#( hahaha bet you thought this was going to be a funny little crack response.

[zealctry]

@neschastnyy said: Dvoynik squinting at Hidan. He smells of trouble. Which he can appreciate.

the ( insistent ) gaze slides up the column of his neck like a fucking ice shiv. ( it’s weird, right? real fucking weird, to be so attuned to when you’re being watched   —and Hidan is used to being watched, if only for his waaay-outside-of-the-cookiecutternorm-appearance— as to feel it in your marrow. some primal sort of instinct, of dance of predation, running through the DNA. or some such other bullshit. ) it doesn’t make him shiver, nor his pulse spike. he’s too accustomed to being on the other side of this sort of interaction for it to truly trouble him. instead, beneath lazily lowered lashes, he sweeps the environment with his gaze, seeking, seeking . . .. .

( he pinpoints the source with frightening accuracy. because when his gaze lifts, it fixes upon the other man, sharp and exact. no hesitation whatsoever. wait, wait a sec— frightening? ha ha, it’s just a little joke. just pure, dumb luck. promise~! )

for a split-second, he considers it ( widening his eyes, raising his eyebrows, lowering his shoulders and slouching his spine. doe eyes, and the posture of— ). but… nah. the screen ( cellphone ) in his hand glows brighter with an incoming message. Hidan ignores it ( doesn’t bat a single eyelash ).

it turns into a staring contest across the distance. a second, five, ten. . ..  ( he foregoes blinking, entirely. his eyes don’t even sting. ) trouble in a funhouse mirror, distorted but reflected back all the same. how fun. wait, what’s the saying again? we can smell our own? ( he’s wrong on that point but oh, so blissfully unaware. the arrogance of youth, or of the knowledge that death is always kept at bay, just out of arms reach; close enough to flirt with, never close enough to fall into its cold embrace. that tidbit, perhaps, heightens his stupidity. but Hidan has always been. . . .if nothing else. . . .part careless, part bold, unrepentant, sheer nerve. )

between them, the cheap ( weak, underfunded, hardly maintained as more than an afterthought in the city council’s budget ) streetlight sputters and flickers, covering everything in yellow light and contrasting shadows, in turns. or really, as much shadow-dark as there can be, against the dull-grey canvas of the cloudy skies ( light pollution makes it so that, within city limits, nothing is truly dark anymore ; all murky, hazy hues, even at nighttime. it really fucks with your circadian rhythms, man. but of course, Hidan’s a city boy. he wouldn’t know.  )

between them, the world itself seems to flicker with static. really, it’s a pretty nice atmosphere, Hidan thinks. very. . ..  mm, moody.

a roll of his shoulders ( there is no tension there, but it’s a nice little stretch ) and a puff of laughter, before he breaks the tension. slips the phone into his jeans' back pocket and . . .. his steps are carefree and rhythmical and carry him easily across the distance. still, he maintains the eyecontact until he’s nearly within arm’s reach, where he stops. tilts his head. ( amusement trembles upon his lower lip, curls the corners of his mouth. )

            “ . .. you gonna stare at me all evening, gonna buy me a coffee, or just have something to say? ��cuz I prefer the latter two, just sayin’. ”

[twodaysintojune]

The Apple Pie Spell 3

Supernatural, Debriel, Warnings-None

Part 1, Part 2, Part 3, Part 4, Part 5, Part 6, Part 7

Find me at AO3

Gabriel was sitting on a chair, looking at Dean’s resting body. He had felt something move in the spell with each kiss Dean had received, it had acknowledged the feelings of each of them but in the end it hadn’t budge. It was a powerful spell after all. He was actually surprised Cas hadn’t felt it’s original source at all, probably because he was not used to Fae energy. But something was missing in the puzzle and he was still unsure of exactly what.

Despite Gabriel’s best intentions, Sam had postponed the search for candidates to kiss Dean up until the next day and had gone to lock himself up in his room but not before asking Cas to join him for a quick talk in private.

Gabriel only guessed what that talk could be about. Seeing how strong the tension was from Sam towards Cas he just hoped the Winchester had gathered some courage to finally confess after seeing how close he had been of losing his chance with the Magpie.

