, I got water and I got non-alcoholic beer. 

“ Dr. Pepper? “ 

“ Good choice. Coming right up. “ 

She walks behind the counter with the cash register and reaches into a small fridge taking out two cans of Dr. Pepper before leading him towards a little seating area by the window. 

The fluffy little dog lifts his head once again regarding the two of them with only mild interest before plopping back down. 

“ Oh, you okay with dogs? I can take him to another room if you’re uncomfortable. “

Billy shakes his head. Nah, he loves dogs. Always wanted one but Neil, being the miserable bastard he is, never allowed the kids to have any pets. Too much work, too much responsibility. What an asshole. 

Though Billy is never going to admit it, the bedside drawer, that was once filled with issues of Penthouse magazine, now holds a bunch of self-help books and magazines dealing with topics of PTSD and trauma. A lot of them mention getting a support animal whether that be a specially trained dog or just a hamster to keep you company. It makes sense, it gives you someone who listens to you vent about all your problems and insecurities. If only his dad cared enough about his mental state to reconsider his stance on pets. Then again, when has Neil ever cared about him?

“Nah, it’s fine don’t worry. He’s cute.”

“Thanks. His name is Bear and he’s kind of the mascot of this store.”

There’s a twinkle of pride in her eyes while she talks about the shop and her dog. Something Billy is infinitely envious of. Everything he’s ever felt any hint of pride in is gone. His car. His looks. All of it.

“Okay so tell me a little about yourself. Is there anything you can think of that you’d like to get inked? Any interests, hobbies? Maybe you wanna tell me a little about yourself.”

Back before, when things were different, Billy would’ve packed as much ego enlarging words and compliments into it as possible. Would’ve mentioned his car and his most satisfactory performance skills in the bedroom. But now, he hardly knows who he is these days. 

“ Um … my name is Billy. I’m 19, I’m from California. ‘Bout two years ago my dad packed us all up and had us move out here to the end of the world. Then … things happened.”

“You miss California?”

“Every day. The thought of going back one day is the only thing that keeps me fucking going. I miss the ocean. I miss surfing. I miss home. I miss all of it.”

She looks at him intensely for a moment, sizing him up, contemplating her next words. He can almost see the creative gears running in her head. 

“Alright. I might have an idea. I’d have to see the area first though.”

He expects pity in her voice though there is none. Her words are comforting and warm and calm. Billy wonders how often she has to deal with clients like him. Those who come to her with painful and ugly reminders of their past.

His hands are shaking as he pulls off his denim jacket and reveals his left arm to her. The skin is streaked with scars. They’re the same paths that used to wind up and down his arm in inky black hues like poisonous vines. Now they’re a faded pink but that doesn’t mean he hates them any less.

Billy can feel his heart beating in a fast rhythm as anxiety floods his system. Maybe this was a bad idea, maybe -

“Okay how big would you want to go,” (Y/N) asks, her voice gentle and soothing and her eyes switching from his arm to his eyes. She doesn’t ask him what happened and that’s a relief.

“As big as you can. I know you can’t make it disappear but I’d like as much of it covered as possible.”

“ I won’t be able to do an entire sleeve today but if that’s something you want we can start with a bigger piece on your upper arm today and then work our way to a full sleeve in the future?”

“Sounds good. I just want the scars gone. I need them covered.”

“Well my guy, you’ve come to the right place. It’s my specialty. You’re in luck too, I’m free all day so depending on your pain tolerance and the trauma of your skin, we might even be able to finish the first piece today.”

Pain tolerance, he wants to scoff at that. What he’s been through, the pain and the anguish and the emotional trauma, nothing will ever compare to that. Not even close. He’d get a 100 tattoos all at once and it still wouldn’t measure up.

“Alright, let’s do it.”

“Cool awesome! Imma go over to the drawing board and you can feel free to keep yourself entertained in the meantime. We have an arcade machine in the back. There’s records in the corner if you want to listen to some music. I’ll even let you choose.”

“Is that an honor?” Billy asks, a small smirk on his face. Every once in awhile a flicker of the person he used to be shines through. But then it’s gone and he’s left as this shadow of his former self.

“Oh you have no idea.”

As (Y/N) settles behind a big wooden table and starts scribbling away, Billy wanders over towards the corner of the studio. A bright red record player is resting on a sideboard surrounded by several boxes filled with vinyl records. They’re sorted by band name then chronologically. There’s all kinds of genres too. AC/DC and Judas Priest but also Stuff like The Mamas and the Papas and the Monkees.

“Anything, in particular, you wanna listen to? Kinda hard to make out your taste with this selection. There’s … everything.” Billy calls out to her, leaving through the records.

“What can I say? I like a bit of everything. Don’t like to limit myself.”

Old Billy would’ve raised his eyebrow and asked her if that extends to her love life as well. But old Billy is gone and so he keeps his mouth shut.

“I know it seems like just your kinda music, but maybe stay away from the hard rock. Maybe something a bit more mellow.”

