#(well aspiring artist anyway)

[atwas-meme-ing]

Zazz the Zeti: worst character voice in the franchise

Infinite the Jackal: best character voice of at least all the villains, if not all characters

Both voiced by the same actor. Seriously, that's some vocal range to go from Zazz's sandpapery redneck screeching to Infinite's smooth, low, sinister speech.

[arminsumi]

two freaks

CHOSO ちょうそう

note : choso crack lol. i love him.

synopsis : you and choso have been the weirdest, freakiest, off-beat duo since the very beginning. your chemistry with each other thoroughly confuses the people around you. just two freaks in freaky love with each other.

warnings : 🔞 some suggestive content, mentions weed/getting high, unedited

no one knows how you and choso started dating. it's a mystery of the universe.

because you and him were always like mismatched socks. and yet you ended up together, for some reason. hell, even when you and choso were just friends you made an inside joke with each other;

"i have a type and you're not it." you'd joke.

"yeah i could never date you, either." choso would joke back.

if one of you accidentally flirted with the other, then you'd laugh and accuse each other of being horny.

"you're horny." you'd say.

"no i'm high."

"i thought you were choso?"

"no i'm your man."

"shit alright, let's get married."

your friends would sometimes overhear this and pull a funny face.

("are you guys crazy or high?")

"bitch, we're both."

you and choso met each other one day at an instrument store. you were accompanying a friend, they were choosing a guitar to gift someone — or whatever it was. anyways, so you were there lingering.

"you listen to the smiths?" choso scrunched his nose up.

"what's that face for! the smiths are great!"

so you and choso stood there, arguing about music. your friend just let you two be and snickered with the store's staff, who knew choso well because he practically lived in the store with how much he visited.

you visited that music store a lot and met choso over and over again, probably for a year before even exchanging numbers. neither of you were interested in each other, and you always argued about music... or at least it seemed like that to everyone else.

you and choso had an underlying comedy to each argument — yes obviously the both of you knew it was not that serious. choso just enjoyed debating music with you and was excited that someone finally debated back. sometimes he disagreed with your opinions even if he agreed, it became an inside joke.

"i like... (artist)" you'd say and then choso would shift his shoulders and lift his chin and reply with "oh, well now i can't like them if you like them. i refuse to associate with you." and you two would laugh.

the music store's staff genuinely thought you two were high every time you spoke, but at the time choso had a rule of never getting high and going in public because he'd embarrassed himself too many times.

sometimes you'd have a spontaneous hang out with choso. because he was spontaneous and you aspired to be.

one time, he said something unexpected when he lit up a blunt. you and him were loitering by a fast food restaurant's drive-thru.

"you know, i like the chemistry between our souls. i think we must have known each other in a past life."

"do you think we were also freaks in our past lives?"

he laughed and nodded, rubbing his watery eye when smoke got into it.

"we were definitely freaks."

"well, i also think our souls have got good chemistry. our souls are freaky."

"yeah, freaky souls."

you and him stared at each other. he seemed high but the rush hadn't even kicked in yet, so it must have been just because of your company.

"yo..." he cooed awkwardly. "sorry, didn't mean to stare." he mumbled something like that and looked away.

"eyes are the gateway to the soul. were you trying to perve on my soul?" you joked.

"yeah, i totally just perved on your soul." he laughed.

on that day, you distinctively remember talking to choso about how you two would be the last people to ever date. and he replied with some joke about "what if it were the apocalypse and we had to breed for repopulation purposes?" (how did you reply? he can hardly remember, all he knows is that he blushed at your reply until his cheeks burned.)

and then a year after knowing each other you were making out violently in his car after some friendofafriend's party. maybe you kissed him because he charmed you by playing the guitar earlier that night — he looked hot doing it, with his hair down, plectrum in between his teeth as he tuned it.

too many times have people scrunch up their noses in confusion when you and choso act like a couple.

whenever they ask;

"oh, are you two dating?"

with a weird attitude in their voice, you and choso troll them;

"no, we're partners in crime."

"yeah i do the killing and she gets rid of the evidence then we make out violently in the back seat of my car."

they look like they regret asking anything about you two. clearly you and choso were freaks.

people in your friend group make jokes all the time about how choso's in it for the pussy and you're in it for the weed.

"no actually i've been cutting back on my pussy consumption." choso replies with a face so plain that you could take him seriously.

"oh i been hittin' that blunt from the back lately i just can't get enough of it."

you completely confuse the people around you and troll them just for amusement. but truly you and choso do get fed up sometimes. it's sickeningly repetitive.

sometimes choso gets snappy, especially if it's a guy asking you;

"that's your boyfriend?"

"yeah that's her boyfriend." choso clenches his jaw and steers you into his arms.

ah, and his most classic response;

"are you her boyfriend?"

"no, i'm her wife."

© arminsumi

I do not permit the copying/reposting/translation/plagiarism of my works. Do not steal what I've worked hard to create.

This is fictional work.

[harrysgal]

I DIG YOUR CINEMA (2)

harry styles x yn aspiring filmmaker — social media AU

I know I’m just starting and don’t actually have much experience with this, but I’m actually having a lot of fun doing it and already can’t wait to post more.

About the smau: yn starts posting videos on youtube and is trying to build a career as a filmmaker. Things are going pretty well for her and she starts getting more attention when she creates content about shows she goes to. She’s also a fan of Harry’s music and some of his fans start getting suspicious when his team starts interacting with her.

Disclaimer: The story it’s set in 2021 and it will follow their relationship through the LOT leg in the US. Since this is nothing but fiction, I will be following some of the real timeline but also adding my own stuff. On top of that, I won’t be basing myself on Harry’s actual posts.

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PART 1 — MEET YN / MASTERLIST

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I DIG YOUR CINEMA (PART 2) — LAS VEGAS

liked by bestfriend, yourmom, mollyjane_x and 22,108 others 

yourinstagram HELLOOOOOOO FABULOUS LAS VEGAS NEVADA 

view all 3,045 comments

user1 soooo… a new full time job that took you to las vegas? 👀 yourbrother Please behave  bestfriend don’t get (too) drunk without me pls harryfan STOP FIRST LOT SHOW IT’S IN VEGAS 

↳ harryfan2 She’s going to the show right???? I mean it can’t be just a coincidence anymore IT JUST CAN’T ↳ harryfan NO I KNOW THIS IS IT I CAN FEEL IT IN MY BONES

Aug 26, 2021 •

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liked by bestfriend, cuteguy, mollyjane_x and 22,451 others 

yourinstagram you’d think a lady in vegas would be out there getting wild but this one actually has been locked in her hotel room for the last 27 hours overthinking her ideas and freaking out about this new job lol if any of you could send me a pizza or something id appreciate it. thanks. 

view all 3,111 comments

user1 nooooo you’re so talented whatever it is i know you can do it!! bestfriend yn ✋🏻  cuteguy Should I give you a call? 😊 harryfan17 I would too be freaking out if I had to work for THE harry styles lol

↳ harryfan16 we still don’t know if she is tho  ↳ harryfan17 C’mon she’s in vegas and molly and jeff are following her ↳ harryfan16 still 🤷🏻‍♀️ tour doesn’t start for another few days so this could be just about something else  ↳ harryfan16 also maybe she’s there because she wants to be and not bc she’s “working” for him. she’s done videos about several artists and she isn’t working for any of them is she?  ↳ harryfan17 Well yes but she literally just said she was starting a new job so 🤷‍♀️ ↳ harryfan16 so everyone just assumed HARRY, out of all people, hired her? c’mon guys lol she could be working for just anyone and STILL go to a show. one doesn’t have to be related to the other.