Which led him to his own current situation. Because seeing Cas lean over to kiss Dean had been pretty arousing for a hot second before he felt a sharp pang of jealousy towards his brother go through him, damn, he could even bet his ass Cas had been able to feel it.

But why?

Why was he suddenly jealous when he saw Castiel about to kiss Dean? Gabriel tried his best to remember the last time he ever had this kind of feeling, probably centuries ago with Kali. And it had gone the exact same way. He had been fooling around with her saying it was nothing serious until she suddenly started to date that Hindu god what's-his-name and he had felt like everything was out of sorts until he came out clean to her.

However, unlike with Kali, he had never gotten intimate with Dean. I mean, yeah, there was that one kiss from some time ago but that one didn’t really count, he had just been impulsive for Father’s sake. They were friends, bros, besties. You know, all that shit. They spent an insanely stupid amount of time watching Dr. Sexy reruns and porn and liked to go out and have burgers and beer and laugh and play and fight and do all of that fun and stupid stuff you do with someone you trust.

Someone you love.

Aw shit, Gabriel was knee deep in fucking trouble. He wasn’t even able to hide his blush when he realized the reason that even though Dean had been showed loyal, familiar and revered love, none of it would have been enough. Because this was a Fae spell and the Fae never did their stuff half assed and if there was a tiny sliver of hope that Dean Winchester actually had someone that would love him for who he was and have him as their partner, the spell would only work with that person alone.

Gabriel slowly approached and leaned towards Dean while having all these thoughts, trembling, afraid that his love would not be enough to wake him up. He stopped inches away from Dean’s face. He knew his friend was hot but now Gabriel found him downright handsome and why were things so difficult now? He stopped his anxious thoughts and dived in, joining their lips together with a rushed breath. Father his lips were still the best thing he had ever felt.

Dean woke up to see Gabriel sitting nonchalantly by his side.

“Gabriel?”

Dean made a go to sit yawning, subconsciously, he touched his lips briefly. There was something important he had to notice but before he could pin it out he was distracted by his friend.

“Sup, Dean-o. How’re you feeling?”

“Man, I feel like I got the best nap of my entire life.” Gabriel chuckled nervously. “Dude, you ok? You look pretty wrecked.”

Gabriel opened his eyes wide.

“Me? Hahaha no, not really. I just need to lay down. It was a weird ass day. Maybe you should also rest a bit more, considering you were under a spell and all.”

“Spell?” Dean was still trying to fully wake up. “What do you mean by…” his eyes suddenly lit in realization “The pie”

Gabriel gave him a soft grin and proceeded to explain him all that had happened while he was out. Dean frowned when Gabriel told him of the kiss Cas and Jack had given him with a clear accusatory look that the archangel just laughed aside, he also thoughtfully forgot to tell Dean about the kiss his brother had delivered.

“So you decided you needed to have your fun before using your mojo to lift the spell.”

“Hey, wouldn’t you have done the same in my place?” Gabriel asked shrugging his shoulders “Besides, nobody got hurt this time.”

“Yeah, just because all my lights were out but I would definitely have made a stand against it.”

“I get it tiger, next time I’ll come save you straight out, no detours taken. Should I wear the full Prince Charming attire or just a cape is alright?”

Dean chuckled while receiving the cold beer Gabriel produced out of nowhere.

“How about you stick around and help us avoid this kind of stuff from the start.”

“Heh… If only I could do that...”

Dean looked at Gabriel and tensed up, he was looking aside wistfully in a manner very unlike his usual behaviour.

“Dude, it’s alright, it was a joke. We know you’ve got responsibilities, Heaven needs you more than we do.”

“Yeah… I just wish they didn’t...” Gabriel chuckled bitterly “You know, it’s really funny… All these years, all I ever wanted was to go back home and be needed and now that I have it I… It’s… That place… It’s no longer home.”

Gabriel barely threw the words out of his mouth before a knot forced him to stop. It was the first time Gabriel had dropped all pretense towards himself. He was no longer able to avoid the truth. Tears were forming on his eyes and before he was able to understand what was going on, Dean was pulling him towards a kind embrace.

“Hey, it’s alright. I bet you’ll find a place to call home.”