He hasn’t really listened to a lot of music since … well since everything. He mostly sleeps or reads and sometimes when it’s a good day he even attempts to do a bit of writing. It’s nothing spectacular but it’s - something. An outlet really. The stories vary from an autobiographical retelling of the incident to silly tales of young boys going on space adventures. It's a way to get lost in the save parts of his mind. The ones that can create make-believe worlds and happy thoughts. Not the ones tainted with gruesome images of the past.

The opening notes the Monday Morning by Fleetwood Mac fill the air and Billy doesn’t miss the smile tugging on the corner of (Y/N)’s lips. 

“Nice. Didn’t really think you were a Fleetwood Mac fan.”

Billy shrugs his shoulders casually “they’re a classic.”

He sits back down in the seat by the window, watches as the clouds pass the sky and the people go about their day. That’s until a furry little ball of fluff settles down in his lap and demands to be cuddled.

“Oh hey, you.”

“Sorry about that. Bear does not understand the concept of personal boundaries. He thinks everyone is only here to pet him. If he bothers you just set him down.”

But he doesn’t mind one bit. In fact, combing his fingers through the curly brown fur fills Billy with a sense of calm and it grounds him a little. He really needs to adopt a dog for himself. 

“It’s fine. No bother.”

Time passes with Billy cuddling the dog and ever so often glancing over at (Y/N) while she’s working on the sketch. She’s drawing then erasing then redrawing. Copying then throwing it away then doing it all again. All the while she’s dancing along to the music. There’s a lightness about her that Billy wishes he could possess. Even before the Stacourt situation, he never had this unbothered lightness about him. That’s just not the person you turn into when you grow up in a house with Neil Hargrove.

A light drizzle falls outside and Stevie Nicks sings along to it and life feels … almost peaceful right then. Billy lives for these small moments of normality. These glimmers of what life used to be. 

“Okay, I’m ready. Wanna have a look?” 

There’s a bright smile on her face as she looks at him and waves the sketch around. “I think I nailed this one. I hope you’ll like it.“

Billy can see that she actually means it. It's not just a silly phrase she’s tagged onto her sentence. She’s genuinely nervous for him to see it.

Bear follows Billy as he walks toward the counter, a smiley (Y/N) watching their every move. There’s something about how passionate she is about her work that makes Billy both happy and sad. There used to be things in life that he was passionate about. His car. His clothes. The music he loved. Now it’s all dull and trivial and he’s lost. So damn lost.

His eyes wander towards the sheet of paper. Delicate black lines run across the page, swirling and arching and creating a beautiful composition. It’s a lighthouse. A tall and sturdy one. It shines it’s light out into the distance to guide the ships safely around the sharp edges of the cliffs. It’s a beacon of safety and hope surrounded by the rough sea and crashing waves.

“I thought it was a nice symbol, you know. Light in the dark. Guiding ships to safety.” (Y/N) explains. She’s biting her lip nervously and Billy thinks it’s insanely adorable. This piece is perfect, to think she’s uncertain and nervous about his reaction …

“I tried to incorporate the ocean and the crashing waves. You know, as a reminder of your life in California.”

Billy is speechless for a moment. Everything he wanted. All the ideas swirling around in his head. She put it down on paper, made them visible. And he didn’t even have to voice them. They were all just mushy gray clouds in his head, non forming a coherent picture. Just a feeling. A feeling of peace and belonging. Of being strong when everything around you tries to push you down to your knees.

“Do you like it? I can change it if you —“ 

“I love it!”

Her mood immediately changes after hearing those words. As if a switch is suddenly flipped and sunshine floods her face. Her eyes light up and her smile widens.

“Okay perfect! Wanna get started?” 

“Sure, let’s do it!”

The black leather chair is soft underneath him as (Y/N) puts the stencil onto his skin. She has a soft gentle touch which only matches the tone of her voice. Very calming. A complete opposite to the rest of Billy’s life.

“Okay, so it’s not gonna be pleasant since I have to tattoo over scar tissue. If you wanna tap out or take a break just let me know.”

He’s fairly sure that whatever pain he’ll have to endure, it will be nothing compared to what he’s already been through. Pain has a completely different meaning to him now. 

“I’ll be fine.”

And he means it. Not just about the tattoo, about everything. It feels like this is the first step into a new life. One that won’t be determined by his past mistakes. By the trauma.

The buzzing sound of the tattoo gun fills the air and (Y/N) starts pulling the first few lines. Short strokes. As if to test his pain tolerance. Her eyes wander up to meet his, a silent question shining through them.

He grants her a nod. One of pure determination. One that says, without question: “I’ll be fine!”

For a while, they sit in comfortable silence. There’s just the humming of the machine and the raspy voice of Stevie Nicks to lull them into a soft tranquility. 

“ I’m not gonna ask about the scars but can I ask about the skull on the other arm?”

Billy lets out a mix between a laugh and a scoff. “Sins of my youth really.”

“ Oh geez, that makes you sound so old. You’re what, 19?”

“ Almost 20.”

“ See. You’re still in the prime of your youth!”

Billy shrugs his shoulder as she dips the tattoo gun back into the ink. Truthfully, it doesn’t feel like he’s in the middle of his youth. He feels so damn tired. He never got to be a kid. Never got to be a teen. Always wandering in between it all, lost and disillusioned with no one there to guide or help him.

