#I’m a little rusty when it comes to digital art | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

shirecorn · 3 years

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

Long post warning.

Art block...

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

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

Maybe... I'll just start rambling.

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

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

Method 1: Rest

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

Method 2: Action

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

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

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

Art block causes and solutions:

- No Inspiration

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

- Everything Sucks

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

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

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

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

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

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

- No Motivation

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

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

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

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

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

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

- Haven't Drawn in So Long

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Art is a process, not a product.

#shire screams #art tips #ask #art block #long post

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ushiluv · 3 years

Text

Late Night Drive��

skate rat!suna x reader

When you accepted Suna’s confession, you did not know that it also meant accepting to go on a late night car ride with him to the other side of town to vandalize some old skate park that “belonged” to a bunch of guys he didn’t like. (wc: 2330)

warnings

anal, squirting, overuse of pet names, reader has female anatomy, use of daddy, sex in public but there’s no one around, overstimulation, this is kinda really fluffy, cervix fucking, use of the word cunny, let me know if i missed anything! not proofread yet

note from the author

i really enjoyed writing this so i hope you guys will like it! let me know what i can improve.

“Are you sure you wanna do this?” you asked as you sat yourself down on the passenger side of your boyfriend’s car.

“Of course, princess, when have I ever not been sure of something?” he responded with a sly grin on his face.

“ ‘m just saying we could be in a lot of trouble if we get caught.”

“We won’t.” he made sure you put your seatbelt on and started the car “And if we do, you could just show them your tits and-” the punch you landed on his arm stopped him from finishing his sentence.

“You’re horrible.” you mumbled under your breath.

He didn’t respond, opted to offer you a chuckle and a squeeze to your thigh instead.

Suna was quite the phenomenon and you’d be lying if you said that you didn’t have a crush on him prior to his confession. Truth be told, you had no idea he was into you; that’s why his confession came in as such a shock. You thought he was joking, so you lightly laughed when he spilled his heart out to you on a friday afternoon in a park near Inarizaki High. But the frown on his face and broken look in his eyes showed in every way possible that he was, in fact not lying. That’s why you quickly apologized and accepted his confession before admitting your own feelings towards him. You knew what kind of student he was and what he did in his free time, but you had no idea that he would ever drag you down with him in his rebellious tendencies.

After a few minutes of small talk backed up by Suna’s late night music playlist, you two arrived at the infamous abandoned skatepark. He got a bag full of spray paint cans from the backseat and handed you a pretty pink one.

“Thought of you when I bought it” he said after putting a black hoodie on.

A smile appeared on your face. “Oh how romantic of you my dear Rinnie.”

“Shut up.” he grumbled before getting out of the car.

After putting on one of his hoodies that he left purposely in the car for you, you got out and followed his footsteps. The place lived up to its name, it was abandoned. The rails were rusty, the bowls were full of dirt and weeds and the ramps seemed impossible to skate on. But, for some reasons that were unknown to you, not a single graffiti could be found on any surface. Your lovely boyfriend seemed to be the first one who had the idea of giving the palace new colours.

“Why do people even come here? Seems gross to me.” you said as you took a closer look to the middle of one of the bowls. You swore you could smell death from it.

Suna shook the spray can he was holding. “Dunno.” He took your arm with his free hand and dragged you away from the bowl. “Just know they care a lot about this place for some reason. Come on now, I don’t wanna spend the night here.”

You followed him (not like you had a choice) and got ready to do your own share of damage. Suna giggled as he spray painted dicks and curse words all around the oh-so-important place and you could do nothing else than roll your eyes at his childish actions while you painted neon pink doodles. As you watched him paint a curse word that you were sure could not be found in any dictionary, you realize how deep in love you were with that man. Thoughts about your future together started fogging your brain and you could feel your cheeks heat up at the idea of spending the rest of your days with him.

“Babe look at- What’s wrong?” your arms suddenly flew around his waist and your face found place on his chest.

“Just thinking about how much I love you.”

You felt Suna relax as he placed a kiss on the top of your head.

“I love you too, baby, but look at what I just painted!” he turned you around, excited to show you his new artwork (if you could call it that).

It took about another twenty minutes for him to be completely satisfied with his new art piece. The place was definitely more colourful now, you had to admit that. Suna threw his cans and yours in his backpack and walked back to his car, hand in hand with yours.

He unlocked his door only and threw his backpack in the back as you waited for him to unlock your door so you could get it, but it seemed like he had other plans on how to end the night.

He walked around the car and reached to you, caging you between him and the car, arms on each side of your head.

“What are you doing?” you huffed.

He leaned down and licked the shell of your ear. “Just rewarding my princess for helping me tonight.” he whispered before leaving a trail of kisses down your neck.

Taking a hold of your shoulders, he moved you onto the hood of his car, bending you down against it. His hand moved from your shoulders to down your spine before finally squeezing your ass through your thin leggings.

“Been so good to me tonight, think you deserve a reward” he gave your ass a light squeeze.

“Y-yeah Rin, please.” it was crazy how that man managed to always make you forget how to talk.

As he knelt down on the concrete, he didn’t care about how you didn’t address him properly, he didn’t care about the little rocks that were digging in his knees through his sweatpants, all he cared about was making you feel good. He pulled down your leggings and panties, down enough for him to have a proper look at your already drenched pussy. He hummed to himself and thanked God, the Universe or whatever divine entity that was the reason for you to be in his life.

He didn’t waste any time and brought a finger to your already gaping hole, playing with it as he watched in awe at how much wetter you were getting from his ministrations.

“My little slut is getting turned on because she’s gonna get fucked in public?” he spoke “You’re so messy, princess, wish you could see this yourself.”

“Ah-” you jolted as you felt a finger penetrate you, “don’t tease me, daddy.”

“ ‘m not teasing, doll, you’re just eager.”

He removed the finger that was just in you and brought it to his mouth, sucking and licking at your juices that stuck to it.

“You always taste so good. Gonna let me have another taste, baby? Gonna let me eat your pretty cunny out in public?”

You whimpered. “Yes, yes yes, daddy please, wanna feel your mouth on me.” the cold metal of the hood started feeling really hot under your burning cheek.

“Whatever princess wants, princess gets.”

Suna gave a lick with a flat tongue to your labia, gathering your wetness in his mouth before wrapping his lips around your clit. His tongue switched from playing with your little bundle of nerve to licking your hole. The stimulation drove you crazy, you could feel yourself become closer at every flick of his tongue on your clit. He suddenly removed his mouth from your pussy and switched his tongue for his fingers. The sensation made you squeal from surprise. Three of his fingers were now filling your hole while his thumb took care of stimulating your hardened clit.

“Gonna try something, doll, alright?”

Too busy chasing your high, you nodded eagerly. You had no idea what he was saying, the only information you picked on from his voice was that he asked you a question and you trusted Suna with all your heart. That’s why your whole body jolted when you felt a finger press against the ring of your asshole.

“Rin!”

“Shh, focus on how good I’m making you feel. Can feel you clenching around my fingers, puppy, this is gonna make you feel even better.”

He spat against your hole and allowed the tip of his finger to go past the rim. The sensation was nothing like anything you’ve ever felt before but you couldn’t say you didn’t like it. You only were closer to your climax when you felt his finger try to go deeper.

“Fuck! Daddy!” you screamed as you gushed around his three digits.

“That’s a good girl, fuck.” Suna praised. “Fuck, you never came so hard. I knew that you were a slut but I didn’t know you were such a dirty one.” he teased as he let you ride out your orgasm. “Just need a finger in your other hole to make you squirt, uh?” his dirty words made you whine in protestation, you didn’t even know you could cum like that.

You pushed his hand away when the rubbing against your clit made you feel too overstimulated.

“Stop it daddy… ‘s too much.”

He got up and manhandled you onto your back.

“I know baby, just need to feel you cum around my cock now. Can you do that for me? Gonna be a good doll and squirt on my cock? Promise this will be all for tonight.”

You nodded weakly, still trying to get over the aftershock of the powerful orgasm you just had. He grinned at you and leaned down to kiss your mouth, leaving a small taste of yourself on your lips. His hands reached down for the hoodie you were wearing and the shirt underneath it, he pulled both up enough to have a view on your pretty tits.

“Knew you were not wearing a bra.” he gave a playful pinch to your nipples.

You whined and pushed his hands away before reaching down to the band of his sweatpants to remind him of what he was supposed to do with you.

“You’re so impatient, princess, you’re lucky I love you” he mumbled.

Your heart warmed up at his words, they were like a little reminder that you were his and he was yours. “I love you too, daddy.”

He completely took your legging off and pulled his sweatpants and boxers down to his thighs. His cock was hard and red, the mere sight of it was enough to make you drool. Bringing a hand around its base, Suna started to run his tip over your puffy clit, allowing his cock to be coated of your wetness.

“You’re so shamelessly messy, puppy.” he moaned as he put the tip in, “and so fucking tight. God, no matter how many times I fuck you- you were made to take my cock, right doll? No one else’s.”

“Hmm- Only yours daddy! ‘Was made to only take you”

He groaned as he bottomed out, the wetness of your previous orgasm making it so much easier. Remembering how hard you came earlier, he started fucking you harder with the only goal in mind to make you gush as hard as he just did. The tip of his cock was kissing your cervix and reaching that one spongy spot only him could reach. You were seeing stars- figuratively and literally.

“Daddy you’re so deep” you moaned.

“I know baby, but you love it right? You love having me this deep. Say it.”

“I love it daddy! No one- no one else can fuck me like you do.”

Satisfied with your answer, Suna didn’t take mercy on you and started pounding harder into your gummy walls. Feeling you clench around him, he spat on your hardened clit and started toying with it with his thumb, just like you liked. The added stimulation only heightened your senses. You could feel everything, from the way his thumb was rubbing circles around your clit to the hard vein on his cock that felt painfully good every time he thrusted into you. Before you knew it, your orgasm started building up in you much more powerful than the one you previously had.

“Da- Daddy ‘m gonna make a mess again.”

“Yeah? Gonna gush around me? Come on pretty I know you can do it, gonna make your pretty little cunny cum.”

His other hand started toying with your hard nipple and that pushed you over the edge, cunt spasming around him and juices squirting on his old black hoodie, you came on the hood of your boyfriend’s old car. You moans were nothing compared to the grunts and groan that left Suna’s mouth, he seemed to be enjoying this more than you did.

“Fuck, you’re so perfect.” a few more thrust inside your walls were enough for him to spill his load into you.

He leaned down on you and hugged you, chest pressed against yours. You two stayed like that for a second, in a comfortable silence just enjoying each other’s presence. After a while, he pulled out of you with a wince as he saw his cum spill out of your hole. He was quick to pick up your leggings and panties and helped you put them back on.

“Don’t waste precious cum.” he said as you pulled your leggings up.

“Maybe if you stopped fucking me raw-”

“Shh, you love it.”

He pressed a kiss to your temple and opened the car door for you.

“Get in, we’re getting food.”

You excitedly clapped your hands, ready to spend some more time with him.

“And then we’re going back to my house, really gotta make you squirt again.”

“You’re a fucking perv, Suna Rintarou.”

“You’re in love with this perv.”

You smiled, because that was the complete truth.

na: sorry for the rushed ending im exhausted </3

#suna rintaro scenarios #suna rintarou #suna x you #suna x reader #inarizaki #inarizaki x you #inarizaki x reader #suna fluff #suna smut #skaterat suna #hq smut #hq fluff #haikyuu fluff #haikyuu!!#haikyuu smut #haikyuu scenarios #suna x y/n #inarizaki x y/n

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teukyo · 3 years

Text

One Warm Spring — Hamada Asahi

pairing: hamada asahi x reader (gender neutral)

genre: fluff, very cheesy lol

word count: 3.2k

a/n: this had no business being so long i apologize D: i tend to overwrite whoops.. oh this is also my first fic so i hope you enjoy ! i’m still a bit rusty lol

Spring; after long nights of endless slumber, the Sun creeps up to the earth, its rays planting warm yet gentle kisses. The orb’s cheeks fill up in heat, flowers of endearment blooming, butterflies catching in the atmosphere’s stomach.

The Earth smiling back, showing a bright welcoming smile, and with open arms, tells the sun “good morning”.

The quiet exchange of sweet nothings transferred to the buoyant citizens, as everyone would jump in joy about the newly welcomed season.

And during this time of the year, peoples hopes grew along with the blooming cherry blossoms until, they too, find a loved one

With late march rolling in, comes the blossoms fully bloomed, the arms in everyone’s hearts opening to everyone.

Yet, you often found it a mistake to open up your heart in a time full of tender love like now.

Empty confessions mimicked to be heartfelt at the spur of the moment, fleeing away just as quick as the cherry blossoms came and went. You just never understood it.

Snap!

“Y/N~~ the cherry blossoms are coming soon,” your friend, Jihoon sang into your ear, “And you’re out dozing off into dreamland, are you perhaps thinking about participating in the blossoming of love this year?”

You lightly shoved him away, giving him a glare. Jihoon was always jumping around during this time of the season because he never failed to have a crowd lining up to confess him; his ego flying as high as the newly born butterflies.

“Haha, very funny.” You deadpanned, leaving him behind to go to the cafeteria.

“Hey, you get the drinks and i’ll get the food!” Jihoon shouted, you simply responding with an ‘okay’ symbol with your hand.

Because this was a routine everyday, you had your exact footsteps to the vending machine engraved in your head.

‘11:43—by now everyone should have already gotten their drinks’

‘1, 2, 3, 4.. don’t trip over the crack.. 5, 6, 7—’ beep!

That beep.. wasn’t part of your procedure.

You looked up, your eyes landing on an unfamiliar figure in front of your destination.

Focusing your vision on him, he was made out to be a raven haired boy, his posture slightly hunched over focusing on the number combination assigned to each drink.

His dainty fingers lightly pressing the right combo, pressing each digit carefully like his joints were made of glass

Shoving the crumpled up $5 bill into the slot, his eyebrows furrowing when the machine rejected it

5-5-6-2— banana milk?

You hadn’t realized you’ve been staring at him the entire time until he started walking away, a banana milk in his hand, accidentally brushing past you.