Gabriel threw his arms around Dean and hugged him as hard as the hunter could take without it being too much. He felt his core cracking a little when he realized that once more he was far from where he really wanted to be. He didn’t want to let go. He wanted to stay here.

“Home...”

[in-paradox-space]

you’re right

we are just choosing to be depressed.

you call it a cold room but I find warmth in the dark blanket of gloom.s

Why is it? We choose the feeling of sorrow over joy.

I suppose if we hold onto it long enough then we can pretend we aren’t the reason. 

We can pretend there’s a we.

Who is he?

Do I need to keep toying with this idea that I am multiple.

Sure, we’re the same person, yes, we are. I need you, you need me and I need I

b u t

We wouldn’t have different desires if we got along

although

we do love each other

what was the moment

was it an indentation

a crack

a split? 

when did I part ways

I remember that younger age

staring into the mirror

Yes. I love myself.

Like a magnet attracted to itself... repulsing any other who came near.

I remember

4 years old 

my dad loved to show me action movies

I don’t care much for fighting now, even then I didn’t, I liked the movies though.

hehe

I remember jumping for joy at the sight of him beating my mother

It used to annoy me so much how my sisters would freak out and yelp

I noticed they’d just make it worse. It completely bewildered me, how this would happen so frequently, enough to make it abundantly clear, how every time they reacted it got worse.

If it bothered them so much then why react? Just accept it. 

I accepted it... because I embraced it. I loved the violence... when it was associated with my father. 

Like I said, not really much of a fighter myself. The movie scenes were always cool though. Especially enjoyed fighting with my dad, although I don’t even remember the moves he taught me I felt like he knew such huge secrets. Such unexpectable tactics, using an opponents body against them. He was the first one I learned that from, I loved it, he knew exactly what someones natural instinct was to defend themselves, so forward-thinking to use that as a means of offense. 

my sisters thought I didn’t understand. I did understand.

I understood they couldn’t control their emotions.

I understood they didn’t really love their mother. If they did then they would’ve understood. They would’ve understood their role. 

I understood, my mother provoked him each time. 

I was 4. Knowledge is learned, but at that age, you just know things, your mind is fresh. You don’t need knowledge, before any time has passed you’ve retained enough information to already have learned.

It became clear step by step. She knew him well enough, they’d been together 2 decades or so. She understood what made him tick. I was only 4 right... I didn’t understand anything did I? Well, I understood what I saw. 

She knew what made him angry. The arguments would reach a logical conclusion. They’d both reach an equal exchange. After much aggrieviation he would accept he did wrong. She wouldn’t, but he was willing to move on if she would just stop shouting at him, he understood she didn’t want to acknowledge anything she did as unjustified.

Then he’d get that look. 

She must know him well enough. I mean, there’s two sides to it. If she cared about herself, she would know just to leave it be at that moment. Provoking him more would have the same result as it always had. Every other day, I remember about 3.5 years of it but who knows maybe it was before then too. 

That’s enough time to recognise every little detail intuitively isn’t it?

I recognised those moments of remorse. 

He’d beg her just to help him 

just to cooperate. 

Then. If she cared about him. If she cared about him she would recognise that any emotion is too much when someone gets to their limit. He doesn’t act like that normally. There’s a reason for it. 

She just didn’t stop. 

She just

didn’t stop. 

The problem is

although, i cant say its a problem because I have to be grateful with my life for it 

is that she started in the first place. 

too stubborn to stop. much like me right now. 

the truth is

I really enjoyed it back then, watching them fight. 

I would love to get good looks at it 

sometimes I’d shout encouragement

go on dad, punch her, yeah! 

It was so exciting. 

Even now, I do find some glee in the thought. 

Of course, I don’t want it now, but I remember the times clearly enough.

tis a shame

they’d always ruin the moment by screaming and crying. it would annoy me so much. I’d tell them shut up. 

damn

that must’ve really screwed em up

i can imagine what it felt like for someone who actually had typical baseline emotional associations for their family members

they was older than me. I imagine they watched their loving father grow more and more stressed, antagonized and relentless. 

it was like, only until we got older, I was the only one who saw the horrible sides of my mother. The neglect. Neglect with the voice of a forced smile. Forced as if someone was literally holding a gun to her. Does it hurt that much? You don’t need to smile and pretend to care mum. I wouldn’t have expected you to care every time. disinterest was completely fine. shame you bottled it all up, concealed it, so poorly. that was so much worse than disinterest.