“ How old are you?”

“ Just turned 20 a few days ago.”

“And you already have your own shop. That’s impressive.”

“Yeah well, it’s all I ever wanted to be. Worked my ass off. Spent all my free time at my cousin's tattoo studio up in Carmel. He taught me everything I know. Worked after school and on the weekends and then when I graduated my cousin gave me a little loan and I had enough to open the shop. He believed in me when no one else did and it means everything to me. Hope I make him proud. I just always felt like this is what I'm meant to be. An artist. And this way my art gets immortalized on people’s skin and in some cases it can help them overcome difficult times in their lives. I hope I can make even the smallest change in people’s lives. “

It doesn’t get lost on him, that she doesn’t mention her parents. Something must be up there but it sure as hell isn’t his place to ask about it. Families, he knows quite well, can be a touchy subject.

“Well, you’re definitely making a change in mine.”

“Yeah?”

She looks almost bashful as the question tumble from her lips.

“Yup. I … I need to make those scars disappear. They — they remind me of the worst time in my life and of a version of myself I never want to be again. Having you cover them for me with this art piece that’s so fucking cool, it means everything.”

“That’s good to hear.”

“You should be proud of yourself.”

There’s a connection there, one he can neither grasp nor explain. It’s like she understands parts of him he doesn’t even put on display. And it’s both scary and exciting. And maybe, he understands parts of her she’s not aware she’s putting on display either.

“Okay. I’m done!”

There’s an infinite sense of pride exuding from her words. Billy wishes there was something in his life that he was good at. Something to let him be proud of himself.

“Wanna take a look?” (Y/N) asks with the most radiant smile playing on her face.

“Absolutely!”

His legs are stiff from sitting in the chair for so long but he can’t wait to see the finished piece. Slowly he walks towards the full-length mirror, (Y/N) hot on his heels.

His eyes fall onto the artwork now permanently inked into his skin. There are vibrant shades of blue and dark black lines. The sea is alive, it’s unforgiving and rough. But there’s the light from the lighthouse, the hope, the safety. It’s all there’s and it’s beautiful. Where there used to be ugly pink scars thick and burning, there’s now a beautiful painting. The scars are gone. The pain is gone. All that’s left is beauty and hope.

He doesn’t realize that tears are running down his cheek until she hands him a tissue. His first reaction is to wipe them away and pretend they weren’t there in the first place. A Hargrove man isn’t allowed to cry. Not in front of people anyway. Especially not in front of women. Hargrove men are bitter and numb. They’re stoic. Silent. Angry. Above all they’re sad.

But isn’t that the person he wants to leave behind?

So he lets himself feel it. Lets the tears fall as if it were nothing. 

Maybe this can be the next step into becoming the person he wishes so desperately he can be.

“I take it you like it?”

“I love it.”

And he hugs her. Pulls her close and tight as if he’s known her forever. She reciprocates the hug in no time. Softly oats him on the shoulder.

She smells like flowery perfume and clean cotton. Soft. Sweet. Intoxicating

“I can not thank you enough.”

“Billy, trust me this means as much to me as it does to you.”

He doesn’t disagree with her but he’s sure that’s not true. It means everything to him.

They talk for a little longer then he pays her, way too little if you ask him. She deserves way more and he suspects that some kind of personal sympathy plays into the price. But he’s not one to argue. Not when he’s sure he’ll come back. There are more scars. More pain. He’s not fixed but he’s at least a work in progress now.

She takes a few Polaroids of his tattoo, to put on her wall. To show people she can cover scars. Can help them. Help fix them. Make them feel less broken. 

“They’re burn scars.”

Billy finds himself sharing a piece of his story. One he’s kept so close to him, sometimes he almost wondered if it was true. But it is. And there are more reminders all over his body. It feels right to share it though. She helped him cover part of it, without judging. Without questions. She deserves to know.

“Huh?”

“My scars. They are burn scars.  Not — not from the outside but from the inside. Like fire going through my veins. I uh don’t know how to explain but that’s what they are. You can tell that to your clients. That you covered burn scars. That you’re that talented. “

For a moment she just stares at him, a deep sense of affection shining from her eyes. It’s comforting and nerve-wracking all at once. But he lets himself feel it. He promises himself to let himself feel the good things even if they seem scary.

“That’s … hey, would you like to grab some dinner with me? I could really go for a burger at the diner round here. It’s real good. “

And with the way she smiles, how the hell is he supposed to say no to that.

“Sounds good to me. Lead the way!”

The sun hangs low above the horizon almost dips behind the line to vanish and make room for the moon but not quite yet. They step out into the dawn, Bear pattering alongside them his leash grabbed tightly in (Y/N) hand. 

As hues of red and pink and orange surround them and dip the world into a golden haze, Billy feels like maybe this is the way. Maybe this is his path leading into a new future. With less pain. Fewer scars. More color and more smiles.

And maybe a beautiful and talented girl and a little dog by his side.

