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aion-rsa · 3 years

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Midnight Mass: It’s Time to Talk About That Monstrous Twist

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This article contains huge spoilers for Midnight Mass. So help me God if you read this without watching the series first…

The version of Midnight Mass that Netflix advertised still would have made for a compelling horror series.

An isolated, insular island community? Great. A young, charismatic preacher suddenly coming to town to shake things up? Perfect. That preacher proving capable of performing minor miracles? Love it, no notes!

Of course, as viewers who have watched at least four episodes of the seven-episode series now know, Midnight Mass has one extra supernatural twist in mind that elevates an already interesting story to true mind-blowing status. Critics were understandably asked to keep this aspect of the show a secret before it premiered. So please indulge me as I finally slay these embargo demons and get it off my chest.

Vampires. Vampires! V-A-M-P-I-R-E-S. VAMPIRES! VAMPIRES VAMPIRES VAMPIRES! Literally like Dracula. And Nosferatu. Anne Rice’s Lestat. Stephen King’s ‘Salem’s Lot. Vampires. VAMPIRES, BRO, VAMPIRES.

For creator Mike Flanagan, a filmmaker influenced by all manner of classic horror, bringing the fanged bloodsuckers to life was a long time coming.

“My favorite vampire movie is (Werner) Herzog’s Nosferatu,” Flanagan told Den of Geek and other outlets prior to the premiere of Midnight Mass. “That film is the vampire story as high art. I also adore From Dusk Till Dawn. I read Dracula young enough for it to really burrow in for me. And I read ‘Salem’s Lot early enough to color an enormous amount of work that I’ll do for the rest of my life.”

Midnight Mass’s depiction of the mythological undead beast and how it can neatly fit into Christian dogma is one of the most satisfying horror twists in years. Now that the truth is out, let’s discuss Midnight Mass and how it conflates vampires and biblical angels.

Mistaking a Vampire for an Angel

The interesting thing about Midnight Mass is that it clearly takes place in a universe where the average person has no knowledge of what a vampire is. Even Sarah Gunning (Annabeth Gish), arguably the most well-read person on Crockett Island, has to do some research into “porphyria cutanea tarda” (a.k.a. the real life “vampire disease”). This is similar to The Walking Dead’s approach to zombies, in which the “z” word and George A. Romero’s name are never spoken. This strategy in Midnight Mass allows for a truly fascinating case of mistaken identity.

While viewers immediately know that the creature Monsignor John Pruitt (Hamish Linklater) encounters is a vampire, he believes it to be an angel. Given how studied Pruitt is in the Bible and Cathloic theology, it’s entirely understandable why he would think a tall, muscular, bald-headed beast with fangs and leathery wings is an angel. As it turns out, the angels of the Old Testament can be truly terrifying.

Not all angels are soft-featured human-like creatures with fluffy white bird wings. Some, like Seraphim, Cherubim, and Thrones are designed to intimidate God’s enemies. In the New Testament’s Book of Luke, an angel visits Zechariah and immediately asks him to “be not afraid” because the angel can see the poor guy absolutely shaking in his boots upon his arrival. Angels being terrifying is even something of an Internet meme, with users contrasting the phrase “be not afraid” with images of truly monstrous beasts.

Not only does Pruitt’s vampire have the vague appearance of an angel, it also apparently holds the secrets to eternal life as promised in the Bible. By merely drinking some of the “angel’s” blood, a good Christian can live forever just like God says. Does that blood-drinking sacrament sound familiar? It did to Mike Flanagan.

“In Bible school I used to say ‘if the wine turns into Jesus’s blood literally and we’re drinking it so that we can live forever … that seems like a short leap to vampiric myth.’”

Of course, drinking the angel’s fluids in the case of Midnight Mass also leads to some unwanted side effects like a thirst for blood and extreme sensitivity to sunlight. Thankfully, good ol’ Bev Keane always has a Bible quote ready to go for that. When read through the proper perspective, the Holy Bible may as well be the original vampire story.

The Rules of Vampirism

“The thing that I love about the vampire as a cinematic tool is how malleable it is,” Flanagan says. “We all agree that there is no canon. There are no rules. In fact, part of the joy is seeing what rules people cherry pick as they approach a vampire story.”

All depictions of vampires are indeed quite different. Vampires can range from the classic Stoker-ian monster to Twilight’s nigh-invulnerable sparkle bois. Midnight Mass’s version of the vampire leans towards the classic, albeit with some tweaks. In terms of appearance, The Angel (as we will be calling Midnight Mass’s O.G. vampire for simplicity’s sake) has a more bestial look like Nosferatu rather than an aristocratic one like Count Dracula or Anne Rice’s creations.

“We winked at (Nosferatu the Vampyr actor) Klaus Kinski a few times when we designed our guy,” Flanagan says.

Though the Angel resembles Nosferatu in appearance, its vulnerabilities owe more to Rice’s The Vampire Chronicles. Religious iconography does not appear to hurt the Angel nor its thralls. Traditional human weapons like bullets or blades also do no harm (at least not mortally). These vampires are, however, tremendously susceptible to both fire and sunlight. Exposure to the latter for even a few seconds is enough to kill the Angel and his many acolytes.

Why Midnight Mass is Mike Flanagan’s Most Personal Work

By Alec Bojalad

Midnight Mass Cast: Previous Credits From Hill House to Bly Manor, Legion & Sherlock

By Louisa Mellor

Like in Rice’s works as well, the path to creating a new vampire is quite simple. Step 1: Drink its blood. Step 2: Die. In Dracula and ‘Salem’s Lot, the method of vampire creation is merely being bit by one, zombie-style. Rice and Flanagan’s approach is quite a bit more intentional and interesting. It also opens the door for perhaps Midnight Mass’s most ingenious storytelling quirk: communion. John Pruitt is able to get nearly the entirety of Crockett Island to become a vampire by spiking the communion wine with his buddy’s blood. Then, all that remains is for them to poison themselves to death, Jonestown-style.

The mass “resurrection” scene in which the congregation awakes as their new vampire selves also provides some insight to just how hard it is to contain the vampire’s overwhelming hunger. Riley Flynn was able to resist it when he turned because John Pruitt babysat him like a psychedelic mushroom guide. The plan for the rest of the congregation was to have their babysitters as well but that didn’t quite work out. Still, Riley’s dad Ed makes it clear to his wife Annie, that even if it’s hard to resist the call for blood, it’s not impossible.

“When I saw them at the church, I thought it was something they really couldn’t help. Like something impossible not to do. But it isn’t, Annie,” he says.

Maybe if more vampires were like Ed Flynn, a whole island full of vampires wouldn’t be too bad of a thing in the first place.

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How to Defeat a Vampire

While every vampire story presents its own unique take on the creature, the answer on how to defeat a vampire is usually the same: by doing it together.

“We poor humans only have so much that we can give,” Flanagan says. “We’re ill-equipped as individuals to make any kind of meaningful stand. The only way evil in the world can be brought down is through collective effort. That’s something Stoker understands inherently. It’s clearly something King understands.”

Alongside the aforementioned Bram Stoker and Stephen King, Flanagan presents a small team of humans at story’s end who will do what it takes to defeat evil, even if it means dying in the process. Erin Greene (Kate Siegel), Dr. Sarah Gunning, Sheriff Hassan (Rahul Kohli), Annie Flynn (Kristin Lehman), Warren Flynn (Igby Rigney), and Leeza Scarborough (Annarah Cymone) are the six residents of Crockett Island brave enough to try to take down the Angel. All but two (Warren and Leeza) die. They do succeed in eliminating the immediate threat on Crockett Island but it’s possible the Angel made it away to suck blood another day, damaged wings and all.

What’s interesting about Midnight Mass’s “final crew” is that six appears to be the magic number when it comes to taking down a vampire. Stoker’s Dracula has six heroes: Jonathan Harker, Mina Harker nèe Murray, Arthur Holmwood (Lord Godalming), John Seward, Quincey Morris, and Abraham Van Helsing (of which, only poor American cowboy Quincey Morris dies). King’s ‘Salem’s Lot also has six: Ben Mears, Matt Burke, Susan Norton, Mark Petrie, Jimmy Cody, and Father Callahan (of which, decidedly more than one of them die). This strange bit of arithmancy is something we asked Flanagan about.

“The number was certainly not intentional,” he says. “Once it was clear that Riley was not going to be carrying the torch to the end it really was about asking ‘who are the characters who seem in the very beginning to be at a disadvantage and how do we empower them in the end?’ This was gonna be played out by Sarah Gunning, Sheriff Hassan, and everyone else who would get to just give a little piece.”

Considering that Erin and company were outnumbered about 117 to six, it was a pretty good showing for Crockett Island’s last humans standing.

All seven episodes of Midnight Mass are available to stream on Netflix now.

The post Midnight Mass: It’s Time to Talk About That Monstrous Twist appeared first on Den of Geek.

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meeedeee · 4 years

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Here is a list of fan-run, professional and semi-professional virtual conventions for the rest of 2020. This is not a comprehensive list, feel free to drop a link below (Name; URL; dates; type; whether the event is free or charges a fee)

https://tinyurl.com/virtual-cons

https://docs.google.com/document/d/1vLyi3qcuOUZGcPKWd0PF4mTtYNlpEbgmjhQtR1sHKv8/edit

I am also posting a recent essay about the history of virtual conventions written by Claudia Rebaza with her permission

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Many fan conventions aren’t being held this year but some are going virtual. Surprise – this isn’t actually new!

by Claudia Rebaza

Pandemic restrictions have meant that many events are moving to some kind of online equivalent, but fan conventions have offered online alternatives for a very long time. What’s more, conventions have only been one type of activity fans can take part in online with other fans.

Although numbers are hard to agree on, there’s little doubt that fan conventions have never been more popular. But while it’s possible to find a fan gathering in most cities (or even on the ocean!), there are still barriers that keep many people from participating. Whether it’s because of high costs, difficult travel schedules, physical disabilities, or social anxiety, many people have found themselves on the outside when it comes to fandom events. However fans have always been inventive, so the virtual convention developed decades ago. These virtual cons might mean:

an entire convention held online

live streaming of a physical gathering

activities taking place online at the same time as other fans were meeting in person

The 2000s Say Hello

Yuri Con began in 2000 not as an in-person gathering, but an online fan community. A few years later it sponsored a three-day anime and manga convention in Newark, NJ. The convention brought together fans of Yuri with panels, an academic lecture series, games, vendors and video programming. This was similar to FemSlash Con, which ran from 2012-2017.

Femslash, which is art, fiction and more involving female/female romantic pairings, was celebrated with panels for different TV shows as well as workshops for the creation of fanworks.

In the UK, VidUKon has been held since 2008. The convention focuses on the making and sharing of a style of fan videos called vidding, and features showings, panels, and workshops. People who can’t attend can still follow along with events through the use of convention memberships, which allow access to real time streaming as well as access to content after the convention ends.

But if an event isn’t online or doesn’t offer access to drop into the in-person event, there’s a third option. For example, the Starsky & Hutch fandom's Share Con began in the 1980s and is now held every other year. Like many conventions it has a mailing list and a Facebook group, but some fans also held a Virtual ShareCon from 2012-2016. The virtual con was a side event that took place at the same time as the physical gathering for people who couldn’t meet up in person. At the virtual con, members met at a community on LiveJournal, with an organizer making posts and people commenting. They watched an episode of the show together, watched fan videos together, played a trivia game, had panel discussions, and had a drawing for prizes. Attendees also contributed to the creation of a virtual goody bag with pictures of Starsky & Hutch items.

Virtual con attendees also used the opportunity to prompt one another to create fan art and fanfiction in what has become a common practice among fans – the challenge or fest.

Challenges and fests

Given that not all convention activities are free, and many a fan is having a particularly hard time economically this year, there are fan events that don’t cost a thing. They do, however, require some time and creativity. A fanworks challenge or fest, is an organized event that prompts participants to create fanworks. These events can take many forms, one of which is the “challenge” where people create fanworks to fit certain criteria, or an “exchange” where people create fanworks to order for one another. The fandom wiki Fanlore lists nearly 800 entries on fests that have been held for a wide variety of fandoms over the decades, with many more out there.

The fest is a typical option for a virtual con, so that fans who are not going to an in-person gathering can celebrate as well. In some cases people sign up ahead of time to create fiction, art, videos or other fanworks to share on an assigned day. In others, people respond randomly to prompts from the fest organizers or other participants in a more game-like activity. But in the case of a virtual con, the fest is important for both keeping people engaged, as well as producing new content that outlasts the few days during which the con is held. That way the benefits can be shared with people who couldn’t attend the virtual con due to its timing.

Sometimes virtual con events are held at the Archive of Our Own which includes a feature for fanwork collections and tools for creating specific types of fests. Some virtual convention contributions that can be found on the site include fanworks for Due South, The Closer, Shadowhunters, Game of Thrones, Highlander, and the K-pop group B.A.P.

The con on your laptop

With large public gatherings prohibited almost everywhere, many fan conventions have been cancelled or postponed, including the mega-popular San Diego Comic Con. But other organizers and fans alike are still trying to keep fan activities going. As a result some events are still being held, only online, and sometimes at no charge.

May saw Balticon 54, WisCONline/WisCON 44, Con Carolinas, and the 2020 Nebula Conference go virtual. July will see more taking place from smaller events such as CON.TXT 2020 (free) on July 24-26, to major cons like CoNZealand (WorldCon 78), host of the Hugo Awards, on July 29-August 2. Just as with the early virtual cons, these events will adapt activities to online space, and not just for panels and vendor rooms. In the past many fans have paid to shake hands with their favorite artists, writers, or actors in quick meet-and-greets, photo or autograph sessions. Some events are shifting these bookings to one-on-one video chats, where each person has a few minutes in which to spend some face time with those celebrities.

What about next year?

Researcher Dr. Naomi Jacobs published an article on virtual conventions in 2018. Discussing the future of such events, she said “I think that as the barriers between online and offline fandom become more fluid, and as technology improves, we might see new ways that conventions become digital spaces as well as physical ones. Conventions are about fans coming together to share experiences, to ‘convene’, and it is no longer the case that this has to involve a face to face meeting.”

Jacobs studied fans’ experiences at Supernatural conventions and found that, while most of them preferred meeting in person, there were various reasons why virtual attendance was important. For some fans who go to many conventions a year, attending them is a part of one’s social activities and a way of staying up to date on happenings in their community. Jacobs said, “Being part of the digital space during a convention seemed to be almost as important as being at the event, particularly because there were so many conventions each year and many people attend several, but very few could go to them all.”