I got disinterested too you know. 

Shame you had to bottle it into neglect. 

I know it was hard though. I know I was tough. 

Truth is. 

I’d say, I’d put down cigarettes for you. 

but would I? I never really did pause my games for you.

I guess we was both responsible for the cloud of smoke which stopped us sharing our air. 

your mother was right

I’m sorry to bring her into such a note. 

You should have disciplined me.

Funny, how I feel I’m able to blame you for the fact I’m even writing something like this. 

Funny. 

Now I look back. 

If only you disciplined me

yeah we’ll pin it all on that

I bet if you just didn’t smoke... I can’t even imagine it.

starting at age 9

you must’ve had a real tough time back then

honestly

I would love to hear in depth what you went through

im 21 

all I know is some sentences from your entire youth 

childhood to young adulthood 

I would love to know

every, single, minute nuance and indiscrepency of that time when you was 8

even more delightsome

every memory precursing it from 7 and even 6. 

I remember the story of the little chicken you bought

a small price

you had to take it back though. your mum wouldn’t let you keep a little chicken in your room.

well. 

maybe. I know its complicated

but it would have been nice if you all understood back then

that you should have allowed me to be excited and joyful, of my father beating my mother, of my mothers verbal spite returning to her in physical form. 

you didnt need to shield me from the realities. I already saw every detail enough to remember it before I was 4.

No, that didn’t traumatize me. 

I think, I’d be a lot (less) different if it did. 

you didn’t need to shield me.

In my flowery, blossomic fantasy. 

Aysh, my dear sister, you didn’t need to scream and cry.

You could’ve smiled warmly at the fact your darling brother found even this delightsome. 

There’s reason to be joyful in any situation.

My older ones. 

All you did was get in the way. There was no way you could stop me seeing it. Do you think, in the slower perception of time I had in my young brain, that I didn’t absorb every single speckle of detail in the scenario with the long 5 minutes I had to watch it unfold

the 5 minutes you was completely oblivious and dumbfounded

brushing me off to another side of the room wouldn’t stop me from seeing anything

besides i could hear it. 

why did you even make yourselves watch it if you didn’t like it. 

you could’ve stopped it too.

“mum, you’re making him angry. I know you’re upset but just be patient with him. If you give him some space to breathe he’ll show you he already loves you.”

you just had to be patient with him

I guess when you’re hooked on nicotine since age 9, your 4 year old son has taken all your patience for himself. 

Around age 5. 

Although, it honestly dampened my soul to do so.

I copied and imitated my sisters.

It would make them freak out so much more when I screamed in excitement.

Then it would ruin the experience. 

It would annoy me so much. I still feel remnants of the annoyance now. That irritating sound of my sister ugly crying and wailing. the low, long sob. Just pull yourself together. Like, why cry so soon? Just stop. Wow. Why do you even care? 

Look. I care about you... without the thought of you reacting so maternally. 

but come on

why ugly cry so desparingly? Just like. why cry so much each time? It’s happened for years hasn’t it? Why aren’t you numb to it yet? It got boring. It honestly got boring. 

oh same old reaction is it dad? Don’t you get tired of the same old fights and arguments mum? You both know exactly what you’ll say and act... might as well just not acknowledge each other.

You know

the most ridiculous part of it

she would always hit him first

over and over and over again 

like she was literally asking for it

communicating with her hands

go on hit me back hit me hahahaha youre not allowed are you hahahaha you just have to hold onto those tears, mind if i abuse you some more, hit me back, hit me back, hahaha, what are you going to cry in front of your children? no? gonna get angry instead oh boohoo, over and over.

following him as he walked away

literally 

what on earth do you expect?

what really annoyed me

was the fact she’d always get so upset when he finally fought back

and he wouldnt even hit her straight away

he’d do everything he could, knock over furnitures, shout, tell her, even plead with her, just stop, leave me alone, i dont want to argue tonight.

