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#Yes yes here we are with more ff but like the template was just perfect for the girls!
blissfulalchemist · 1 year
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Stasia wir Galvus Enache
“Foul child, bastard and beast/O lost lamb, first to the feast/Come claim if you're able a spot at this table/Mild and meek, down on your knees/For hide and seek./It's time that we feed/Your heart is racing, blood is running cold/Your fractured will is whispering (fly away)/Far Away” -Scream by Masayoshi Soken
template by @unholymilf (x)
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the-eve-codes · 3 years
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see ya later, alligator.
i’ve spent ages thinking how to write this without sounding like a whiny miserable brat looking for attention or sympathy or even a “but omg you’re so talented” (lol idc if that’s narcissistic hear me out here) but hey, this is my blog, if i want to make it my personal diary of shit i can’t talk to my rl friends about who don’t know about jcink i will. but im not that mean to make everyone read it if you don’t want to, so the rest is below the cut
i keep telling myself to come back off my so called hiatus, and i’ve made a few codes that i’ve posted somewhere even, and i lurk around on the resource sites but i just can’t bring myself to properly come back. i can’t even make myself go on discord (so sorry to anyone i sorta just....ghosted...). i don’t even remember the last time i enjoyed writing rp related content ffs. i can get semi hype but as soon as it gets to actually mucking in my enthusiasm just disappears. my creative streak feels as though its waned; the idea of writing new characters feels like a stretch my brain can’t make anymore, and replaying my existing characters feels boring at this stage.
as for my coding, i just....feel like i’m plugging away for no reason. there’s no point of the codes i make outside of a very limited niche, and even within jcink most sites have in house codes so they’re not even looking externally so much these days. i start making a template and 90% of the time just close the tab because i think well what’s the point of doing this?
it’s like, why am i doing this when i don’t actually think i want to be? why am i not learning how to make my coding more applicable to the real world, and im instead coding for a community i’d rather not even tell my rl friends about? why do i want to post codes for a community where highkey i actually hate most “jcink aesthetics”? (im going to say it lol. rl sites look gaudy as shit and are semi unusable most of the time, supernatural/hp site gothic type sites usually look like depression if it were html/css). hey don’t worry though if i personally offended your entire portfolio though -- i looked through all of my own work today and realised i actually hate 80%+ of it over the years.
letting go of this hobby feels incredibly hard though; i think if i leave, will it even be here if i come back in say one year, two years, three years? if i ever want to return, will i just be disappointed by what i return to? rp followed me through my formative adult years, from finishing school, to university, to a bout of glandular fever that messed up my immune system for nearly 2 years, to moving across the country multiple times, to a horrifying and protracted near long breakdown which im still surprised to this day i came out of alive.
i don’t have that turbulence in life though anymore, despite the horrors of the world we live in right now -- 2020 was for some bizarre reasons one of my better ones. i have a job i enjoy and a partner whom i adore, im away from the people and things that fuel much of my misery and in turn my toxic side, i’m opening a fucking small business on the side soon and going back to school in the fall. i think i used jcink as a community for so long when i didn’t really have one rl for myself, that now i’ve got people in my life that i care about and who care about me, i don’t need the escapism that roleplaying and coding allowed me. 
my last major depression session was last summer (it was 2020 after all, it wasn’t perfect) and i found myself going through years of stuff that i’d collected, going peak marie kondo and asking myself do i really need this, does this pen or tenth notepad or pair of shoes i hadn’t worn for 2 years really spark any joy? now i ask myself, does this spark joy? even in times where i was deeply deeply unhappy on here for whatever reason i could still at least say yeah, it does spark joy to me. but now it doesn’t, and in 2021 we shouldn’t be hanging on to things that feel like a chore, an obligation, that don’t make us happy anymore. 
i’m not saying “lol im quitting forever” because in 6 months i might change my mind, but as we get into the spring and summer i want to feel the sun on my face without the niggling thought that you haven’t made a code in a while, or you need to get those posts done. and yes, i know i could have just disappeared silently but i just wanted to get my own thoughts out somewhere, and having it tucked away in a google doc forever more felt...more depressing somehow.
anyway, while this may not be goodbye forever, it’s certainly goodbye for now jcink. stay safe and carry on making this community the one of a kind place it is in the world, even if it’s not for me just now.