For fans whose favorite part of attending a convention is meeting celebrities, a virtual con might not seem like much of an alternative. But for many fans, the principal draws of a convention might be interacting with other fans, shopping, or sharing information about their fandom interests through meet ups or attending panel discussions, all things that could be done in other ways. There are many conventions whose principal draw is activities rather than celebrity guests – although even celebrity appearances will be going virtual in some cases.

For example, one staple of conventions that has become a central part of many fans’ experience is cosplay. While you’d think that this kind of fanwork would be something missing at a virtual con, being online doesn’t have to be a barrier to sharing one’s costuming skills. A lot of cosplay experience has already gone virtual. For example, in 2015 Nicolle Lamerichs wrote about the rising popularity of cosplay music videos (CMV) which are created and shared after the event. In discussing common factors for the videos, Lamerichs notes that “the videos are usually shot at the fan convention and are also a means of preserving the performances and making them accessible to a wider audience.” The practice has developed to the point that “some CMVs are also fan works in their own right."

Is it for you?

While the virtual con may not replace the experience of an in-person gathering for the majority of fans, it does address the importance of these events for both specific fandoms as well as fans as a whole. When writer/producer Alison Zeidman wrote that comic books changed her life, the examples she gave were of personal experiences surrounding comic books, such as attending a fan convention. "At Wondercon, I was the most relaxed I’ve been in years, but it was also so incredibly creatively stimulating and inspiring. And I realized that how I felt on that exhibition floor is how I want to feel every day of my life: constantly learning, seeking out new experiences and meeting new people — whether or not they’re dressed in a custom-made Captain Marvel uniform.” Whether in-person or online, many fans share that feeling.

#convention #fan convention #fan con

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franeridart · 4 years

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Anon said: How are you just like "Oh these are just some warm up sketches" and post a full finished piece, while I'm over here sketching a triangle person and calling it a finished piece.

I dunno if this was a legit question asking for a legit answer, but I do happen to have a legit answer so I might as well give it! If I wanted to go into detals with it it’d take me forever though, so allow me to separate it into two points to make it easier

I learnt how to be very fast in putting down my lines and trained myself into not overthinking every single dot I put down. This took about five or six years of drawing daily and a whole life of drawing occasionally before then, because to do so you need to reach a point where you’re drawing something you’ve drawn so many times that by now your hand sort of goes without you needing to think about it much, so it’s not a fast process, but boy is it worth it. Mostly learning how to not overthink it, overthinking it used to be 90% of my time spent on a drawing and dear god did it suck the joy out of everything I drew

I have two very distinctive ways of approaching a drawing, one where I actually put effort in it and the other where I just want to let the squiggles out of my pen, and warm ups are the second one - the lack of effort I’m putting in can have different forms and show in different ways, so a warm up could be a fully colored piece as it could be just a pencil doodle, depending on where and on what exactly I’m being lazy: it could be the type of tool I’m using that allows me to draw without having to line, it could be a very tiny canvas that lets me avoid a ton of details a big canvas would demand. I might be cutting the time I usually put in making sure my anatomy is correct, I might be using a shading technique that takes a tenth of the time my usual one would, I might be using a style that’s just easier and faster to draw, or drawing characters I’ve drawn a trillion times in extremely generic poses and clothes. There’s a lot of things that I can do to make things faster for me! It’s skills you gain as you draw a lot - you learn how to draw things the hard way, and then you realize that along the way you learnt how to do them the easy way too

hope this actually answers your question! If it was a question at all lol if it wasn’t then sorry for rambling, please pretend I didn’t say anything hahaha

Anon said: I love your newest comic!!! So adorable!! I noticed Bakugou's mom does the affectionate hair rustle thing to him in the manga/anime, do you think Bakugou subconsciously does the same to show affection cause of it? I love the way you draw faces and poses, it's so expressive!!

Ahhhhh thank you so much!!! And yeah, it might be! After all we do take a lot from the people we live with even without realizing, and he’s already so similar to his mom!

Anon said: I saw your bakushima comic from October 9th (2019) where Bakugo falls asleep studying and Kirishima sets him down on the table properly and it was so soft my heart is crying

;;;;; !!!!!!!! I’m glad you liked it!! <3<3

Anon said: If it not to much, could I possibly get a Ochamina doodle pls? I just love some sweet lesbeans 👉👈

Awww I’m not taking requests right now, but I’ll keep it in mind for next time I want to doodle and don’t know what!

Anon said: I love your art! I envy you.

Please don’t! There’s a lot of reasons why being me isn’t a lot of fun - if it’s just my skill you envy, then all you gotta do is draw a lot!

Anon said: i just went through your entire kiribaku tag and omg it was beautiful seeing the progression in your art skills but still keeping the same funny/cute/heartwarming/etc traits you thought up for their dynamic!! i hope that makes sense haha !! love your art keep it up

It does make sense!!! Thank you so much both for looking through the whole tag and for thinking so, it means a lot to me!! ;;; <3<3

Anon said: Hey fran! I hope you're doing well(especially with quarantine and all)!! I really love your anatomy and how fluid and stylistic it can be! It's super fun to look at! I wanted to ask you if you ever did any in depth studies on anatomy? Like muscles and bones. I've heard a lot of artists mention the necessity of studying bones/muscles, i'd really like to know your opinion on the subject

Ahhh god thank you so much!! And... hmm let’s see if I can word this properly and have it make sense - always keeping in mind that this is just my opinion, of course!

If all you want to do is to draw, then all you need to do is to pick up your pencil and draw - it’s really that easy as far as I’m concerned. You don’t need to know anatomy in depth to just draw, everyone has seen a person, everyone knows how a person looks. That is, if all you want to do is to draw for the sake of drawing. If you want to draw an anatomically correct looking human being, though, you do need to know how anatomy works - and the deeper you’ll go into studying it the more correct your people will look. It’s kind how everyone can draw a bicycle, but if you want to draw a realistic bicycle you’re gonna need to look up references for it, you know? It’s all on the level at which you’re interested in drawing, the more technically skilled you want to be the more you’ll have to study

As for my personal experience with this, I hate studying with a passion. Studying puts a damper on my enjoyement of everything, and drawing isn’t excluded from this - you put a book in front of me expecting me to study it and suddenly I never want to pick up a pencil again. This means that I never sat down and studied anatomy in depth and all in one go just to learn how to draw a human being, but it doesn’t mean that I didn’t, slowly and now and again and in bits and pieces, study parts of the body to get a better understanding of it. I know better about the skeleton than I do about muscles, and I still have enough to learn about everything that anyone who’s studied anatomy properly would find a trillion mistakes in everything I draw, but my way of going about drawing has always been and always will be putting my enjoyement of it first and foremost, so I’m not interested in putting myself through a tour-de-force to learn everything there is to know about anatomy just to make my doodles look appealing to someone with a medical degree haha I’m just doing me, and when the mood is right I look up how to properly draw something, but until then I just do it as best as I can with my limited knowledge, being fully aware that what I’m producing is far from accurate but being willing to make that compromise for my own comfort

So that’s my opinion on it lol it all boils down to how important it is for you to know how to properly draw the human body - of course it’s gonna look more professional and better if you’ve studied it, but everyone has their own priorities, you know?

Anon said: Thank you for your hard work, seeing an upload from you is so nice, and the colors are so pretty

Thank you so muuuuccchhhhh!!!! TTATT <3<3<3

Anon said: Opinions on Tokoyami Fumikage 💕

One of my top faves in the whole manga, actually! I have a drawing in the making of him, I should get back to it..........

Anon said: HOLY SHIT FRAN THE TOES HOW YOU DRAW THE TOES SO WELL FEET ARE THE DEATH OF ME AND YOU’RE OVER HERE DRAWING TOES THEY’RE SO GOOD PLEASE TEACH ME YOUR WAYS!!! -❤️

Thank you!!!!!!!! So pretty much my way of learning this specific skill was being obsessed with elves when I was fifteen and wanting to draw them all the time and also for whatever reason being convinced that they were not supposed to wear shoes so I just drew a lot of feet with references and tutorials and stuff till I could draw my elves properly. Which isn’t necessarily what you need to do to learn how to draw feet, but, I mean, it worked for me lol

Anon said: I love ur Bnha ships and all but what would u do if some of them didn’t become canon??

Oh, I actually don’t care about that at all? I don’t expect most of them to become canon anyway - like, ochadeku sounds reasonable and kamijirou seems to be getting there, but everything else I never even considered it as an actual possibilily. I don’t really ship because I want to see my ships become canon, I just like the potential in what I can make with them? If that makes sense? They’re just fun to think about and I like making fancontent, that’s all there is to it really haha honestly if I had my way no ship would ever be canon ever ha ha ha

Anon said: Slep is for the wek

No actually sleep is for Frans who want a chance at getting up tomorrow morning without an headache for once, so I should do that and go to sleep already lmao

#fran answers #a couple of long ones in this one !!!!!#feeling blabbery tonight

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yukiwrites · 3 years

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Magic, not Actually the Same

Thank you so much for the support and patience as always, @xpegasusuniverse! Henry, please, don’t scare them too much!

Summary: There were many kinds of magic throughout the myriad of worlds out there. The graduates from the School of Sorcery in Fhirdiad, Lorenz, Annette, Mercedes and Constance still attended some of the mage classes in Askr, but after one particular class, they met Henry...

Commission info HERE and HERE!

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The Order of Heroes was a place where many people of different backgrounds worked together towards a common goal -- it was their differences that allowed them to form bonds they'd never thought possible back in their original worlds.

Of course, that also meant that Heroes with similar experiences also converged together so as to share and gain new knowledge. There were three of such groups that stood out among the others: The Community of Hatchet-Operating Persons, also known as CHOP; the Hatchet Aspirational Committee of Knowledge, also known as HACK, and; the currently unnamed, self-proclaimed School of Magic that usually took place three times a week at the library.

Though it by no means held a professional curriculum, the School of Magic of Askr was invaluable to the young or aspiring mages due to the amount of older, more experienced mages willing to pass down their knowledge. That was to the point that some students, although already enrolled in another school back in their world after having graduated a known School of Sorcery, made it their routine to participate in these classes.

That was because there was a wide array of magic available in Askr that they had never seen before in their world: some exclusive or rare magic that they would never be able to see again were they to miss this opportunity. So even though they were summoned to Askr while still being students, the young mages who graduated from the Royal School of Sorcery in Fhirdiad took it upon themselves to absorb as much knowledge as they could during their stay.

“Annie, today’s teacher already left; don’t you think we should head back, too? Perhaps to drink a bit of tea with these new pastries?” Mercedes placed a knitted pouch on top of the large table, intent on alluring her best friend with the sweet scent.

… Well, some students took it more seriously than others.

“Mercie… Just a bit more, I just gotta memorize this formula here…” Annette grumbled under her breath, replying mostly out of habit than actually acknowledging her best friend beside her. Once the girl set her sights on a subject, it was hard to pull her out of it.

“I do agree with Mercedes, Annette.” Lorenz got up from his seat beside Annette as a flock of students followed Knoll around to ask questions pertaining to the class. “A tired mind will not make any more progress even if pushed to do so. A relaxing cup of tea with great company will do wonders to soothe your spirit, giving you better focus afterward.”

The young girl grimaced, then pouted. “Buuuut, I just can’t get it to get into my head! It’s ‘magic’, but it’s still so hard to use! What’s up with that?! I thought I’d be able to use a tome as long as I had magical energy, but this- this- huff!” She hit her feet under the table, more intent than ever to understand the puzzle right in front of her.

“Not to fret, little Annette! I, Constance von Nuvelle, will crack this mystery for all of us! There is no impossible magic for one such as I!” Constance got up from her seat with a proud huff -- her style of magic consisted more of experimenting with formulae rather than following their original path, so the power she wielded differed vastly from her peers.

It was because of that that not only Annette but also Mercedes looked up to Constance in a way that made the blonde tilt her nose upwards with inflated pride.

“Really? Will you help me with this, then? Look, I can’t make heads or tails of these-” Annette turned the large tome to Constance, pointing at whatever gibbering was written in the ancient askrian language.

With a glance, Constance was able to tell that she would take weeks to crack that. “W-well, perhaps doing so right away will spoil the fun, so why don’t you lend me this tome…”

“Ohhh, that’s a new kinda hex there!” A chirpy laugh sounded right over Constance’s shoulder, making her jump out of her own skin.

“W-who goes there! How dare you sneak up on a lady like this, young man!” She slapped her fan open as she took a step back, pointing to the white-haired, grinning lad that seemingly appeared in their midst as though through magic.

“Nyaha, you’re even louder than Maribelle! I bet you’d be good friends.” He sneered, then moved his gaze back to the tome on the table. “The name’s Henry! I never really came to these classes ‘cause they didn’t seem fun, but today’s teacher was a dark mage so I wanted to see what cool stuff he had to show us!”

“Hmm,” Lorenz crossed his arms, changing the weight of his body to one leg. “I did notice you simply staring at our teacher without taking any notes, ah, Henry.”

“Mhm! I mean, he didn’t say anything I didn’t know and boy, are the dark arts outdated wherever he came from! They’re still a taboo!” Henry let out a snort, running his thin fingers through the writings on the page. “This here, though? Fun! I’m gonna borrow it after you’re done, Annette, can I?” He raised one eyebrow questioningly, though from his tone of voice it felt either more like a demand or a really funny joke. It was hard to tell.

“Outdated? What’d you mean?” Annette’s eyes shone with the prospect of gaining more knowledge, especially from someone who could understand the strange language in that book.

“Welll,” Henry took his index to his lips as he looked up in thought, “I think not many people died from studying it yet, since he was so careful about telling everyone how dangerous it is and stuff! But it’s fun to research it, look!” He lifted his index overhead, mumbled something incomprehensible under his breath then pointed to the book in front of Annette.

A cold shiver went down their spines as a low, hellish whisper started to come from the very pages of the book.

“W-w-what-what’s going on? A g-ghost? What-” All color left Annette’s face as the voice within the book got louder, though the words were still incomprehensible.