then she’d act like it wasnt her fault

like somehow, she didnt cause it all to happen.

she would tell us all the different ways in which he’s evil.

but she underestimated me because I’m young, i supposedly dont know anything and will believe what I hear

but i saw about 5 events a second, I’d have minutes at a time to watch before anyone else even clocked on. I’d say these things like 20 minutes to maybe 45 but its hard to tell because time was slower back then. honestly felt like 2 hours or so. bored out of my mind, not allowed to watch tv because my sisters were freaking out too much

5 minutes every other day. it becomes very easy to spot the recurring events. then notice in which order they happen. which responses only come when a certain previous event has happened. I knew, i could actually measure, by looking at him, how close to the limit he was, when he reached the limit and how further over the limit he’d need to get for it to physically manifest beyond my awareness and into acts of frustration.

either telling me no you cant watch tv right now or no look away

are you stupid

hahaha

shouldve told me to stay in my room and close my ears instead

maybe that way i wouldve been properly traumatized and scared

then maybe i wouldnt be such a freak now

because id have regular memories to talk through with CBT

 but i wouldnt be scared of my father

you just took your mothers information at face value.

but i saw everything that happened.

and most of all

i didnt just hear his words. i heard HIM

i understood he had a short fuse, he got angry, sometimes he’d even smack us 

but he never hurt us if we didnt do something wrong

he wouldve never laid hand on us without good reason

and yes he’d make sure it hurt but it was only enough to remember what we did and think about it. 

it baffles me

how did they think he would ever hurt them

even when we made him angry

he wouldn’t do that. 

he even tried his hardest, not to hurt the mother of his children

but she literally begged him to attack

legally

you cant beg, ask or plead with somebody to do something without using words

but humans dont exist within the confines of the law

They do exist within the law of the Lord. 

what im saying is, although in a court of law its a discrepency 

you can communicate with your body

with your energy for use of another word

with actions

how absolutely numb do you have to be to not understand, those actions make him  attack you

its not even about standing up for youself

you wouldnt have to stand up for yourself if you didndt provoke him

if youd just love him and forgive him, then we’d all stand for each other

no standing alone for yourself

and only yourself, but in the long run, for nobody. 

so to summarise

what im getting at is

when i was 5. i stopped expressing my excitement. 

and i couldve comfortably stayed there.

i couldve just watched. 

but i skipped a few steps. i decided to mimic and imitate my sisters

why? because children are impressionable? i dont know. i just did it and mimiced. it. i dont know if its because i wanted thme to think i was like them. 

maybe. i was always isolated in how completely different i was from everyone else. maybe even my sister was a consolation at that point, to share a likeness to.

so for a while I would scream, and cry. i was more elastic then, it was easy to produce tears. or would i even cry? id just scream like they did. annoyingly hold onto my sisters and pretend to be scared like they would with each other

yay. were now in this together. 

were doing the samre things.

ugh

that really ruined it. 

they believed it. I wish they’d know me enough to know that wasnt genuine. 

so i stopped 

i stopped pretending 

but by then i didnt enjoy it 

i just found it really annoying that my mum always complained

she would cry

act trapped

all this all that

she didnt love him

and we couldnt care any less

we understood the problem would be solved if she would jsut kick him out, its not like hes holding the family together or anything

but every day no mater how much she’d annoyingly yell and screech shes gonna leave him and kick him out

she would just take him back in 

for like a whole year after that

until i turned 7

it went on and on and on. the same old monotonous reactions. how can the exact same thing, being repeated over and over, incite the same emotional response each time

how on earth is it possible for you not to just lose interest by then to the point you dont even care enough to get angry

i knew i was bored of it 

i just wanted to live my days

but my sisters, who, as far as i knew, had had AT LEAST 3 years to get used to this, always always had the same shocked reactions

wheres the shock? its just dinnertime.

its literally

just 7pm. 