Aug 28, 2021 •

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liked by anthonypham, bestfriend, lookitsnyoh and 25,103 others 

yourinstagram fun fact: if you post something on the internet people around you might see it 🫠

guess im lucky this lovely group who still don’t know me at all cared enough to drag me out of my room and show me around the city. sometimes i get so caught up inside my mind that i forget how important human connection is — which is funny if you think most of my videos are exactly about that lol. so plssssss make sure to surround yourself with (nice) people. also get some sleep, drink water and feed yourself. it’ll do wonderful things for you!!!

anyway my mom was worried about my “not leaving the room post” so this is just me saying everythings good!! (i also already called her of course <3)

view all 3,557 comments

bestfriend LOVE YOU harryfan the new followers the new likes 😭 it’s happening i knew it  user1 so true bestie!! this reminded me of your 2nd video i think

↳ yourinstagram omg yesssss!!  ↳ user1 ahh i missed your interactions <3  ↳ yourinstagram i knowww! promise i’ll try my best to keep interacting even if it’s not as much as before 💗

lookitsnyoh my belly still hurts from all the laughing 

↳ yourinstagram and my mind is still rushing from all the talking ↳ anthonypham go to sleep you two 

harryfan9 I DON’T KNOW WHAT’S HAPPENING BUT OMFG I’M SO HERE FOR IT

Aug 29, 2021 •

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liked by anthonypham, mollyjane_x, bestfriend and 27,257 others 

yourinstagram sightseeing left me speechless. but here’s a picture from tonight. 

view all 4,107 comments

user1 omg you’re feeding us this week! i’m so happy you’re being active again <3 harryfan78 POST A PICTURE OF YOURSELF I WANT TO MEET YOU AT THE SHOW BUT I DON’T KNOW WHAT YOU LOOK LIKE 

↳ user4 calm down pls? we like to behave as respectful human beings on this profile

bestfriend ❤️❤️❤️ bestfriend i’m losing my mind but i’m also so excited and proud! user7 I miss your videos :( lookitsnyoh when was this? where was I? bummed that I missed it!

↳ yourinstagram sorryyy just a last minute decision after dinner :( ��� lookitsnyoh ohhhh makes sense now! Glad it left you speechless ↳ yourinstagram i mean the city is beautiful  ↳ lookitsnyoh sure thing it is 👽

Sep 1, 2021 •

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liked by harryfan, harryfan2 and 15,157 others 

fanwhometharry GUYS I JUST MET HARRY I’M SHAKKNG I DON’T KNOW WHAT TO DO WITH MY LIFE NOW 

view all 2,107 comments

harryfan64 omg where did you meet him??

↳ fanwhometharry AT THE BELLAGIO  ↳ harryfan64 is he staying there???  ↳ fanwhometharry NO!! I MEAN IDK?? I DONT RHINK SO I JUST MET HIM OUTSIDE AT THE FOUNTAINS  ↳ harryfan74 hmm not tryin to be rude or something but that sounds like a weird place for him to be tbh ↳ fanwhometharry I FUCKKNG KNOW THAT?? I MEAN MY PARENTS WANTED TO SEE THE WATER SHOW SO I TAGGED ALONG BUT NEVER EVER THOUGHT ID BUMP INTO HIM THERE

harryfan62 you’re so lucky!! was he alone???

↳ imetharry I DONT KNOW?? I DONT REMEMBER I WAS SO NERVOUS  ↳ imetharry I KNOW THERE WAS A GIRL NEARBY BC SHE HANDED HIM A PEN WHEN I COULDNT FIND MINE BUT I DONT KNOW IF SHE WAS WITH HJIM OR NOT ↳ harryfan62 who was this girl? Anyone from the LOT crew? ↳ imetharry IDK I JUST SAID I DONT EVEN KNOW IF SHE WAS WITH HIM OR NOT 😭

harryfan15 Hi hun! Don’t listen to people, they're just jealous. It was really sweet of him to sign that for you! Hope you have a great time at the show 💕

↳ imetharry THANK YOU 😭😭 HE WAS THERE JUST WATCHING LIKE A NORMAL PERSON SO I DIDN’T WANT TO TAKE A PIC IF PEOPLE DON’T BELIEVE ME THEN I DON’T CARE I KNOW IT’S REAL 😭😭

Sep 1, 2021 •

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liked by gemmastyles, anthonypham, jefezoff and 35,109 others 

yourinstagram having to keep this secret from the world was the most cruelest thing that anyone has ever done to me. but whatever… it’s fine… i’m okay… i’m just gonna pretend this wasn’t a big deal and i didn’t just watch one of my favorite artists perform my favorite songs… and then i’ll just casually say: pls stay tuned for next wednesday when my new video will be up 😇

(i’ll be back and share more details once my serotonin levels have normalized again)

view all 7,125 comments

bestfriend i love you so much thank you for representing us so well  harryfan I KNEW IT I KNEW IT I KNEW IT OMFG I CANT WAIT I KNEW IT harryfan2 YN KASDHUHHD PLS OMFG YOU CAN’T JUST SAY THIS AND LEAVE user1 😲 i can’t wait for this one! harrystyles soz 

↳ harryfan OMFG HARRY ↳ harryfan5 ?????????????????????????? ↳ harryfan3 AUIDHIAUSHDBAJH WTF ↳ harryfan9 ARE YOU F KIDDING ME WHATS HE DOING HERE

cuteguy Nice! Glad you’re having a good time darling. 

Sep 4, 2021 •

— — — — — 

PART 3: DENVER

— — — — — 

If you happen to read and enjoy this, pls let me know? 🙏 thanks!! it would be nice to know if this is working, or what else would people would like to see.