[l-loneybun]

♡ 2019 Art Summary + updates/plans for 2020

(25/01) sorry for the late update,, I meant to post this on the 1st,, but,, stuff happened;; u_u

TLDR: I’m going on hiatus. I’ll also be privating a lot of my posts here if they’re text posts, or art I just don’t like. I really want this blog to look like a proper portfolio for when I come back;; Probably won’t be back until May or even later,, might go fuq off to a new account just to see how well I can do on my own for a bit,, Ty for support + have a nice year~ _______________________________________________________________

*big sigh I have to rewrite a lot of this bc my computer died and I was to stupid to draft this before*

So basically, this year’s art summary is surprisingly better than last year’s. I didn’t really notice since I’ve actually been feelin p shit about my progress until I put this together. Definitely more variation in style compared to 2018 (can’t believe I said that “I got to experiment a lot” that year haha guess I was really grasping). The second half of this is pretty much just me going over my 2019 (not just art), so feel free to stop reading here!! Thanks for all the new support, I hope you all have a good 2020. _______________________________________________________________ This is just me really wanting to vent/express my thoughts somewhere, and I just find tumblr the most comfortable place to do that since it’s sort of more hidden and people don’t really read personal posts!! So here we gooooo

I can’t really remember most of January - April, just that I was really stressed about not finishing a portfolio for one of my classes hgjfkdls,, I also quit my job near the end of April since management changed for the worse;; Little did I know how it’s harder to get a job while unemployed,, (seriously what’s up with that?? I get that many people need to work 2+ jobs,, but I would like to live too;; qxq) So I gave up on looking for work, since I didn’t think anyone would want to hire me if I would be gone for over a month right in the middle of summer.

May - June consisted of trying to generate enough art pieces to meet my 1 piece per 5 days art schedule. I also started to fall out of the FE fandom while really getting in to Sonic again. I’m pretty sure I wanted to draw a lot of Pokemon and Zelda fanart as well,, but I was (and still am) at the point where I hate my human art, and being able to draw Sonic art — which I'm more comfortable with — was just much more appealing;; uxu I feel more familiar with these characters, and so many creative ideas just come to be (other than memes, like my FE stuff).

From August onward, though,, I just feel like things turned for the worse. I had (what I would assume was) my first panic attack during my exchange program. It’s feels so fucking pathetic that this would happen at 20 years old;; I thought I was so much better off compared to middle/high school when it came to keeping my anxiety in check, bu t guess not,, ahhahhahhahah,,,, and it wouldn’t be the only one this year;; :’)

I still wouldn’t have found a job after my return, but would still have enough money to pay off my first semester with some left over. Unfortunately, due to vet bills, I wouldn’t have enough to pay for a full course load for my second semester. This was also due to some poor planning on my part regarding commissions/adopts,, so oop;; I’m only taking one course this sem, so I’m looking for full-time work, but damn ! ! no job ! ! esp sucks since my mom is the only one paying for things atm;; soooo great

ugh;; I don’t want to talk about this anymore,, so I’ll just go onto plans/bucket list for 2020/2021, since I keep forgetting:: _______________________________________________________________

If you didn’t read the TLDR, basically I’m taking a break from all my art accounts and such. Even though I can see a lot of improval from 2018-2019, I’m still disappointed in my lack of anatomy/technical skills in my art, especially since I believe I told myself I would improve last year;; So I’m going to try avoid going online as much as possible since it’s really just too distracting,, I really want to dedicate all the time I have now to improving/adopting new skills, so my bucket list/new year’s resolutions for 2020 will be:

Improving human anatomy/developing a good artstyle for human art

Developing assets for RPG Maker XP games (???) (I actually forgot about the pkmn one I started in 2018 until I looked through my archive. I don’t think I’m actually going to make any playable games, just some nice things to look at.)

Learning how to use Blender + making many plant assets

Creating designs/inventory to sell at an anime convention for 2021

Saving up for a Canon EOS M50 Mirrorless Camera to document Artist Alley experience

Becoming ~ambidextrous~

That’s all I can remember for now, but I’m sure I’m forgetting some,,, um,, thanks if you read this for far?? I don’t really have much more to say;; ,,,,,, bye :x

[khaoticvex]

Just a reminder that I’ve been more active with art on my deviantArt and Instagram lately.

Altho not much lately, because school’s been kicking my ass with art assignments, I’m doing comms...or...just bein sad, in all honesty.

I haven’t really said much here but this...whole year has been hell. Found out a lot of bad news regarding finances and everything. I’ll do a little bullet list so you’re all updated lmfao

I went into debt in order to fix my mom's SUV in Jan and took out $500 from my pocket, plus did about...$700 in commissions. This car is my only form of transportation since I haven’t been able to take my truck out on the road (outside of neighborhoods) or even...practice driving it regularly (its a stick shift)

The SUV is $60 in gas every week to get to classes so that’s cool (when my truck would be like...$25)

My mom won’t stop fucking drinking. I’m so tired of her drinking. And dealing with it. 