Thankfully, we had time to watch the simpsons. 

it is just 7pm

this is what happens when dad gets home

why are you shocked?

is it a surprise that he didnt give her a rose and lovingly eat dinner

its not a surprise to me 

your idiot little brother who didnt know anything and loves to eat up little white lies like the blind deaf imbecile he is.

why lie? like why?

youre so stupid. you always were. you always underestimated me. it was so horrible of you. to act like just because im 3 and 5 years younger than you that i know less than you, that its my job to pretend to believe your lies. 

why do you think my lack of knowledge is an invitation for you to hide the truth from me

if im in this world, the same world as you, why tell me im in a slightly different world which looks feels and sounds just like the one we share. 

why did you underestimate me? because of my age.

theres a difference between elasticity and plasticity.

i dont say youre stupid because youre old

why do you assume im clueless because im young 

youve had your clues

why dont you humble yourself and ask me for the NEW CLUES

do you think thats it? because you noticed patterns in your upbringing that the netire world will never change? is that what you thought? 

if we both respected each other. if we both understood we could teach each other

then at the least 

it wouldnt annoy me so much  that you would lie to me

maybe it wouldnt annoy me so much that when you tried to teach me division

you made me follow you into the bathroom, so you could hold my homework whie sitting on the toilet, just to make me watch you draw on the back of my homework sheet without even asking permission

why was that? you would always use your height and stature to avoid me coming near your room

but whenever i had something you liked, you’d take it and destroy it, share it with your friends to scribble on and cover it in glitter

there was 3 of you 

there was 3 of you

you didnt need my things. 

you didnt even respect what I had

so you couldnt have wanted or cared about ti that badly

if you love something you destroy it? is that what it is

so, didnt really summarise.

i think thats when my mind split apart into more than one

more than one dude 

but shared

there at the same time

using different connections to understand different things then trying to combine the thought 

but not really settling on one thing.

yeah

it was when

i had to pretend to be normal. when i got sick of that feeling, of them wondering why im so different, in enjoying watching my father fight my mother. 

i had to pretend it upset me.

then, there was two(+?)

me

and the veil I hid behind

but i was flexible back then

it wasnt just faking expression, I was like method acting 

and honestly it really ruined the buzz

i did a lot of pretending after that

when my father left

id just repeat stuff i heard other kids say

i thought it was so dumb. stuff i had no interest in. but i just knew, at those times in introductions and conversations and in response to certain events, the kids who had friends would react like that ... so so so stupidly. they was so dumb. you’re kids. you have such a clear mind HOW CAN YOU BE SO DUMB

maybe thats what comes with being able to trust your parents ha ha ha

and yeah

in some ways, that was worse than being alone

its like i was living 

but i was already dead

please forget how many other people have already said those words and read it again like its the first time, so you can truly understand

its like i was living, yes.

but inside, the real me. I wasnt allowed to live, because as long as I lived, I would be treated like I shouldnt be. Like people dont want to breathe the air around me. 

They gave me the look, the one which resembled how that part of me, behind the door, in the darkness of the light which shines through it to the back of my mind, felt, when they failed to remember the basic things which they had already been taught.

it was upsetting.

its like i was living.

but i wasnt allowed to. 

so the real me had to die

just so i could pretend to be someone im not.

it went on into my teens. 

id cut myself

not because i had any interest in t, i just saw how easy it wa to join the emo kids.

say you have depression, cut yourself, respect people with mental health issues, pretend to love Kellin Quinn, be bisexual and whatnot.

youre one of them

you dont even have to try when it comes to comforting them

use the same buzzwords “ stay strong “ “your skin isnt paper”  “youre beautiful” if course that doesnt work now

but age 13-15. thats the way every girl i spoke to online claled me their best friend. thank you so much for always being there every night i need you

and honestly

i do feel baf for acting like they dont deserve to be honoured in speech of them/

i really really am grateful, they allowed me to feel joy, they allowed me to know what its like to have friends, i shared some resemblance to them. 

im really grateful, they was there to talk to each night. even if it meant i had to convince myself i loved cats.

maybe they understand now

psychoses dont make somebody evil

neuroses shouldnt be the attractive mental health conditions which get all the sympathy

even aggressive people need empathy

they feel it too. 

by the way

obviously

this was trying to paint a picture of how it all started

at least the earliest memories i stil have anyway

i dont still rejoice in the thought of my family being torn apart

and i wouldnt call my sister stupid for being upset.

im glad we’re there for each other now

i wouldnt have it any pther way

and i wish them the best

and im really really really proud of everything my sisters have achieved and even moreso all of the things they continue to do. some of them even inspire me.