“Ah, sorry” he simply muttered under his breath before continuing on his path. His voice, a deep contrast to the season; hearing his hushed voice chilling you like a midwinter night. His entire presence stood out, almost like a wilted flower amongst the blossoming ones. Yet here you are, warm as ever, feeling the sun pressing warm gentle kisses on the place his fingertips brushed yours.

—

“Y/N? banana milk? you seem to be switching it up today” Jihoon said when you set your drinks down on the table.

“Ah.. i just — maybe i needed a change for the season” you simply responded because, you too, didn’t know why you had a banana milk in front of you instead of your usual chocolate milk.

Throwing your half empty banana milk carton to the trash after lunch, you heard a voice peer behind you.

“Oh! you drink banana milk too! it’s my favorite!” a student you knew the name by Jaehyuk vocalized. You snuck a peek back at the banana milk slowly spilling out of the tiny straw, smiling back at Jaehyuk looking at you with hopeful eyes.

“Ah— this is actually my first time trying it! And it’s.. good!” you returned, attention on Jaehyuk until you see a much smaller figure peer behind him, a chocolate milk in hand.

“Of course it’s good! don’t buy too much of it though— don’t need it going out of stock on me! cmon Asahi”

Asahi. Asahi is his name.

You took one last quick glance at him, watching him throw the empty chocolate milk carton in the bin.

“Yeah.. The banana milk was too sweet for me anyway.”

—

Squatting down to touch the freshly grown flowers outside the school yard, you had recalled the times of your youth as a child running so eagerly to the same flowers in your hand right now.

Gazing at the pretty pink petals in awe as you wiping the morning dew slightly so it can slide off the petals, dripping to the ground.

Running back into your home, crying for a bandaid because you accidentally poked your hand with one of the thorns on accident.

Such simple yet vivid times you remember that made you cherish life a little more.

“Y/N? what are you doing here— our last class is gonna start soon” you heard your classmate Hyunsuk call. you spotting an ever so familiar figure behind him.

Small yet vivid moments.. how does this remind you of—

“Y/N what are you doing cmon!”

—

After school, you sneakily slid into the art classroom after realizing you left your phone in there. Checking the clock, you had 15 minutes before art club would commence, assuming you had 5 minutes to find your phone before members of the club would start arriving.

You observed the colorful classroom with the array of paintings laying on the drying rack, the paint brushes laying on the counter to dry, the sink covered in copious amounts of colors with its original silver color peeking through. The room gave off the feel of an elementary school art classroom. You guess the term “art is timeless” applies to the setting art is made in too.

“Ah there it is!” you whispered to yourself, snatching it off of the teacher’s desk. The sound of the door sliding open shocked you, ducking down under the table out of instinct.

‘Crap—how do i get out of here’ you thought before hearing a tiny tap on the desk.

And during this time of the year, peoples hopes grew along with the blooming cherry blossoms until, they too, find a loved one

“Uhm.. are you okay?” you looked up, seeing him.

With late march rolling in, comes the blossoms fully bloomed, the arms in everyone’s hearts opening to everyone.

“Oh sorry! I just- I forgot my phone during class so I just came in here to grab it..” you trailed off, quickly getting out of your ducked position and brushing the dust off of you.

You just never understood it.

“I should get going since art club is starting soon” you mustered. Before you could open the door you heard him speak.

“Are you looking to join the art club by any chance?” he said. You looked back at him, unable to scramble words together.

‘Just say yes, say yes, say yes, say yes say-‘

—

You handed out the application form to the leader of the art club, Yoshinori was it?

“Thank you thank you! You can join us for today to see the gist of what goes on” he said while giving you a smile that can easily flutter the hearts of others.

You looked at the room around you seeing Asahi and Jaehyuk, and a freshman that went by Haruto.

To be honest, why did you apply? Your experiences in art were little to none and your current piece you were working on in class was a “dog”— at least that’s what you called it.

“There should be one more person arriving and then we can start” Yoshinori said whilst you and him took a seat.

You stared at Asahi across from you who was absent mindedly looking down at the table, fiddling with his fingers.

‘Cute’ you thought before getting interrupted by the sound of the door opening.

“oh! Y/N what brings you here?” you looked behind you to see Jihoon at the entrance, giving Yoshinori a polite smile.

“I think i should be asking what are YOU doing here,” you retorted, knowing very well that both you and him had the same level of art skill, “and I just joined because i’ve been interested in art.”

“Sure—“ Jihoon scoffed, “Asahi told me about this today so i decided to join—“

‘Asahi. How does he know Jihoon?’

“And you’re not even listening to me!” he exclaimed, ruffling your hair roughly, you lightly punching him in the gut in return.

After the commotion died down, everyone went in session, drawing on a piece of paper whatever went into mind. It definitely meditated your mind but it wasn’t appealing— visually.

The room was filled with small chatter, Jihoon’s voice overbearing everyone else’s.

“Your doodles are very cute” you heard him softly speak. You looked up at his paper, your eyes widening at the sheer talent that bestowed upon your eyes.

“You’re a funny jokester” you simply replied, looking at your own paper with a tight lipped smile. You heard him stifle a laugh, warmth flooding throughout your veins.

“It’s amusing to look at— i like the dog” he said, pointing at one of the drawings.

“It’s supposed to be a zebra >:(“ you looked up at him, trying to contain his laughter before calming himself down and continuing to draw on his paper.

“Well it’s fine because art club isn’t necessarily based on skill. i mean, if we have Jaehyuk in here then that says something” he responded pointing at Jaehyuk’s paper. You couldn’t quite comprehend what he was drawing— a person playing baseball??

“It’s a frog by the way”

“HUH?!”

—

You hadn’t realized how late art club ended, but when you walked out of school, you saw the once blue sky turned into an orange hue indicating the late time.

“We hope to see you again Y/N” Yoshinori said. You nodded and hummed in response before taking your leave with Jihoon.

You took one last glimpse of Asahi, sticking out amongst the orange sky. The sun was setting yet— looking at him gave you the exact warmth you would feel on a midsummer day. You watched his mouth slowly bloom into a smile when made eye contact. You think in your mind that spring has never felt so warm.

—

You looked up at the trees in the process of blooming, white buds formulating on the branches.

“The trees are gonna be really pretty in about two weeks or so” you heard a voice from behind you. Him. You clenched the chocolate milk in your hand before turning towards him.

“Yeah— oh sorry i’m blocking the vending machine” you murmured, sliding away.

“Oh no no,, it’s fine,” he said before taking your spot and getting the same drink in your hand, “Are you by any chance— planning to confess to anybody?”

Oh, right. You looked up at the blossoming trees once again. The time of the season you once never understood. The time of the season you once could say you despised. Yet here you are, having the rush of spring flowing down your veins. Is this the adrenaline that everyone feels? The unknown feeling gave you goosebumps throughout your body as he asked you that question.

“I don’t quite know yet,” you simply responded, looking back at him taking the drink out of the machine, “What about you?”

A sheepish smile wiped on his face, his dimple showing ever so slightly. He shrugged before looking at you.

“Only my heart knows the answer to that question.”

—

Over the so little time you’ve known Asahi, you’ve picked up on his mannerisms and his actions.

For one, he was more on the reserved side, and even when he talked his voice would always be on the softer side. You unknowingly started to associate him with winter because he gave off the cold feeling of a winter night. It was also your favorite season.

Most people knew him because he was friends with Jaehyuk, one who was very popular amongst the school. You had heard a couple times in the hallway about how handsome Asahi was. The feeling you felt when hearing that was unknown to you.

He enjoyed drawing a lot; him and Yoshinori were the best out of the club (though you’d be a bit biased if asked whose art you liked more), and he was always focused on his work, always scrunching in a little corner tending to his painting. But yet he always complimented your drawings no matter how bad they were, never failing to give you a warm feeling right after.

You could say you had developed an endearment towards asahi.

You stepped out your home, looking at the once bare trees flutter into pink hues, you thought the cherry blossoms were beautiful.

Today you decided not to walk out with Jihoon because well— confession season is always different with that boy. You had no intentions to get caught up in his relations.

You took timid and slow steps towards school. Taking your time looking at the petals and happy groups walking and aweing at the blossoms. Your mind was also off somewhere— of course it was, it always was.

Arriving at school, you saw Jihoon getting flooded by countless individuals, a letter in most of their hands. You could say the same to Jaehyuk on the other side who was also getting bomboarded. You took your routined steps to your locker, opening it as per usual except— it wasn’t usual.

You watched the letter flutter out, swaying to the floor imitating a loose flower petal. Picking it up with a shaked up expression, you carefully opened it up.

You saw the scribbled up lines at the top of the letter, indicating that the said person was trying to make a poem.

‘ah— who am i kidding? i’m not one with words. i never was. yet here i am trying to pour my feelings out on this letter. but i cant seem to combine the right words to express it. maybe because my feelings could not be described in the first place. maybe my feelings are best not worded out on this crumpled up piece of notebook paper. because if i’m being honest— this is my 27th time writing this and yet i still cant get it down. just.. meet me at class 104B? 4:15 pm after school today? please? -♡

Your grip on the paper tightened, the heart fluttering confession bringing a small smile to your face. You looked back at your locker seeing chocolate milk in sitting atop. You grasped it in your hand, taking it out before closing the locker and heading to class, your hands gripping tightly onto the objects. Unknown to you a figure watching your every move with focused eyes.

As time went by in school awfully slowly, your mind went off to one person only. You had foolishly deluded yourself into thinking that the letter and milk was from him. well— he did see you buy chocolate milk that one time. And well,, the handwriting did have a print of him.

‘Enough thoughts. just wait until school ends and your mind can finally-‘ ring!

You looked up at the clock in shock, realizing that it was, in fact, 4:00pm.

You purposefully gathered up your belongings slowly, trying to pass as much time as possible. Putting your care into every single step taken, from the 1st floor to the second.

Taking a deep breath, you slid open the empty classroom door. It was very convenient that it was just across the art classroom as the club did have a meeting today.

You traveled across the room to look out the window, seeing someone announce their feelings to another under the cherry blossoms. Just last spring you would stick your tongue out in disgust yet here you are somewhat in the same position, your heart aching as each second ticks by.

You watched them hug each other, their feelings being reciprocated, a petal getting caught in ones hair. You looked at the trees and how it really set the mood, almost getting lost in the alluring sight until you heard someone clear their breath.

You turned around deliberately, looking down at your shoes before looking up.

Yet, you often found it as a mistake to open up your heart in a time full of tender love like now. well— maybe not.

It’s him. The person right in front of your eyes is him.

You felt like the sun had just rose, your heart beating out of your chest almost like it was about to burst and run away. You felt the butterflies prance around in your stomach, feeling like you could cough one up right now. Does he feel the same right now?

“Ah,,, hello” he mustered shyly. You clenched the letter in your hand.

“Did you perhaps—“ though it was quite obvious, the slight nod from him gave you your answer.

You observed him, his hair slightly covering his eyes. Lightly kicking at his feet, you had figured he couldn’t compromise the right words.

“I have something for you” he spoke out after what seemed like a few minutes. He reached his hand out, silently telling you to take the initiative to grab it. You placed your hand in his, feeling like your hand was molded perfectly just to cusp his. His grip so gentle you could barely feel him grasp your hand.

Leading you to the art classroom across, your eyes spotting on the covered canvas on an easel. Using his other hand, he took off the cloth, your eyes widening in awe.

Your mouth laid agape as you looked at the drawing of a portrait of you with cherry blossoms in the background. Your heart stammering in your chest.

“Is this what you’ve been working on the entire time in art club?” you asked, eyes still on the painting. He hummed and nodded his head.

“Do you like it? Or is it a bit too—“

“No no! I like it a lot— Actually I love it. I love it so much” you cut him off, looking at him with excitement evident in your eyes. Words couldn’t describe the feeling flowing through you. Is this real?

“Well, I like you a lot too. I was trying to find a way to tell you, so I used my strong suit which is art” he proceeded to tell you, taking your other hand in his. He smiled tenderly at you, his signature dimple showing once more.

“Asahi— I like you too” you beamed, staring straight into his eyes. His smile widened more, his teeth showing. You took this as the initiative to hug him, arms wrapping around his neck, his wrapping around your waist.

You felt the sun shine on you, the warmth of spring immersing through you, your heart feeling more than alive as ever. The cherry blossoms you once thought as a mistake becoming the blessing in disguise for you. You think in the time of the moment that Spring has never felt so warm for you.

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musicallisto · 3 years

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Congrats love! Could I get an Assassins Creed ship please? 🍨 I’m female/straight. I’m creative, independent, confident in my own skin, and quite laid back. I have a sarcastic and witty sense of humor and love banter. However, i can be very impatient, somewhat cold (at first before I warm up to you) and stubborn. I’m also very good at reading people’s cues/body language. I love art, digital art, video effects/vfx, video game design and graphic design. Literally anything to do with art combined with technology I adore. I also love cosplaying and making my own costumes/props. I love playing video games and watching all sorts of movies (fantasy, sci fi, and espionage being my favorite genres). I don’t physically read much but I love audiobooks. I also love conspiracy theory podcasts. I also love kickboxing, and boxing. I love 80’s rock music (AC/DC, Guns N Roses, Queen, etc.)To contrast that I also adore soundtracks and will listen to them on repeat. Thanks love!

hi! I previously shipped you in the assassin’s creed fandom for an ID card, and while I also get some strong arno vibes with you, I would like to continue exploring what I originally wrote - just as edward kenway explores the seven seas by your side...

The Assassin’s order trusted you entirely. You were valuable, strong, skilled, intelligent, and capable; and, being a young woman in a world ruled by old men, you were far too often underestimated by your enemies... until it was too late for them to repent.

Edward, on the other hand... not so much, at the beginning.

Sure, there was an element of male pride to it. Never had he been accustomed to sharing his ship, missions, and trophies, with another person. Sure, he always worked with a crew, and welcomed everyone who desired to join him and do the right thing across the seven seas, but the Assassins had been abudantly clear on that matter; you were not to be a mere crew member he could boss around, you were the Caribbean’s finest element, and ought to be respected almost as a second captain.