Found out that the social security my mom, sister and I get from my dad passing away is being cut down this May from $2600 to $1300...and that 50% we’re losing is my MOMS portion, for some reason. We lose the other half when my sister, currently 16, turns 18

Rent is $1300

Yesterday I was told I might not qualify to work 20 hours and be cut down to 15, but I think that’s being handled...because it’s workstudy and it technically doesn’t make ANY sense. System glitch??

I’m president of my club since last semester so that’s a whole lot of socializing and expectations I’m handling but...sleep sounds nice

Someone close to me confessed abt their feelings and since then I’ve spiraled into a constant, DAILY, self-doubt about myself and my interest in relationships. Thought I was demi, but I can’t fucking...grasp IRL relationships and why they’re so amazing~~!!! So i think i might be ace but I keep doubting myself which is unfamiliar territory

I feel super attention-needy lately. Posting this feels super...needy...but I want to vent to no one in particular 

Going through another “I hate my art” kind of phase, or “I’m not improving enough” - does that happen when people praise me more abt my style??? is that a thing??

Ever since I got a bunch of bad news (suv, social security, the crush) I’ve shut down on socializing and feel like a terrible person

I also snapped at someone late last year who’s a pretty well-known artist on dA but is a shit person...and I’m afraid she’s going to call me out and bring up drama because that’s how she is

getting hard core deja vu or some shit with middle school and........things. I don’t like it.

I’m just so....tired

So now that my little vent is over...um. I’ll get around to posting art again here if I can, and hopefully, get out of this stupid depression ditch I’ve found myself in for two months straight. 

It’s not...all bad, though. I’ve been receiving a lot of commissions which is amazing and makes me emotional in a nice way <333 those are fun and help me. I’ve managed to make enough to pay for my bills over the summer so I can take a break! Breathe for a bit without homework due dates or socializing IRL. 

If you’re waiting for a comm...thank you for your patience. I’ll get to it soon <3

[sly-punk1712]

It started out as a joke. That’s how she usually got into this shit, joking around or not thinking things thru. It didn’t really matter, Darcy supposed. No one knew she could just toss it in the trash and no one would ever know. No harm, no foul. 

Her fingers swirled around the knob of the drawer she had shoved the stupid thing in absently. What to do? The phone rang and she jumped pulling the drawer out a little in her alarm. She grimaced and took a deep breath. 

“Coulson’s office, Gatekeeper speaking” She tried to be as chipper as she could hopefully whoever wanted to nag her about paperwork wouldn’t be able to tell the difference. Luck, as it would have, was not on her side. 

“Come here Gatekeeper and bring whatever’s in your top desk that’s keeping you from working” Coulson hung up before she could protest. She gingerly set the phone down and slide the slim envelope out of her desk clutching it tightly. She could probably just walk away. Maybe hide in the building? She’d never make it outside without being stopped, and being caught means surrendering proof of her idiocy to someone who may not be as forgiving and silent as Coulson. Then He’d know. Everyone would here about how she tried to flee rather than face a brief interrogation with Coulson. And even if she did manage to escape HQ she’d have to go on the run forever because she’d never wanted to answer the questions this would raise. SHIELD was far reaching she’d be on Interpol's most wanted in hours. 

Fess up in the privacy of Coulson’s level Billion secure office or life as an international fugitive?

“Now Agent!” Coulson’s voice floated out to her. Darcy cringed and stood. It could honestly go either way. “For the love of...!” He began.

“No! No I’m coming!” Darcy scurried to Coulson’s door looking carefully around before rushing threw locking the door behind her. Coulson raised a brow from his seat at the desk. He didn’t look at all like he’d been moving to drag her in for interrogation. Sneaky.

“Was that necessary?” He questioned without looking up from whatever form he was filling out. Darcy gulped but pressed further into the room taking a seat on the arm of the couch closest to him.  

“Yes. Actually I’d like to request we make this a B&R proof meeting.” Darcy rarely spoke SHIELD jargon and maybe that’s why Phil stopped working to look up at her. 

B&R proof rooms where office slang for Barton and Romanov, of course B&Ring a room usually just mean’t there would be a few hour delay before they knew someone was keeping things from them. but that would be enough for now. 

Coulson spun his chair around and tapped at his computer, a low hiss sounded for a few moments and then a soft beep meant all he could do had been done. He turned back to her expectantly. Darcy was being childish, air locking a room to avoid talking about one silly thing. Be that as it may, Darcy loved that Coulson was taking it seriously at her word.

“Let’s see it” He held his hand out gesturing to the envelope in her hand. Darcy pulled another face and hesitantly passed it over. Coulson impatiently swiped it and thumbed open the side she’d yet to seal shut. 

“It was a joke and then suddenly I’d bought it and signed it and now I feel like a weirdo. What if he’s really freaked out and never talks to me again? I mean that’s totally creepy right? I was just thinking about when he rescued drunk me that first weekend in New York and that time he worked on my car and the thing with Ian.” She took a huge breath. “ Then I was scared to leave it at home because He comes over unannounced a lot and I was trying to decided how to throw it out. I’m honestly so stupid.” Darcy rushes out hiding her flushed face in her hand as Coulson read the brief card. He closed it carefully and looked at her. 