[retrauxpunk]

ANSWERING all the instrument asks

you know what. i won’t wait for asks. i’m takin matters into my own bare hands and answering all these feckin questions because i need some mildly pleasant distraction at the moment and i’m procrastinating from packing

STRINGS Violin - Are you a perfectionist? Not ... really? I can be a bit of a control freak though, I like things to be my way. Though that way isn’t necessarily ‘perfect’. Viola - What makes you different? Hmm. I dunno. None of us are uniquely unique. In terms of ‘different to a lot of people’ ... I swallow cherry pits because I can’t be fucked throwing them out. Cello - Favourite place to be? In a nice comfortable space (e.g. cafe, sofa) with my best friends; at my digital art workstation. Double Bass - How do you like to relax? Drawing; eating and reading; with chemical assistance Acoustic Guitar - What instruments do you play? I used to be able to do chords to a bunch of Top 40 pop songs on acoustic guitar. For a very brief time I could play two songs on piano. I know one on the ukulele. So uh ... properly? None. Electric Guitar - Do you experience synesthesia? Not usually Electric Bass - What do you want to study? NOTHING. I’M FUCKING DONE WITH FORMAL STUDY. SEVENTEEN FUCKING YEARS OF IT STRAIGHT. I’M DONE NOW, GET AWAY FROM ME Electric Cello - Favourite composer? I am familiar with barely any, so I gotta go with Roger Waters Electric Violin - Have you ever been in a musical/play? Nope Harp - Favourite piece you’ve played? I recall Taylor Swift’s Starlight being a fun song to play on guitar. Riptide on ukulele is also pretty fun. Ukulele - Are you a good performer? Absolutely not, because I don’t have sufficient skill to give me confidence (or sufficient skill to be ... uh ... good) Sitar - Where do you see yourself in 10 years? Hopefully alive and well, probably married, hopefully with some fucking career stability and satisfaction. Living in Sydney, Melbourne, or London, I’m guessing. Balalaika - Do you enjoy playing sports? No. Unless by sports you mean dicking around on skis/skates by myself. Mandolin - Who inspires you? All artists whose drawings I like inspire me. I don’t get particularly inspired by people who aren’t visual artists / illustrators, because that’s my primary medium of creative expression.

WOODWINDS Piccolo - Describe your personality Self-absorbed creative control freak. Neurotic. Stubborn. A little adversarial in how I think about things, but not in an aggressive way. Individualistic. Actually pretty friendly. Loves shitpost humour. Responsibly hedonistic. Flute - Have you ever gone overseas? I was born overseas, and did a study abroad year in Europe. Yes baby! Oboe - Favourite kind of weather? Comfortable in jeans and a T-shirt (optional jacket), dry, blue skies and sunshine. Or snow. Cor Anglais - Introvert, ambivert, or extrovert? Ambivert (but introvert, if I had to pick one end of the spectrum) Clarinet - How much time do you spend online? haha AHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAH HAHAHAHAHAH Bass Clarinet - Favourite item of clothing? I like hoodies. Really comfortable, warm hoodies and sweatshirts. Bassoon - Do you enjoy online shopping? Absolutely Contrabassoon - Are you brave? In social situations, I guess yeah? If I have to be and/or want to. In terms of physical danger, uhh ... no. Bass Flute - Can you dance? Not really well, but not totally disastrously Soprano Saxophone - How many times have you broken a bone? Once Alto Saxophone - Have you ever pulled an all nighter? A few times, but never for school. Tenor Saxophone - Favourite film? The Matrix Baritone Saxophone - Describe your dream bedroom Comfy double bed. Big window. A spacious desk where I can set up a big monitor and my graphics tablet, and have space to draw traditionally too. Space to jam out on a guitar. A comfy chair. Spacious built-in wardrobe. Ensuite bathroom with amazing shower and a bath. The general colour scheme would be warm off-whites, with splashes of pastel-neon colour (like bright colour that’s faded in the sun). A little rustic. Framed art prints on the wall. A nice speaker system. Soft carpet.