With chafed Edward’s self-importance a little bit.

He had spent all his life desperately trying to prove that he was worthy of more than the peaceful, farmer boy life, that he was a commander and a liberator, and there you were, and everything seemed handed to you.

But you knocked him down a peg (or a few, actually) when you snapped at him for the first time, reminding him that you had sacrificed much more than he, an Englishman, could ever imagine.

And besides, he couldn’t deny it anymore. No matter how much it wounded his pride, you were undeniably impressive and, well, Edward much prefered having you as an ally on his ship than an enemy the Templars’.

Eventually he warms up to you, and gives you one of the most important positions on the Jackdaw: the armorer, and also the one who teaches every newcomer how to fight.

Long range, point blank, firearms, bladed weapons... you even do manning the cannons.

Well, you instruct each new arrival, but also those who have been aboard for a long time... and even Edward himself.

Which is not the easiest thing you’ve ever had to convince him to do, but not he hardest one, either. Your resolution of steel has carried out much further than convincing your proud little captain that he needs some training with you.

“Come on, Edward. You know your sparring is rusty. This is an act of benevolence on my part.”

“Is it?”

“Well, not entirely. I also really want to beat you up.”

He couldn’t possibly tell you, but he doesn’t entirely loathe losing to you. Your victorious grin is the most ravishing sight he’s ever seen, more than any age-old golden treasure or turquoise bay.

He event lets you add a few... “improvements” to the ship, given how much you love technology.

And he’ll order that the most beautiful paintings and artwork you steal from enemy ships go adorn your quarters.

Fighting is fun, of course, but parties on the ship are more fun. Everyone always gets piss drunk and you, despite handling your alcohol pretty well, sway across the deck like the reeling of the ocean. All the lights are on and an air of perfect euphoria washes over the ship, as though no battle nor tempest could ever sink you.

In those moments, both you and Edward are a bit less inhibited, less stubborn and worried about your pirate plans, and therefore easier to talk to. He’ll even risk asking you for a merry dance in front of all his crew.

“Aye, captain, what’s got into you?”

“Don’t know. Sea air’s rotting my brain.”

You consider it for a moment. You wouldn’t dance for anyone else...

Then again, Edward is not exactly anyone else. Underneath his rugged exterior is the soul of a man who wants to do what’s right and prove his worth, so dedicated to his moral code and his companions; and, above all, in ways only you two can understand, kind to you.

So you dance.

Just this once.

Well. Maybe you’ll dance once more, at the next party.

But just once more.

Or twice more.

Or actually, as many times as your heart will desire. Your life is too frail and uncertain, and people like Edward too rare, to throw them away to the claws of uncertainty and stubbornness.

800 follower sleepover

#huntheimpossible #800sleepover #ship request #assassin's creed #ac black flag #edward kenway #edward kenway headcanons #edward kenway x reader #ac imagine

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peace-coast-island · 3 years

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Diary of a Junebug

Rock and roll the night away!

What better way to escape than getting lost in music? Headphones on, thoughts off - nothing like some good bops to help get you through the day.

KK Slider's been looking into expanding his musical repertoire so he's been playing around with different genres in hopes of creating a brand new sound. And that's how rock and roll night came to be!

Joining us on this musical adventure are Sonja, with her siblings Robbie and Tiffy, and cousin Bubba. It's been ages since Daisy Jane and I have last hung out with Sonja so it's nice that she and her fam dropped by for a visit. I've hung out with Robbie and Bubba a handful of times while this is the first time I've met Tiffy.

Sonja's been meaning to stop by the camp for a while but life has gotten busy. She also wanted her dad and stepmom to come along too but then something came up so they were unable to make it at the last minute. Same thing for her grandma, though to be honest, camping isn't really her thing so it's probably for the best that she didn't come.

Old Thelma Lou may come across as a cantankerous old lady but she really is a nice person once you get to know her. Underneath that rough exterior is a protective, dedicated, and tough mother figure who wants what's best for you, even if she kinda has a hard time showing how much she cares about you. We video chatted with her before the concert and she's still the same old Thelma Lou, keeping an eye on her children, grandchildren, and their friends in her own unconventional ways.

We also chatted with Buzz and Skeeter, both who are doing well. The reason why they weren't able to join us at the camp is because Skeeter's pregnant again. She and Buzz were going to have a boy last fall but there were complications and the baby was stillborn. So far things are moving along smoothly, but to be safe, Skeeter's on strict bed rest. In about four months, Sonja, Robbie, and Tiffy will have a little sister!

Sonja has been busy working on her graphic novel, which she plans to release in the fall. She's a freelance graphic designer and illustrator, known for posting relatable and funny comics online. I love her art - it's got a sketchy and loose style that's sorta minimal yet super expressive. When I got into digital art, I took some inspiration from Sonja's work by using pencil brushes for line art and the gouache brush for coloring.

After working in the studio for hours on the book over the past several weeks, Sonja felt she could use a change of scenery - which was the main reason why she wanted to come to the camp. She also wants to get back into using traditional mediums like painting so she brought along some canvases and paints. The great outdoors is perfect for finding inspiration when you're in a rut!

Robbie runs a fix-it shop in Elmstown with two of his friends. His specialties are clocks and anything that has a lock thanks to his grandma and dad - Thelma Lou likes collecting clocks and Buzz's a locksmith. He's the reason why the family saves so much on repairs - Robbie and his friends can pretty much fix anything! Elmstown is pretty far but I'm keeping his business card in case I need something fixed like my computer since that'll be more cost effective than sending it to the store where I'll probably get overcharged.

It's a good thing we have Robbie here to help KK Slider with the equipment. He had some old amps and guitars that he'd been meaning to get fixed but since they were custom made, it's hard to find parts that need replacement. Thankfully, Robbie never leaves home without his toolbox and with his magic, we were able to improve the stage setup.

Bubba's still living with Thelma Lou, though he's in the process of moving out to his own place. He's not leaving Rayetown though, just moving to the other side of town so he can be closer to the post office. Along with delivering packages for the citizens of Rayetown, Bubba's also a drummer and occasional lead singer for The Cogwheels, a local band that regularly performs at the Chili Bowl.

Thelma Lou and Bubba have a sweet relationship. He's the oldest of the Harp grandchildren through Thelma Lou's daughter. His parents pretty dumped him on Thelma Lou's doorstep when they moved halfway across the country, which wasn't very nice of them. His mom and grandma have a stormy relationship so that explains why Thelma Lou's kinda overprotective of him, and in return he respects her a lot. Recently though, Bubba and his mom have been keeping in touch sporadically - thanks to Uncle Buzz and Aunt Skeeter. As for his dad though, since he walked out on his mom, he hasn't heard from him in years, which he feels is probably for the best.

And there's Tiffy, the youngest (so far) of the grandchildren. She's seven and a half years old and likes to sing and dance. This is her first time being away from home for a couple days so she's pretty excited about it. Plus, she gets to spend time with her siblings, something she always looks forward to since they live far from home. By the time she was born, Sonja and Robbie had already long moved out of Rayetown. Up until Tiffy came along, Sonja and Robbie rarely visited home, a deliberate choice that they both kinda regretted but at the same time felt it was necessary.

Tiffy's looking forward to the new baby - and she's absolutely certain that things will work out this time. She was really bummed about what happened with her brother, especially since she always wanted a little sibling. Buzz and Skeeter had been trying for years to have another kid - they didn't have Tiffy until about six years into their marriage - and that was after being told many times that they missed the boat. It's a good thing they didn't give up or else Tiffy wouldn't be here today!

While helping KK Slider set up for the concert, we also went sightseeing outside the camp. Now that the weather's warming up and the sun's staying out longer, we can venture further out. The first place we went was the mountains, where Sonja was inspired to pull out her canvases and paints. She's been working on landscapes and backgrounds so it was the perfect opportunity. Since she had a lot of fun doing that, I figured we could do the same in other places outside the camp like the woods or the meadows.

As they were testing out the equipment, KK and Bubba were jamming out while Tiffy danced. She definitely inherited Buzz and Skeeter's dance skills! Tap dancing and ballet are her favorites and she definitely wants to branch out to other forms of dance. Her parents are looking into more dance classes for Tiffy, which she's excited for. One of the reasons why she's looking forward to having another sibling is so she can have a dance partner in the future. Imagine, Tiffy and her little sister, dancing together!

Later, Robbie joined in on the jam session, playing the bass. Apollo, Static, and Cherry joined in as well, and before we knew it, all of them were writing new songs that eventually became the setlist for the concert! Sonja later got into the jam session after Daisy Jane showed her around the cabin and her studio. I sense a collaboration between the two in the near future...

Around 5 we finished setting up for the concert and began preparing for a barbecue dinner. By the time all the food was set up, it was time to rock and roll! I have to say, KK and the campers really outdid themselves with the stage setup. It was a mix of performances by KK Slider and jam sessions by us. The concert was an awesome experience!

In the span of one hour, Bubba and KK wrote Road Ode. KK came up with the intricate melody that's a perfect fusion of his signature sound along with elements of classic rock. Bubba came up with the lyrics, taking inspiration from his relationships with his mother and grandma. Easily one of the highlights of the night.

Apollo sang lead on a number he co-authored with KK Slider titled Old Man Blues. It's a bluesy rock and roll tune with a catchy guitar riff that's stuck in my head as I write this. The light show visuals really add to the vibe of this song, elevating it to another level.

Static and Cherry performed Heavy Metal Ballad as a trio with KK Slider - another song that was just finished today. The song was actually three different compositions that merged into one. Cherry has been playing around with a cool heavy metal beat for a while. She had a good thing going on but had trouble turning it into something, so she put it aside in hopes of finding the right spark to kick it off. Static came up with lyrics for the chorus, originally through a little ditty he called Lightning Muses. And like Cherry, he had something but couldn't figure out what direction he wanted to take it. Then along comes KK Slider, who saw the potential in these two wildly different compositions. Somehow, with his verses and additional melodies, he created an instant hit!

In an unexpected surprise, KK Slider got Daisy Jane and I on to perform a new KK original as well as a couple songs from Lilac and the Cadillacs. The new song, Sky Blue Twilight, is a collaboration between me, Daisy Jane, and KK Slider. It was something we came up with a while back, and I had almost forgotten about it until today. I'm pretty rusty from songwriting but working on this piece was pretty fun! I really should get back into writing music...

Sonja, Robbie, and Tiffy also joined Bubba on stage for another new song, titled All That Rock 'n' Roll. Tiffy sang lead vocals with Sonja on the keys and Robbie on bass. Along with being a fantastic dancer, Tiffy's a great singer! I filmed the whole thing for Bubba so he can send it to Thelma Lou, Buzz, and Skeeter. I have to say, KK Slider and Bubba make a great songwriting team!

Another fun song is Violet Blaze, an upbeat rock and roll tune by KK Slider, Candi, Kabuki, and Spike. KK Slider really outdid himself on that guitar solo! With riffs like that, there's no other song fitting to be titled Violet Blaze. What one can't put into words, music expresses it - one just has to listen and feel.

And of course, in between the new songs were KK Slider classics, but remixed. It's amazing how changing up the genre can give well known songs a fresh makeover! That's what I love about KK Slider's music - the versatility. In terms of reinventing his sound while staying true to himself, I'd say KK Slider succeeded with flying colors!

Aside from Tiffy and the early risers, the rest of us have been rocking and rolling way past midnight. I'm still a bit buzzed from the concert, which just ended less than an hour ago, so I'm gonna unwind for a bit before going to bed.

#animal crossing #animal crossing pocket camp #Diary of a Junebug #headcanon ramble

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itsthe-neo-zone · 4 years

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Wands and Potions - NCTdream & WayV

Please read the Masterlist before continuing ahead with the chapter.

Warnings: read the warnings in the masterlist linked above, song recommendations can be found there too.

A/N: Thank you to those who appreciate and support this piece of work! You know who you are, and thank you to my wonderful followers and taglist! you make this possible.

Chapter 16:

“I wanted to ask you about something.” Selene whispered; she didn’t have to be loud; she was sitting on the edge of a log in the clearing near the edge of a small island on the black lake.

“Fire away,” Yangyang was behind her, plaiting her soft locks, the feeling of the gold-like shimmer beneath his hands calmed him slightly. He was about to reveal his thoughts and deepest desires to her.

“Is it true, the whole dark arts thing.” She breathed out Yangyang could feel how she visibly tensed beneath his gaze. He looked down at her shoulders, the way they curved in slightly. She felt vulnerable around him. “You’re taught the dark arts?”

The exasperated sigh she heard from him was worrying her and his silence increased the level of anxiety in her tenfold. She felt his slender fingers let go of the strands of hair she let cascade down.

She had ever gone this far away from castle alone. “Yes,” he murmured; he took his steps to come stand before her. “I’ve done things… that are regrettable, but I’d never try to harm anyone.” Crouching to be at eye level he looked into her eyes with full sincerity.

“It’s alright.” she crooked her head to the side breathing out, the stray strands of her hair fell down past her eyes “You’re not scared?” he asked puzzled, his eyes wavered slightly looking anywhere but her.

“No,” pulling up all her courage she smiled at him, assuring the slender figure before her. “I’m not.”

“Even if I tell you I know of the unforgiveable curses.” He was a little sceptical in mentioning them.

“Even if you tell me about those.” Selene didn’t hesitate she answered immediately letting him know she trusted him, it scared her a little, but she believed he was good inside. He never judged her for being a half-blood and although it was difficult for him, he maintained their friendship.

“So, why did you bring me here?” Selene looks around. She knew of her whereabouts, but she was confused, why specifically here?

The two continued walking along the path into the woodland sitting on the island, the neighbouring patch of land had the grave of the preceding headmaster of Hogwarts. They began talking, Yangyang explaining what he believed and where his affiliations lied.

“Gellert Grindelwald was right. He had a plan to keep us away from hiding. All wizard kind. Durmstrang students look up to him, we recognised him as our leader.” Yangyang glanced around, they wandered off into the main coppice, letting themselves get caught in the magnificence of the nature.