B̵͍͕̹͍̜̭͚̺̪͝͝e̴̛͞҉̢̭͔̙̹̹͉̗̹̰̜̦̹̯̪̣̼̯ ̛̗͉͔̮̗̫̣̠̞͉̗̺͍̪̣̬̕͜͟c̸̰͍̞͞ú͏҉͉͙͕̙̠͇̣͉r̵̶̡̰̯̤̠̙̟̱͎̥̻̥̝͉͚͖͞͞ͅ ̼s̨̫͕̝̟̝̰̞̪̠̠̯͖͕̫̹̼͘e̷͎͓̣͇̤̪̼͞ḑ̶̰͇̰̼͠ ͍͓̝̫͈͈̻̙̟͇̤̫̟!̛́͟҉̼̗̱͖͇̤͞ ͕̲͓̯̗̼̩ ̢̛̞͍̬̱̫̹͎̰͓́̀ ͔̺̮̩̠ ̖̱͙Y̡҉̝͖͍͉͚̺͔̩̪̩̖̣͡ó̧̧̻̣̙͉͘͜ư̛̘̘͔̙̯̜͈̫̥͎̪̠̠̥ ̘̥ ̨̰̥̯͍̥̦̩̀͜͢ẁ͏̯͖̞̮̩͙̯̤̦͚̻͔̲̘̟ͅh̸̗̻̱̩̪̲̪̞̣̯̀͞ơ̶̲͕̘͎̘͕̕̕͠ ҉̵̡̮̗̫̯̤̣͕͖̙͎̩̰d͇̭͚̫͇̜̝͕̠̙̙̘̠̗͇͇̼͙́͟a̛̬̥̠̮͔̖̝̘͉͎͇̙͈͇̖͜ͅr̷͜҉̲͚̮͚̪͉̲̭̘̮̬̯͙̕ę̨̕͟҉̼͎ ̼̯̪̪̞̟͖ ҉̶̡̹̘͎̘̦̭̗͟r҉̥̮̝̭͚͔̟̬̫̦̝̙̖̜̲̙̲̙e̢̙̱̝̞͎̻̗̠͉͓̻͉̗̻͙̤̲͠a̡̧̢̡̪͇̪̝̘̹͇̣̜d̷͝҉̴̞͎͝ ̻̩̰͙͎̥̙̺̜̝̤̗̼ ̛͔̥̼̩͡ţ̀͠͏̵͈ ̗̻̗̤͖̫̥̮͔͖̣̭͖̝̤̥ḩ҉̴̡̮̕ ̰̹͍̱̭̤ ̦̖̱͕͔͕̯i̷̧̢̨̱̬̰͞ͅs̸͚̥͟͢͡ ̼̦̯͍̭̲̩ ̷̵̬͙̗͉̺̠͠b̴͙̜̜̯̬̫̠̬͔o҉̡͔̬͍͉̹͞͝͡ ͔ó̡̨͖̦̰̥̗͙̯̝̙͚̯̕͘ḱ̛̛̰̫̦̼͖͈ ̗͕͍͖̮̱!̨̨̭͕͍͙̤̼

They could barely understand it, but the sound of screeching fingernails, grinding teeth and chains that seemed to come from everywhere and nowhere at the same time made their hearts grow cold.

… Well, Mercedes’ eyes were glistening as she clasped her hands in wonder, but she was the exception.

“Cool! There’s a curse in the book! Hey, can I keep it now? I wanna see if I can crack it-”

“Hold it right there!” Lorenz slapped Henry’s hand as he had reached out for the book one more. “Explain what you just did, young man! What was this sorcery? And I mean that as being one of the few who actually went to a school of sorcery!”

“I-indeed! This was no normal display of magic. What have you done to achieve such results?” Constance fanned herself to feign coolheadedness.

“Muh? Well, I just hexed it! I did kinda also go to a mage school back in Plegia, if that counts. We’re all dark mages where I’m from!” He replied cheerfully.

“Preposterous. Dark magic used in combat has no such effects!” Lorenz retaliated, pulling the book away from Henry as he did his best to ignore the deathly moaning coming from it. “Hexes? Pagan practices meant to fool the ignorant? I shan’t believe in such schemes!”

“Well, you’re a weird one! You just attended a dark magic class and you don’t believe it? Wow!”

“Why, I’ll have you know-”

“I’d love to show you more complex hexes, but I think Robin and Lissa would get mad at me if anyone died, so I guess I won’t, nyaha!” He said with a smile, though an ominous shadow covered his thin eyes.

“D-died? Hey, wait, am I trying to learn something really dangerous here? I just wanted to know more stuff to be more useful!” Annette shivered, somehow sitting on the opposite side of Mercedes so as to be as far as possible from the moaning book. “Knoll did say it could be dangerous and stuff, but- death? I-I just wanted to help…”

“Huh. You’re not trying to learn magic to kill people? Another weirdo here, huh?” Henry grinned, pointing to the book once more. “Can I have that for a sec? I think if it finishes chanting whatever it started, our heads might explode! Pop!” He made a funny sound with his mouth as the group collectively lost the color on their faces.

“By all means-” Lorenz cleared his throat as he slid the book through the table to Henry, who simply had to touch it for the moaning to stop.

“Okay, uh-huh… Wow! That’s a really old curse. I’m gonna show this to Tharja later, she’s gonna love it.” He forced the book closed with a thump, silencing it once and for all.

“You will have to explain more than that, young man.” Constance tapped her fan on her palm. “I have researched magic more diligently than anyone and I have never heard of such phenomena.”

Henry turned to Constance with a gasp. “Really? Maybe the dark arts haven’t been researched at all in your world? Fun! You’ll get to discover a bunch of things.” He sing-songed as he held the large tome close to his chest. “But everything Knoll said today was true! There’s always a price to pay after using dark magic, and even greater prices if you wanna curse someone. Back then, people sacrificed other people for everything! Want to get your loved one? Plop, kill your neighbor for it! Want tomorrow to be sunny? Plop again, another neighbor dead! It must’ve been a bloodbath, nyaha!”

“Oh, goodness. Are you alright, Henry? Have you seen such things yourself?” Mercedes looked up to the strange boy, feeling compassion towards the smile he never erased.

“Mee?” He pointed to himself before his smile grew dangerously large. “Of course I saw it, silly! I slaughtered everyone in the village for killing my only family! I was sent to the mage school right away, so I got to know a bunch of other ways to kill people, too. It’s fun! You all should try it sometime.”

After saying that, he did a short bow just like how Robin taught him and bid them farewell. “I really gotta read this, so see you all next class! It’s gonna be lots of fun!”

Annette gripped at Mercedes’ sleeve to stop her own body from trembling. Constance and Lorenz frowned deeply, suddenly uncomfortable inside their own skins. Mercedes held her hands up in prayer, worried for the darkness inside that boy’s heart.

“Hey, Mercie…”

“Yes, Annie?”

“I kinda don’t wanna learn this anymore…”

The four of them exchanged glances before nodding solemnly, silently vowing to never attend a dark mage’s class ever again.

#my writings #feh #fe3h #fe13 #yuki's commissions

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cas-rivaille · 3 years

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Hello! Can I get a matchup for jujutsu kaisen please?

Appearance : 5'4 ace/heteromantic girl ambivert.Dark brown hair/eyes (I wear glasses but they are also sun glasses because bright lights give me a headache) a little chubby/muscled and pale skin+permanent smirk/smile/ neutral face. Plump lips. My style varies a lot (always comfy) but I never wear dresses heels/makeup. I love to imagine outfits with symbols from fandoms or my own drawings so I have a rather unique style (most of the time I wear a NASA jacket and leather boots/sneakers, I also love sleeveless turtleneck) who changes a lot. I have malleable cheeks and tiny hands/fingers/wrist.

MBTI: INTP-T and chaotic neutral/good

Zodiac: Gemini sun, Taurus rising, libra moon

Enneagram : My dominant is type 5 then 8. Quizzes says that I am a 5w6 or 8w7

Personality : .Sarcastic,a little naive but I have a backbone (don't bother flirting with me and if you feel that I am flirting with you which happens a lot then it's just my personality and on the rare occasion I notice they have to confess or I won't believe it) ,calculative,protective,creative,expressive,manipulative,a devil's advocate,prideful,charismatic, smartass, bookworm, daydreamer, a little insensitive/blunt because I'm more on the logical side ,vengeful, mischievous, a huge tease, open minded, very curious, gets annoyed easily, impatient (unless it's in drawing because I am a perfectionist there) so kind of a bad temper, observant but not romantically,sadistic to a point but my conscience prevents me from doing these acts. Indifferent to many things, morally...unique as my moral compass is on the neutral side I don't believe in absolute evil/good.

With my friends I am either laughing, goofing around or annoyed. I love to give bad puns or cursed ideas who are gore/weird and saying I know y all love me. Those who don't talk to me see me as a nerd aggressive smart and blunt person ( even prideful) and strangers as polite and kind. I notice a lot of details because I don't let my guard down even if I daydream plus I have a photographic + sound memory and they work very well in all situations which can be a bother when I try to concentrate which is difficult for me because I get distracted easily. Also I have very weird reflexes so...anyone who approaches me by surprise gets hit, any sudden movement and I already have my leg/arm going their way which got me into a lot of trouble.

Dislikes: I fight for my beliefs. I have trust issues so I never talk about my problems and will use humor when confronted. Bright lights. Cooking. Slow things or people. When I get teased in a mean way (otherwise I actually like being teased it's a fun fight after). People who change side easily and hypocrites. Overly serious people. I tend to be aggressive and expose an annoyed face easily (I am moody), plus I hate orders and love pressing buttons it's funny(in a fun way rarely in a mean one) unless it's a sensitive subject. When I feel that I am unwanted or someone insults me or take me for granted I become very cold and distance myself and the relationship becomes strained the more they take time to ask for forgiveness, something I might give but will never forget.

Likes: I love cats/laughter/sweets/pranks/dark humour/ a true crime and Supernatural enthusiast and I love science especially concerning space, chemistry, robotic and psychology. Books, sleep, drawing and video games too. Cherries. Sushi.Oh and debates I love them. Surprises too I hate routine and runs away from it. I like making character analysis which I often get right but never show to the people around me because I know they will trust me less.

Hobbits : Reading, getting lost in a book, drawing, learning, debating, daydreaming, sports (I practice karate and shooting), art (piano/drawing/writing especially poetry) and video games

I have some bad habits like biting my nails (I just got rid of it by painting them black)/lips and moving my leg up and down because I am always nervous, disorganized room/sleep and eating schedule plus I am lazy. Also I might try to hide it but I am very competitive and a sore loser

Fun fact : I dream a lot and write my dreams. I don't mind nightmares on the contrary I welcome them because I find them to be a nice experience and they give me ideas plus the amount of emotions you can feel is amazing. I also tend to curse while talking.

I rarely get motivated but when I do I give a very good work and put my soul in it, if I don't reach my goal I feel down for a while and become very snappy.

I am a lazy student (hell if I don't feel like writting I don't especially exercises that I understood) but also at top of my class so none says anything (i can befriend people easily if I want to, teachers included). My projects are often done last minute or just improvisation but I get a good mark at them which means that yes sometimes I can become arrogant and I don't really know what it feels like to study really hard and fail sorry. But I know it will bite me later. I often argue my way out of a situation with anyone : I know the exercise why should I write it? If I told you the answer then I know how I got it and you know it too no need for me to write the correction. Mum the brain is a muscle too so I am in fact exercising.

When dealing with an emotional person I don't know what to do I will try to give them words to keep going, it succeed but I am rather harsh plus I try to make jokes to cheer them up.But if a friend breaks down before me I will do my best to cheer them up (ahem jokes and reminding them of all the success they achieved) and if I am comfortable and they want a hug I will give it. I hate people who denies that others helped them.

My love language is gifts, quality time, a little act of service and affection in private if comfortable. I also love to send memes saying it reminds me of us/you and holding pinkies.

Please can you not consider geto,mahito, nanami, todo and junpei as matchups I am uncomfortable with them.

I am stubborn, moody (one day I can be really cold/snappy to the person because I am in a bad mood but I apologize after) and can be perceived as unloving even if it's not the case, well sometimes but I usually love affection despite me never saying affectionate things.

Thank you very much for your time! 😋

AHHH THANK YOU FOR THE REQUEST !! this is my first jjk one i hope you like it !!

i won't be answering it in order lol i do it on memory then go back to make sure i got everything i hope that's okay !!

as for your matchup.... ITADORI

so a lot influenced my decision on this, first thing being

your mood, you said repeatedly how you can get moody and we all know itadori our precious bby is a ball of sunshine and very easy going. he would totally understand me give you space if you needed it and just try his best to help you feel better if something is bothering you :)

he would LOVE to link pinkies with you and spend quality time with you

our baby is a resident ISFP so you two def have similar aspects

he would love your pressing buttons/hating orders part of your personality bc i feel like it would lead to several clashes between you and some of the teachers and he would think that's SO FUNNY OMG

he also loves your sense of humor and there is never a dull moment between you two

if you were comfy with it, he would love to hear about your dreams because he thinks it's so cool that you write them down

please let him paint your nails he would love it

he would send you memes too x10 this boy has endless memes in his phone, you're guaranteed a laugh when you text him.

he would totally appreciate your way of cheering people up because it's exactly what he needs

you best invite this boy to anything karate related because he thinks it's SO COOL i mean we all know he has natural abilities but putting it into a martial arts form is s o amazing to him and he really admires you

don't be surprised if he asks you to draw him

IF YOU LEAVE HIM POETRY OR A LOVE NOTE HE WILL MELT ON SPOT. GONE. ASCENDED. EVAPORATED.

he loves your style and think you look so badass

i totally hc itadori somewhere on the ace spectrum, probably demi

dates??:

VIDEO GAME DATES

going and getting sushi together in the middle of the night low key just sneaking out

ARCADES

nights in watching crime shows or supernatural he absolutely LOVES occult stuff as we know he would probably make the two of you try a ouija board

COOKING DATES you two would make dinner for the first years and gojo every now and then and all the praises go to your cooking it's so good

all in all, itadori is the calm to your storm, you two mesh together very well and he loves you with his whole heart

I HOPE YOU ENJOYED LET ME KNOW IF I MISSED ANYTHING HAVE A GOOD MORNING/DAY/EVENING/NIGHT !!

- cas :)

#mars on earth #itadori #jjk #jujutsu kaisen #jjk itadori #jujutsu kaisen itadori #jjk requests #jjk matchups

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hansoheeglobal · 4 years

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English translation; Han Sohee interview on Dazed Korea May 2020 Issue (credit the scanned article goes to @cubfcoftee)

Usually, the more popular the drama is, the more viewers see the characters in the drama being reflected in reality. In that sense, do you realize the popularity of "Yeo Da-kyung" in "The World of The Married"?

Yes! (Laughs) These days, I've already been getting a lot of bad words from my acquaintances, regardless of family or friends. Two days ago, I got a message from a friend saying, "You're really bad."

How did you interpret Da-kyung as an actress?

When I read the script, I felt sorry for Da-kyung. A young woman in her early 20s abandoned her family, her gaze, and her pride, I wondered why she was doing this. In order to express the character, I had to understand Da-kyung enough, so I was worried about how to do. In my view, Da-kyung is a character who threw both body and mind in love with 'Tae-oh', so I decided to look at that part only. For 'Da-kyung', the keyword love is in front of a married man, and for people, the word married couple exists before love. I think this is the difference between Da-kyung in my view and Da-kyung that viewers see.