eve <3
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a-writing-bear · 6 years
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[PruCan] Chapter 3: Soft-Spoken Calling, They Want Their Shyness Back
Ao3 Link:
http://archiveofourown.org/works/11159997/chapters/24905436
This Has been cross-posted onto FF & Ao3 under Aliases: BearBooper
You can read this Fic on tumblr under ‘Keep Reading’
Previous Chapter  Next Chapter
Fandom: Hetalia Axis Powers
Main Pairing: Gilbert Beilschmidt & Matthew Williams (Prussia & Canada)
AU:  College AU - Art Student Matthew and Media/Film Student Gilbert
Age Rating/Mature:  Teen And Up Audiences (12+ due to mentions of mature themes as well as swearing)
Trigger Warnings: None in this chapter (Future addiction to mention themes such as addiction, rape etc.)
“…..Hey! I should hire you to be my animator!”
Gilbert had gushed out the words as If the suggestion held no consequences. It wasn’t easy to agree to accept a role with little to none reward on top of the already exorbitant piles of coursework which tormented any student…that and the pure fact animation took lots of time- time that some would say they did not own or could not conceivably plan out to section off their talents. Art was supposed to be fun, rewarding, fulfilling. It was always an escape for Matthew and to even consider using any free time (something he did not really have nowadays) on projects that weren’t collectively his own sounded like a plunge into self-afflicted failure.
The last time he dabbled in a project that took over his free time, it was a family chore; almost everything involving Alfred felt like a chore. He had been strapped into the position of creating a concept image for another one of that horrible engineering thingy-ma-bobs Alfred designed. No pay and definitely no reward unless you regard crushing hugs and endless “I knew you could do it bro!” as a deserved gift. It was gruelling. It was work, not exactly ‘art’…
Still…This storyboard contained copious amounts of promise, something I haven’t seen in a while. Sure, Results may not prove worthy and it could be an utter failure, heck his ‘director’ might be a hellish nightmare to deal with (‘He reminds me of Alfred…not necessarily a good sign…’) in spite of all of this Matthew’s slight weakness came into play:
Working with Gilbert was a risk.
Danger. Potentially hazardous to his schedule and academic prospects. That sounded hot fun. To the common public, Matthew was unrecognisable. They, understandably, only saw a fellow who resembled a prodigy- the undesirable sibling that was mentioned in a footnote. A small detail in the background of a portrait of someone much more important. If he was noticed and thoroughly acknowledged, the most people understood was that he was soft-spoken, he was very good at art and was respectful of others.
That’s true but horrifically, Matthew was, realistically, extremely bored. Bored and so unmotivated for anything but art. The craving for something more than just paint on a basic canvas was evident, and his creative mind had been screeching for something more tantalisingly sustaining. Call it what you may, sadistic to his sleep and/or work process or a terrible decision to his report card, Matthew loved risky things. Like hockey.
Maybe that’s why he liked art? His parents responded negatively to his progression into art as it seemed dangerous; a traditional occupation like becoming doctor was bound to be a safe job prospect rather than a ‘starving’ artist. It held so much value. And once again…
Gilbert was a Risk.
That was a factor that changed his hesitant decision to not take the job, taking up the offer seemed like the only real choice. Being slightly ‘unsafe’ sounded…unchained. Of course he would have rules and deadlines but still, it was a creative process that he could let take over his uninterested mind. He was going to do it.
“Okay. Yeah that-That sounds good-“
“Wait?! Really Holy shit danke!”
“I didn’t finish” Matthew's voice had taken a more serious tone as he announced his guidelines, “If I agree, I want something in return and I want a freer rein on your story. I want to be able to change some scene ideas, we work as equals on this or else I don’t do it.”
The media student blinked in reply blankly before nodded his head in understanding,
“…so Mattie, What do you want in return?”
Contemplating on what he wanted, the blonde man debated over what could be a gain from Gilbert. At first, he pondered over getting the media student to buy his coffee every morning so he wouldn’t have to leave his bed early but the responsible voice in his head told him that would be stupid. Laundry after his hockey would be useful but then again, it would be weird having someone know about his hockey obsession in detail...He doubted the paler man knew any good weed dealer so that was out of the picture (Besides, his Dutch childhood friend, Tim, already sources that for Matthew).…that and a near-to-stranger acquaintance should definitely not be involved with his- rather unsavoury- habits
“Can I use you as a Model?”