“Do you think like him, do you believe that wizard kind deserve to rule, that it’s your birthright?” Selene was wondering, she wanted to understand what he believed to be his right. She wanted to get her thoughts around his ideals and beliefs.

“I do.” He walked up to a certain tree gathering from its leaking sap. “Tree sap must be quite rare where you come from.” she comically pondered, Yangyang grinned turning to face her “Just a hobby.”

“So, you think there are powerful wizarding families that would be willing to continue Grindelwald’s noble work?”

“Definitely, I’m surprised your family isn’t in on it too.” Selene chuckle; she thought of her obsessive blood supremacist mother and her family.

“Don’t be, I’m sure they’re a part of it, my family is intense when it comes to this kind of ordeals.”

[01:36PM]

Selene had been spending the rest of the free afternoon she had in the empty potions room. Professor Giverlein left the empty room letting her know there were no more potions classes that day leaving her with everything she could ever need.

“There’s no way I’m going to get this?” Selene whined thrusting her digits past the sides of her head rubbing her sore scalp. She was beyond stressed.

Sleepless nights, Chenle and his problems on one side. Rose and Albus with their family stress on the other; her own family ordeals tugging at her, the prophecy the portrait spoke about, the lestrange manor invitation, Yangyang and his affiliations to the return of the Ancient Sacred 28 and then Scorpius and his solemn depression. Selene was trying to solve too many problems at once.

She felt as if it was all coming back, as if the matters were taking her physical body and heath as tribute she was going to regurgitate. Holding it in, she lifted the elixir the potion she had been working on secretly aside her schoolwork.

The bitter after taste was awful but she withstood it for the benefits the potion would give her. This was old magic; you’d give something up for the taking of another. In this case it was her blood.

Selene hid the bubbling liquid in the cauldron, she lifted the rusty metal towards her shelf setting a lid on top and pushing it inwards quickly to sheath the brewing of the elixir. She took her seat back at the edge of the table.

Selene was reminded of the tournament happening from the exaggerated shouts and yells from the harbouring window. The voices came from students a year or two older, closer to Yangyang’s age. Selene sat there dazed for a moment. It was getting closer to the winter break, meaning the deadline for the potion project was creeping nearer.

Playing with the leaves of the daisy root; Selene remembered what she had gone through to get the foliage. She recalled what Chenle did for her. He saved her from the hell she was going through, twice. That should prove that he cares.

But why do I still hate him for his harsh words and cold demeanour?

[06:17PM]

[Selene Pov]

“I got your message. What is it?” I rushed to the library. Moving past tables I saw a crouched lyra she was shaking, and I mean shaking. Almost vibrating.

“What on earth happened. And why did you send that idiot Irene to tell-” I stopped my whining because I realised this was real, she was in tears and it looked like anymore and she’d lose it all. I lifted her up swinging the robes she had on the floor over her shoulder blades.

Olivia comes rushing into the library, I could hear the frantic panic in her voice as she desperately wanders about the immense hall of the library.

“Oh thank heavens you’re here!” I speak agitatedly my voice breaking, “Olivia what’s happening to her.”

“He found out!” Olivia crouched she grabbed the girls palm, “Hopefully this works.” She pulled an elixir out of the robes pocket taking a couple drops and setting them on the girls wrist.

“Who found out?” I was panicking, I should be keeping my calm but the view before my own two eyes was scaring me.

“Se-Selene, he saw, it- I didn’t. he saw E-everything.” I hushed her, “It’s alright, I understand. We’ll solve this.”

It looked like Olivia understood what lyra was blabbering about, the rush in her hands and movements forced me to lift the dropped unknown potion and take care of the small container and its excess drops.

“I’ll explain later but you have to get Scorpius right now. Do whatever you need to do he must come here right now.” I nod already running off I pushed past the main library doors not caring or even asking questions on my Scorpius had to be there.

I was running even faster than I had when I heard Scorpius’ voice in my head, using every force I had in the rest of my body I managed to clear the thoughts for a couple more seconds sending a energy fuelled message to the blond slytherin boy.

“Where are you going?” Jade yelled after my speeding self, she watched me turn towards the dungeons of the castle, following she tried to catch up but as a speeding bolt, the only thing she caught was my maroon hair trailing off behind me.

I reached the entrance of the Slytherin common room. It was guarded by two gargoyle statures and a password. Never being down here before; I panicked. Lyra didn’t look like she had much time before she was out.

Catching sight of the one person I didn’t want to be around, I groaned. Why him, why Chenle of all freaking people? It just had to work that way, turning around to face him I forcibly pushed down any form of resentment and dignity I had.

“Where is Scorpius?”

“Look what the snake swallowed? It’s Selene Adams, have you come to apologise?” Jisung who was next to the blond spat smirking, the smug grin on his face annoying me more than it should.

“I’m not here to apologise to anyone.” I glared back at him; his words made me feel like shit. “Where’s Scorpius, Chenle?” I repeated my question my body language visibly showing I was under a time limit.

“Tell me?”

“Selene they’re not going to help.” The familiar echo from behind me voiced down the damp and dreary corridor. “Jade please help me, lyra has fallen and Olivia sent me to get Scorpius, its urgent.”

She nodded pushing past the two; specifically Jisung. “Ill get him now, wait out here.”

“Be fast. Please!”

I paced up and down the width of the small corridor, Jisung’s face immediately changed realisation dawned over his sharp features and he quickly followed the dark raven female; leaving the blond boy standing a meter away from me.

It felt awkward. I didn’t want to talk to him or even be around him. Though I could feel his penetrating gaze it pervaded my head trying to understand my thoughts, defiling me.

“Stop that.”

“What? Stop what?” he sneered his voice was back to the usual the voice he always had; the softness that was once there when we were at the mansion was nowhere to be found. I guess snakes venom spreads fast, especially of that snake is Rosier.

“Your staring.” I snapped back.

“So now I can’t use my eyes, and who said I take orders from you? Filthy half breed.” His words took me back to the times I’d let myself be lectured and broken down by him.

I wasn’t going to answer but the look of pure aggravation on my face said enough. Watching the now appeared Scorpius drag me off was enough to let it slide, lyra was more important anyways.

“You can tell me what happened later and why I’m desperately needed when Lyra’s the one in trouble but now we need to get to her as fast as possible.”

After pulling Scorpius on a wild goose chase to the library then noticing Olivia took Lyra to the lunch table on the outside of the castle gates and into the gardens past the wooden bridge. I had finally made it completely emphysematous.

“What is it, what is going on?” the blond boy was extremely confused and shocked. His movements were extremely erratic.

“You’re going to have to sit through this one, Scorpius.” Olivia spoke she was hesitant. Weary to all his reactions.

“Do I go? Or what do I…” after catching enough breath I ask the unanswered question. It seemed like this was a private ordeal, I was unsure of whether it seemed ok for me to be here.

“You’re related to him; he may need some ‘moral support’ through this.” Olivia hissed she was put in an uncomfortable position; I could see it myself. She lifted the lifeless right arm that belonged to lyra.

The cold wind brushing past our stiff bodies allowed me to lean into Scorpius for warmth and comfort. Though I think he was the one who needed comfort now, he looked extremely anxious.

“Do you know what’s happening?” I look into his eyes leaning over his shoulder. Scorpius gleams smiling lightly at my pouted facial expression.

“You look cute.” He mumbles, pulling me down to sit next to him. He sighed, it seemed like he had a rough day today. “To be completely honest, I don’t know what this is about, but I have a bad feeling about this if my predictions are correct.”

The unease was evident in the way he stations himself waiting for Lyra to wake from her deep slumber.

“Why did you ask me to bring him here?” My question was directed to Olivia, but I couldn’t take my eyes of Lyra her tired and overworked emotional toll showing through her face. I was stupid not to notice, the glimmer once in her soft eyes no longer there.

“I should have been there for her like she did for me.” I muttered voice breaking, it sounded weaker than it should have. Watching the ravenclaw witch wake her up from the antidote of the elixir she looked shaken and dissipated.

“Selene, Scorpius?” her voice was barely above a whisper, lyra woke up but she was still in a haze. “I’ll let Lyra explain, just give her time to awaken.” Olivia added letting lyra sit up, I moved to help the brunette witch. My friend, a sister to me.

After giving her a few moments to calm I spoke up nudging her to speak gently. She had energized just enough to talk. But as soon as she looked up and into Scorpius’ eyes the tears started. He was shocked, his lips trembling wanting to say something but unable to speak.

“What’s wrong? What happened?” I was truly disordered, completely flummoxed. The two were reacting lie they had shared some sort information. Everyone was reacting strangely. Even Jade was understanding her eyes flashed when she heard of Lyra being hurt.

“I think I know, but I’m unsure…” Scorpius was as still as a stone sculpture at this moment. “And it’s scaring me.” He breathed looking at her weak shivering fingers before him, they laid on the table as she sobbed, “Is it a possibility that I’m- I mean, that you’re…

Her voice was incredibly shaky, she yearned to hug him but it was difficult... Everything was telling her not to push his limits.

“I wanted to, -really- I wanted to tell you for so long. But fath-father didn’t let me. He kept me away too. I’m so sorry.”

@ajuniceuajuniceu @kkuljungwoo @sensiblebutch @kangkinoa @nctzen2020 @mystic-jungkook @merryandhappylele @bcbymingi @mochischeeks @rilakunma @jaehyunspaghetti @commentgirl @99jjh @johnnys-wifeu @misaraem @apricottulips @h2ogamergirl @angelsnowflake

#nctdream series #wayv senarios #kpop fanfic #nct hogwarts au #nct chenle #wayv yangyang #NCT 127 #nct fanfic #nct wayv #wayv x reader

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nad-zeta · 4 years

Text

Match up! (~˘▾˘)~

Hi again…can I get an Ikevamp match-up? I got curious on who I would end up with tbh😅😅😅

About myself…I never lose a temper, I am extremely shy and quiet, it’s extremely difficult for me to trust new people. I am around 5'9 feet tall, above shoulder length messy brown hair tied into a ponytail; I would be mistaken for a boy if I let my hair down. I wouldn’t even notice if they mistook me for a boy until someone addresses me as one😅😅😅. I look intimidating at first sight because 1.)I am silent most of the time, I look cold and aloof, I never smile, and 2.) I can be blunt without noticing + my difficulty of showing emotions would make them think I’m judging their soul *yikes…whoops?😅😅😅*. That intimidates most people and when in reality when I am the one who feels more intimidated by them. 😅😅

Once I warm up, I have this side that only my family and close friends know. I get along well with anybody; I won’t judge people for their race, beliefs, personality, religion, and all. It doesn’t exist here when I befriend them 😊. I have this weird sense of humor that can turn dark and morbid without noticing… 😅😅 I am like a child at Christmas when it comes to new art supplies, baking, and cooking new recipes; I love sharing it with my family and friends. I can compare my strength to a guy and I can carry heavy things without a problem😅… I love to play the guitar and I used to play the piano when I was younger and I missed playing it. I’m extremely rusty after not practicing for 7 years now😥. I can still read music notes, and it will take longer for me to navigate the piano if I play it. I mostly draw and paint right now tho…

I’m not a fan of wearing girly clothes, and I would rather stick to wearing good ol’ shirts, polo (long/short sleeves), pants, and hoodies style. I avoid drinking alcohol because I easily get tipsy; I’d turn into a loud drunk after a few sips. My friends would often keep me away from who knows what they’re reading and watching stuff… Told me that they don’t want me to taint my innocent eyes and soul or something like that…I never cuss even if I’m used to hearing my classmates swear like a sailor. The first time my friends hear me accidentally swear, they look at me in horror and demanded me to know where I got that word🤣🤣

I don’t like loud and crowded places, I would feel dizzy and suffocated if I stayed there for too long. There will be times on where I’m nowhere to be found since I would look for an isolated place somewhere around the corner for me to hide whenever I want to draw or paint. I am not really confident of my skills in drawing; I have a bad habit of hiding those from my family *which annoys them*. I have another bad habit of being stubborn whenever I got sick, and I wouldn’t even let anyone know I am unwell because I do not want anyone to worry about me. But when someone noticed, I would admit that I am sick. *I would go to school even when sick so I can finish my school works because, whenever I miss a class, there will always be some of them who would deliberately not tell me that I missed something in class so…i learned the hard way.😅* …

I easily get startled by sudden noises if I let my guard down: objects making a loud sound when they drop. I don’t know how to deal with physical affections and would probably get stiff and flustered. I’m not used to guys hugging me cuz would go stiff whenever a guy hugs me *I love hugs and all but… I’m not used to being hugged by guys… 🙁* I’m a bit of a disaster-prone whenever I’m outside, and would accidentally hit my head on lower tree branches and lower places, sometimes I would accidentally sprain my ankle on the uneven ground *if someone made me wear heels especially if it’s stilettos*. 😅😅😅

Yay: I love my coffee with a ridiculous amount of milk and with less sugar; baking, cooking, sweets, drawing, painting, digital art, music, cats, dogs, pokemon, Manga, anime.

Nay: I despise certain types of vegetables that are bitter and slimy. My face would shrivel up seeing those kinds of vegetables. Animal cruelty is a big no-no for me; I normally don’t get angry, and I forgive people within a blink of an eye *that annoys my family a lot😅* but, I will make an exception for that.

I can control my own anger, that no one can tell I am fuming.

If it’s ok with you…😅😅😅 Took me a long time to figure out how to send a more detailed one. 😂😂 I think that’s enough spilling tmi about myself… Whoopsie…😅😅 🦊🐱🦊🐱

Hi hi love! ❤🌻Thank you so much for the request! I had so much fun writing this up for ya and i hope you enjoy it dear! ❤🦊Also i hope you are keeping safe and well and have a super good day!🐇❤ Also sooooorrrry for taking 2 billion years with this! hehe so without further ado........... @xarexraven

So I match you with…………… Theo

The first time you met everyone, you were so quiet and reserved hiding behind Comte. They took one look at you and instantly thought, “oooh great another male guest.” You were wearing a hoodie and jeans and your hair tie keeping your hair in a ponytail, had just snapped as you walked through the door. Comte gave you a gentle push to introduce yourself, and one look at your intimidating face, had the entire household believing that they had another tsundere in their midst.