What's the point of the future story?

Tae-oh is cursing, and so far it's only the beginning? (laughs) Focus on Da-kyung and Sun-woo" relationship, but at the same time pay attention to the story of the people around them. Yes, as couples of different ages, such as Lim Je-hyuk, Hyun-seo, and In-gyu, get involved in the incident, the episode unfolds in an omnibus style. There will be a lot of things happening one day.

"I want to act a real love relationship this time, not a dramatic love. Stories that date their peers, resolve conflicts, and end happily. And I hope my character gets loved next time."

Da-kyung's fashion is also getting popular.

At first, I thought Dagyung should dress nicely because she is a rich-house daughter. Thinking about it again, I thought, "Yeo Da-kyung: The daughter of a rich family is the eye of the beholder, and Da-kyung's poem line is my house (=the rich house) that was born and grew naturally, so I don't need to shine like the daughter of a rich family for the first reason." Dakyung's fashion will all change with time.

Dagyung is a Pilates instructor.Do you actually enjoy pilates?

No, I don't have a lot of muscles, so I've been doing weight training. Before I started filming, I learned Pilates at the director's recommendation, and it was so different from the exercise I've been doing. Something similar is that it feels like holding up like a core exercise, a plank. I didn't think static exercise was right, but once I tried it, it was effective for Jasmine's orthodontics. I'm going to try to do it a little more.

What kind of character do you want to play?

Instead of dramatic love, I want to play a real love affair next time. It is a story about people of their age who date, solve conflicts with each other, and end happily. And next time, I want to be act as that character.

Is there anything else you'd like to challenge besides acting?

I used to study art. I want to learn more from my discharge because art is something that I have to be with in my life. But I don't think I can do art at the same time.You have to do one right before you can catch two rabbits. I think it's time to focus more on acting, and art is not light to me, so I want to study in France when I have time to turn my eyes to it.

I was surprised that your skin was so good while watching the monitor. Do you have any special methods?

Sleep? For me, sleep is better than exercise or diet. I'm going to sleep at least 7 hours. When I'm on the location, I'll sleep as soon as I get in the car. In fact, if you can't sleep, you get dark circles and pigments, and you'll be able to control your tired skin. I'm trying to make a habit of drinking water. I didn't even drink a cup of coffee.

Your hometown is Ulsan. I'm curious about the Seoul adaptation period.

I have a friend who is studying abroad, and when I came to Seoul, she was the only one I knew. My friend lives in Hongdae and I live in Gangnam, so I was always alone when I was eating or drinking coffee. The street is a little too far to see often. So I have been staying in the studio with my friend, not my house, ever since some time ago. And I got to know a lot of people through Arba Teu, and now I'm happy to have that kind of relationship.

Don't you usually use dialect?

Now I have free dialects and standard language, sometimes without even realizing it. There are times when they come. It's not a dialect, but it's a unique accent Haejun Sun Bae, who plays Taeoh, is from Gyeongsang-do, so he naturally speaks in dialect once or twice in the scene.

You must have tried hard to change your dialect while acting.

It was natural. Fortunately, I think the environment helped a lot. My grandmother is from Wonju. She doesn't speak in dialect at all, so I didn't speak in dialect when I was young. After coming up to the first page, I naturally adapted to it by making many friends in Seoul. I still use dialect when I meet my friends from Gyeongsang-do. Depending on who you talk to, it becomes similar to the other person's tone.

I heard you were popular with your friend when you were in school.

I'm an exaggeration. (laughs) I didn't have a commonly called "boyfriend." attend a girls' high school I transferred to an arts high school, so I didn't know what to do in a space with boy friends. If you've been to a girls' high school, you'll know how fun it is. Seven unique moods. I don't like extreme color and I'm interested in people, so I've been friends with O.J. I've received a few letters from my friends saying that I want to be close to them. I think it was misrepresented that I was popular among women. (laughs).

You're working as Han Sohee. What is Lee So-hee's personality like?

There is no boundary or difference between Han So-hee and Lee So-hee. It's still strange to call her Han So-hee. I like people. It's not like I listen to other people's stories and say, "Whoa!" I just like to sit face to face and watch.I thought, "How would a photographer like?" and "How would he like to be?" I tried to approach him as a person when I didn't do it when I was working.

You think a mind that likes and observes people will be the foundation for the job of an actor/actress.

That's right. Since the character is human, I think it's helpful to get to know many different sides of people naturally.

What do you usually do when you're alone?

I ride a bicycle because the weather is so nice these days. I can't go to the fitness center because of Corona 19, so instead, I ride my bike for a walk. I like to be active, but when I want to pick it up, I just stay at home for a week. There's something extreme about it, but it's all at home. Suddenly, I was like, "Oh! I can't be like this." If you think you need to move like a human being, you can go out alone.

When I saw at your Instagram, I thought, 'Han So-hee has her own taste like a woman in her twenties these days.' I'm curious about Han So-hee's daily life, hobbies and tastes.

I usually watch movies, especially French movies. I recently watched all of director Xavier Dolan's movies again. I like the feeling of seeing and listening to different cultures and languages. If you keep looking at the characters in the movie, you can feel their eyes, hands, and feet. In short, everyday fashion is manuscript! Among them, I like to wear dresses that have a vintage or retro vibe in the design that reveals the necline. I like styling that matches rough boots that contradict the feminine dress of flower pattern. I rarely dress up these days, so I only wear Crocs.(Laughing) I rarely put on basic makeup and apply it on my lips to add more vitality. My skin is thin enough to show veins, so I rarely do base makeup because the more I put on makeup, the more my skin gets damaged.

It's a cat named Butler?

It's my second brother. At first, I brought him with the thought of having a child, but now he's a sister who lives with Eun. His name is Marsh, and he's soft like a marshmallow. So I called him Marsh. He's like a real brother. He's good at opening doors. Jump and lower the lever grip and open the door. Sometimes when I get sick of cat toilets, I go into the bathroom and do my chores, and I'm often surprised at night. But he's a quiet kid who's never been bitten.

How was the photo shoot today?

Since I was filming a drama, I was stuck in Da-kyung for a while, but I felt like I was out of it today. It was a pictorial, so I knew I had to strike a chic pose, but it was fun because I was able to move freely, slanted and tilted. I like this better than the pose that you put on in a cool way.

Which pictorial would you like to take with Dazed for the second time?

I want to take pictures outdoors. with a languid feeling in the sun

So sorry there are a lot of mistranslation. I hope you all still get it.

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carryforthtradition · 3 years

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Notes on oil painting materials & techniques

A I’ve mentioned before, my Fine Arts University didn’t teach such techniques, but I have to admit that this kind of contemporary education really gave me a lot. Because it has given me a comprehensive insight to the essence, idea and reasoning of contemporary and conceptual art. This gave me the opportunity to experiment with it, study it, and find my own style and approach through this antithesis.

Since I was not formally educated in the traditional techniques of oil painting, and I don’t strictly follow a traditional method, what I am about to share with you, is the notes I have collected, from my recent art teachers, that you might find helpful. I know I do, and try to revise them often myself.

Firstly, let’s remember that traditional realistic art, stresses the importance on having good foundations. One IMPORTANT aspect of it, is the design, the final drawing.

Good Foundations could be also understood with the material sence also- the oil painting materials. Both Drawing and oil medium, are equally important and combined together, give an excellent result. Let me explain a bit, why the application of oil paint is so important.

I find it always useful and exciting to learn about the origins of a technique, even more so, with ol painting which created such marvellous, astonishing artwork, which many of them, endured in time.

I like to understand the meaning behind the techniques, the qualities of the materials, in order to apply the rules in more efficient manner and also, use them accordingly to what I want to do.

Something Important to note here, is what is believed as a rule the renaissance masters had: “ Thick over thin, Wet over dry’. Since it is considered so basic for the endurance of an oil painting through time, let’s analyse a bit the logic behind it.

Wet Over Dry: What does a layer of paint mean? A layer is created when we fill the surface of the canvas with paint or paint combined with any other material. When it dries, this is considered as a layer. Each layer has to be applied after the previous one has dried completely, according to this rule.

Thin Over Thick: Thin Over Thick means that each layer has to be a little thicker than the previous one. The surface of the canvas will undergo many many layers of oil color and oil mediums until the final varnish. All these layers of substances, have to bind well together. If they don’t, many problems could arise analogous to the mistakes we make. For example, if a layer of paint is thicker than the previous one, then the exterior layer, in time, will crack.

The 7 Layers were invented by the Flemish, who experimented and seem to have discovered oil painting itself, earlier than the Europeans. The European Renaissance though, invented and contributed the “Grizzale”, which was similar to the 4th step of the 7 layers known as ” Dead Colours”.

1 *Imprimatura : Imprimatura is the first layer of paint, which is the thinnest and more deluded of all. It was constricted only in two colours, prussian blue and burnt Umber, where the white and bright tones remained unpainted.

2 First Umber Underlay

3 Second Umber Underpainting

4 Dead Colours / Grizale

5 First Colour Layer

6 Second Colour Layer

7 Brightest Layer

*For the (1) First Layer ( Imprimatura) the instructions I got from my past teacher:

3 options: 80 % Turpentine- 20 % Dammar

90 % Turpentine- 10 % Dammar

98 % Turpentine- 2 % Dammar

Some Rules About the Oil painting Process:

1) When the artwork reaches a processing point up to 40-50% to completion, whatever application of colour ( chroma) and tone (lights & shadows) has to be applied with accuracy. Otherwise, the balances of the artwork would be disturbed and then correction upon correction would end up in undermining the artwork’s quality. The hues ( diferations of colours) shouldn’t be applied quickly or carelessly. Rather, we have to take our time to think and decide which colour and hue we want to use each time.

2) When we are painting, we have to decipher the tones. This means how bright or dark something is, and these should be compared with the adjacent tones, in order to have a correct variation of tones. If we fail to do that, and we paint in a rascally way, at this point, the artwork will be out of balance, it won’t progress smoothly, and it will take a very long time to finish. All layers have to be applied correctly, in order to apply this technique successfully. This way, the artwork will progress smoothly, and it will not demand many corrections. If we fail to do that, layer upon layer of colour will accumulate, undermining the aesthetic value of the painting.

Below, I will share with you an oil painting Recipe I still use, adding inside different alterations, but still keeping the main body of the medium as it is.

Note: This medium has resins and other elements inside that purposefully give a glossy sence. Other recipes or ready made mediums, are semi-glossy, or matt. So look up for the ingredients and the labels on the product according to your own aesthetic.

This is a recipe for an oil medium I use, after I overcome the first 2-3 layers, I add this recipe with caution, following the rules: Thick or thin and wet on dry.

(the percentages are approximately)

1) Dammar varnish 65-70%

2) Stand oil 25%

3)Copal 10-5%*Masters during the Renaissance period used to add lavender in their oils, in order to reduce the intense smell. It is believed that lavender didn’t create any unwanted chemical reactions.

*Painting is like chemistry. Different chemical substances have a corresponding response to each material. It is advised to use a canvas made from similar materials with the oil medium we use. (e.g add materials that derive from linen, like linseed and standout on a linen canvas).

If we use too much of a resin, be it the final varnish, or other kind, would end up making the surface of the canvas less flexible and easier to crack.

So, it would be wise to find a painting medium formula, that gives the aesthetic value to the colours we like(* bright, darker or even having a 3dimensional effect), as well as other qualities, like, the ability to dry relatively quickly, and also adding in a material that binds all the materials together providing this way stability and flexibility to the painting surface.

Some artists use one ingredient as an oil painting medium, or buy a ready-made oil medium from an art store.

Different oils or resins, have different qualities. For example:

some oils:

Linseed oil: thin and yellow oil, over time gives a very yellowish tone that distorts the colors.

Standoil: it is a linseed oil suncooked or boiled . Adds flexibility and binds materials together, dries faster and doesn’t distort the colours so much as linseed oil. walnut oil: this oil is thin and smooth. Tough darker in appearance, doesn’t distort the color with a yellowish tone as much as linseed oil.

Poppy oil: is very thin, dries very slowly and gives great bright tones, doesn’t distort the colours at all, and even brightens them. Suitable for bright tones.

Some resins:

Resins are different ingredients from oils. Their purpose is different. They are all considered varnishes, but not all of them are recommended for varnishing an oil painting. All resins should be used with caution, in small quantities during the painting process, or inside an oil painting medium(recipe), Due to their hard and inflexible nature, could result to unwanted cracks. All the resins below have a glossy result.

Copal: a tree resin, used on wooden surfaces also, as a varnish. Hard, and thick substance,which substance that results in a sense of depth.

Amber: also a type of tree resin, stronger than copal. Older than common resins. A tree resin that went through saturation from nature for thousands of years or even more. The older it is, the higher the quality. The best ones, are considered those that have been swollen and digested by wales-usually found in the seashore. Gives a sense of depth. Should be applied in small quantities and with caution, in small areas of the painting. Being a whimsical material, It is usually recommended to be used alone, with no other ingredients, on a dried layer . Because it dries very slowly, usually, adding in 1-2 drops of a siccatif- (drying substance).

Dammar: Most common resin, that is also widely used for the final or intermedium varnishes of the oil painting as a whole. Intermedium varnish stage, means , varnishing a painting before it is finished, in order to lighten up the colors and create a new solid level for the final details. The intermedia varnish, has to be thinner than the final one, but thicker from the overall material already on the canvas.

* I usually add some poppy oil drops in my medium (the recipe is mentioned above), whenever I paint the brighter tones. But, if I use the poppy oil on my dark tones, it affects their tone, and makes them significantly lighter, so I avoid using poppy oil on dark tones.

*Amber was believed by the native americans, to acquire healing qualities. Amber, as well as copal were used in ceremonies.

That’s all for now, let me know your feedback, if you found it helpful or if you need some more explanation or analysis on some of the subjects I’ve touched upon!

Thank you and keep going!

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korora12 · 5 years

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Tagged by @corisanna

1. What is your favorite relationship type to write/read? Romantic, platonic, familial, and any subtypes.

I like romantic relationships that don’t rely solely or primarily on physical attraction, but instead on a deep similarity between the two characters. I like when two people meet eyes and realize that “You understand me. You get me better than anyone else I’ve ever met, and I feel less lonely knowing that someone else sees the world the same way I do.”

2. How much or what kind of research do you do for your fiction? If you don’t write, has a fic ever made you curious enough to research something?

Only as much as is necessary. I usually use research as a springboard for inspiration when I hit a block, letting myself wander the fields of Wikipedia until I stumble upon something that knocks the block loose.