[moiraimyths]

Howdy, fateful friends! Are you an artist or illustrator with an interest in visual novels?

If so: Moirai Myths, creators of the visual novel The Good People (Na Daoine Maithe), are in need of guest artists! More specifically, we're looking for up to two artists to help us with the content graphics ("CGs") for Maeve and Shae's upcoming routes. All of the details will be listed on our application form (linked below), but here is the gist:

This is paid work with 20-30 business day deadlines per piece!

Complicated revisions in the post-sketch phase are compensated!

You will be prioritized for future guest artist opportunities!

You will be featured/credited on Moirai Myths' website and in the game itself!

Sound interesting? If so, apply here:

Click under the cut for some F&Q 👇

Who are you? (I'm new here!)

Hi! We're Moirai Myths: a small, newish visual novel company based out of Canada. We're making a game inspired by mostly Irish mythology, which was funded on Kickstarter in 2023! Our game's got fairy politics, a diverse cast, a Gaeilge-to-English translation tool, and routes that can be played either romantically or platonically! Also horses. An ungodly amount of horses, really.

If that odd pitch sounded intriguing, perhaps you'd like to play our demo! It's free on Steam & Itch.io.

Why are you looking for guest artists?

When we originally launched our Kickstarter, the plan was to have our three in-house artists collaborate on the CGs in the same way our header image was. However, we quickly realized that adding CGs, even if they're done collaboratively, onto the existing duties of our artists was a tall order. Add to that the departure of our original sprite artist (who has since been replaced by our graphic designer), and we determined that having our in-house team work on CGs was simply not possible if we still wanted our first release to happen in 2024. So, rather than omitting CGs or adding them in at a later time, we came up with the idea of hiring guest artists. Overall this means our CGs will be a bit more varied in terms of art style, but we like to think of this as a positive! NDM's development will take a number of years to complete in full, so we hope our CGs will allow us to feature a lot of artists either within the VN/indie dev community already, or artists who aspire to work in gaming and are looking for entry positions.

How long will applications remain open for?

This application will be open until Sunday, March 24 at midnight (EST)! If we intend to extend past that deadline, we'll make an announcement about it.

I can't apply right now. Will you look for more CG guest artists in the future?

Definitely! As mentioned, NDM will take a while to develop in full, so this is by no means your only opportunity to apply. That being said, we suspect we're going to end up shortlisting a number of artists over the course of this application period, and we intend to keep a list of all the runners-up. So, even if you won't be able to participate this time, it might be a good idea to apply anyway just to remain in our contacts! Either way, this will not be the last time we have apps.

Will you be looking for guest artists outside of CGs?

Maybe! We already have two guest artists (Nefukurou and Madi Funk) working on sprites and CGs respectively, so it's always possible that we'll have other artistic needs later down the line. Likewise, we may also reach out to past guest artists for future work with us, whether it's on this game or something else!

You say we need to sign an NDA. What does that entail?

The non-disclosure agreement essentially means you will be legally unable to publicly disclose any confidential information you become privy to as a result of working with us. This would include personal information about the developers, as well as spoilers from the game itself. In addition do this, you will be expected to sign over the IP and copyright of any artworks you produce for us.

Can I still use my artworks in portfolios, even if I don't own the copyright?

Yes! We'd only ask, if your portfolio is a website, that you wait to do so until after your art has been made public by us, either on our social media or via the publication of the game. Our first release is anticipated to happen later this year, most likely mid-autumn.

How do you guys feel about AI? Do you intend to use it, or would you ever train an AI off of the artworks whose copyright you own?

No.

Making a game is expensive and time-consuming, but AI is no replacement for human artistry. We fundamentally believe that any advancements in AI should be used for the purpose of giving people more time to make art, not take away opportunities for it. Moirai Myths will never, ever use AI or train an AI off your work.

***

If you've got any more questions for us that we didn't think to include here, feel free to send us an ask!

[hotvintagepoll]

FINAL POLL OF ROUND 3

Propaganda

Glynis Johns (Mary Poppins, The Court Jester)—LISTEN, I'd let that woman's voice with all its gravely hoarseness (positive) wash over me all goddamn day, but if that's not enough she managed to play the straight woman to Danny Kaye's jester, all with her cleavage so plunging it might as well have been catapulted into the ocean right after Basil Rathbone

Meena Kumari (Sharada, Dil Apna Aur Preet Parai, Sahib Bibi Aur Ghulam)— Meena Kumari was Indian actress and poet, regarded as the "Tragedy Queen of Bollywood" due to her legendary performances in emotionally charged roles. Using words from her biographer: "She had many dimensions — she read poetry, had many literary friends, [and] aspired to the higher life." Meena had an incredibly difficult life, and translated this pain into her volatile acting performances. She is an artist beloved and revered by her fans.

This is round 3 of the tournament. All other polls in this bracket can be found here. Please reblog with further support of your beloved hot sexy vintage woman.

[additional propaganda submitted under the cut.]

Glynis Johns:

She walks the line between sexy and cute. Her best role for me is in "The Court Jester as Maid Jean. She's fantastic as the soft but tough captain of the outlaw band and she looks stunning in every gown she wears throughout the film. And of course we can't forget her iconic turn as the suffragette mother, Mrs. Banks, in Mary Poppins! Also shoutout to her distinctive and beautiful voice, kind of smoky and husky. Extremely hot and set her apart from many of her peers."

"She was amazing in Mary Poppins (the Suffragette song is severely underrated) and apparently she was Welsh? National pride! And she advocated for arts funding in Wales, which is very cool. Also, she died recently (RIP) making her one of the last survivors of the Golden Age of Hollywood, according to Wikipedia. Also also, she just has a cheeky energy I like? And her eyes are beautiful!"

"She had this wonderful wit and charm to her no matter the role and the most distinctive, striking voice!"

"I mean, incredibly beautiful and talented, can do drama can do comedy. And she was a mermaid."

"Like Bette Davis she has eyes to die for. Unlike Bette Davis you felt comforted by them, even when she was batting her eyelashes at you. Would glady go to Downing Street with her and throw things at the Prime minister"

"Listen, listen. I was raised on Mary Poppins and "Votes for women! (step in time)" single-handedly taught me how to be a feminist. Also The Court Jester is one of my favourite movies of all time and she is UNBELIEVABLY gorgeous, charismatic, funny, and clever in it. She knocks several men out. Absolute icon."

"I love Glynis Johns. Most of the reason is The Court Jester where she's a sensible and capable foil to whatever what going on with Danny Kaye at the time. She was also the first star I based an OC on. An OC that I still have to this day! Anyway here have some YouTube links love u bye"

Mermaid clip:

Court Jester (sharing a bed trope):

Court Jester (seducing the king):

"VOTES FOR WOMEN! Well, votes for this woman. Please."