During dinner, you had hardly noticed that they all thought you were a boy. The residents all started retiring to their rooms after dessert, when Sebastian handed you a final cup of coffee, “Here you are sir.” Your eyes widened, and you started up at Sebastian in confusion, too shy to correct him/ That is when Comte who was still sitting beside you gave your head a gentle pat, “Sebastian it is quite rude to mistake our precious guest for a boy, especially one who is beautiful.” Both you and Sebastian were left blushing at the comment, that’s when Vincent, who was the only other resident still at the table, spoke up. “I have to agree with Comte, it is not nice to call someone so pretty, a boy.” The resident angel beamed up at you, while Sebastian apologised profusely, and through it all, the only thing you could think was, “man, this is awkward.”

The next morning after Comte explained the whole, everyone in this mansion is a vampire thing, you wandered around the mansion aimlessly. Well, that is until Napoleon came across you and grabbed your hand, dragging you to the dining room, where a feast of sugary goodness laid wait. He told you that he had made way too many pancakes and that they needed help finishing them. No one in the mansion had seen you smile yet, but at the sight of the giant stack of sugary pancakes, you couldn’t help but beam. Vincent had spotted you and flagged you over to sit next to him. “Oi knaap, don’t go hog all the pancakes, save some of the rest of us will you,” Theo loudly exclaimed as you loaded up your plate to a stack of pancakes almost as high and his. At the sound of Theo calling you a boy, Vincent narrowed his eyes at Theo and started scolding his younger brother for being so rude. Theo stared at you in disbelief but with your hair now in a pony tail he simply shrugged and gave you a new nickname “Hondjie”. With the misunderstanding finally cleared up once and for all, you made quick work of polishing off the stack of pancakes with the three men.

After lunch Vincent gave Theo a detailed list of art supplies that he needed, and at the mention of art supplies your ears perked up. Your eyes gleamed in excitement, and your cold, aloof exterior changed to one of an excited child on Christmas morning. Your cheeks were starting to hurt, that had been a record of two smiles in one day. Although even though your smiling felt weird to you, to the three me it was the most beautiful sight. Theo took notice of your enthusiasm and in his typical indifferent voice, asked if you wanted to come along for the ride. You without a second thought nodded, you basically radiated excitement as you went upstairs to put on some shoes and get a jacket. You met Theo out in the foyer, and soon the two of you made your way to the art supply store.

Comte had told you that you were free to break the bank and buy anything and everything your heart desired, on the condition that he would be able to see your first piece of art created with the new supplies.

You were so excited at the thought of new art supplies and being able to continue your passion for art, even though you were stuck in the past, that you let your guard down a little with Theo. He asked you in his usual blunt way, why you were dressed like a boy and not wearing skirts and dresses like other women. You told him that you were most comfortable wearing pants and hoodies. The way your eyes were beaming, low key reminded him of his precious brother, and he found himself low key drawn to your pure, innocent energy.

The two of you spent hours and hours picking out the perfect supplies, you were low key shook at Theo’s knowledge about art and supplies. He actually helped you pick out the best supplies for your personal drawing and painting style. After spending hours in the art shop. The two of you made your way to the waiting carriage, when Theo spotted an ice cream store, his eyes lit up at the thought of sweets. When you saw how excited he was, you suggested that the two of you investigate the shop before heading back.

For the first time in Theo van Gogh whole existence, a woman had paid for him. He was sitting across from you in the ice cream parlour while you were happily eating away at your sugary treat, still trying to process it all. You had paid as a token of thanks for him helping you pick out the best art supplies. What shocked him even more was during argument about the bill you legit gave him a deadpan look and bluntly said that you were ganna treat him no matter what. After that comment you legit left him blushing and speechless, you truly were a strange woman.

The two of you sat in silence for a few moments when you finally decided to break the ice. You curiously asked why it was that he knew so much about art, and that’s when he revealed that he was an art dealer. And so the rest of the afternoon was spent chatting about art, paintings, drawings and your mutual passion and appreciation for the trade. To say Theo was pleasantly surprised by you would be an understatement, his first impression of you was now so laughable compared to the person sitting before him. The first time he saw you, he thought you an aloof, little boy who seemed to judge him down to the very depths of his soul. Yet as he got to know you, he had come to realise that there was much more to you.

In the weeks to follow you seemed to surprise Theo more and more. The first thing that had this boy sister shook was your inhuman strength. One day as you were helping Isaac sorts out the library. The two of you had managed to fill up 2 huge boxes of junk and clutter that could be stored in the mansions attic. Isaac lifted one of the boxes and determined that it was too heavy for the both of you, so he went to call Theo or Leo who would have an easier job with doing the heavy lifting. As Theo rounded to the corner to help move the boxes, he almost rammed straight into you. “Oi hondjie, you are going to hurt yourself let me take…” As he took the box from your hands, his face started going red, and a vein in his neck started popping out. The box you had been carrying was obviously almost too heavy for him to carry, he turned around swiftly and started walking up the attic stairs. It took you no time to catch up to him carrying another heavy box of your own. At this point you could see a bead of sweat roll down his face. Theo was determined to carry this box up, there was no way he was going to be shown up by a girl, especially one that he liked. He finally made it to the top of the attic and place the box down with a huff, you had to laugh at the small blush that was still on his cheeks.

Just then out of the corner of your eye, an old piano caught your attention. Theo eyed you curiously still recovering from the blow to his ego, as you sat down on the dusty piano chair and blew the dust of the piano keys. Your fingers moved to their own accord, gliding across the keys to play a familiar song from muscle memory. Theo sat down next to you and closed his eyes to absorb the beautiful melody. As the last note echoed through the attic, Theo opened his eyes, and sapphire eyes glared down into the depths of your soul. He had honestly never in his life felt more drawn to anyone, before he could say anything your stomach gave a loud growl. It was now your turn to blush and look away in embarrassment. Theo then leads you downstairs, where he whipped you up some stroopwafels.

You tied the apron around your waist and helped Theo prepare the sugary dessert. You were so excited and happy, you loved baking and learning/exchanging new recipes. Once the two of you were done making the sweet snack, you sat down and munched on the Stroop waffles and coffee. The rest of the afternoon was spent chatting about your mutual hate for bitter slimy vegetables and love for dogs as you ate the sugary snack and sipped on coffee. This actually started a tradition between the two of you, where once in a while the two of you would exchange recipes and cook your favourite dishes together.

One day as Theo joined Comte in his room for some tea, he saw a beautiful painting hanging behind Comte, it was just filled with so much emotion. “Hey, Comte, did Vincent paint that one, I haven’t seen it before.” Comte gleamed in delight and told him that you were the artist responsible for the masterpiece and that you had given it to him as a thank you gift for the art supplies. Theo was shook, he knew you loved art but to have created such a masterpiece. He stomped his way to your room and knock on your door. He could hear shuffling from the other side, he swung the door open and spotted you throwing a heap full of tissues in the dustbin and hiding the trashcan behind you. All it took was one look at your red nose, pale face and tired eyes to know that you were clearly sick. You tried to play it off and make your way past Theo to help Sebastian with lunch service, when Theo picked you up and plonked you down on your bed. The second your head hit the pillow, your tired eyes closed and you lost consciousness. You woke a few hours later to Theo sitting by your side gently stroking your hair while placing a cold washcloth on your forehead every now and then. You stubbornly tried to convince him that you weren’t sick. Theo narrowed his eyes at you and in a soft, gentle tone said, “Hondjie can you just stop being stubborn for one minute and let me take care of you.” Theo had nursed you back to full health and you got to see a new side of Theo that you had never seen before, his sweet kind gentle side. It was actually during this time when Theo had confessed his undying love for you.

Theo love love loved your art and would insist you show him your masterpieces once you are done with them. He knew your weren't confident in your skills and would usually hide your drawings so he did what any reasonable person would do. He tickled you until you gave up the hiding spot so he could see your creation.

He also knows you don’t like crowded places or loud noises, so he actually cleared up a room for you to use as your own art room to work in peace, where no one was allowed to disturb you.

He knew you would get dizzy and feel suffocated whenever the two of you would walk through a busy crowd in the markets. So now every time the two of you cuties go out, he was sure to plan your route using back roads to avoid unnecessary crowds or he would bring King along for a walk with you. Even though King is a sweet, friendly golden retriever, he has come to love you and will do whatever it takes to protect the new member of his pack. Even if that means angry staring down people so they can part like the red sea before you and Theo.

Theo absolutely loves you to the moon and back. He loves your sweet innocent mind and will always cover your ears and glare daggers at Arthur whenever he is telling stories of previous nights conquests as he “doesn’t want Arthur to taint your innocent mind and soul.”

He absolutely loves to finally have someone around who gets his dark, morbid sense of humour and who can equally match his weird jokes. Often when the two of you are together, you would be quick-firing the weirdest jokes at each other, while being in stitches laughing at each other.

Theo also loves how you have similar beliefs as him in not judging people. It was due to this that he was completely able to open up about his past with you. You helped him to heal and grow from his past traumas. You helped catch him many a time before falling in the abyss, dragging him out back into the light.

Both of you were pretty awkward when it came to physical affection at the beginning of your relationship. However, after many, a stiff, awkward hug followed by a fit of laughter from how awkward the two of you were, eventually the two of you started to get more comfortable around each other.

Now when Theo cuddles you, as you draw him as a manga character, the two of you chuckle at the memory of how stiff and awkward it was the first time the two of you had even held hands. Theo will 100% always insist on holding your hand whenever the two of you go outside as he knows just how accident-prone you are when it comes to nature.

Ultimately Theo loves to spend quiet evenings with you snuggled up in his arms as the two of you exchange stories of each other days. He loves to read all your little manga’s you manage to create for him. Although he will never admit it, he always gets super excited when you tell him about an anime you watched or show him your newest manga drawing. He will shower you with endless amounts of hugs and cuddles from the moment you go to bed till the moment you wake up. And every morning without fail Theo will greet you with a freshly bred cup of milky coffee and a kiss.

Other potential matches…………… Vincent

I hope you enjoyed this dear and i hope you have the best day! 🦊🌻❤

#matchups #ikesen matchup #match ups #ikevamp matchup #ikevamp match up #theo ikevamp #ikevamp theodorus #Theodorus van Gogh #ikemen vampire theodorus #submission

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yesloverboy · 4 years

Text

Baby You’re a Haunted House (Iwan Rheon!Mick Mars x Reader)

Requested: Anon

“Hi! Could you do a Mick Mars one shot where Mick and the reader are really close friends and they’re watching a scary movie at his house and she’s scared so he lets her stay over. And she has trouble sleeping so she sneaks into his room and they both awkwardly admit they like each other?”

note: finally, after an arduous hiatus brought upon by school, I have a new little request to add to the library. I’m a little rusty so I hope it’s up to par. I don’t deserve your patience, but I’m glad y’all have stuck around. :’) (also if anyone wants to change their taglist preferences, lmk)

word count: 3,219

[no warnings! just two idiots in love!]

tags: @lauravic, @lululovesgwtw, @kingbouji3, @oldschoolimagineblog, @thecrue, @colsonbakersnoseringmain

To say you had a stressful week would be an understatement. Despite your best efforts to hold it together, things just seemed to go completely wrong of their own accord. You burnt your toast at breakfast, found an angry pink parking ticket on your windshield, and spent the entirety of your day working your fingers to the bone. It could have been your sour mood, or the melodramatic attitude you had developed since waking up that morning– but the day seemed completely and utterly cursed.

Even as you leave your shift, you can’t help but stare bitterly at the sun as it dips lazily into the horizon, wondering what exactly you did to make everything feel so shitty. It’s a Friday for Christ’s sake and it seems as though you hadn’t even gotten the opportunity to look forward to the weekend, let alone make plans.

Speaking of Fridays, you think, eyes flitting down to the watch dangling loosely from your wrist. The hands point toward 6:45, making it known that you are running incredibly and unbelievably late. Flustered, you sprint to your car, keys jingling noisily between your fingers. You should have left at least half an hour ago, but there had been so much going on at work that you lost track of time.

“Shit!” you exclaim, jamming your key into the ignition and speeding recklessly out of the parking lot. Tires screech against the asphalt as a cloud of dust erupts from behind you, settling only when you skid out onto the open road. The sky quickly shifts from honey orange to dusky purple as you retreat from the glittering lights of the city, instantly becoming more relaxed at the sight of sparse houses and distant mountains.

You and your best friend, Mick, have a Friday night tradition of staying in and watching movies while the rest of his friends– and bandmates –go out to wreak havoc on the remaining population of Los Angeles. Mick is similar to you in a lot of ways; you’re both the strong and silent type, usually only speaking when spoken and always responding with a biting comment. The two of you met in a record store off Sunset Boulevard, quickly bonding over your love for the emerging metal scene and your hatred for cheap glam rock. Nothing was ever smoke and mirrors with Mick– no, he was raw and honest. Something you admire far more than you’re willing to admit.

Fingers tightening around the steering wheel, you suppress the feeling of your heart twitching excitedly against your ribs. You aren’t sure what’s been up with you lately, but every time you’ve seen Mick these past few weeks your heart has begun to skip along to an unknown rhythm. This new sensation makes you grit your teeth in frustration. Mick is your best friend, you have no reason to feel anxious around him. Right?

Typically, when something abnormal is going on in your life, your first instinct is to tell Mick, but you already know this isn’t the kind of conversation you’re prepared to have with him. These days, it feels as though Mick is the only person you can really be yourself around and you can’t imagine jeopardizing your friendship for the sake of talking about your feelings, of all things.

With a heavy sigh, you pull into the sloping curve of Mick’s driveway, hoping the walk to his doorstep will be just enough time to get your head back on your shoulders. You rap on his door with a heavy hand, listening to the sound of crickets thrumming softly in the distance. It’s times like this where you find yourself thankful that Mick decided to move outside of the Los Angeles city limits. Sure, the drive is long and the daytime traffic could be excruciating, but there’s at least some semblance of stillness in the air.