Of course, sometimes I research stuff just for fun, with no relation to my writing whatsoever, until some random point down the line where it suddenly does and I’m super happy I already know [Random Fact #237].

3. What was the first work of fiction you remember becoming completely engrossed in?

Hmm. Probably Animorphs. I remember doing everything I could to hunt down the numerous books in the series (back in the ancient, pre-Amazon Prime days). I’d prowl the various school and public libraries near me, ask for specific books in the series for Christmas and birthdays, and even buy the occasional book at the yearly Scholastic Book Fairs, using what little money I got for an allowance.

I made it most of the way through the series, but then there was one book, near the end, that I couldn’t find, no matter how hard I looked. And it was an important, plot-changing, book that I had to read before continuing. Which meant I never actually finished the series.

Of course, nowadays you can find them all online as pdfs. Maybe I should revisit the series sometime and finally finish it. I already know how it ends, but I still feel like those last few books deserve to be read.

4. What work(s) had a lasting influence on you or your writing style?

Going back to Animorphs again. There is a straight-line connection between me reading that series as a child, through my elementary school friends Brooke, who was obsessed with dogs, and Caitlin, who was even more obsessed with dolphins (I used to find pictures of dolphins in magazines and cut them out just to give to her), through my Grandma’s love of science, all the way to my decision to study Zoology in college. If I had never read those books, I wouldn’t have developed the passion for animals and animal behavior that has shaped my life for over two decades.

Also, stylistically speaking, I really respect that series for how it treated its readers. Its target audience was grade schoolers, and yet it never shied away from showing the realities of violence and war. I don’t know that I’ll ever write children’s literature, but I’ll always have this series to remind me of what kids are capable of understanding and handling.

5. What kind of sound environment do you prefer for writing/reading? Silent, white noise, music with/without words, sitting in a public place with the ambient noise of humanity, etc.

Depends on how well my brain is cooperating. Pure silence is ideal, but more often than not there’s some manner of song stuck on repeat in the background of my mind, and the only way to drown it out is with non-lyrical music of some sort. Usually I try to pick songs that match the mood of whatever scene I’m trying to write.

6. Are you or do you like authors who are teases, in story or out?

¯\_(ツ)_/¯ I’m a big fan of the Death of the Author trope, so I tend not to get too worked up by whatever the author may be saying and just let the story speak for itself.

My first instinct is to say that an author shouldn’t worry too much about what their fans think and should write the story they want to write, and it will find readers that appreciate it. However, I recognize that the nature of serial online writing, such as fanfiction, changes the game a bit. Such authors have a much more immediate, direct connection with their readers than authors who release one or two physical books every year or so. Some authors take that to an extreme, turning stories almost into a dialogue with their readers, each new chapter in some way defined by how people reacted to the previous one. And that doesn’t even touch on Quests, a type of story on forums sites such as Spacebattles and Sufficient Velocity that require player input on a regular basis to continue. In these types of situations, I can hardly blame an author for playing with their readers heads a bit. The reactions they have can be a form of entertainment all their own.

7. Have you ever experienced a “the characters write themselves” or “character rebellion” mental state?

Not yet. For the time being, I remain in complete control of my universes, but I recognize the hubris of assuming this to be a permanent state.

8. Do you have a favorite franchise crossover? Like Bleach/Harry Potter, Madoka Magica/Card Captor Sakura, etc.

I don’t know if I have a particular favorite. I was really fond of Secret Trio for a while, which is Danny Phantom, American Dragon Jake Long, and Randy Cunningham 9th Grade Ninja. I’m still very fond of the Disney/Square Enix megacrossover that is Kingdom Hearts, despite being very disappointed in the most recent game in the series. Then there’s Kino’s Journey/Anything, mostly because I love Kino’s Journey, and I love seeing her response/reaction to various other worlds.

Also, Stargate/Anything. The only reason I ever started watching the show was because I’d read several different fics, all in different fandoms (Avatar, Yu-Gi-Oh, Star Wars, Naruto), and all of which crossed over with Stargate. Despite the similarities, both being sci-fi stories set around the turn of the millennium involving mind-controlling aliens, I’ve yet to see a good Stargate/Animorphs crossover. It’d be pretty easy to do, too. There’s a point in the Animorphs series where they decide to bring knowledge of their guerrilla war to the attention of the US government. If they’re already in the Stargate universe, I’m sure the president will quickly pass the problem along to the experts, and suddenly you’ve got the perfect setup of adults who think they know how to handle the problem, are mostly right, and don’t want kids fighting in a war, vs child soldiers who have no intention of giving up the fight so near its end, even if the adults are more competent than they expected.

I’m gonna have to write it myself, one of these days, if no one else gets around to doing it.

9. Do you remember anything about the first fanfic you ever read?

Two Halves by DameWren. My first fandom was Naruto, and my first fanfic was a NaruHina fic that both introduced me to the concept of fandom, and also sold the ship for me in a way that I’ve never shaken. I remember very little beyond that, except that it managed to correctly predict that Naruto would go on a training trip, despite being written before such an event happened in canon.

10. Is there a work of fiction that you are annoyed doesn’t have much if any fic? Like Bizenghast.

Kino’s Journey, Cowboy Bebop, Double Arts (just never got enough attention in general)

11. What fictional character do you strongly identify with?

Weiss Schnee, from RWBY. While I’ve never been accused of being rich, I am a middle child with a much older sister that cut ties with the family when I was young and a younger brother that I never got along with while growing up. My parents were also abusive, my father physically and both of them emotionally, and they taught me a number of unhealthy ideas about race, amongst other things, that I’ve had to put serious effort into unlearning. And I have, since becoming an adult, traveled long distances across the world, partially for my own benefit, and partially to distance myself physically from a family I’ve never felt particularly close to, resulting in a drastic personality shift that took a couple years to complete, but ultimately left me a very different, and much better, person.

So, yeah, Weiss is basically my favorite RWBY character, and one I really need to write more often, all things considered.

That was fun! I’ve never been tagged in anything like this before. My turn for questions!

1. What is your the most recent fandom you’ve gotten involved in? Have you made any content for it?

2. Do you have a favorite AU/plotline that you love regardless of fandom (ie. Peggy Sue, Coffee Shop AU, Space AU, Self-Insert)? What about it do you like?

3. If you write, how do you go about deciding a character’s sexuality? If not, do you ever have any sexuality headcanons for characters?

4. What’s the longest fanfic that you’ve ever read, beginning to end?

5. How often do you make something you’re proud of? Doesn’t have to be writing, just has to be something that wouldn’t exist if you hadn’t made it yourself.

6. What are your opinions on OCs in fanfiction?

7. What is your favorite storytelling medium (ie. television, written word, spoken word, video games, song, etc.)?

8. What was the last song you had stuck in your head, and what was it about?

9. Do you prefer reading/writing stories set in fictional worlds, or stories set in the real world/real world analogous (ie. Supernatural or Marvel Comics)?

10. If you could bring one fictional character into the real world, who would it be and why?

11. Pick your favorite of the questions I was asked to answer for yourself.

I just realized that I don’t know how many of my followers are writers. I guess @hunkygoddess @tmifangirl21 @queendarktigress @ladyvallhalla @i-mushi @xekstrin @shinobicyrus and anyone else who sees this and might be interested. No pressure, it’s just for fun!

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juleswolverton-hyde · 5 years

Text

It’s November, but I still want you part 3

Genre: Drama, romance, smut (eventually), werewolf AU, art school AU

Pairing: Artist!Jimin / Werewolf!Jimin x Reader

Warning: Mention of mating and knotting, toxic relationships

Summary: A first love is always bittersweet, but this time it is perchance the hardest pill to swallow. Especially when the aftermath can still be felt years after.

In the month of November.

Author’s Note: I sincerely apologize for the long period of waiting for this fanfic to finally update or announce it is discontinued. However, as you can see, the latter does, fortunately, not apply. Henceforth, I would like to say this fic is still up and running with this chapter likely being the second-to-last one. It is time to wrap up some old projects.

Part 1 / Part 2 / Part 3 / Part 4 (yet to be written)

Masterlist

Two autumns without sketching the falling dying leaves together, three winters without sharing warm beverages in the usual spot in the same coffee shop every day, three springs eyes beheld the fall of cherry blossom without him and three summers passed with so much as a word.

Ever since the young artist left, nobody closely connected to him has seen the lad. Classes went by unattended, fingers nervously and softly ticking a pencil against the table surface in the exact spot that would have formed the workspace of the one who walked away for the safety of the heart it hurt. However, what was not given a thought at the time, was that the flight inflicted more harm than when everything had been as of old and the night we first laid down as lovers remained cloaked in silence.

Stayed our forbidden fruit.

Even during graduation, the raven-haired creator was not there to celebrate the end of endless study hours stained with paint, charcoal and cramped digits. Not even the six guys with whom a group of brothers was formed had the knowledge concerning the whereabouts of the wolf boy. Nevertheless, something had tainted sincerity for the older ones’ attitude stirred up a deep-rooted sense of suspicion within, but it could also have meant nothing at all. Regardless of the truth, they tried to remain in contact and lighten the mood as much as possible, elevating the gloom left behind by the dear friend turned lover turned... away.

Limits were pushed too much, the warnings and pleads should have been heeded but the mind was too naive to notice the danger lurking beneath the mask of a familiar face, skin flushed with the anticipation to have fingertips grab it tightly and possessively by the small hands that had held even smaller ones throughout many sleepless nights. The animalistic behaviour that needed to be repressed was foolishly underestimated, leading us to ruin.

Jimin has never had to carry the blame for the situation because the mistake is entirely that of the individual who thought to be able to handle what clearly could not be. The mirror shows the reminder of devastating stubbornness daily, still adorning the neck in the form of two pieces of jewellery. The gift that has become the last physical memory of a beautiful moment in life. One thin bronze chain with a crescent moon pendant made of the same metal hanging from it and one chain that is a tad longer and made of a mixture between silver and gold with a handcrafted wolf pendant crafted from tiger's eye matrix.

Only once have they been forgotten, when it was the youngest among the broken band of comrades - Jungkook - who held a soul devoid of love and craving it so badly it gripped the first source of simulacrum tightly to have a taste of it again. The morning brought the shame of having used the sweet guy’s hidden sentiments portrayed by gentle kisses and careful movements between the thighs wrapped around a slim waist after coming undone twice before even starting in earnest. The whined and panted ‘I love you’s were already a vague memory when the sun rose over haphazard sheets partially concealing a thoroughly dishevelled dark bedhead and back engraved with scratches that likely caused more pain than pleasure. Nevertheless, perchance it is because of the guilt of having played a sick game with genuine emotions that the decision to stay by the youth’s side was made.

Eventually, the self-loathing blame turned to a non-sustainable yet believable form of affection reserved for lovers. Almost akin to what was only temporarily had with Jimin.

Until he, too, walked away for the same reasons.

Funny.

History repeats itself.

But not today after finding a pamphlet for an art exhibition near the marketing office where a fortunate job as a graphic designer was picked up soon after graduation, the grand opening of which is tonight. Normally, similar events would have been evaded since too many bodies occupy a space which cannot possibly handle them all at once and the gallery visited at a later date when the hype has died down enough to allow for calmly enjoying the art. However, the default course of action does not form an option in this case due to the artist presenting his piece of art.

Because it is the work of an old friend who gave two beautiful necklaces as a gift a long time ago.

A refugee lover who bound a reckless girl to him with the jewellery.

An onyx wolf to whom an apology is in order and the guilt more than justified.

Park Jimin.

The low heels of ballerinas click on the marble linoleum floor of the bare brick space after finding a sign outside pointing towards the entrance of the grand creative event, eyes wavering to the sides to observe the sketches of faceless women while also frantically searching for the grand master himself. Shreds of murmured conversation compose a rumbling radiating flood when entering the edifice, making the discovery of the wanted man that much more difficult since a familiar voice could not possibly be recognized in this chaotic mess of speakers.

The quest is halted when the gaze wanders to the side entirely, the attention of the panicked thoughts about coming in vain and being rejected from the beginning of the conversation suddenly focusing on a grand featureless portrait. To any other person, it might signify the blank canvas an individual essentially forms, smithing yet another temporary identity to go by until it loses its beauty like its predecessors and repeating the process each time. Withal, the shape of the face is undeniable and cannot be unseen as its familiarity is unavoidable.

Self-hatred, unintended hurt, past mistakes and various trips of guilt are depicted in the simple though meaningful drawing.

It is mine.

My face.

‘It’s the biggest piece of the collection. I wanted to give this person an expression yet couldn’t because I didn’t know what it should look like. Hence, I settled for this.’ The casual tone betrays not knowing who the listener is or the artist is beating around the bush because he, too, cannot handle the strangeness of the circumstances caused by a mayhaps unwelcome visitor in the way it perhaps should be.

‘Your lines are still off.’ A slim index finger points to the traced shape of the jaw, indicating inherently nothing although the turn to bad humour somehow seems a logical direction to take in the situation. Just as it has always been since it functions as a shield against overwhelming emotions. An old habit rooted in days gone by which dies hard, as those kinds of things tend to do. ‘I thought you’d gotten better at drawing by now, Park Jimin.’

‘Y/N.’ The manner of speech indicates having recognized the admirer far before the conversation even started, relieved delight mixed with agonized graveness.

The scars still hurt.

The fumbling digits reaching out brush against those of the individual who remains focused on the image in front. Eventually, they entwine with those that had to be let go after fully committing to the steadfast faith of being a wolf, but after more hesitation upon noticing the awkward gesture than had ever been the case in the past. ‘Can you look at me?’

‘I’m sorry, Chim. For everything. I push- pushed you too far.’ The burning tears slowly begin to create small brooks over the cheeks, the unoccupied hand wiping them away as the other tries to free itself in order to make an escape. A plan that already comes too late. ‘I shou- shouldn’t even be here. I have to go.’

But the fingers of the once intimately loved beloved remain strongly wrapped around the others, their counterparts coming to rest where frantic digits endeavoured to stop the water, thumb gently continuing the attempts with affectionate sweeps. Gazes meet by means of forceful albeit kind-hearted compelling, the palm on the face of an unworthy mistress turning the head to do so and fulfil the earlier disregarded request. ‘That’s not how you apologize to someone, Y/N. You’re raised knowing better.’

Jimin has changed, not only on the inside - if there has been no help in the form of therapy to drive the insane beast out - but on the outside as well. Onyx has made place for pale sandstone which resembles limestone if the light falls on it in a specific angle, paint-stained shirts and jeans are replaced by a stylish nightly black outfit of which the shirt lights up in the purplish lilac shades of twilight whenever it is illuminated directly. Of course, this style has merely been chosen to conform to the formality of the event, though there is a suspicion former characteristic clothes and their sentiments have been abandoned aside from the casual ones that were often worn during a happening like this back in college.