Meena Kumari:

Gifset 1

Gifset 2

Gifset 3

Gifset 4

[miumura]

ᶻ 𝗓 𐰁 — TEN THINGS I HATE ; JAY FIC

“ I’ll do better, if you stay with me like this. ”

.𖥔 ݁ ˖ where jay keeps a journal where he documents all the reasons he hates you, his rival. despite claiming he will forever hate you, keeping this journal only makes him realize his feelings for you.

PAIRING rival!jay x gn!reader

GENRE angst, fluff — WARNINGS jealousy ; overthinking !

WORD COUNT 1.7K+ (1730)

.𖥔 ݁ ˖ soph strikes again!! angst cb, did we cheer?? anyways i was in the feels okay 😢 listening to music while writing really unlocks something in ur brain im telling you…idk what really went thru my mind when making this but enjoy 😊🫶

#1 – HOW YOU’RE GOOD AT EVERYTHING.

Is it normal to have a journal dedicated to someone you hate? Whatever, I just need to get this off my chest. Whenever you’re involved, it’s like I could have nothing I want. It’s stupid, but I don’t care, it just pisses me off when you easily follow instructions, perfect things on your first try, and get all the awards I wish to have. I admit, jealousy consumes me. It's frustrating how effortlessly you seem to achieve anything you want without even trying. Seeing your achievements plastered all over the school only intensifies my anger, making me wish I could tear your posters into shreds. I've never despised second place more than now. Why can't I find contentment with my own scores or position, just like you? How can I remove you from my life and find peace within myself?

#2 – HOW CHEERFUL YOU ARE.

How is it possible for someone to remain so happy throughout the entire day? I can't help but wonder if you possess some magical influence over my friends, as they seem to shower you with compliments non-stop. It's weird to hear nothing but praise for you while I find myself complaining about various things. It's almost as if nobody comprehends why I harbor such animosity towards you, and this frustrates me immensely. Every time I express my emotions, they tell me to laugh and smile more, as if I don't already do it enough. But then, when I contemplate your cheerful and positive demeanor, it becomes clear why they encourage it. You're like the epitome of a model student everyone aspires to be, while I remain the perpetually angry and stubborn person. No wonder everyone wants to spend time with you, and perhaps that's one thing I can agree with others on.

#3 – YOU LIKE THINGS THAT I LIKE.

It's almost like a curse that we share the same interests. It's the reason I keep encountering you everywhere. Whatever I do, you seem to be there, expressing your fondness for the same things with your friends. It's frustrating, and I can't help but roll my eyes at the thought of encountering you even more. Even listening to music has become a challenge, as I know you like the same artists. I purposely skip their songs because they only remind me of you, and I hate being consumed by thoughts of you. I yearn to stop learning more about you so that I can enjoy the things I like in peace, without these constant reminders of you.

#4 – YOU MAKE ME OVERTHINK.

Maybe because of how perfect you seem to be in other’s eyes, I wonder how I look in other people’s eyes too. Am I that awful to hang out with? Am I always seen as this angry person who hates everyone? I’m not that, I know that–my friends do as well. But others? I’m not so sure about that. What confuses me even more is why you persist in wanting to spend time with me despite any perceived flaws or stubbornness on my part. You could easily choose to be with other people who might seem better to converse with. Yet, you continue to stick around, refusing to give up on our “friendship”. And because of this, I can see how others might form a negative opinion about me. My constant push to keep you away could be misunderstood, leading people to believe I'm simply a horrible person.

#5 – YOU LIKE ME.

I'm not sure if you have romantic feelings for me, but I can tell that you consider me a friend. It's interesting because I hadn't thought of you in that way before, but it doesn't seem to bother you. Today, you stood up for me, and it felt really heartening. Normally, I might have felt angry or vulnerable when someone defends me, but this time it was different. I don’t know, it just did feel really nice. Your quick response in telling those people to stop was captivating, even though I didn't express my gratitude at the moment. Lately, I've been struggling with the loud voices in my head, and sometimes I wonder if you could help quiet them too. But now, I'm not sure what I'm trying to convey. You confuse me a lot.

#6 – YOU GIVE THE WRONG PEOPLE SECOND CHANCES.

The other day, I saw you in tears because someone had broken your heart. I must admit, I was taken aback because I had never seen you sad or upset before. It was quite a contrast to the cheerful version of yourself that I'm familiar with. What happened to you that everyone sees all the time? I hope you had someone to tell you your problems too, as it’s not easy for someone who is your rival to be comforting you. I didn’t, so I hope you went home that night filled with less worries because you have someone to talk with.

What surprised me even more was that the very next day, you gave the person who hurt you a second chance. I can't help but wonder why you keep allowing people to hurt you when it's likely they'll repeat the same behavior, ultimately affecting your radiant smile. Stop going back to the people that hurt you once, it’s only going to be a cycle. I wish I could share these thoughts with you, but I hesitate because I doubt you'd take them to heart coming from someone like me. However, I can't help caring despite my own imperfections. It's puzzling to me as well, as you make me feel oddly connected to your feelings.

#7 – SEEING YOUR TEARS.

I never imagined how much I could despise seeing someone cry until the moment I witnessed your tears. Ever since that day, I always thought about it, so how could I let it slip out of my mind this time? I’m sorry for yelling at you today. I’m sorry for saying I hate you. I didn’t mean it, I was just extremely frustrated today, and not at you. I’m sorry. I’m sorry. I’m sorry. I know how saying this won’t do anything, but I truly mean it. I wish I could rewind time once I saw water fill up in your eyes, but what’s done is done. You made me realize something crucial—that I've always seen you as a rival, whereas you only wanted to be friends with me. I allowed my competitive nature to ruin our chances of a meaningful connection. I fear now that you might avoid me, and I understand if you do. I worry that I might continue to hurt you, just like the people you often encounter, who don't treat you with the kindness you deserve. You deserve better than that, and I'm sorry for contributing to your pain.

#8 – GIVING ME ANOTHER CHANCE.

I never imagined we'd get another chance after what happened. I tried avoiding you, genuinely attempting to keep my distance. But no matter how hard I tried, I couldn't resist reaching out to talk to you again. It's almost as if we both sensed the need to address the situation, leading us to have that important conversation. I still don’t know why you gave me another chance. Did I not say hurtful things to you? How easily are you able to put that behind? Your ability to forgive and move past it leaves me in awe.