Mick pulls open the door, greeting you with a soft smile and bright eyes. Rather than wondering what took you so long, he gives your disheveled appearance a once over and simply asks, “Long day?”

You nod, the fatigued slump in your shoulders only getting heavier as Mick motions for you to step inside. Abandoning your jacket and keys by the door, you flop onto Mick’s plush sofa with a content groan.

“Sorry I’m late,” you mumble, voice partially muffled by the pillow pressed firmly against your cheek. At this point, you had been over to Mick’s place so many times that it was slowly starting to feel like your own. You roll on your side, arms cradling the side of your head as you gaze upward with glassy eyes.

Mick just chuckles and lifts your legs so that he can sit underneath them, allowing your calves to rest comfortably in his lap. His fingers ghost the exposed skin of your ankle, making your breath hitch uncomfortably in your throat. The gesture is so familiar and yet, you can’t help but feel as though it were the first time. To your relief, Mick doesn’t seem to take note of your sudden uneasiness, and instead picks up a video tape from the glass coffee table in front of you.

“I rented A Nightmare on Elm Street,” Mick grins, “you seen it yet?”

You sit up, eyebrows knitted in concentration as you study the tape, unsurprised to see that it’s a horror movie. The cover art depicts a young girl staring entranced at a set of knife-like fingers as they hover menacingly above her head. The guys in Mick’s band often joked about him being some kind of ghoul or vampire, and his love for the spooky and supernatural really didn’t help his case.

“Another slasher, Mickey?” you tease, shoving at his shoulders playfully. Just last week the two of you spent the night watching My Bloody Valentine, all the while jeering and laughing at every ridiculous mistake that the characters made. At this point, it may as well be a Friday night tradition.

Mick rolls his eyes, “Come on, Y/N. It’s not just a regular, old slasher. This guy is supposed to come after you to haunt your dreams and shit.”

“What? You sick of me haunting yours?”

“Never,” Mick scoffs, flinging your legs to the side so he can get up and feed the tape into the VHS player. “Not if it’s you.”

For the umpteenth time that evening, your heart leaps.

...

As it turns out, Mick was right, it wasn’t just a silly slasher movie– it was a fucking terrifying slasher movie. By the time that the television screen faded to black and the credits began to roll, you hardly noticed the way your body had wrapped around itself in terror. Gripping the blanket across your lap, you jump as the dark living room becomes illuminated in pale, yellow light. You peer behind a wall of couch cushions to see Mick lurking by the lightswitch with a smirk dancing on his lips.

“Jesus, Y/N, if I didn’t know any better, I’d say you were scared,” Mick grins, his expression infuriatingly smug.

You feel your face grow hot as your heart hammers noisily in your chest, a mixture of embarrassment and frustration bubbling from within.

“I wasn’t scared,” you insist, “I was just–just, uh, startled is all. Long day, remember?” Gesturing to your blanket enshrouded form, you hope that the dark circles under your eyes are enough to persuade Mick to say he’s ready for bed and leave you be.

“Speaking of long days, it’s getting pretty late. Why don’t you just crash here for the night?” Mick points to the digital clock on his mantle, the bright red numbers flashing 1:32.

You nibble on your lip wordlessly, trying your best to ignore the feeling of butterfly wings tickling your stomach and climbing into your throat. Mick has a point, it is getting late. However, in all your time as friends, Mick had never once invited you to stay over. Would this change things? Could it change things?

“Um, Earth to Y/N?” Mick steps over to your place on the couch a waves an impatient hand in front of your face, making you jolt upright. “What’s the matter? Freddy got your tongue?”

“You little shit, I swear to God I am not scared–!” your tangent is interrupted as a clap of thunder rumbles from somewhere outside the window, the panes rattling and shaking in protest.

A dramatic yelp escapes your lips before you have time to rationalize what’s happening, making Mick double over in laughter. With trembling hands, you pull the blanket up over your head in an attempt to shroud your humiliation from Mick’s taunting eyes.

“F-fine, you win!” you relent, voice muffled beneath the quilted fabric.

Mick pulls the blanket away from your face, his dark blue eyes glittering with amusement. “Guess we’re having a slumber party after all.”

“If you wanted a sleepover, you could’ve just asked instead of scaring the fuck out of me. We could have braided each other’s hair by now,” you grumble bitterly.

“Better luck next time, I guess,” Mick flicks off the lightswitch with a devious grin, leaving you enveloped in darkness, “Sleep tight, and don’t let the interdimensional sleep demons bite…”

“Oh fuck off,” you squeak, uneasiness creeping on you as Mick leaves you alone in the blackness of his living room. Living closer to the city’s epicentre, you can’t even remember a time it was this dark in your apartment, let alone right outside the window.

Bundling yourself into a tight cocoon, you try to let the rare patter of California raindrops soothe you into unconsciousness. Just as the fuzziness of sleep starts to curl around your weary mind, another clap of thunder rattles through the walls of Mick’s house, your eyes snapping open in fright. You attempt to regulate your frantic breaths, chanting sweet nothings of normalcy and security to no one in particular. But, no matter what you do, nothing seems to unprickle the hairs standing rigidly on the back of your neck.

Rolling over, you decide to face the room in the hopes that your tired eyes will eventually adjust to the darkness. The shadows seem to squirm and shift as your spine tingles with paranoia, making you curse yourself for ever agreeing to stay in the first place. You groan internally when you realize that, in the time you’ve spent anxious on the sofa, you probably could have made it home by now.

Goddammit, Mick.

Ignoring the oppressive movement of the shadows, your eyes wander toward the hallway. The position you have on the couch gives you a direct view of where the curve of the hall snakes into the door of Mick’s bedroom. More than anything, you wish he had stayed out in the living room with you rather than retreating to the confines of his bedroom. It would have been completely unfair to ask that of Mick considering it’s his house, but you can’t help it. You hadn’t been this afraid of the dark since you were a kid and, as far as you knew, Mick wasn’t scared of anything.

The longer you lay scrunched up on the couch, the more tempted you are to just barge into Mick’s room and see whether or not he’s still awake. Minutes feel like hours as you debate the odds of Mick being mad–or worse, weirded out–at the sight of his best friend shaking him awake in the middle of the night. If Mick were having the same problem you probably wouldn’t be upset, right? Then again, there was a better chance of hell freezing over than Mick actually being afraid of the dark.

Deciding you can’t handle being alone a second longer, you swiftly untangle yourself from the comforting embrace of your blanket cocoon and place your bare feet on the cool, wooden floor. Shivering slightly, you hug your arms around your shoulders protectively and pad toward Mick’s bedroom, a nervous lump knotting in the back of your throat.

You approach the white door apprehensively, wondering for a brief moment if testing your friendship like this is even worth it. With a hefty sigh, you abandon all caution and pull the door open, a soft breeze rushing forward and tickling your face from the sudden movement. Heart thudding unceremoniously in your chest, you find yourself faced with the sight of your best friend sleeping soundly in a tangle of black velvet bedsheets.

Lying flat on his back with arms crossed securely over his chest, Mick slept like the dead, looking just as peaceful and twice as forbidden to disturb. A soft smile ghosts your lips at the sight of Mick looking so unwound and at rest. He was always a high-strung individual, that much is true, and watching him sleep so soundly made all your anxieties from earlier feel unbelievably not worth the effort. The realization that Mick’s face alone is enough to settle your nerves makes your heart hammer out a strangled pulse of adoration, twisting your stomach into a knot.

Inching away slowly, you decide that it’s probably for the best if you just saunter back to the couch and squash your feelings. Mick deserves a good night’s rest, not a lovesick best friend who is becoming blindsided by her feelings. Cursing your heart for being so fixated on the trivial human need for intimacy, you take a step back and immediately bump right into Mick’s dresser.

“Fuck,” you hiss as the dresser’s wooden frame trembles noisily against the floor.

To your horror, the man in front of you begins to stir. Raising balled fists to his eyes, he wipes away the sleep and glances over to the source of the sound in a haze of weary confusion. Your heart plummets to the ground as his eyes find yours in the darkness.

“...Y/N?” he mumbles, as he rises stiffly from his pile of blankets like a mummy from a sarcophagus. “Am I dreaming?”

“I was just leaving,” you squeak, hoping beyond hope that Mick would be tired enough to think nothing of his best friend suddenly creeping into his room in the middle of the night. Turning on your heel, you attempt to reach for the door knob but are immediately halted by the sound of Mick’s voice.

“Wait–” Mick calls out, his voice faint, “stay.”

You suck in a breath, grateful that the cover of night conceals the cherry red flush of your cheeks. Taking a tentative step forward, you find your fingertips gingerly clinging to the cool metal of the doorknob in worry. Swallowing the lump in your throat, it feels as though you might be the one dreaming.

“Mickey, look, I can explain, I, uh–I was just…” you stumble over the words of your confession, eyes now well-adjusted enough to see Mick’s expression go soft, almost as if he were concealing a smile.

Mick chuckles at your embarrassment, his gravelly voice making your heart flutter involuntarily. “You were scared, weren’t you?’

“Yeah,” you sigh, not bothering to dig an even deeper hole, “I guess I was.”

Staring down at your bare feet, you allow a beat of silence to pass between the two of you. Mick says nothing, only stares, and for a moment you squirm at the thought that you may have overstayed your welcome. The thought alone is enough to make you cringe.

Mick clears his throat, startling you out of your compulsive rumination. Peering up like a scolded child, you watch him scoot toward the far end of the mattress and straighten out his wrinkled duvet with a lazy hand.

“Well don’t just stand there,” he grins, “get in.”

“Seriously?”

Mick rolls his eyes and pats the empty space for emphasis, “Yes, seriously. Freddy can’t get ya so long as you’re with me– scout’s honor.”

“As if you were a fucking boy scout,” you snort, unable to let your previous feelings of shame conceal the utter ridiculousness of the present situation. Here you are standing at the bedside of your best friend with a bleeding heart, and he’s already prepared to bandage you back up.

“But it’s the thought that counts, right? Now hurry your ass up, I want to get back to sleep.”

Your feet seem to propel you forward of their own accord and, before your neurotic brain can shift into overdrive, you’re already nestling into Mick’s bedsheets. You hum comfortably, the velvet still warm from where he had been sleeping. Every inch of the fabric smells of him, and it takes the last shred of your willpower to not just let your feelings leak straight out of your mouth and onto deaf ears.

“That’s easy for you to say, Mickey,” you tease weakly, “you’ve never been scared of anything.”

“I get scared sometimes,” Mick confesses, “I just wouldn’t want you to ever think differently of me because of it.”

You don’t need to see Mick’s face to know that he’s frowning.

Emboldened by his sudden admission of vulnerability, you turn on your side to face him. Mick’s eyes are fixed firmly on the ceiling, as if all the answers to life’s deepest, darkest questions could be etched somewhere in the popcorned pattern.

“W-what do you mean?” you meant to sound confident, but your voice comes out as barely more than a whisper.

To your disbelief, Mick turns over as well, his deep blue eyes shining through the shadowy bedroom like the frothy caps of a stormy sea. You can practically feel your heart reaching out to him, begging to pull you under and keep you there.

Mick’s hand finds yours somewhere beneath the velvet sheets and gives you a gentle squeeze, his warm palm enveloping your cold one in an instant.

“There’s something I want to say but I’m afraid…” he whispers, voice as delicate as spun sugar, “...I’m afraid I’ll lose you if I do, and I don’t wanna lose you.”

For a moment all you can do is blink, your mind reeling from the implications of what your best friend may or may not be admitting to you. You know that you need to say something quick, but your tongue turns to sand in your mouth.

Mick’s hand still entwined with yours, you take the opportunity to move in closer. Slowly you close the gap between the two of you, leaving nothing but the space reserved for the halo of mutual body heat forming around your place in the sheets.

“I think I know what you mean,” you bring Micks hand to your chest and let the frantic pulse of your heart do all the talking.

Without warning, Mick gives you a gentle kiss on the nose. The touch is so faint, you’re almost worried you may have imagined it.

“Y/N?”

“Yeah, Mickey?”

“I think I love you.”

Your free hand rests gingerly on your best friend’s cheek, and for the first time that night you find yourself unafraid of what comes next. His face is red hot to the touch, and you wonder if anyone else knew Mick could be so warm.

“You sure you’d want to do a crazy thing like that?”

Mick just chuckles and shakes his head, “Nothing feels crazy when I’m with you.”

“Then I guess I’m just gonna have to love you, too.”

#hello!#i'm kind of back for now #sorry to be so shit #the dirt #the dirt requests #motley crue imagine #motley crue oneshot #motley crue #mick mars #tommy lee #nikki sixx #vince neil #iwan rheon #80s #80s rock #the dirt netflix

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m-ziliak · 4 years

Note

Do you have certain materials you prefer? Like a certain type of paper, pens, etc.?