The past has clearly been endeavoured to be erased.

Good.

I was not the only one trying.

Nonetheless, the most obvious physical change makes eyes widen in astonishment due to the uncharacteristic feature.

Purple flowing over in sickly yellow on cheekbones, a scar marring the left side of a sympathetic expression as full lips speak so kindly in spite of the immense wrongdoing three years ago, the bottom split in the middle by a healing scarlet wound.

Hurt.

Actual clear signs of pain.

Afraid of the impact that may or may not still be felt, two small hands - the left one slipping easily from the grip weakened by oddly loving renewed feelings - languidly rise to remove those framing a face the artist idiotically seems to adore still and trace the trail of inflicted harm with a slightly opened mouth. ‘What happened?’

A spark lights up the warm dark brown gaze of the lad who was thought never to even kill a fly, moved by the concern and showing this by the tiniest hasty smile. ‘It’s alright, Y/N. Just...’ Lashes flutter shut as the gesture is leaned into, briefly forgetting whatever coverup is created to not ignite any type of worry akin to the sort that has been tainting living in general since the first and last bittersweet night together. ‘Just business... nothing... serious.’

A warm teardrop slides down the wrist enveloped by the fingers which were good-naturedly removed, the narrow surface of skin snuggled against regardless of the barely audible pained whines the motions evoke. Teeth lightly grazing over the surface, just tangible enough to send shivers down the spine in a paradoxical mixture of pleasure and worry about the wolfish behaviour that essentially drove us apart. Furthermore, what circumstances could have asked for bodily harm, form the root for obvious pain? ‘Jimin, what’s going on? Talk to me.’

You never fought, bodily nor verbally. Did you get beat up? What happened to you? On the other hand, we both changed and know nothing anymore. Notwithstanding, just tell me. Tell me what caused this, what took place and of which the visible aftermath is so damn painful to witness without knowing the background.

The soft kiss on the pulse evokes a hitched breath, astonished by the blatant display of wishing for intimacy once more even though it brought nothing but misfortune in the past. ‘I still want you. I wish... I wish you could stay.’ The last word is a mere whisper, only audible to the ears of the listener and the speaker in the ocean of murmurs. ‘Stay with me, be mine again.’

More tears roll down the smooth skin of the forearm before watery solemn dark irises quickly turn from the former point of focus to two staring in wonder when the wrist manages to slip from the novel fairly firm hold, having made use of the temporary weak spot caused by sadness. Fast as lightning hands pull the artist into a tight embrace at seeing a quivering pillowy bottom lip, determined to keep the sobs dimmed as much as possible and to not lose face to any potential buyers or investors.

‘Don’t cry, Chim. You’re not at fault, never have been. You were right to walk away and I’m not even mad at you for doing it. If anyone’s to blame, it’s me.’ Kindly, bleak sandy locks are affectionately stroked while nuzzling the old lover’s warm neck, growing drowsy, no, getting hypnotized by the heat radiating from the body still built like a dancer’s and the musky alluring scent containing hints of turpentine and summer flowers. ‘As I said, I pushed you too much and should’ve listened. But I didn’t. I’m sorry. I’m so, so sorry.’

The hug tightens, star-crossed lovers holding on to one another as if the only way to stay afloat in the turbulent sea of life is by clinging to the buoy in the shape of the other beloved.

And just for a split second, all seems well. Exactly like the old days, filled with hope for a future together.

However, the girl who ruined everything might as well drown in spite of the lifeline because the blonde lad lets go too soon, arms untangling and keeping the adored soul at bay by creating a new distance with shaking hands, just enough not to touch directly. The voice has gained a ghastly tone, speaking as if this time the farewell is permanent. ‘Let’s agree to disagree.’

A foot sweeps uncertainly over the alabaster marbled linoleum, acting as if removing a stain on it as locked gazes are briefly broken up while a hand combs through the strands that were lovingly caressed a split second ago. Withal, like is the case with the entire body, they shortly find each other again afterwards. ‘I really wish we could have a second chance, Y/N.’

‘If- If you want, we can still-’

A solitary head shake cuts off the desperate argument that was about to be given, nullifying every spark of hope which had collected and started a grand bright foolish fire within. ‘We can’t. You’re better off without me. Vice versa it’s not the case, but even though I still long for you, I know that a part of loving you comes with sacrifice and the desire for you to be happy.’

‘I was with you! In fact, I was the most cheery whenever we went out to the park to draw the flowers in the flowerbed or to the coffee shop. The most restful nights were those when you were lying beside me. Now, all that remains of those beautiful moments are these.’ Fingers clearly display the thin bronze chain with a crescent moon pendant and one that is a tad longer and made of a mixture between silver and gold with a tiger's eye matrix wolf pendant. ‘A daily reminder of what we had. Of you.’

A melancholic grin carves itself onto full plush roseate lips, an almost invisible nod acknowledging the meaning behind the jewellery which clearly does not add any convincing nor credible reason to change a stubborn mind set on its own opinion. ‘You still have them. I’m glad because I thought you’d have thrown them away. Or, if not you... never mind, I don’t want to think about that.’

‘Think about what? Jimin, you’re not making any sense. The last time you spoke in riddles, there was clearly something going on.’ The old Self awakens, having pushed aside the pathetic contemporary ego out of the overwhelming determination to not let things remain unresolved upon being compelled to part ways like before. To leave behind loose ends. ‘At least honestly tell me if everything is alright this time. Or just the reason for why you look like you fought a war and lost. Anything. Don’t send me away without a proper goodbye, fill up the distance with making this fucking lingering concern about you I’ve been living with for the past three years a heavier burden than it already is. Yes, I understand you don’t want me by your side anymore. But, I beg of you, grant me this last favour.’

‘I never said that, that I don’t want you by my side anymore so don’t put words in my mouth. Besides, if I did I wouldn’t wish for you to be mine again, would I? I can’t tell you what happened when I was gone, merely that it has to do with what caused our goodbye in the first place. As for the wounds, it’s nothing to be worried about. I’m fine.’ Hands mould into trembling fists, the emitted heat turning to menacing rage.

The made point is justified because the used wording which is reacted to never had any valid worth, to begin with. Rashness can push one’s own opinion despite the nullifications which are or are not already present, making the individual solely focused on their hellbent desire to drive their own beliefs through.

The realization of this calms the raging storm within, knowing that more yelling and arguing will lead nowhere. Instead, a deep steadying breath is taken and a new attempt at making amends undertaken. ‘Chim...’

A careful step forward is rewarded with a petrifying glance, feet immediately stuck in the place of the last retraced track. Stare wavers for a moment to the spot which was nuzzled against and kissed longingly, imagining what could have happened had the gesture advanced. Memories of the first and last night as more than friends resurface.

Even the worst event is no longer regarded in a negative light, a hidden absurd persona craving for it to happen again.

Get knotted, feel him again.

He is not a senseless beast, but a caring young man. Why do I long for that side of him, thinking in such terms? Furthermore, how did I get so carried away by just hugging? That’s never happened.

Nevertheless, the contemplating train of thoughts inherently boils down to the same wanton wish.

To be his.

‘Go.’

Simply have him back.

Resume our tale.

‘Please-’

We can work this out. We can get you help. Therapy. You’re not an animal, Jimin. You don’t have to hold back because of it. Come back. Come back to me.

‘Go!’ The command is growled like a wolf grown sick with the obligation to wait for a dumb opposing party to leave and giving a warning shot that any further provocation has consequences. The sternness rapidly fades, softening into sweet stained nostalgia when realizing what the hurtful impact of the chosen attitude is. ‘Go, Y/N. Just go. It’s better for us. For you. I have nothing to offer, nothing to be better than the man you belong to.’

‘I belong to nobody. I’m my own person.’ It is weird to hear the statement of essentially being some individual’s property being said with so much certainty when the speaker initially was the one to say a person should never be subject to another. ‘That’s what we artists are, independent and stubbornly liberated.’

A weak bubbly chuckle, no extravagant motions that express amusement as per habit. Instead, composure portrays not wanting this outcome to the circumstances either and come closer to make resume making amends as intended by the graphic designer who was once a free-spirited artist like him, continue where the mutual story abruptly ended. Yet, behaviour obviously gives away that the alternate route is not possible if it ever has been. ‘Goodbye.’

End of the line.

Don’t. Don’t do this, you bastard!

But the tongue is rendered silent, paralyzed with grieving shock and the ability to speak abandons the mute girl with the leaving footsteps of a sandstone wolf clad in black like the starry night sky.

The same heaven above a lonely head wandering the street again after leaving the gallery, fighting to tune out the repeating material of the emotional conversation while low heels click against the concrete. Regardless, the words are resonating as if freshly spoken and fingers have the remnants of touches by other ones clearly engraved in muscle memory.

But they have to take a moment to remember the hand grabbing them now for, although more recent than Jimin’s, it seems a longer period of time has passed since it was held by this particular one. Even longer so for the voice accompanying it, containing a strange sort of confidence that would have been quite uncharacteristic up until last January. ‘He left you again, didn’t he?’

Raven locks partially shroud feverish yet trusted doe eyes above a cute nose, a paradoxical bunny-like smile playing on pale pink lips seemingly belonging to a predator. But the person in front after accidentally bumping into them after being pulled flush against a well-trained chest is known to be better than that, never having had the aura of cunning dominance. Henceforth, looking down is the kind gentle boy with the scratched back who disappeared because of the reasons another had already given three years prior.

But Time has the ability to evoke a transformation in every aspect of and being in existence and it forms the cause for this grown-up version of a shy comic artist whose creative persona is a pink muscly rabbit. Although all former anticipating illusions are forever erased by the reflection, it is still a grand comfort to see a familiar face which holds the credible promise of staying. Thus, there is a glad surrender to the intoxicating heat scented with a delicious potion of peppermint, blue ink, markers, lily and jasmine.

To the hands framing the face perfectly and body pressing against one drunk on the temporary happiness offered by the situation.

To Jungkook.

#BTS #BTS smut #BTS x Reader #BANGTANARMYNET #btsguild #BTS Werewolf AU #Werewolf AU #Jimin #Park Jimin #Werewolf!Jimin #Artist!Jimin

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symmratgiftexchange · 5 years

Text

Satya Vaswani Smile

Hey @threepointonefourmakesxai ! I went and made you a fic based off of your request. Thank you so much for participating in this event! I hope you enjoy this and I hope you have a wonderful new year!

You can read your story either under the cut or over on my AO3!

Junkrat fucked up.

He didn’t know when exactly, or even how. But at some point this which for whatever the reason he fucked up things with Symmetra.

She was still working next to him in the labs. But she would hardly look at him! And when she spoke to him she was so clinical and curt. More so than usual. So much that it’d finally dawned on Junkrat that Satya was intentionally trying not to speak with him. That she was mad with him.

And Junkrat had no idea what he did.

Maybe a year ago he wouldn’t have cared. He definitely wouldn’t have worried over apologizing, he wouldn’t even bother with any of that nonsense. He would have just ignored the lady, brush her aside just as quickly as she was ostracizing him, call her another one of those stuffy suits, cause a few pranks to get a rise out of her then just… move on with his life.

But this wasn’t just some lame old suit. This wasn’t a faceless nobody who he’d just go on to forget. This wasn’t even the same woman he’d met when they first joined the team, a woman he assumed would always judge him and never see him as more than a criminal or a coward. This was Satya Vaswani, this was Symmetra. And ‘Metra had come to be one of the most precious people in his life. The only person who shared that title was Roadhog.

So if Symmetra was mad at him than he needed to figure out a way to win back her favor or die trying!

First he tried to figure out what the hell he even did wrong.

He was tempted to just go ask her but whenever he got close to Symmetra she’d either glower at him, or worse yet her face would stay completely neutral and she’d just raise a single eyebrow, as if daring him to take another step closer and see what would happen. And while not always the safest person on the Overwatch team he at least had enough self-preservation to know he ought to avoid Symmetra. At least until he had a plan of fixing whatever he did and apologizing.

So without knowing exactly what he did wrong, Junkrat began formulating a way to make things up to Symmetra. He started off by trying to think of all the sorts of things he knew the woman actually liked. In the time they’d come to know one another and even develop a relationship he’d learned there was a lot more to Satya “Symmetra” Vaswani than met the eye.

For example, everyone who was anyone knew she was an amazing architect but her fascination went much deeper. She adored art, especially in the 3rd dimension in all its forms such as sculpture, CGI and architecture. And it was more than just art appreciation of simply liking art a lot. For Symmetra that 3rd dimension was a special interest of hers. Going as far as to memorize the names of many great artists as a child and study their styles and inspiration. Even to this day if someone brought the subject up Symmetra could talk for hours on end about art. Many times Junkrat had gotten so caught he almost fooled himself into liking art too just because of how much passion Satya had for the stuff! And it was that dedication and good eye in Junkrat’s opinion that had helped Symmetra become an even greater architect. She didn’t just see boring towers waiting to be built in over-crowded cities. She saw art and beauty. She wanted to inspire people the way old artists had inspired her.

Also despite being such a regal, poised woman, Symmetra loved to stim. Junkrat had seen her fiddle with a few physical things before, a pen, an object she’d just built, but she stimmed the most with her hard light. It reminded Junkrat of a man he’d known back in Junkertown who would wind up old strings in his hand into all different kinds of shapes. Symmetra would do so with her blue lights, turning them this way and that until they created these different crystals or towers of interwoven triangles. Whenever she had down time, or felt nervous, or found herself trying to focus intently on a project, like clockwork her mechanical hand would begin glowing and she’d set off forming light structures. And while most of the time Symmetra’s stim shapes were just nonsense pattern’s that built nothing, sometimes Junkrat caught her making little intricate crystals or flowers.

She also loved tea, whenever the two of them went out to a café it was a given that while Junkrat got his boba, Symmetra would get her own cup of tea. Though unlike his own iced, half sweet brew, Symmetra preferred a cup of warm freshly-brewed stuff without any sort of milk or sugar. And while she usually got similar things, a few times when she claimed to want to “treat herself” she would order these special brews that came in a glass pot where you could watch as a flower slowly bloomed in the tea or little pearls of dry leaves would unfurl in a nice little showy display.

She also had a soft spot for kids. So worst comes to worst, Junkrat could bring a kid like Efi along with him to make sure Symmetra didn’t do anything rash in front of the children. She always wanted to make a good impression on kids, always acting polite and listening to what they had to say.

And while she wasn’t very good at caring for plants she still appreciated how they looked and their ability “to seem so simple but truly be so complicated on the cellular level” as she put it.