It's making me reflect on my own flaws, especially how I tend to hold grudges and struggle to let go of negative feelings. I can't quite comprehend how you do it, but you make me think about you more than ever before. Every word I speak now feels like it needs to be carefully considered, thanks to your presence in my thoughts. Your gesture of offering another chance touched me deeply and brought a smile to my face. I can't help but wonder what you've done to influence me in this way. I think you really did something to me.

#9 – FEELINGS, FEELINGS, FEELINGS.

We've connected much faster than I anticipated, even surprising my friends. I'm left wondering what you've done to me. You've become an all-encompassing thought – your smile, your laughter, your sense of humor – everything about you fills my mind. At times, I ponder whether I ever cross your thoughts too. Could this be love? My friends have mentioned it, and I can't find a way to refute them. I'm fond of you, immensely so. Isn't that a crazy twist?

It's a strange journey we're on. I started this journal to document the reasons I disliked you, but look at where it's led us. Is it too soon to be feeling this way? The idea of revealing my feelings is terrifying, yet I'm unsure if I'll ever have another opportunity. Please bear with me, allow me to find the right moment. Perhaps soon, hopefully, you'll be in my arms. I realize how absurd all this sounds – what am I even saying?

#10 – HOW EASY YOU WON ME OVER.

You won. You won my heart effortlessly, but I didn't win yours in return. I'm burdened with regret for how I've treated you. My ignorance and neglect weigh heavily on me now. It's painfully clear that he's all you've ever been able to think about. Why did I delude myself into thinking I could make a difference? If only I had treated you with the kindness you deserved from the start. Could that have made you love me instead? These thoughts haunt me.

I've grown aware of my own attachment, and I'm sorry for allowing it to consume me. I apologize for the disruption I've caused in your recent weeks. I can't bring myself to be genuinely happy for you and him, though he does seem like a better man than I could ever be. It's evident that I need to move on for your sake, to make things easier for you. Yet, there's a part of me that wishes I could still claim you as mine. That longing will always remain unchanged.

I doubt you'll ever stumble upon this journal entry, not that I would ever permit anyone to. But regardless, I want you to know that I do love you. It's a truth that's etched deeply within me, even though it pains me to admit it.

💭 — fun fact this was supposed to have a happy ending until i pulled out spotify n listened to lyn lapid…yeah.

ENHA PERM TAGLIST (🎥) — @flwoie @ixomiyu @yenavrse @shinsou-rii @bearseulgs @ilovewonyo @yenqa @dimplewonie @bubblytaetae @wtfhyuck @ineedaherosavemeenow @starcubes @starikizs @wonioml @chirokookie @xiaoderrrr @neozon3nha @en-chantedtomeetyou @millksea @enhaz1 @eundiarys @woon2u @ja4hyvn @judeduartewannabe @j-wyoung @thia-aep @vampcharxter @softpia @officiallyjaehyuns @itsactuallylina @hsheart @sweetjaemss @ahnneyong @hanienie @jwnghyuns @kpoplover718 @jiawji @rikizm @haknom @yeokii @wvnkoi @whoschr @teddywonss @shinunoga-iie-wa @flwrshee @skzenhalove @misokei @s00buwu @ox1-lovesick @miercerise @litttlestars @enhapocketz

[solreino]

Swan Song

Chapter 1: Taking Flight

Summary: In preparation for your debut as Odette in Swan Lake, you encounter a few bumps in the road. Little do you know this is just the start.

Pairings: TF 141 x Reader

Word Count: 5.1K

Warnings: Eating Disorders, Toxic Beauty Standards, Creepy/Unwanted Behaviour, Period-Typical Attitudes (1910's), Innacurate Translations.

A/N: I'm not well informed about ballet, I have never danced it before, so I apologize for any inaccuracy regarding terminology. Also, the story is set mainly in Russia, so the reader is presumed to be of Russian origin.

MASTERLIST Next➔

[November 11th 1911, The Bolshoi Ballet Academy, Russia]

"1 and 2 and 3 and 4!”

Your eyebrows furrow in concentration as Mr. Lenkov begins to play Tchaikovsky’s Swan Lake Suite, Op. 20a: I. Scene "Swan Theme" for what feels like the sixth time this hour. His nimble fingers dance across the ivory keys once again as the composition presumes its macabre melody.  

To say the last few weeks have been stressful would be a dire understatement. Since taking up the role of Odette in Autumn, you’ve yet to recall the last time you’d had the pleasure of succumbing to the sanctity of slumber, nor rest altogether for that matter. From dawn to dusk, you’ve found the studio becoming a second home to you; like an ever-so gracious host with a tendency for passive-aggressive hospitality, who coaxes you from the front door in promise of warm tea and a place to rest your head, insisting you stay "just one more hour". You know better, well at least you think you do, because beyond the studio door you know there’ll be no rest awaiting you, only relentless recital. Still, you don’t look back as you accept its welcoming embrace. Because- 

Anything but perfection would not suffice. You see, back-breaking discipline; impeccable precision; artistic competence; meticulous dedication, it’s nothing new to ballet and in turn, it’s nothing new to you, either. To be a ballerina means to surrender yourself to the artistry, and let your body become its mindless muse.

The Ballet industry is an anomaly compared to other artistic sectors. Unlike others, it subverges from the ideals of ‘beauty in the eye of the beholder’. Conformity is key. There are strict standards to be met and an unquestionable quota to be completed. Anything but, will not do. It disregards the need to sugarcoat its shallow requirements; skinnier, sharper, prettier, thinner; if it fulfills the requirements, it will suffice. 

Image is everything. It’s a shallow, superficial sentiment that directors set upon budding ballerinas like hounds to hares. From day one, they plant it into the impressionable minds of aspiring dancers. Uncontrollably, self-doubt sprouts like a stubborn weed. Each off-hand comment or direct dig, whether it be about a girl’s weight of en pointe form, encourages the festering parasite to root itself deeper into her mind. Then she grows older - it’s too late - and the parasitic thought has poisoned her once innocent outlook on life and has rotted it right to its roots. For the rest of her tragic life, the girl will only know the number on the scales, the image in the mirror, and the misery in her mind. 

You’ve seen it happen to others. You’ve seen it happen to you, because-  

Ballet has ensnared you - mind, body, and soul. Over the years, you’ve felt its callous claws dig deeper and deeper into your flesh, leaving scars so severe - both physically and mentally - sometimes the pretty pink ribbons you adorn your feet with prove futile in the bid to cover them. Prodding and poking and probing; fingers jabbing mercilessly into your sides, accompanying a doubly ruthless "you'll need to lose this extra weight if you want a spot on my stage". For a sport so vain, you ought to think it would go easy on its victims. A session of self-reflection proves otherwise.

You learn to bear and grin through it all. You don’t have much of a choice anyways. After all, many before you have suffered the same, and those who come after you will too. Because after many years of being a ballerina-

You learn to see beauty in the pain. 