If it was possible to be strangled by silence, Matthew would have been killed that very moment. In the process of getting ready to blurt out a very traditional Canadian ‘sorry, it’s alright to say no’ Gilbert had narrowed his eyes before eerily nodding for himself as if he had just made a deal with a devil he might regret years down the line. The two boys scrambled to sorting through the intricate plan that the albino has created, marking key scenes and a draft template Matt would draw digitally later on in the ‘calmer’ hours of Friday- if anything like that actually existed, Matthew had convinced himself that the paper drawing would be relatively smooth-sailing to replicate. Sharing toothy grins and even the occasional shuffle and chuckle over new concepts, excitedly the boys exchanged numbers and sorted out deadline dates.
Conversations on 'actual' work diminished and at some point, Matthew’s unfinished summer painting was forgotten; as well as Gilbert’s laptop lid closing, the entire device tucked and buried under paperwork. Bands, Movies and stories flew from each other’s heads into the reciprocating ears back and forth. It felt natural. It felt comforting. It felt nice. Just occupying the former exhaustion of usual loneliness with new found company felt indulgent, really this was something the blonde had been yearning for the past few isolated months (He had friends just not those who were exactly ‘easy’ to talk to). As the boys fondly conversed over everyday idle chat the soft beat of Motion City's Soundtrack 'The Future Freaks Me out' played on- Just as Mattie Noticed from the band shirt, Gilbert had the same taste in music. The thrill of it all sounded lame when he realised he was excited over having a decent conversation, at this point 'what could really get in the way of this perfect afternoon of random sketching and laughable jokes?'
“Heyyyyyy sib….so I was wond-“ Well. The peace lasted while it could. A drastically loud boisterous voice pierced through the solace. Midway the voice seemed to die and as Matthew looked up he realised his newfound peace would be ruined for the rest of the evening, at least that's what could be interpreted when he witnessed his brother's expression:
"WHAT IS HE DOING HERE?" Alfred had choked out and had nearly completely crumpled whatever paper he had been holding. Wincing at the aggressive yet usually intrusive nature and tone of his brother Matthew leant forward with head in his hands and let out what could only describe as a disappointed moan and sgot up stumbling towards his brother.
"Has anyone ever uprightly told you how dramatic you are? I doubt Arth-"  
“HEY HEY NO WE ARE NOT DISCUSSING ARTHUR RIGHT NOW-MATTIE WHAT IS HE DOING IN HERE?!”
If anything, Gilbert was less insulted by being referred to as ‘he’, the majority of his feeling of discomfort stemmed from the fact Alfred never mentioned he had a cute ass brother. Tempted to interject the one-sided conversation, he spectated the two squabbling siblings with the cuter one physically holding Alfred at the door by the shoulders. Wait- Is Matthew Canadian?- Actually, that's a stupid question of course he is...It was obvious considering the boy's room was adorned with RED fucking EVERYWHERE, the occasional hockey sweater on the wall and crooked postcards of typical tourist hotspots like Niagara Falls (Not to mention Canadian flags on any item possible as if some cheesy gift Canadian tourist gift shop- Gilbert had noticed even the abandoned pens on the desk had maple leaf emblems)
But that didn't really add up. The media major tried to do the calculations in his head:
Alfred = American? Yes That's right...
Matthew = Canadian? Well duh, they discussed that earlier and the room...
Matthew = Alfred Brother???  
"Um So...if Mattie is Canadian then how is Alfred Americ-"
"IT'S A FAMILY THING" Both of the two mumbled out as they continued to fuss over each other. Finally, Matthew had stopped Alfred rude gawking and had started lecturing Al over god-knows-what.  
*Buzz* *Buzz*
From his jeans pocket, the Prussian could feel the 'so-very-important' calls of his younger brother, deciding that continuing his project with Matthew would be hopeless with both Alfred and an impatient Ludwig he promptly decided to slip out passed Alfred and bid farewell to the cutie from the room next door.  Was I imagining it or was Matthew blushing? Oh verdammt.
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