Oh, and even though it could make her homesick at times she still adored Bollywood. The music, the outfits and costumes, the dancing, the movies, all of it!

So at least Junkrat had that, now all he needed to do was figure out what pieces he could use to make things up to Symmetra.

Most of the things he could recall didn’t seem to fit together in any perfect pictures. However Junkrat was nothing if not an inventor. And it was his specialty to take small things that seemed like nothing to others and turn them into something they couldn’t ignore… usually bombs. But he knew that he could figure out how all these small pieces of Symmetra’s interests could fit together into something so great she would have no choice but to stop being mad at him!

Two days later he finally got something and was ready to show it to Symmetra, along with what he hoped would make a good apology.

Symmetra had been in the middle of creating a new model when Junkrat slid a cardboard box in front of her, disrupting her hard light.

“What is this Junkrat?” She asked in a humorless dry tone.

Trying not to lose his cool, Junkrat cleared his throat. “Uh, why don’t you open it up and find out?”

Sighing through her nose, Symmetra dispersed the light from her gauntlet and began unwrapping Junkrat’s gift. He’d done a quick sloppy job taping the box closed, Junkrat expected her to at least comment on the crummy job he did wrapping. But she didn’t say anything. She just continued to silently unwrap the box until she could finally pull the tabs apart and see what Junkrat had given her.

Inside was what could probably be best described as an oversized desk ornament. A shelf if you were feeling generous. Held together by a metal frame a few pedestals branched out from a base. Each branch seemed to be molded to look like shining towers in Utopaea, though rather than the shining silver and gold of the city these were made from a more rustic metal that had been painted orange and blue. And within each “tower” were different hollowed out spaces. Some of which were already taken up by packages of floral teas or little succulent plants. And scattered all about the little towers were photos and cut pictures. Some Junkrat had found of different cities Vishkar had constructed like Utopaea or Oasis, others that seemed to just be the more natural landscapes of India, but mostly there was pictures taken of their base in Gibraltar, and of all the people the pair now considered friends.

“Tah-dah!” Junkrat sang, making jazz hands. “A little something to remind ya of home!”

Symmetra was trying to keep their face neutral. But Junkrat had seen the look of surprise on her face as she’d taken the little city out of its box, and how that spark of joy had yet to leave her eyes as she ran her hand along the lovingly crafted towers, modeled after her own work.

“This is indeed a fine show of craftsmanship.” Symmetra said in a bored tone, not even her voice reflected that happiness Junkrat had seen in her eyes. But as she turned her head to Junkrat, she tried to remain serious. “What on earth prompted you to build such a thing?”

“Oh you know, I couldn’t help but notice you’ve been… eh, off these past few days. And I thought, I ought to make’ya something nice and… cheer you up?”

Symmretra raised an eyebrow, though she had yet to let go of the little city. “You spent all this time making this thing just to cheer me up?” She asked, repeating his own words.

“Also, I uh, I wanted to apologize.” Junkrat said nervously, hand subconsciously going to rub at the back of his head. He could hardly look at her and waited for the other shoe to drop.

“So yeah, I’m real sorry ‘Metra. About all… that?”

Whatever small look of happiness on Symmetra’s face seemed to instantly die as she looked at him directly. For a moment Junkrat was horrified that she was going to smash Junkrat’s gift on the ground but instead she set it down gently in the center of her workbench. Her constant, emotionless gaze however did little to make Junkrat feel any better.

“Tell me Junkrat, do you know why you’re sorry?”

And here it was. The moment Junkrat had been trying to avoid. He honestly had no idea what’d he’d done to piss her off. His best bet was he broke something on accident, but he couldn’t recall smashing anything recently. Plus everything in Symmetra’s side of the workshop seemed to be in good condition. His only other guess was that maybe she thought he smelled or something, but he’d been staying on top of his hygiene more recently. Besides that he had nothing. Absolutely nothing.

“Uhhhhhhh-”

All at once that calm exterior was dropped and Satya glowered at Jamison with a fire normally only left to the battlefield. “You completely humiliated me in front of my Vishkar associates!”

“Oh, that’s what that was? When the hell’d I do that?”

“Last Tuesday. I was in the middle of a call with my associates to update them on my work. And I’d explicitly asked that everyone stay out of the workshop while I made my call. And not only did you walk through! But you were completely shirtless and scratching yourself!”

Everything finally fell into place, Junkrat wanted to say something more thought-out but all that came out was “Ohhhhhhhhhh…”

“I can’t believe you!” Symmetra continued, massaging her temples. “After you left I was reprimanded for your lack of dress code, or professionalism of any sort! It was so humiliating!”

“Hey at least you weren’t the one runnin’around shirtless!” Junkrat tried to joke, the only reaction he got from Symmetra was another glare. Though she was already starting to lose that fire from moments before. “And Overwatch don’t even have a dress code. No one’s ever got on me case for not wearing shirts before.”

“I know, and there is no policies here on how to dress.” Symmetra agreed. “It’s just, I feel like as I’ve been here I’ve grown more lack with my own self-discipline… And my meeting was another harsh reminder that I still have responsibilities. A vision to uphold”

Junkrat frowned. “That sounds like Vishkar talk.”

“Well, I do owe them my entire career.” Symmetra argued. “My education… The opportunities they gave me. My whole life even.”

“Nah.”

“No?”

“I don’t agree with that.” Junkrat said. “I think no matter how you would’a ended up right here doing what you’re doing. Whether you got roped up with a fancy company or not.”

“But without Vishkar’s training I wouldn’t know how to manipulate hardlight.” Symmetra said.

“No, I mean bigger than that.” Junkrat continued. Reaching over to grab the little city he’d built her. “No matter how, you’d find a way to do what you do. Sure you can get trained or whatever but you got something bigger than all that. You got a mind. You got ideas and dreams. And you do what you do to make things happen. And you wanna help people. Like really help people.”

Symmetra said nothing, watching as Junkrat placed the city back onto her workbench, sliding it closer so she could see some of the pictures of their Overwatch team.

“So I’m sorry I made an ass of myself in front of those suites. But you know what? I don’t care about any of those blokes! And I don’t think you should either. Cause no matter what you’re already lightyears ahead of those bastards, no matter how they try to drag you down and make you feel bad!”

“You really think so?” Satya asked.

“Sure!” Jamison said, suddenly realize he’d gotten so loud as he talked that he was practically shouting.

But then, for the first time in days, Jamison saw Satya smile, and he knew everything he’d said and done had been worth it.

“Thank you Jamison…”

“Any time darl!”

#symmrat #junkmetra #threepointonefourmakesxai #symmratgiftexchange #symmratgiftexchnage2018 #symmrat gift exchange

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jessethejoyful · 6 years

Text

the art school au no one asked for

I decided I wanted to try writing a carry on fic and they say you should write about what you know so - read it here or on ao3

Baz is a painting/drawing major, Simon is an animator, and much problem ensues.

BAZ

At the end of every spring and fall semester, the art school hosts a student showcase, so we can gain experience with exhibitions and the like. I thought about entering a piece, one of my paintings, but I deliberated long enough that I missed the deadline. Which is absolutely fine, because everything from this semester felt like garbage to me anyways. I was trapped somewhere in my own headspace - but, anyway.

I wander through the student show, my eyes passing across the canvases and sculptures. Mentally, I have to keep my nose from wrinkling at some of them (how did these kids get into an art school? Is there actually any criteria, or do you just have to toss paint on a slab and say please?). Some of the students are standing next to their pieces, obviously brimming with pride. There’s one boy stopping anyone who is unfortunate enough to glance his way, and asking them a barrage of questions. (“How does it make you feel? Which one is your favorite? How much would you pay for this?”) I avoid him carefully, giving him and his creepy multi-face painting a wide berth.

It’s something of a surprise when I come across a laptop, set up on a podium by itself. That’s not art. But when I wander up to get a closer look, I realize it’s an animation reel. I’ve come up at the tail end of someone throwing a ball at a wall, which looks nice but is rather boring. I’m about to turn away when it changes to another clip.

The shot begins on a girl, curled in on herself, and a moment of her finger tapping the white space beneath her. And then she shoots up, arms flaring wide, head tilting back, and I’m blown away by the style of it. It’s not normal 2D animation, but a sketchy, wild style that somehow carries a lot of emotion just in the chaos. The video follows the girl, a ballerina, through a routine that I imagine would be heart-wrenching if it had music with it. Even without, I feel a pull in my chest, watching the obvious pain that flits across her shadowy and angular face.

I’ve never seen anything like it. It’s beautiful.

The scene ends with the girl knelt down again, her back heaving as she breathes heavily, and I realize I’ve been holding my own breath. It comes out in a rush as the reel changes again. I expected something just as amazing, but instead have my eyes assaulted by an ugly, gritty-looking clip of two stick figures beating the shit out of each other. I feel the scowl rise on my face and narrow my eyes at the name attached to the podium.

Simon Snow - who the fuck would name their kid Simon Snow? Sounds like the heroine of some sappy young adult novel. Maybe it’s an alias for a less idiotic name.

I straighten and adjust my jacket, eyes flicking back to the screen in the hopes that the ballerina clip was back, but instead it’s moved on to some boring clip of fish leaping from a river. My scowl deepens, and I move on, refusing to return to the laptop. Anyone who would put such a stupid video in a showcase deserves no more of my attention.

The name Simon Snow flits through my head now and then over the summer, while I serve coffee at a small, artsy shop near campus. I wonder if he ever comes in, but no one claims the name Simon for their cup, and eventually I forget about the reel, and Simon Snow, entirely.

Until the start of the new term, when I’m carrying my supplies into the art building, my heavy bag hung painfully on one shoulder. A girl’s voice shrieks, “Simon!” and I’m nearly bowled over as she dives by me, and I register a mane of frizzy red hair and warm brown skin, similar to my own.

“Sorry, Basil!” she squeals as she barrels away, and I’m startled enough that it takes me a moment to reply.

“How do you -?” But she’s already gone, down at the end of the long corridor and throwing her arms around a tallish boy with wild bronze hair, freckles so numerous I can see them from here, and a laugh that reverberates through the hall.

That’s Simon Snow?

Shit.

SIMON

Penny surprised me in the art building, but I was glad she did - she’d been gone all summer to study in Italy, and I’d missed her like I’d miss my left hand. She spent nearly two hours chattering to me about the different sites she toured, the museums she visited, the food she’d eaten, and I listened happily, grateful to have her voice filling up our cozy flat again. It had been far too empty without her.

I don’t know how she does it, but Penny is double-majoring in art history and sculpture. She’s dead brilliant at both of them. I was royally fucked in my own mandatory art history class until she started helping me. We’ve been friends since high school, so she knows I’m shit at studying, but I managed to brush by with her help. Thank God - I wasn’t eager to repeat that class. The professor nearly fell asleep at his own lectures, I don’t know how Penny can stand him, and he’s her faculty advisor.

Despite the heavy course load I signed on for this semester, I’m glad to be back at it. I spend summers feeling off-center, like I lose my sense of direction for a few months before wandering back from the wilderness in September with leaves in my hair (it’s a feeling that’s kind of hard to describe).

Animation is a lot more work than anyone outside of the field realizes. I don’t think I even realized it when I started, but now I couldn’t imagine myself doing anything else. Watching my pieces come to life on a screen is like a drug, a high that’ll never come down.

But it’s exhausting.

During the semesters, I spend more time in the computer lab than out of it, making use of the huge tablets and desktops provided by the school. Penny will come hang out now and then, but I get so scary focused and quiet that she usually gets bored and wanders out after a few minutes. She fell asleep there once, half-off her chair, and I let her sleep, waking her up around two when it was time for us to walk back to the flat.

Now we’re only a few weeks into the new term, and I’ve already fallen back into the habit, chatting up the lab’s student assistant before I claim my spot in a corner, ready to work until I pass out.

I try to keep an eye on the clock, but I get so into my work that hours pass without my notice. When I realize I’ve been there for coming on six hours without a break, I force myself to drop my pen and sit up, feeling my back creak in the process. I think I’ll go heat up one of the frozen meals I’d thrown in the student fridge last week; I can feel the hunger creeping up in my stomach.

It’s so late, just past midnight, that barely anyone is around. I’d work at home if I could, but the equipment is so expensive that I can’t really afford my own, with only a laptop and a shitty knock-off tablet that I use for personal stuff. The cord is fraying and half of the time won’t connect, but it does what I need.

I’m shocked when I amble into the student lounge to find a guy digging through the fridge, the room around him so dim that the bright white light makes him look pale, like a vampire. But when he closes the door and stands up, I realize he’s got almond brown skin, and grey-green eyes like a deep lake. And he’s scowling at me.

“Can I help you with something?” he snarls, clutching a carton of cream, and I’m immediately caught off guard by the aggression in his tone.

“Yeah mate, you’re in front of the fridge,” I say slowly, pointing. His cheeks darken and he steps away, heading to the counter where there’s coffee brewing. Neither of us says anything for a long bit, while I pull my food out and chuck it in the microwave.

Out of the corner of my eye, I observe him, trying to take stock. The half-up bun and long sleeve black button-up seem about right, but I’m surprised by the massive black combat boots, giving him an easy extra two inches in height.

Finally, because the silence is deafening, I say, “Working late, then?”

His answer is abrupt. “Yes.”

I try again. “My name’s Simon.”

“I know.”

I furrow my eyebrows at him, fed up. “Want to tell me yours then, or are you just going to keep being a dickhead?”

This clearly startles him, looking at me with wide eyes and saying his name, two quick syllables. “Bas-il.”

“Bazzzz-il,” I drawl, dragging out the z sound present in that ridiculous name. His lip curls, actually curls, and I’m almost impressed before something occurs to me. “Wait. Not Basil, as in T. Basilton Pitch?” There’s no way there’s multiple people in the world with a similar name, let alone this school.

“The very same.” I’m floored. This is the prat whose art I always notice in the halls? Every time I see an impeccable figure study or a breath-taking oil painting, the name ‘T. Basilton Pitch’ is always attached underneath.

Five minutes ago, if you had asked me who I thought was the most talented in the building, I would’ve said Pitch immediately. But now that the arse is standing in front of me, antagonizing me, I’m not about to give out any compliments.

“Oh. I’ve seen your work in the cases.” The microwave beeps at me, and I fiddle with it before saying grumpily, “S’ pretty nice.” Damn. That sounded more sincere than I’d meant it to.

“I’m flattered, I’m sure,” Basilton says sharply, before loudly dropping his mug into the sink and disappearing out the door. I throw myself down at one of the tables and start shoveling mashed potatoes into my mouth, annoyed now.

T. Basilton Pitch.

What a tit.