The blood you bleed makes the red roses you receive at curtain call worthwhile; the sadistically sweat-inducing masterclasses make the shining smiles and standing ovations from awestruck audiences worthwhile; the tears make the champagne chutes you get to drink at the expense of your company worthwhile. You chase these highs like you do with stardom.  

All you've ever dreamed of since a little girl was to be a ballerina. Perhaps, it was the beautiful dresses a child of your class could only dream of back then, or how pretty the woman on the front page of your father’s newspaper looked posing on the tip of her toes. You don’t know for certain what exactly it was that enthralled you with it all. Sometimes, you wish you had never boarded that train to Moscow, never bothered with all that came with being a ballerina. It’s a selfish and self-deprecating thought, for you know if you were to stay on that homestead, there was an imminent chance you would have succumbed to the troubles of poverty you had faced back home. Admittedly, there are times you miss your life before coming to the city. None can be done about that, however.

Now, you have to push your body to its limits and beyond. Daily, you trespass boundaries you had once believed your body did not possess the ability to, reciting the same sequences endlessly, over and over again, until you physically can’t pursue your practice further that day. Even then, you find yourself persevering through the pain and fatigue; limbs heavy like lead; a mind strong like steel. If you knew your efforts were futile in the bid to rid yourself of any flaws in your dance, you would be wrong because-    

Ultimately, you knew no matter how much effort you exerted, the Dance Principal; Ballet Mistress; the reputable Madame Orlova would not miss a single thing.

For decades, word has circled Moscow of the cold-hearted, quick-witted, sharp-tongued old woman who ran the prestigious academy with an iron fist. It was just your luck that she had taken you under her wing as one of her pupils. You dare say she had taken a liking to you, though, she did have a tough way of showing her fondness onto others. 

Never a day was there without some sort of mistake to be mended by her recognition. At times you think God had cursed her to be forever unfulfilled in her outlook of life. The others in the Troupe seem to think so too. 

You dread to think of how much Mr Lenkov’s fingers must be hurting from playing the same melody over and over again for this past hour. It wouldn’t surprise you if the composition begins to haunt your dreams like a creaky, broken music box. You’ve never had the pleasure of owning one, though you had seen one in the window of a repair shop one time and-

And, as the Ballet Mistress shouts at Mr Lenkov to cease his playing, you know she has once more found a flaw in your dancing. 

The symphony stops abruptly with a garble of incoherent notes before it can reach its crescendo. Inwardly, you sigh. 

"No, no, no!" She scolds.

Her boney fingers rub feverishly against her temple in frustration. Rising slowly from her chair before you, her walking cane thumps anticipating against the studio’s oakwood floor as she ambles towards you. Wrinkled eyes bore into you; you struggle to withstand the urge not to writhe under the intensity of her stare.

"Your arms,” She begins slowly, her gaze raking over you in scrutiny, “They are stiff.” 

“From the shoulder to the fingertips,” She gestures with her hand down the length of your arm as she speaks. “It must flow, like the wing of a swan.”

She uses the moment of silence as you take on the command to survey your form, prodding and poking your stance to adjust it to her liking. 

“Do not forget this.” She finishes. 

"Yes, Madame Orlova," You nod in acknowledgment, wincing slightly each time her finger jabs into your shoulder blades and readjust your position to better suit her expectations. 

She huffs a breath in what you can only presume is somewhat satisfaction, signaling for Mr Lenovo to resume playing.

“Again!”

The song resumes its somber sound, and you take heed to the Ballet Mistress’ words. Flowing from your shoulder blades to your fingertips, you encapture the essence of the White Swan; melancholy in her mourning of a lover whose heart he had promised to another. She is vulnerable in her virtue, and she shows that in her final flight. Odette longs for the skies, for an escape from the betrayal of who she had held dear, but her wings fail her. In desperation, she flexes and flaps her wings, but alas, she cannot take flight. And so-

You spiral in a presession of slow spins, arms portraying the anguished attempt the Swan Queen takes to take flight for the final time before decelerating into a despairing descent as Odette. The tune tumbles to its end from beneath Mr. Lenkov’s fingers as you complete your practiced plummet to the studio floor, encasing your body with your arms the wings of the white swan, as the grief-stricken creature takes its final breath. 

You raise your head to look at Madame Orlova.

And, for the first time in your decade-long enrollment at the Bolshoi Ballet School, you think you see the infamously stone-faced stone-hearted ballet mistress smile. 

It's a cold evening in Moscow tonight. The winter winds thrash ferociously at the loose and unraveling threads of your scarf. Whilst it does little to protect you from the frigid frost lingering in the air, you wear it anyways as any warmth you can garner to combat the icy environment is, in your eyes, worthwhile.

Snowflakes dust your hair with specks of glistening white, gathering upon the crown of your head where you have neglected to put on a hat. They tickle your nose and gently brush against your rosy cheeks as you tilt your head back. Your face turned towards the sky; watching as the snow twirls and tumbles from the clouds above, gradually blanketing the ground ahead in a pristine carpet of soft white. It crunches as you walk towards the theatre, leaving footsteps on the once-untouched landscape. You take extra caution not to slip on any hidden ice - an injury is the last thing you needed on a day as imperative as this. 

Somewhere in the far distance, the Kremlin bells ring. 

Thirteen mighty chimes thunder throughout the city. You feel the ground rumble in response beneath your feet - a reminder to hurry.

Rushing up the snowy steps of the Bolshoi Ballet Theatre, you quickly let yourself inside in an attempt to escape the chilling temperatures of the Moscovian evening - and to avoid running behind schedule. 

The warm air inside greets you welcomingly. You eagerly pull off your gloves in its presence to soak up the heat it has to offer. Slowly, you begin to regain feeling into your fingers. Sighing a relieved breath, you make your way backstage as the marble floor of the foyer echoes noisily beneath your shoes.

There, you receive a not-so-calm yet begrudgingly familiar greeting. 

Pre-performance is usually like this; congested backstage corridors; a cacophony of frantic demands and directions; boxes of overflowing props and costumes rushed up and down the hall; the deafening pounding of ballerinas breaking in their pointe shoes;  dim lighting making it near impossible to navigate. However today, with your debut as the company’s newly appointed principal dancer just hours away, it feels even more nerve-wrackingly overwhelming. 

You brace yourself as you get swept away in the havoc of opening night, tangled in the rambunctious crowd as it traverses through the labyrinth of backstage passageways.

Despite the absurd amount of people crammed in corridors unable to withstand even a fraction of their current capacity, you miraculously manage to maneuver your way to the dressing room; elbow-to-rib style, ducking under boxes and weaving past those racing in the opposite direction. 