If you’re practicing, use the cheap crap! Use printer paper and ballpoint pens and RoseArt and Reeves! Always practice with the cheap stuff and save the good quality materials for when you know what you’re doing. For stuff I prefer for myself now... Paper. When working in sketchbooks I really like Canson Mix Media. It has some tooth to it and I really like that. I also work a lot with markers and it holds up to them really well. I have Strathmore Mixed Media books, too, but they’re really smooth and I’m not very fond of that. Seems like it would be better for blending, but I always feel like the pencil or ink is going to smear or feather. For comic book paper I really like Canson as well. Doesn’t bleed, doesn’t feather, I just wish it had some more layout markers. (Though I can just do that with a ruler.) Pencils! Been using Prismacolor Col-Erase for a long while now, usually in Light Blue and Carmine Red. Please note that Carmine Red doesn’t erase well and is kinda a pain in the butt. I used to draw in Non-Photo Blue, but it was too light when I was inking and I’d have a hard time seeing my sketch and scanners would still pick it up. If I’m doing warm-ups, thumbnails, or just sketches I’ll use anything. Normal pencils, ball-point pens. Anything. Pens. For inking I usually go for Sakura Micron. Comes in a bunch of sizes and I go through them like candy. They can handle a decent amount of work, have pretty durable nibs as long as you’re not stabbing the paper. I also like their brush pens for filling in. I used to use Copics as well for inking, but they were too expensive to upkeep and I didn’t really like how they felt. (I had the metal ones that you could refill. Heavy pens.) I also used to use Stabilo and I kinda hated them. Did my first comic with them and it looks like shit. Feels like holding a pencil, though. I might try them again now that I know how to use pens better, but for now I’ll stick with Sakura. Oh! I also use Sakura Gelly Roll for white ink, but I’m not super fond of it. I just need it for fixing mistakes. I’ll look for a better white ink pen later. Markers! If you wanna get into markers, use Ohuhu. They’re cheap, they dry out in a year, and they come in a ton of colors. Good to practice with. Right now I use Copic Sketch and I like them a lot. I have some that have dried out too soon, so I might try to revive them again, but overall I like them. They blend nicely, they don’t usually feather or bleed too bad, they come in a verity of colors. I like them. I’ve also used Faber-Castell, they’re okay. I’m not really fond of them. They never seem to dry out which is nice. Don’t blend very well, but that may just be me. Sharpie I hate. Never got the hang of them. Hate the smell, hate the colors, I don’t like Sharpie. I know other people that can make them work, though, so that’s definitely me. Other art stuff! I use Mod Podge to glue things, usually paper to whatever I messed up on so I can re-draw it. Bad idea. don’t use Mod Podge to glue things. Coloring over it will also make it look weird. Get a quark-back metal ruler. Keeps the ruler from slipping around. I have a cheap glove-thing I got for free when I bought a tablet to cover my hand and keep me from smearing stuff. I used to have a SmudgeGuard brand one, but the elastic gave out on it and for some reason the woman who ran the store didn’t believe I had small hands so she sent me the wrong size with a letter that an adult can’t have hands that size. I may try to sew my own one day. But it does keep the pencil and whatnot from getting messy. Computer stuff?? For taking photos and posting them to Insta, I use SnapSeed for fixing contrast and white-balance issues and LINE Camera for editing out stuff like eraser dust or little things like that. For digital art I use Photoshop CS6 and a really out-of-date version of GIMP. Like, so old. Super old. I don’t actually have a scanner and haven’t for a long time now, so I can’t really do any digital art. I’d like to get back into it, but I’m also VERY rusty. I never draw digitally and I should really try to get better at that. I want to try out Clip Studio Paint, but that’s a bit expensive for something I don’t know if I’ll like so maybe I’ll use their free trial. Drawing tablets I’ve used have been a Wacom Graphire3. From 2004. It was a good little tablet until it died. I have a little Wacom Intuos. It has a giant scratch on the surface, but it works fine. If I do any digital art, I usually do it with that. I also have a Huion Kamvas GT156HD. I hate it. It worked properly once and never again. The wires are a pain in the ass, setting it up is even MORE of a pain in the ass. It’s constantly running in the background for no reason, the pens can’t hold a charge, and it freaks out if you have drivers for other tablets installed. No matter how many times I uninstall and reinstall drivers it never works right. It’s a pain to change pen settings, I just hate it. Haven’t used it for two years or so, it was a huge waste of money.

#Anonymous

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robotnikfucker · 4 years

Text

10 Questions Tag Game

I’ve been tagged by @jimbotniks

Rules: Answer the 10 questions, ask a different 10 questions, and tag 10 people

(Small warning, I have ADHD and just took my meds so this is a little ramble-y and disjointed. I apologize, there is no way to fix this, my brain is just like that oops. For courtesy, I’ve put all the long stuff under the cut so you only have to read my monologue if you want to.)

1. What is your favorite genre of music? Why?

Probably indie-rock and indie punk. I like indie-rock largely because my favorite shows in my formative years were Chuck, Bones and a couple other “golden era” crime dramas that all featured a lot of indie-rock music in the background. Indie punk appeals to me because it’s just a good catharsis while also being pretty damn dance-able. Kiwi Jr and AJJ are both really good bands if you need to just let it all out while jamming to some bops.

2. What’s an art project you’ve made that you’re proud of?

I draw angels frequently, often depicting them as humanoid but still terrifying. This was an art theme that I’ve had going since before I was religious and I find that “angelic” imagery can sometimes leak into my other art so a lot of my favorite art is drawings of wings, gore, monsters and all kinds of Gothic themes. Right now, I have a watercolor of Virginia Madsen that I’m just in love with. I was always enchanted by her hypnotized stare in Candyman and I did my best to capture that. I even went out with my girlfriend to buy a gold gel pen so her tears would glitter. From theme to technical prowess, it’s my favorite painting right now and possibly my magnum opus. My previous best was a gore heavy, similarly angel themed, digital painting of Roger Wilco from the Space Quest games (weird special interests, I know.) I could go on about drawings I love for hours, so I’ll cut myself off here with the small post script that this is just my visual art and I also have poetry and prose that I feel similarly about.

3. Do you have a favorite album/podcast to put on in the background while you work or study?

It all really depends on my mood. My girlfriend shared a really relaxing Sovietwave playlist with me recently that I’ve been enjoying. I also listen to a lot of AJJ and Saint Motel, I don’t really think I could really pin down a specific album for either of them. The Candyman soundtrack works really well for study especially for my Gothic and Mystery class. I have a playlist titled Fuck Funk that’s specifically for writing fanfiction since I could never find a good playlist for writing smut when I needed it but I also use that playlist to work out since it’s mostly just a healthy mix of songs that I can jam to. I’ve never liked podcasts for study/work since I can’t really write and listen at the same time but I did make a podcast once for a professor that was a radio-play style parody of Scooby-Doo. I did all of the editing and I still listen back over it and pat myself on the back for turning 2 hours of raw improv into something that got us like a 98. A lot of my own music taste peaks through.

4. If you could become the protagonist/antagonist of any media franchise, which one would you pick and why?

Realistically, Animal Crossing because that’s the safest bet least likely to lead to my death. If we’re gonna get wild... probably BJ Blazkowicz from Wolfenstein so I could kick some N*zi ass or Conan Edogawa/Jimmy Kudo from Case Closed/Detective Conan so I could enjoy that sweet mid 90′s aesthetic.

5. Can you play any instruments? which ones?

I can, actually, I’ve played cello since I was 8 (I’m 18 now) although I’m a little rusty. I played piano and drums for a while and while I’m pretty useless when it comes to piano these days, I still maintain a pretty firm grip on my sense of time and rhythm thanks to the years I spent playing percussion. I played bari sax in middle and high school. I marched it for 3 years until I had a back injury but I was in jazz band all 4 years of high school so I was still playing. I was also in choir for a very long time and even spent my junior and senior years in an acapella Madrigal choir (I still have my costumes from both years) and even though it hasn’t been a whole year since I graduated, I still miss singing. I certainly don’t miss high school but I do miss that choir.

6. Do you collect anything? If so, what?

Not sure if this counts but I’ve been an achievement hunter/completionist since I played Ocarina of Time so I guess I “collect” video game achievements. I also collect lost things when I find them. I have an abandoned library card, two different gym membership cards, and a whole bunch of business cards. I have a small collection of lighters but that’s less about the joy of collecting and more about how often I burn incense. Aside from the usual stuffed animal collection that most people have from childhood, I don’t collect anything else.

7. How many songs are there in your music library?

This is kinda difficult for me to answer. I use Spotify and I don’t always download my music since I have unlimited data, but it currently says that I have 1070 “liked” songs which is likely a little conservative since I had to switch accounts last year and lost some of my music in the process. (This just got me thinkin, back in the iTunes era when songs were 99cents a pop I would have had to pay more than a thousand dollars for that kind of collection.)

8. If you could live anywhere in the world, and at any time in history, where and when would you choose?

So, by any time in history do you mean only the past or the future too? If future is an acceptable answer, I’m gonna say Star Trek. Like if Star Trek ever becomes vaguely reality, I’m going there. Even if the details are wrong, a career as a science officer on a space ship in a universe that isn’t constantly at war and is instead working towards peace and the pursuit of higher knowledge is perfect. If we’re only talking about the past, with no allowances for possible futures, then I think I’d want to live in the 80s in a metropolitan city like New York, Chicago, or Tokyo. Perhaps its misplaced nostalgia, but working as a secretary sounds nice. In the 80s you could still outright buy an apartment instead of renting it and it was actually semi-affordable (at least for the privileged) which as someone facing adulthood in the current economy, sounds like a dream come true. I guess I just want the simplicity and security of economy back then. Lookin for that yuppie life!

9. Have you ever performed live in front of an audience?

I have, several times. Although I’ve never been a headliner or anything I’ve played and sang at school concerts (even had a few solos) and my jazz band once performed for a dance hall full of people. I’ve never been paid unless you count getting a free CD but I’ve performed in front of quite a few live audiences.

Anyway, Jimbotnik didn’t write a tenth question so I guess I get an out. I’m sorry for my rambling answers, that’s just life. I’m gonna tag @jasminerobotnik @zoekrystall @rohotnik since y’all are my Sonic blog mutuals (like my header implies, I keep my main and this side blog separate for privacy’s sake) I’m also tagging @actsoflove @manicrobotnik @dusicielkusiciel @hamil-trash24 @lee-bunny @legally-immortal and @wutevrz

If you’re confused as to why I tagged you, I don’t have many mutuals so I picked followers who I’d seen some interaction from. You don’t have to play if you don’t want to and I’ll delete your tag if you’d prefer. As usual with these games, it’s also open to anyone who wants to get one of these started among their group so if you’re reading this post and wish you’d been tagged, that’s you.

My questions:

Do you wear glasses/contacts? If you wear glasses do you like how they look on you?

Do you have a playlist of music that’s just for when you’re sad? What are your favorite songs from it?

Is there a skill you consider yourself particularly good at?

If you’re the kind of person who uses a reusable water bottle, do you decorate it? If not, what is your favorite drink day to day?

Do you drink diet soda or can you not tolerate the taste?

Do you write fanfiction? What fandoms and genres? Do you share your fic with people you know in real life?

What’s your favorite scent? Do you often buy scented products like incense or candles?

Do you like scary movies? If so, what’s your favorite? If you don’t, what is your favorite genre of films?

What’s your go to movie snack when you’re watching in a theater? What about when you’re watching a movie at home?

What’s your favorite “medium” for art (sculpture, dance, music, painting, drawing, poetry etc.) and which one do you feel most adept at?

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ask-de-writer · 4 years

Text

LOST TIME (part 1 of 3) A fantasy of Flocking Bay.

Return to the Master Story Index

Return to Flocking Bay

LOST TIME

De Writer (Glen Ten-Eyck)

5556 words

written 2003

Reproduction in any form, physical, electronic or digital is prohibited without the express written consent of the author or proper copyright holder.

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Users of Tumblr.com are specifically granted the following rights. They may reblog the story. They may use the characters or original characters in my settings for fan fiction, fan art works, cosplay, or fan musical compositions. I will allow those who do commission art works to charge for their images.

All sorts of Fan Activity, fiction, art, cosplay, music or anything else is ACTIVELY encouraged!

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It stands out even in the dark ... It shouldn’t. It’s just a house. A damned old house. Not even that old really, not for New England. It’s a two story salt-box style with an observation deck under a cupola at the peak. It is probably just the setting. Rusty old iron fence, gnarled elderly trees, unkempt lawn not quite out of control, windows that the neighborhood kids haven’t broken. It should be a witch’s house but it isn’t. It is mine. I just closed on it yesterday.

The kids are going to have a field day this time. I don’t like the daylight... been on night shift as far back as I can remember. That’s a longish way back. But I’m not a witch, nor vampire. Nothing exotic that I know of. I’m just one of those people (you probably know one or two) who don’t show their age. If you envy me, think again. YOU try to explain to a traffic cop why your ID has you pegged for seventy+ and you don’t look over twenty. I carry a copy of my fingerprint record from the military, because they can check that.

Funny part of it is, I really don’t have the slightest idea how old I am. Traumatic amnesia the doctors called it, during the war. The head wound was minor, they said.

That is a matter of opinion. It robbed me of my past, my name, my identity, my loves and hates but left my skills intact. I was an empty shell. I am still trying to find my past.

The name that I use comes from more or less modern myth. Vandervekken. The Flying Dutchman. Wandering Dutchman would be more accurate. He sails the seas off the Cape of Good Hope until Judgment Day. He can’t find his home either. I bought the house because it is the first place that I have seen in over fifty years where I want to stay. You explain it.

The rusty gate opened silently, thanks to the bit of oil that I put on the hinges. Going up the uneven walk, between the looming trees is an experience. The door lock is old-fashioned but still works smoothly. Covered furniture could have made ghosts to haunt the place, if I were superstitious or given to being easily frightened.

As I said, I like the night. I even enjoy things with a bit of a spooky atmosphere. I also like antiques and handcrafted things which is why, if I ever find out who did it, I will cheerfully throttle whatever philistine covered the finely inlaid hardwood parquetry floors with battleship gray paint.

Stripping and refinishing those floors was on my priority job list. Actually, I shouldn’t beef too much. Pointing out the problem got me a price reduction of nearly $2000 on an already underpriced house with all of its furniture as part of the deal. Estates can be wonderful when you are on a tight budget. Too bad that someone else had to die to create my good fortune.

As I pulled the dust covers from the furniture, I saw that my good fortune was been complete. It was all sturdy, hand-carved hardwood with Chinese silk brocade upholstery. The furniture alone was worth what I had paid for the house and contents. The tops of even the smallest hall tables were inlaid with rich veneers, ivory and mother of pearl. You couldn’t buy furniture like this any more. Besides the cost, the ivory in the inlays is no longer legal to obtain. I could get as much from the sale of just one or two pieces as I could from a year of writing if I could bring myself to part with any of this treasure. It just feels like the house would not be complete without it.

Whoever it was that had died and left this for me to have has whatever blessings it is in my power to bestow. The only wonder is that this place stayed on the market long enough for me to find it. Usually, deals like this get snapped up by the real-estate brokers before people like me ever see them.