PENNY

It’s 3 am when Simon finally wanders in, squinting even in the darkness, dragging his feet like he’s left lead in his shoes. He always does this, pushing himself to the edge of exhaustion and probably ruining his eyes in the process.

And then he has the audacity to try and lecture me. I’m reading by a soft lamp when he comes in, and he snaps at me about damaging my eyes, by reading in such dim light. I raise my eyebrows at him and flip the book shut. “Who spit in your tea tonight, Simon?”

He glances at me apologetically, dropping his bag onto the floor before throwing himself down on the couch beside me, head resting on my hip. “Basil,” he growls, as I absentmindedly run my fingers through his curls.

“Oh, met him, did you?” Simon sits up and looks at me sharply.

“You know him? How?”

I shrug. “He was in my Drawing II class. Put the rest of us to shame, with his drawings and his shit attitude. The professor told him to shut the fuck up once when he made a girl cry, and he just sneered at him. It was quite a scene.”

It had been a real scene. I make a point not to be friends with assholes, but I remember I couldn’t help being a little bit fascinated by this tall dark prat, who looked ready to throw hands every time the professor said anything. And it hadn’t really been his fault that girl started crying - we were in the middle of a peer critique, and Baz told her in somewhat harsher terms that her anatomy was way off.

She’d just started bawling. It was embarrassing for everyone.

I tell Simon as much, and he seems genuinely intrigued. “Maybe he’s just an asshole to people he doesn’t know,” Simon says slowly. “Maybe if I’m nice to him, he’ll be nice back.”

“Simon, not everyone’s like you. Like if a golden retriever became a human.” He looks almost offended at this. “Baz is endlessly contrary. I wouldn’t put money on even you being able to befriend him.”

“Penn, come on. Everyone needs friends.”

I’ve got a bad feeling about this.

BAZ

Three days after I officially met Simon Snow, I’m still kicking myself for the whole thing.

Seeing him up close had just been too much. This dead handsome idiot, standing over me at nearly one in the morning, staring at me with his mouth open - far too much for my sleep deprived brain. I’d gone and made a complete ass of myself.

It was the first time I’d left my studio that day, just looking for a coffee, and my brain had stayed behind.

Honestly, though, it’s probably all for the best. I’m too fucking queer to have a guy that good-looking around on a regular basis. (What is up with all those freckles? He looks ill. I want to draw the constellations on his face.)

When next I see him, it’s thankfully from a distance again, far across the campus green. He’s got two girls with him. I recognize one of them, short and stout with that mad frizzy hair, but the other is a complete stranger. Even far off, I can tell she’s beautiful, even to my gay ass. (I’m gay, not blind.) She’s the kind of beautiful you can’t help but notice. Waist-length honey blonde hair, a perfect figure, expensive-looking clothes and high-heel ankle boots, though they still don’t make her as tall as Simon.

Too late, I realize I’ve completely stopped in the middle of the sidewalk, gaping at them across the lawn. My eyes lock with Simon’s, and suddenly he breaks out into this enormous grin.

I might be a little fucked.

Simon is saying something to the girls and then jogging toward me, and my time to escape has fled. Not that I could’ve - that smile was so much I think it rendered me briefly immobile, gluing my shoes to the pavement.

“Hey, Basil,” Simon greets me sheepishly, stopping before me and rubbing the back of his neck. He looks so carefree, in loose jeans that somehow look good, and a graphic tee partially covered by a paint-stained hoodie. He rips the green beanie off his head and shoves his hands through his orange curls, making them stand on end. And he’s wearing these massive circular, wire-framed glasses, and I’m mesmerized.

“...Hey?” I say, cursing myself for letting it come out sounding like a question. Simon doesn’t even seem to notice, his smile smaller now but no less painful to look at.

“Look, I wanted to apologize for the other night. I was completely knackered, I’d been in the lab for hours and was feeling a bit grouchy.” To say I’m startled by this apology is putting it lightly. I’d been rude first, what is he apologizing for? Defending himself?

Maybe just this once, it would pay to play nice. I glance over Simon’s shoulder, where the two girls were still watching their interaction, waiting. “Er - it’s alright. I’m - sorry as well. I was barely functioning that night.” Simon’s face lit up at my mostly friendly response, and I think I might be barely functioning now.

“Penny and Agatha and I are going off campus for a bite, you wanna come along?” Agatha must be the other girl. I vaguely remember the name Penny, some distant memory from second semester. But there’s no way I’m up for that much social interaction today; just this interaction has nearly killed me.

“Ah, I’ll - have to pass,” I choke out. “I’ve got a date.” Simon looks surprised before I finish, “With my studio.”

There’s no way it’s relief that flashes across Simon’s face at that amendment. No fucking way.

“Oh, right, then,” he says. “Another time, then.”

Weary now, I try to smile, but I think it must look like more of a grimace, before I stride away.

“Basil!” Simon calls my name and I turn back to look. Now that I’m looking at him, he seems not to know what to say, his hand pulling awkwardly back to his chest like he’d been reaching out. “Uh - good luck with the painting!”

“Cheers,” I reply, walking away then without looking back.

SIMON

I’m wandering back to the computer lab that evening when I notice the light on in the studio labeled T. Pitch. It’s pretty late, already after ten, and while I’m not surprised Basil is still here, I’m a little curious. I’d grabbed a few scones from the bakery Penny works at before coming back to campus, with a mind to eat them later - but maybe Baz would like one. I’d heard Penny call him Baz, and I can’t blame him for the nickname. I wouldn’t want people calling me Basilton either.

I wonder what the T stands for? Could it be something worse than Basilton? Is that possible?

I knock twice on the door of the studio before turning the handle, surprised to find it unlocked. Baz is clearly shocked to see me, jerking his hand away from canvas he’s working and yanking his earbud out.

“Christ - ever heard of knocking?” All this guy seems to know how to do is snap and snarl. I’m already bristling.

“I did knock.”

“Well, you’re supposed to wait for me to say come in.”

“You’ve got headphones in.”

“Exactly.”

I force myself to take a deep breath, before I hold up the pastry bag. “Thought I’d bring you some food. You seem the type to get sucked in and forget to eat, am I right?” I can tell by the defensive look on his face that I am. “Look - don’t say anything. Just take this, alright?” I take the wrapped pastry from the bag and toss it too him, and he’s not too bewildered to catch it. “Have fun, yeah?” I back out the door before Baz can say anything else and snap it shut.

I don’t know what I expected. Some declaration of gratitude? I’d never expect that of anyone, let alone that prickly bastard. That’s not why I do things for people.

But fuck, was it too much to even be civil? I don’t think I’ve ever met someone so grouchy. He’d seemed to quiet earlier, soft, almost. Shy. Maybe he’s bipolar. It wouldn’t surprise me whatsoever.

Or maybe he’s just an asshole.

I continue onto the lab, spinning my chair so the back touched the desk, and straddle it, resting my chin on the cushion. Penny yells at me that I’m going to ruin my back sitting like this, but it’s comfortable, so I always ignore her.

I’m struggling with a frame I’m working on, unable to get the flow right between shots. It makes me blink out sometimes, when I get really stressed by something that isn’t meshing. Normally I’d take a walk, but I’m not so sure tonight. What if I run into Baz? I’m pretty sure I’d deck him at this point, I’m so worked up.

I should probably just call it a night. I look at the close - 2 am. Yeah, I’ll just call it a night. I flick the light off as I leave the lab, letting the door shut behind me.

As I walk by the private studios, I notice Baz’s light is still on.

I keep walking.

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mr-eccentricist · 5 years

Note

Jas. M.H., your apologies are accepted. Regarding visual cues when communicating with someone: I understand the difficulty; however, for what it is worth, some people find me quite hard to read in person, so it’s possible that you are not missing out on quite as many visual cues as you may think you are. If ever you are puzzled by something I have said, I invite you to ask for clarification. (1/7) (Yes, really: seven parts. I apologise in advance.) — Eros.

Indeed, the general rule with Tumblr is, “only myself and the rest of the English-speaking world is to know.” I appreciate your eagerness to respect my privacy and your respect for my (strange and possibly unreasonable) boundaries. But please do not distress yourself over the thought of making a mistake: if ever you do ask me a question I am not willing to answer, I shall simply tell you that I am disinclined to answer it. (2/7)

Your question about poetry is perfectly acceptable. Poetry, like all art forms, is a matter of taste; so I cannot recommend ‘good’ poets, if that is what you were expecting: ‘good’ poetry is in the opinion of the reader, & I believe that is how it should be. What I can do is tell you of poets who are my favourites: John Keats, Alfred Tennyson, Rudyard Kipling, “Banjo” Paterson, & Shakespeare. Favourite poems of mine include ‘The Eve Of Saint Agnes’ & ‘La Belle Dame Sans Merci’ by Keats … (3/7)

… ‘Kallunborg Church’ (J. Greenleaf Whittier), ‘Sea Fever’ (J. Masefield), ‘Bedouin Song’ (Bayard Taylor), ‘Lullaby’ (Seumus O’Sullivan), ‘Madeline’ (Tennyson), & ‘The Feet Of The Young Men’ (Kipling). You, in particular, might like Edgar Allan Poe, if you haven’t read him already. I know almost nothing of more modern (post-1960s) or less romantic poetry. My own method for discovering new poems & poets is to read old anthologies, usually obtained from book fairs or second-hand shops, … (4/7)

… and seek more work from the poets whose included poems I particularly like. Thanks to the Internet, it is extremely easy to find poetry of any kind, from almost any author. If you would like to try more modern stuff, a simple Internet search – or Tumblr search – will yield many results. You might be interested in ‘spoken-word poetry’, a modern style in which the performance is as important as the poem itself. … I have a couple of questions for you. Firstly, do you address everyone … (5/7)

… as ‘My Dear [Name]’, or just me? Secondly: why, exactly, do you desire my acquaintance? Marius requested a more private correspondence with me because was curious about this anonymous person who had been talking to him for weeks but about whom he knew nothing: but what is *your* motivation for wishing to talk with me, Jas. M.H.? … Poppy’s acknowledgement is most gracious, & I thank her. Cats are kindred spirits to creatures like myself. You are quite right in that you are a member … (6/7)

… of Poppy’s staff and not her owner: no one *owns* a cat: cats condescend to live with us, and, naturally, in recompense for such favour, we are permitted to tend to their requirements. If ever you care to post pictures of Poppy, I would love to see them. Your replies are not excessive in length, unless you feel that they are. I do not find them over-long: I take it as a compliment. Having said that: please accept my apologies, again, for this unwieldy 7-part message! (7/7) — Eros.

MY DEAR EROS - No apologies necessary for your most welcome message, whether it be in 7-parts or no! We appear to be of the same mind; I, too, find the length of your reply enormously complimentary. Given how Spartan most of my written (digital or otherwise) communication usually is with most people on a daily basis, the act of writing at length, let alone to receive a response at length, is something of a rare pleasure for me.

I shall make good note of your advice. Thus far I think I have fully comprehended what you have written, and I shall take you at your word regarding visual cues. I in no way see (pardon the expression) the lack of visual cues as an impediment; you write not only well, but in such a way that I understand. Which may seem a trivial and trifling thing to mention, but I am often at a loss as to what people mean (usually because what has been written has not been written well at all, i.e., missing vital information, vaguer-y, dangling participles etc.). I definitely don’t mean that as a snobbish observance; the remark comes from having to experience the confusion/bedlam that ensues (especially amongst groups of people) all too often from a lack of clear, unambiguous communication. You, My Dear Eros, are a far cry from the aforementioned.

‘Good’ was definitely a poor choice of word on my part (Fie! For shame!). Thank you for your recommendations. I have made a note of your particular favourites in Mercury and shall pop into one of the local bookstores or library at some point, hopefully before the week is out. I am familiar with Poe, although I haven’t read anything of his since I watched Vincent Price’s “An Evening of Edgar Allan Poe“, which I found most diverting. I had considered anthologies, as some have made gifts of them to me in the past, such as perhaps The Oxford Book of English Verse, but that was my only (rather lacking) inspiration. I have seem some performances of spoken word poetry, and it was marvellous! One of my friends, Vincent, writes and performs his own and it’s rather riveting how he whips the crowd into a frenzy via his words and performance. I’ve always left his spoken word poetry performances brilliantly energised; it’s quite an experience!

Ah! Regarding your first question: I address almost everyone that I know in a similar, although not exactly the same, manner. For some it’s “My dear fellow…”, for others it’s “My dear friend…”, and for the rest there’s “Darling…”, “Dear…”, “Dearest…”, “Honey Lamb…”, “Angel Flower…” etc. Some terms of platonic endearment are used expressly for certain individuals (e.g., “Beloved” will always be and mean Anne), while others are used interchangeably and/or freely, sometimes in conjunction with their forename or surname. It’s one of my idiosyncrasies… and I’ve only just come to realise (much to my vexation) that addressing You as such borders on the presumptuously familiar. Please do advise if you’d like me to stop addressing you as such. Regarding your second question: Why do I desire your acquaintance? What is my motivation? Firstly: you were and are a pleasant person. Secondly: I enjoy your writing, and what you have to say, as you’re interesting. You clearly have perspicacity, and I don’t come across many people where I am who possess that. Thirdly: As you summarised me so keenly (and accurately) it crossed my mind that we may share the same interests, and that we may get along. In my chequered existence thus far some of the best things to happen or occur to me have not presented themselves in the most linear fashion (in my experience, they rarely do), so if we are to interact with one another with some terms and conditions I see that as no barrier at all. I haven’t the least intention of challenging your privacy or your boundaries; they are not unreasonable, they are your right, and it is my responsibility to accept them. I apologise if my answers seem flippant. I do mean my answers quite sincerely.

Speaking of Poppy, I will see what I can do. I’m notorious for never recording anything (it just never occurs to me to do so at the time), so I will comb Mercury’s photographic archives to see what I can rustle up on her. I know I’ve taken some photos of her, but goodness only knows how long ago that was. If I can’t find any decent photos, and if I can’t take any decent photos of Poppy, I’ll put up a photo of the framed photo I have of her on my desk in the study.

Would you look at the time? While it may not be a bright cold day in April, the many clocks in my home are striking thirteen midnight and I must retire for the night in order to be up at 06:00AM. I am, regrettably, not a man of leisure with a private income so must hie myself to work again on the morrow. And the morrow is a Thursday. I loathe Thursdays; if anything is going to go awry you can guarantee that, for me, it’ll come to pass on a dreaded Thursday. Wish me luck.

I hope this missive finds you well, and thank you for electing to write me. I don’t believe I’ve ever thanked you for the pleasure of your company, Eros.

As ever, I do remain.

Yr. Obt. Svt.,

James M.H.

#a correspondence with eros

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