Relief hits you as you swing open the dressing room door, closing it quickly behind you as your eyes blink rapidly to adjust to the bright lighting inside. The much more quieter, yet seemingly livelier chatter of friendly conversation and girlish giggles encompasses you as you move further into the dressing room. You shrug off your coat, laying it to rest on the coathanger and take your seat in front of your dresser.

Tranquility seeps into your bones as you slouch against the chair’s backrest momentarily, soaking up the opportunity of rest no matter how short-lived the moment may be. Mentally, you take the moment to prepare yourself for the evening, and all the chaos and calamity it is sure to bring. 

Sighing, you straighten yourself up in your seat, glancing at your reflection in the mirror as you do so. 

"I didn't know you had a secret admirer.” 

You don’t turn around as the voice chimes up from behind you. You of all people know better than to entertain her playful antics. 

The voice reveals itself from its lurking in the background, resting her chin just above your collarbone and draping her arms over your shoulder. 

Your eyes meet hers in the reflection. She grins back at you.

“Valeria.” You sigh, patting the hand resting around your shoulder. “It’s good to see you.”

Valeria, crowned tonight’s Black Swan, is one of the company’s longer-serving principal dancers and has self-appointed herself as your tutor and friend as of late. Graciously, she has taken you under her wing these past couple of months as you have gradually adjusted to your newly bestowed title, joining her amongst the Bolshoi’s most prestigious ranks. 

“You too,” She smirks, a little too suspiciously for your liking, pecking your cheek in greeting before returning to her seat at her vanity next to you. “You too.”

You begin to rummage through your stage makeup, tilting the mirror toward you so you can better see, before laying out your needed products on the desk space. You pay no mind to her mischievous staring as you do so. But, as you have learned over your time acquainted with Valeria, nothing can deter her from getting what she wants. And right now, that is to find out who this supposed ‘secret admirer’ is.

"So tell us then," She drawls teasingly, "Who's the lucky boy?"

The edge of your desk presses uncomfortably into your side as you turn to give her your attention. For the time being, anyways. You yourself are somewhat curious as to what she is talking about. But the sooner you can resolve this suppositious accusation, the sooner you can resume to the real issue at hand - getting ready for Swan Lake. 

Confusion stirs at her question, and you tilt your head to the side, urging her to explain further.

A ribbon-wrapped gift box is pushed toward you. You watch on, confused. 

Valeria’s legs swing idly back and fro as she gazes at you expectantly. The corners of her lips tug further into a grin at the silence that ensues and at the completely dumbfounded expression on your face. When you give her no answer, her Cheshire-cat-like grin falters. 

The girls around you giggle, peering over from their makeup stations to indulge in the drama unfolding. Valeria shoots them a look from over your shoulder, one you cannot decipher, but it quietens them down. 

“For me?” you ask doubtfully, slightly stumbling over your words as you take the generous gift into your hands. “Oh Valeria, you shouldn’t have-”

“Not from me.” She huffs.

“I don’t understand,” you mumble, eyes scanning over the gift as you look for a label, a note, a letter, anything that may reveal the gifter’s identity. “Who could this be from?”

She shrugs indifferently, turning to focus on her reflection in the mirror, transfixed on getting the edges of her lipstick just right. 

“The girls who were here before me said it came delivered to the dressing rooms earlier this hour-” She smiles at her appearance, appreciating her flawless makeup in the mirror. Placing the lipstick tube down with a quiet thump, she turns to focus her attention on you once more. 

She pokes a finger at you in playful accusation. “-Asking for you specifically!” 

It’s your turn to shrug your shoulders, unable to give her the answer she craves, for what reason, is beyond you.  

She eyes you incredulously, before returning her attention to her mirror seemingly unable to neglect her reflection for just a moment longer.

“Well,” She gestures toward the ribbon-wrapped gift with her free hand, playing an unbothered facade. You know full well she is practically itching to uncover this mystery. “Are you going to open it?”

Your eyes dart between her and the suspicious box, almost expecting this to be some sort of ruse, perhaps she had given you a jack-in-the-box and was waiting for you to get the fright of your life; her idea of fun.

Hesitantly, you begin the unravel the sheer ribbon keeping the box from opening. The fabric rubs soothingly against your fingertips, a luxury fabric you have not had the experience of touching before. It was clear that whoever had purchased this was of a wealthy background.  Perhaps, you think, you could make this into a bow to wear. 

You don’t know what you were expecting when you lifted its lid, but you definitely were not expecting a pair of .

“Aye chingao!” Valeria startles as she leans over your shoulder to get a better look.

Nestled between a blanket of draped deluxe fabric, a pearlescent pink, almost winter-white, pair of the most exquisitely crafted pointe shoes lie. You fail to restrain the exasperated sigh of awe at the sight, carefully grazing your fingertips over its silky satin finish as if the slightest touch could possibly damage them. You can confidently say, they are the most beautiful gift you have ever had the pleasure of receiving. 

“No secret admirer,” she says.” Valeria quirks an eyebrow up at you.

"Don't be ridiculous, it's probably just costuming.” You dismiss her far-fetched conspiracies, though, you find it hard to draw your eyes away from the pair of shoes, and the fact that this had definitely not come from the costume department. So who had sent you these?

"Ha, as if Mr. Baryshev would ever allow the budget given to costuming to be used for anything but lining his own pockets!” She laughs bitterly. 

“I’ve been-” Valeria exhales out a frustrated breath, “-trabajando como un burro to afford the means to get wear this!” She growls, her hands gesturing to the coal-coloured feathered fabric of her intricate bodice and tutu. 

You open your mouth to give her your consolation before a knock comes to the door. You, Valeria, and the rest of the room quieten into hushed murmuring - just for a moment. Then-

“On in 30, Ladies!” A gruff voice hollers from the other side of the door.

The room erupts into chaos.

A tsunami of frantic ballerinas surge forward towards the row of dressers, crashing against each other like the tides of a raging sea you had heard many-medal adorning men recount about in tales of some distant land. The only redeeming thing about conducting post-performance business is the stories and tales you overhear; the rest, you are not so keen on.

You take the distraction in stride, shoving the pair of shoes more like semi-worn in pointe hand-me-downs from costuming somewhere under your vanity, and replacing them with your newly acquired gift.

“You’re going to wear them?!” Valeria hisses incredulously. 

You glance at her sideways, smirking back at the priceless expression of amused disbelief on her face.

“Well, they’re shoes, aren’t they?” You jest, grinning at her mischievously. “It would be a shame not to.”

She shakes her head in mock-dissappointment, haphazardously stuffing her stage makeup in its designated drawer before firmly slamming it shut. 