“I don’t think you’re stupid Darcy” He said softly. “It was sweet” 

“It’s gross and emotional and he’s never gonna talk to me again if he sees it. I honestly have no idea what I’m going to do” She groans. Coulson shrugs and reaches into his desk to pull out a form she knows too well. 

“Nooo, Phil isn’t my life terrible enough?” She begs falling dramatically over the arms and into the sofa. He shakes his head and pulls a different pen out of his desk. He fills all his paperwork out in boring blues and blacks but Phil keeps the every colour under the sun gel pens Darcy had bought him (also as a joke) in his desk and he likes to update files by color coding them. The pens he usually uses for Darcy are green but he pulls out a purple one, because it’s about Clint. 

“Darcy Lewis, Pros and Cons, regarding Hawkeye, June 16th” He dictates. Darcy throws an arm over her face but doesn’t protest. 

“Okay Pro” He says looking expectantly at her. 

“It’s nice?” He rolls his eyes but writes it anyway, scrawling loopy  scribbles under pro. 

“Con”

“Eternal embarrassment”

“Facing you emotions” He corrects. “Pro?”

“I won’t be wasting the dollar fifty I spent on the damn thing?” 

He doesn’t correct just scribbles. 

“Con?” 

“He may hate me” 

“Rejection, That’s underlined, I think it’s your biggest fear” He says his pen makes the sounds that say he really has underlined it. Fucking Nerd, she thinks in a voice that sounds like Clint.

“Pro?” 

“Now I’ve acknowledged it to myself, giving him the damn thing will get this off my chest.” She admits, the safety of Coulson’s office and her closed eyes allowing her a moment to be brave.

“Facing your emotions,” He says dryly. “The plot thickens”

Before he can ask for another Con there’s a knock on the door. Well a knock is putting it politely, It’s really some asshole pounding on the door. 

“WHAT THE FUCK PHIL DID YOU B&R YOUR OFFICE!?!?!?!” A muffled voice drifts into the room. Ah that Asshole. Phil looks guilty and Darcy doesn’t know if it’s for locking it down or for getting her busted. There is no escape. The vents are even sealed during these locks. 

“PUT YOUR DICK AWAY I’M BREAKING IN” He shouts. Darcy leaps up from her spot on the sofa and snatched the pro con sheet crumpling it in her pocket before cramming the damning thing back in its envelope. She’s licked the seal right as the door gives a groan and swings open air rushing out. Clint talks in and slams the door behind him. He stops at the sight of Darcy. His eyes narrow and he looks between the two. 

“I’m so against this” He says simple crossing his arms. “I thought you’d know better than to seduce him at work Darce” He shakes his head. The jokes are to make light at his confusions. Why is she in here?

“I... uh... Got this for you” She launches the envelope as if it were a ninja star across the office. Clint snatches it easily from the air and arches a brow. He and Coulson hang out too much. 

He rips it open ungracefully and Darcy’s breath hitches as her heart thuds wildly in her chest. She can feel Coulson’s eyes on her and no doubt Clint’s even as he scans the words.

“Thanks?” He reads in confusion before opening it. Darcy’s face burns but Clint doesn’t read the inside out loud thank Thor.

He doesn’t need to Darcy knows just what it says: 

                Thanks for stepping up because my real dad’s a twat.

and she had printed under that. 

                I didn’t know what the hype was about til I met you. Love you Dee

Clint hasn’t moved. He hasn’t awkwardly told her thanks but don’t contact him anymore, so that’s good, right? 

Thankfully Clint crosses the room in two quick strides and gathers her to him in a breath stealingly tight hug. Darcy sighs and clutches his backs keeping him wrapped around her. He’s warm and smells like smoke and home. She remembers him coming to pick her up her first week. Remembers him rolling out from under her car with that cheeky smile. Remembers him juggling the ice creams he brought to her after Ian. How could she have thought this was a bad plan?

“That’s what was B&R worthy?” A voice interrupts. Clint pulls back a little and Darcy flushes seeing Natasha perched on Coulson’s desk reading the card. 

“What did you think it was?” Darcy asked looking up at Clint. His cheeks pinked a little. 

“He was serious when he thought you and Phil were banging.” Nat sniggers. Coulson blushes a little dispute his calm face. “I thought we were finally being disappeared to the bottom of the ocean” She shrugs,

“Well that doesn’t sound like an entirely bad Idea” Coulson glowers. Darcy grins. 

“Ohh Get the Sparkly Red Natasha pen and we can use the back of my Pro Con sheet!” Darcy attempt to smooth the page on the edge of Coulson’s desk. 

“You made a pro con sheet for giving me this card?” Clint looks indignant. 

“Fucking Nerd” Clint and Natasha chime.

“Shit like that is why B&R exists” Darcy pouts.

“You have no idea” Phil agrees reaching for the Sparkly Red Natasha pen as requested.

“I love you Darce” Clint says lowly to her while Phil and Natasha bicker about the color of her gel pen. Darcy nods. She knows. He doesn’t have to say, the things he does show her. 

“I’ve never celebrated this holiday” Darcy admits. Clint beams. 