When I got to the kitchen, I received another little jolt. I knew that it was fairly up to date, but some thoughtful soul had stocked the fridge and set out a bit of a snack for me. Just cookies and a glass for the milk, which was staying cold in the cooler. Thoughtful. I wondered who did it.

While munching on the cookies, I opened a few windows to air the place out a bit. Going out to my car, I saw that the flags of the walk needed leveling because of the weeds that grew up between them. I drove around to the alley behind the place, opened the garage and parked Lilitu, my classic pre-war Packard touring car. She looked right at home in there. Few, even of modern garages were big enough for her. I ferried my few personal goods up to the house. On my last trip, I saw a couple of wide-eyed kids looking over the back fence.

“Told ya, told ya so!” one of them chanted. “There’s somebody sneakin’ inta the ol’ Vekin place!”

“I wouldn’t call it sneaking, to move into your own place,” I answered as civilly as I could manage. “I just bought it. Why do you call it the Vekin place?”

“If ya ain’t sneakin’, why ya goin’ in the back way? An’ after dark, too?” she shot back. I could now see that they were a girl and a boy. She was obviously in charge.

“I like nights. I’m a writer, so I can keep any hours I like. Why is it the Vekin place?” I asked again.

“Dun’no - Crazy guy named Vekin used to live there,” she contradicted herself.

“Lot of folks tried to buy the place since then,” the boy piped in.

“But nobody ever stays,” the girl finished for him firmly.

“So, this is the neighborhood’s haunted house?” I inquired jovially.

“No,” was as far as the boy got.

“Its down the street, on t’other side,” she cut in.

“I looked at that one,” I said thoughtfully. “The old Victorian. Somebody’s broken out all the windows. Not like here. If the Vekin house is so bad, why hasn’t some kid chucked rocks at it?”

“‘Cause we’re not THAT crazy!” exclaimed The boy, getting out a whole thought. The girl gave him a push, and they ran off into the night.

I got up about noon, after the most restful night’s sleep that I’d had since the War. After my breakfast and a quiet tour of the place from attic to basement, I went out. My goal was the local newspaper. THE FLOCKING BAY VOICE was sprawled across the plate glass window in Old English style letters of gold leaf and black. Smaller letters proclaimed Est. 1841. I pushed open the door. My nose was assaulted by the multiple odors of printer’s ink, paper and grease. The VOICE occupied one large room. An elderly web press crouched at the back of the space, behind several rolls of newsprint. Cubicles made offices in the middle of the room. An old oak counter that had once seen duty as a bar had several signs suspended over it on thin chains. They read ‘submissions’, ‘advertisements’, ‘subscriptions’, ‘billing’.

There was a bell on the counter. Some wag had put a sign on it, “Please ring bell, it won’t help but it will give you something to do.” I gave myself something to do, energetically, a few times.

A trim little blond lady answered the bell’s summons. She wore a green eyeshade and a pin on her sweater announced, ‘Lois Martin - cook, bottle washer & EDITOR in CHIEF.’ “What can I do for you, today?” she asked.

“I came to see what I can find out about the Vekin place,” I answered, trying not to stare at her.

“Just a moment, I’ll get the file out of the morgue. I was going to get it anyway. Somebody went and bought the place again.”

“Wait a minute,” I protested. “Someone buys a house and that makes news in Flocking Bay? This town must be even quieter than it looks.”

“Oh,” she retorted, “it can get downright interesting around here when the old Vekin place sells. You’ll see.” She disappeared among the cubicles and I heard her feet clattering down a flight of stairs. I heard a file drawer creak and slide, then slam shut. It wasn’t long before she reappeared, a rather fat file clutched in her hand.

“If you’d like, we can have lunch over at Mike’s Soda Shop,” she proposed. “He makes decent submarine sandwiches and real ice-cream sodas.”

“Well ... ” I pretended to hesitate, “I haven’t been invited out by a beautiful blond in a long time, so, yes.”

“I hope that I haven’t just made a fool of myself,” she remarked, laying aside the eyeshade. “You are Mr. Vandervekken aren’t you? The man who just bought the place?”

“Too true,” I said.

“Then I’ll make it an interview and deduct it from my taxes,” she smiled.

“You make enough to pay taxes?” I asked, looking back as we crossed the street.

“I have hidden assets. The paper is a tax shelter.” She opened the door of Mike’s and ushered me in.

As I was seating her, I just couldn’t help blurting out, “Your assets seem to be pretty obvious.”

She grinned, “Go ahead and stare. I don’t mind. If I did, I wouldn’t wear a snug sweater and put my pin just here.” She pointed, then added, “Looking at it will keep you off your guard while I ask my questions.”

“OK, Ms. Martin, but let me look at the file first. You can order for me. You know the food here,” I said, reaching for the file.

“Lois,” she replied, “call me Lois, everyone else does.” Then she hollered to the man behind the counter, “Oh, Mike! Two butterscotch sodas and a big turkey sub! Divide it in half!”

“How did you know that I liked butterscotch?” I asked. “It’s not that common a preference these days.”

“I just had a hunch, that’s all. You looked like another butterscotch type person.”

I was leafing through the file on the rather beat-up table while we waited. I couldn’t resist snorting with amusement at the name of the house’s builder. Capt. Von Der Vekin. The house had been built in 1894 by the Capt. and his elusive son, Charles. Nobody had ever seen Charles until he came into town, on April 1st, 1900, to report his father’s demise and burial on the property. He ordered a headstone hewn of the local limestone. Charles had returned from WW I with honors and lived quietly, claiming to be a writer, though nobody ever saw any of his work in print. When asked, all that he would say was ‘Pseudonyms are great for privacy’. He was not so lucky when he volunteered to assist the French resistance in 1939. He never came home.

Next==>

Return to the Master Story Index

Return to Flocking Bay

#LOST TIME #Part 1 of 3 #Flocking Bay #Written by De Writer

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mirsartsu · 4 years

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A close friend gave me her old Copics she never used and I wanted to test them out. I used little Fae as a test subject, mind you...I'm better with digital art and still very rusty when it comes to traditional art.

#xmireillechanx #mirsartsu #traditional art #copics #bunny girl #usagi #kemonomimi #chibi

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veryfashionabledesigns · 5 years

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Analyzing the Snicket Aesthetic, Part 1/5: Time Period, Technology, and Medicine

.-There are quite a few fan theories placing the main events of ASOUE in the 80’s or 90’s, which is plausible, if not quite probable, in terms of the technology present in the series and the timing of the real-life publication of the books. On the other hand, I’m a shameless hipster and I live for that retro aesthetic, so I like the ambiguity.

-The post-post-apocalyptic theory is a fun one, but it can be a little limiting—not to mention difficult—to apply too many practical implications to this universe. Realism is all well and good, but it can easily be discarded for the sake of a good yarn or a pointed bit of commentary.

Figure 1: The Illustrations of ASOUE are mostly influenced by the woodblock prints that frequently appeared in Victorian fiction--black and white, hatched shading, realistic perspective—while those of ATWQ vaguely resemble Modernist and/or Cubist art—subtle color, solid shadows, and slightly warped perspective.

(Continued under the cut)

-Anachronisms everywhere, of course. One of the books mentions a blacksmith and a computer repair shop in the same sentence. Events and media from before, during, or (infrequently) after the date range are regularly referenced.

-Personally, I mix and match from a date range of about 1890-1980, for reasons we’ll get into over the course of this analysis, although this is really quite a large range, and even then it’s rather approximate, and can change depending on which version of the story one is referencing, and even from book to book or character to character.

-Time does not pass normally like in the real world. The atmosphere of ASOUE feels a bit older (gothic, vaguely turn of the century) than that of ATWQ (noir, 1930’s-40’s), but the latter is set before the former (see fig. 1). History has been run through a blender set to puree.

TECHNOLOGY

-It’s sort of lowkey steampunk/dieselpunk. Relatively little sci fi tech is floating loose in the world, but given the materials and time, Violet would almost certainly come up with some fun retro-futuristic inventions.

-Violet’s inventions involve mechanical and electrical technology, but seemingly nothing digital. She’s largely indifferent (and in the books, possibly even disdainful) in response to the “advanced computer” at Prufrock Prep, which always struck me as a bit odd. Maybe she distrusts Nero’s vague assertions that it will deter Count Olaf, maybe she prefers a more hands-on approach to inventing, or maybe she has the soul of cranky old lady.

Figure 2: Prufrock’s advanced computer in the Netflix series features cameras, a CRT monitor, and something resembling an oscilloscope.

-Computers exist in this universe, but they don’t seem to do much, and there aren’t very many of them. Smart phones, laptops, and similar devices of the 21st century are almost certainly not around.

-In the books, Prufrock’s computer can display a recognizable image of Count Olaf and is compared to a toad in appearance, meaning it was likely modeled after PCs from the 80s and 90s.

-In the series, it’s even more anachronistic. The monitor looks more or less like what was described in the books, but it also comes fitted with a built in camera, much like a modern webcam, and can recognize faces about as well as most characters (although this really isn’t saying much), implying some kind of primitive deep learning capacity.

Figure 3: A few computers that could fit in the Snicketverse. (The Apple 1, hilariously, is the real thing.)

-If the internet exists, it’s pretty useless. The first season of the Netflix series has a few references to the internet, none of which are relevant to the plot. The internet makes everything easier, and the Snicketverse is all about inconvenience and suffering.

-Photographs appear in both black and white and color, although the color is quite grainy. The shift to color photography occurred gradually throughout the 20th century.

-Hector’s self-sustaining hot air mobile home is really quite impractical, if not impossible. A proper hot air balloon would require quite a bit of fuel to keep the air inside the balloons sufficiently hot. Historically, airships of comparative size would have filled their balloons with hydrogen and/or helium, which, barring leakage or other damage, could actually remain buoyant more or less indefinitely. Hydrogen, by the way, is very flammable.

-The submarines in The Grim Grotto are steampunk as heck—that is, realistically impractical but really friggin’ cool—likely inspired by early science fiction such as Twenty Thousand Leagues Under the Sea. In real life, submarines rarely have portholes; in warfare or high water pressure, they could potentially be a weak point, and they’re fairly pricy for something that isn’t strictly necessary. There are a few exceptions, though, such as in subs designed for tourism or marine biology.

Figure 4: The Quequeg has a number of features solely for the comfort of its crew, such as this lovely library with paintings and antique-looking lamps. The use of brass and copper tones, as well as the warm lighting reminiscent of gas, oil, or early incandescent lights, also add to the steampunk vibes.

-Mobile phones do not appear in the books. As with the internet, they’re just too convenient. Should they be necessary to your story, however, there are a few ways to work them in. The movie featured telephones built into cars, which is actually pretty cool. In real life, portable phones have existed since at least the 1960s, although they were too large and expensive to be popular with the public until recently.

Figure 5: The Radio Common Carrier, a sort of mobile phone introduced in the 1960s.

MEDICINE

-If Heimlich Hospital is typical of the Snicketverse, then the medical technology of the time is… not good.

-For all the bureaucracy and paperwork depicted, there seems to be very little control over what sorts of operations are actually performed. Count Olaf can waltz in and say he needs the operating theater for a “cranioectomy,” and nobody seems to question it. It’s entirely possible that the amount of paperwork required is so massive that nobody can really keep track of it all.

-Patients at Heimlich Hospital often ask volunteers for simple things like a glass of water—implying that the hospital is severely understaffed.

-It is unknown what happens if a Volunteer is seriously injured in the line of duty. V.F.D. may have its own medics/infirmaries. Alternately, they may try to recruit medical professionals who will treat patients without revealing any secrets. It is also possible that volunteers are expected to lie to their doctors, or that the healthcare system is such a mess that nobody really asks questions when someone turns up with a suspicious injury.

-There is some good news: near the beginning of The Hostile Hospital, Klaus mentions antibiotics and shots (likely referring to vaccines). From this we can assume that many of history’s nastiest plagues (i.e. tuberculosis, cholera, scarlet fever, etc.) are more or less under control. (Although I personally headcannon that Mr. Poe’s cough is an early symptom of tuberculosis, as this would be a fun little shout-out to Edgar Allen Poe.)

-The rusty knives used in Violet’s “surgery” imply that doctors could get away with some pretty lousy sanitation. In the Netflix series, the entire hospital is filthy.

Figure 6: The operating theater in The Hostile Hospital is similar in structure, if not style, to the one at the Old Operating Theatre museum, built c.1822.

-Public operating theaters like the one seen in the Hostile Hospital were gradually replaced by sterile operating rooms as doctors developed proper understanding of germ theory between c. 1860-1900. (See fig. 6). Notably, the set design for the operating theater in the series uses a 19th century layout with mid-20th century materials and lighting.

-Treatment for mental health conditions is given little attention, which is troubling; sooner or later those poor kids are going to need some therapy. If memory serves, one of the patients at Heimlich is described as looking sad but otherwise healthy, suggesting depression.

-Given how dystopian the Snicketverse is, PTSD and anxiety are probably quite common—especially among V.F.D. members, who often wind up in very dangerous situations at very early ages. In fact, one could make a solid argument that childhood trauma might be behind the neuroses of characters such as Aunt Joesephine or Hector—both of whom, despite having severely debilitating anxiety disorders, never seem to receive any treatment.

FANTASY ELEMENTS

-There are very few of these, but it’s far from realism. Some rough rules of thumb would be to avoid things typically considered supernatural (i.e. dragons, ghosts, vampires), but things that are not quite possible (i.e. babies can bite through concrete, reptiles can be trained to imitate human speech on command), or possible but very improbable (i.e. a harmless snake being officially named “the Incredibly Deadly Viper” solely for pranking purposes, a phony surgeon convincing a crowd that decapitation is a risky but necessary medical procedure) are all well and good.

-It should be noted, however, that at least a few characters in-universe believe in the supernatural. In the Ersatz Elevator, the Baudelaires are briefly mistaken for ghosts, and in The End, Ishmael claims to predict the weather using magic.

#analyzing the snicket aesthetic #this started as a remake of a post from my main blog #but then i wound up with 20 pages #oops #asoue #lemony snicket #snicket aesthetic #vfd #i also threw fantasy element in with this section #because i didn't know where else to put them

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