BRASS French Horn - Where are you from? Born in China, grew up in Australia. So the most suitable answer’s Sydney, but you can bet people don’t accept that on account of my non-white features. Also, I feel like I gotta acknowledge my heritage too, so that’s why it’s always a seven-word answer...

Mellophone - Favourite musical? The Book of Mormon Trumpet - What makes you happy? Drawing while listening to good music. Friends. My boyfriend. Pyschedelics. Slide Trumpet - Do you like being outdoors? Sometimes. Cornet - Favourite genre of music? Rock, very broadly Flugelhorn - How do you feel about your past? It’s made me who I am! Cliche cliche cliche. There were some shit parts but also a whole lot of good parts. I think I dwell on and let myself be a fected a little too much by the former, sometimes. But overall I feel hugely privileged and lucky. Bugle - Would you ever join the army? Fuck no. Unless they really needed me. In which case, it must be a hell of a war if they’re coming for me. Trombone - Describe your dream meal God I dunno? Literally anything delicious while high. Or ... opulent and filling, in the company of my favourite people. Valve Trombone - Do you suffer from imposter syndrome? When I’m tutoring or having a crack at stand-up comedy, yes. Bass Trombone - Are you reliable? Sort of. Relatively, yes. Tenor Horn - What do you aspire to be? A successful and happy artist of the visual or literary variety. Baritone Horn - Do you have perfect pitch? ABSOLUTELY NOT Euphonium - Favourite food? Pasta with lots of garlic and cheese. Ramen.  Sousaphone - Who is your hero? Ain’t got no heroes Tuba - How/Why did you join Tumblr? When I first joined the site in 2010 or so, it was because I’d seen some artists I liked using it, and it seemed cool. This particular account started out as a place to keep posts I liked for myself, then when I became really active here it was because I needed a place to vent my feelings about Pink Floyd.

OTHER AEROPHONES Melodica - Do people consider you annoying? Not all the time, probably Harmonica - What makes you laugh? Good comedy, of course (: ...and shitposts Accordion - Favourite Tumblr blog? I don’t really have a favourite, but I’m a fan of @pyrrhiccomedy and @wizzard890 Air Horn - Are you good with kids? I have no idea. Ocarina - Do you know how to do CPR? At one point I did, but I don’t think I properly know how to anymore... Whistle - Favourite smell? I don’t have one particular favourite, but I love the smell of coffee. I’m also a fan of fruit scents. Slide Whistle - What TV shows have you binge-watched? Avatar: The Last Airbender, Scrubs, Parks and Recreation, How I Met Your Mother Didgeridoo - Tell a funny story! One time I thought my mother had found my vibrator which I’d hidden in my wardrobe. She was giving me a conservative-religious spiel about why such things were bad and talking a lot about cooking and the kitchen, and then after a while of being both extremely tense and increasingly confused, I asked her what on earth this had to do with anything ... and that’s how I found out she hadn’t found my vibrator at all, but a penis-shaped baking tray I’d bought in Amsterdam.  Recorder - How well did you do in school? Very well in high school, relatively well in uni (cough motivation problems cough)

PERCUSSION Xylophone - Do you like classical music? It has yet to properly grow on me... Marimba - What’s your ringtone? No idea, my phone’s usually on vibrate or do not disturb. Glockenspiel - Are you talkative? Yes, with good friends. Extremely, on my personal social media accounts. Bongos - Can you jumpstart a car? HAHAHA oh god I know nothing about cars it’s really bad Wood Block - Describe your dream house Sick high-rise apartment in a world city, spacious and luxurious in an indie/artsy way. Serviced and secure. Snare Drum - Favourite colour? Pinks that are on the peachy/red side. Bass Drum - Would you want to be able to read minds? Absolutely not. Timpani - Do you enjoy meeting new people? Online, yes, if they’re nice. In person ... sometimes, depending on mood. Gong - Are you a loud or soft person? Soft generally, loud when with people I like and am comfortable with. Triangle - Could you imagine being the President/Prime Minister? I could, and it’d be absolutely horrible. Steel Drum - Favourite season? Autumn, baby!