“Me neither, if it counts I think you’d be a good dad too.” He grins. Darcy snorts.

“Thanks, I think, Happy Father’s Day, Clint” 

[effervescentmind]

Entry 20: 07.25.19 @ 2:43 p.m.

I’m home sitting at the bar top.

So, I’m still not done writing my first emotional vent because it gets hard to finish. I write a little and then get angry with myself because of the amount of shit I allowed to happen in my life. It’s still a sore subject for me. I’m going to keep pushing and writing a little every couple of days until it’s done. For now I felt like warming up with an update. 

My ex, the one I moved to Texas with, recently hit me up. First, it was his sister-in-law that contacted me. She texted me asking about life and making small talk. I felt like this was a sign that I would soon hear from him and alas I did just a week later. He created a tumblr and sent me a message (different account than this one) saying that he thinks about me and feels bad about how he brought me here only to have me alone etc. He also said that he loves me and is still going to be there for me if I ever need anything. Of course i dont believe any of this crap because actions speak louder than words. I didnt reply to him and I went into my settings so that he couldn’t see if I was ever active. He then messaged me again saying that he also had some mail for me. So I bit and told him I didnt know what to say and asked if he could bring my letters the next time he was on my side of town. I wont waste with too many details but he agreed and then started feeling me out. Looking for answers he obviously wanted about me. He claimed that he saw me with another man and sees that I’m happier without him. (Insert puke sound here) I rolled my eyes because I knew what he was doing. I myself have not been with anyone in public since I kicked him out of my life. I gave him his answer in the same round about way he was asking. He then talked and acted like he was very concerned about how I’ve been living and interested in my wellbeing. I allowed it and then asked him about his. He gave me his sob story about how he’s been in and out of the hospital the last few weeks for inflammation in his head. I asked him how it happened and he told me exactly what I suspected: his drug/alcohol abuse. All I could do was pretend to care while at the same time resist telling him how stupid he was and how he deserves it for all the times I told him to change his habits and he fought me about it. I didn’t say any of it though. Anyway we eventually got back around to the subject of my mail and he told me he would bring it by after work in two days. That day was yesterday and he got off around 4. I know this because he told me he had about 20 pieces but could only find “…two right now.” and that he would still bring them if I wanted. Of course, I knew this meant that he got off work and now wants to go do something else with someone else and doesnt feel like driving over to me. I questioned how old the last letter was and he only told me what kind of letter it was….so I told him to bring them. He said ok and ignored me until 10 pm. During those six hours, i sent him two messages regarding his arrival and then finally told him to just leave it outside my door at his earliest convience. I was so annoyed because this was just like him. He always says hes going to do something (A task he came up with that NOBODY asked him to do!!!) and then at the last minute, doesnt come through. I texted his sister-in-law and asked her when the last letter for me was recieved so that I could gage if it was worth recieving. She told me she didnt know and that “last time I checked, he told me he throws them away.” OF COURSE HE DOES. It sounds just like him and for him to just randomly mention mail as a last resort to get a response from me…and to say that he had twenty but could only find two. He was finally talking to me and now he feels guilty that he did that shit out of anger. Ugh, he made me sick. He is still the manipulative, lying piece-of-shit I left. I was glad I had already told him to just leave the letters outside, I knew it was a game and waste of time. He messaged me an hour after. Saying he would get off work in an hour and a half..A FAT FUCKING LIE. I didnt even point out his bullshit that was so clearly laid out in the preceding text. Then he passive aggressively mentions how he guesses he will leave it in front of my door. Then I replied in the same manner that he could do whatever he wanted, I was home. He said ok and my next thought was that he would show up at my door, showered and in comfortable clothes and not work clothes. Two hours later, he did exactly that smh. I knew him too well, he is such a bullshitter. He had gained weight too, Alot of weight. He looked at me for a moment and bashfully looked away, not saying anything and handing me my letters. I grabbed them and he immediately started walking away. “Bye”, I said and he mumbled it back without a falter in his pace. I knew this game too. He wanted me to chase him. I didn’t and had no desire to. I also wasn’t going to message him either because I knew he was waiting for it too. He messaged me twenty minutes later saying how it was nice seeing me and seeing that I was doing well. What a stupid thing to say. We didn’t speak and he hardly looked at me. “Did you see me? You ran off…”. “Yeah I did just had my coworker in the car had to take him home”. A lie to excuse his cowardice. I closed the conversation, “ It’s all good” and left it at that. 

I’m pretty sure with him, he wants to show his interest and hope that he gives me the least amount of energy to get me back in his world. I’m no fool, I know him better than he knows himself and I know my worth. I REFUSE to be involved with an unreliable, manipulative, lying, selfish, narc like him again. He wont be a problem unless I allow him to be, unless I give him permission by continuing interaction and being friendly. I will not. I will not talk to him, I will not entertain him, or invite him into my apartment, or tell him about my personal life. He had a plethora of time and chances with me that he did not take advantage of…well…in a positive way. He surely took advantage of me and my emotions/affections for his own personal gain. Ugh, he’s a sick and fucked up individual and a cancerous mass in my life. I cut him out and will not let him back in. I WILL NOT.

[loveismyreligionom]

Entry 20: 07.25.19 @ 2:43 p.m.

I’m home sitting at the bar top.

So, I’m still not done writing my first emotional vent because it gets hard to finish. I write a little and then get angry with myself because of the amount of shit I allowed to happen in my life. It’s still a sore subject for me. I’m going to keep pushing and writing a little every couple of days until it’s done. For now I felt like warming up with an update. 

My ex, the one I moved to Texas with, recently hit me up. First, it was his sister-in-law that contacted me. She texted me asking about life and making small talk. I felt like this was a sign that I would soon hear from him and alas I did just a week later. He created a tumblr and sent me a message (different account than this one) saying that he thinks about me and feels bad about how he brought me here only to have me alone etc. He also said that he loves me and is still going to be there for me if I ever need anything. Of course i dont believe any of this crap because actions speak louder than words. I didnt reply to him and I went into my settings so that he couldn’t see if I was ever active. He then messaged me again saying that he also had some mail for me. So I bit and told him I didnt know what to say and asked if he could bring my letters the next time he was on my side of town. I wont waste with too many details but he agreed and then started feeling me out. Looking for answers he obviously wanted about me. He claimed that he saw me with another man and sees that I’m happier without him. (Insert puke sound here) I rolled my eyes because I knew what he was doing. I myself have not been with anyone in public since I kicked him out of my life. I gave him his answer in the same round about way he was asking. He then talked and acted like he was very concerned about how I’ve been living and interested in my wellbeing. I allowed it and then asked him about his. He gave me his sob story about how he’s been in and out of the hospital the last few weeks for inflammation in his head. I asked him how it happened and he told me exactly what I suspected: his drug/alcohol abuse. All I could do was pretend to care while at the same time resist telling him how stupid he was and how he deserves it for all the times I told him to change his habits and he fought me about it. I didn’t say any of it though. Anyway we eventually got back around to the subject of my mail and he told me he would bring it by after work in two days. That day was yesterday and he got off around 4. I know this because he told me he had about 20 pieces but could only find “...two right now.” and that he would still bring them if I wanted. Of course, I knew this meant that he got off work and now wants to go do something else with someone else and doesnt feel like driving over to me. I questioned how old the last letter was and he only told me what kind of letter it was....so I told him to bring them. He said ok and ignored me until 10 pm. During those six hours, i sent him two messages regarding his arrival and then finally told him to just leave it outside my door at his earliest convience. I was so annoyed because this was just like him. He always says hes going to do something (A task he came up with that NOBODY asked him to do!!!) and then at the last minute, doesnt come through. I texted his sister-in-law and asked her when the last letter for me was recieved so that I could gage if it was worth recieving. She told me she didnt know and that “last time I checked, he told me he throws them away.” OF COURSE HE DOES. It sounds just like him and for him to just randomly mention mail as a last resort to get a response from me...and to say that he had twenty but could only find two. He was finally talking to me and now he feels guilty that he did that shit out of anger. Ugh, he made me sick. He is still the manipulative, lying piece-of-shit I left. I was glad I had already told him to just leave the letters outside, I knew it was a game and waste of time. He messaged me an hour after. Saying he would get off work in an hour and a half..A FAT FUCKING LIE. I didnt even point out his bullshit that was so clearly laid out in the preceding text. Then he passive aggressively mentions how he guesses he will leave it in front of my door. Then I replied in the same manner that he could do whatever he wanted, I was home. He said ok and my next thought was that he would show up at my door, showered and in comfortable clothes and not work clothes. Two hours later, he did exactly that smh. I knew him too well, he is such a bullshitter. He had gained weight too, Alot of weight. He looked at me for a moment and bashfully looked away, not saying anything and handing me my letters. I grabbed them and he immediately started walking away. “Bye”, I said and he mumbled it back without a falter in his pace. I knew this game too. He wanted me to chase him. I didn’t and had no desire to. I also wasn’t going to message him either because I knew he was waiting for it too. He messaged me twenty minutes later saying how it was nice seeing me and seeing that I was doing well. What a stupid thing to say. We didn’t speak and he hardly looked at me. “Did you see me? You ran off...”. “Yeah I did just had my coworker in the car had to take him home”. A lie to excuse his cowardice. I closed the conversation, “ It’s all good” and left it at that. 

I’m pretty sure with him, he wants to show his interest and hope that he gives me the least amount of energy to get me back in his world. I’m no fool, I know him better than he knows himself and I know my worth. I REFUSE to be involved with an unreliable, manipulative, lying, selfish, narc like him again. He wont be a problem unless I allow him to be, unless I give him permission by continuing interaction and being friendly. I will not. I will not talk to him, I will not entertain him, or invite him into my apartment, or tell him about my personal life. He had a plethora of time and chances with me that he did not take advantage of...well...in a positive way. He surely took advantage of me and my emotions/affections for his own personal gain. Ugh, he’s a sick and fucked up individual and a cancerous mass in my life. I cut him out and will not let him back in. I WILL NOT.