“I fear my mischief is rubbing off on you too much.” She mumbles as she looks up at you, feigning a tone of dismay, only to be betrayed by the growing smirk on her face. 

“Well,” She smoothes her hands over her slicked-back bun of cropped raven hair, "I'll see you out there." 

You give her your goodbyes as she pats you on the shoulder, rising from her chair and making her way toward the dressing room’s door. 

“Don’t let the Director find out,” Valeria whisper-shouts from over her shoulder. “You know what he’s like.”

She ushers the remaining lingering corps-de-ballet girls out of the changing rooms, winking at you as she closes the door gently behind her. 

You listen as the chatter slowly retreats from beneath the doorframe, Valeria’s distinct, accented laughter mingled with that of fast-paced Russian retreating down the echoey corridor ‘till you could hear it no more. A serene silence hugs the now-semi abandoned dressing room; those, including you, who aren’t to appear until later acts remain, a more pacific atmosphere stirs, with subdued gossiping, softer laughter, and a more slowing-encroaching sense of time.

You slump in your chair. 

You have a long evening ahead of you.

The rear of house is relatively quieter now.

You can no longer hear the lively chatter associated with the pre-performance buzz, only the occasional hushed conversation resurfacing through the suffocating silence as people pass by. Walking backstage is always an awkward feat, your pointe shoes make an unpleasantly loud noise against the cold concrete floor with each precarious step you take. 

You had felt bad for having to break them in; they were an extraordinaryly well-crafted pair of pointé shoes, they fit perfectly too, and you were certain the price tag was even more extravagant. You still hadn’t resolved the identity of the mystery gifter, but you’d make sure to thank them profusely for their kindness. For now, however, you have a debut to make. 

Your feet thump rapidly as you semi-rush toward the entrance to the left wing. The further you near, the more people it seems are gathered in anticipation for their appearances onstage. The conversation is greater here than that of in the deeper bowels of the theatre where the dressing room had been. Mingling herds of ballerinas and dancers lean idle against the walls, stretching in preparation for their scenes, and chatting amongst themselves, but done so in more gentle, lower tones so as not to alert the audience of their presence a mere wall away. 

They regard you with reassuring smiles and words of good luck as you briskly waddle by; you reciprocate them with a short-but-sweet smile. 

The music grows in amplitude as you enter the left wing officially; the once gentle thrumming is replaced with an all-encompassing eruption of expertly strung-together instruments. The welcoming embrace of the song is quickly diminished though, much to your dismay because-

The rafters here have always given you the creeps. With no help from Valeria either, who  divulges in gossip of the ‘ballerina’ who had been ‘crushed to death’ by a poorly-secured light fixture on the theatre’s proscenium arch each time she catches you gazing nervously upwards at the looming space. You know it’s mainly just the technicians who lurk up in the rafters, commandeering light cues and stage transformation sequences as the ballet progresses. 

‘You have nothing to fear’, you admonish yourself. 

Still, that doesn’t stop the hair on the back of your neck from standing up as you approach the left stage-side.

Your presence goes unnoticed for not even a second. 

Someone speaks your name in a hushed whisper.

You peer over your shoulder at the source of the sound; the silhouette of a stout-statured man emerges from the left-wing doorway. He seizes you suddenly by the shoulders before you even have time to recognise the overly-touchy-friendly Mr. Ustrashkin.

You stagger at the sudden force with which he embraces you, regaining your balance with an awkward squeak. It is only then do you see the disconcerted look that his face has taken on.

“Mr Ustrashkin?” You begin hesitantly. “Is something the matter?”

“Walk with me, dear.” He requests, but he has already pulled you into motion with the firm grip of his hand on your shoulder.

The two of you trail off to the side to make way for the group of pas de corps, and for the privacy of what you can only assume to be bad news. The ballerinas smile respectfully at you, lowering their heads slightly as they account for your company before skittering off, their ghostly white tutus fluttering by behind them like swirling snowflakes. 

When the last of the dancers had passed by, Mr. Ustrashkin speaks again. You take the small queue of silence to compose yourself exteriorly for what is to come. 

“Something..." He stalls, theatrically contemplating the correct word to use before resuming. "...unexpected came up within these previous hours. A true shame it is, but Fyodor, your dance partner, has sustained an ankle injury. As you can understand, he will be out of commission for the foreseeable future, and unfortunately is unable to perform with you tonight." 

Your heart sinks. It collapses from your chest cavity like a marionette doll on snapped strings; as its puppet master surveilled with cruel glee from above. You wonder what you had done to anger God, for him to administer such a thing onto you. On today of all days too. 

“Oh, um, I-” You stumble over your words in a tangled array of shock, panic, disbelief and uncertainty.  

“None of that now, little swan.” Mr. Ustrashkin tuts, almost as one would scold a misbehaving child. 

You recoil at the unwanted nickname, but are too overcome with internal panic at the newly arisen situation to pay it much mind. Saying anything anyways will get you in trouble, and you have climbed too far into the good graces of the executives of the company to fall out of favour for something so insignificant. 

You struggle to maintain your composure, hanging on the thread of internal and external unbridled alarm. You bite the inside of your cheek to withhold any curses from escaping your mouth.

‘On all days this could have possibly happened on.’ You mumble to yourself mentally. 

“So, if Fyodor isn’t dancing tonight..” Your eyebrows scrunch up in confusion, eyes trailing from Mr. Ustrashkin and the conversation at hand to the semi-concealed view of the stage. “Who is dancing Prince Siegfried onstage as we speak?”

Swan Lake has been going for around an hour by now, but with your appearance not until the second act, you needn’t be in as much of a rush as those in the first. You had spent that time responsibly; the majority of which was in the dressing room ensuring the costuming was to standard and ogling over the anonymous gift. Much to your displeasure, that also meant you didn’t have the pleasure of seeing everyone off at curtain opening, and you hadn’t been able to catch a glimpse of this ‘Mactavish’ Mr Ustrashkin had been singing his praises about to you. 

"Do not fret that pretty little head," The plump man quips. Mr. Ustrashkin pats your back, presumably in an act of reassurance, but the force which he uses almost sends you stumbling forward. "His understudy, Mactavish, has taken up his role."

“Mactavish?” Your head tilts to the side as the syllables of the foreign-sounding name roll off your tongue with a questioning implication. 

“Oh yes!” He startles with a cheery smile. “A wonderful dancer through and through. We scouted his talent in London and had him transferred from The Royal Ballet to dance for us instead.” He rambles on in recollection. “Though the two of you aren’t properly acquainted yet, I’m sure he’ll be substantial as a dance partner in Fyodor’s absence.”

All you can do is nod your head absentmindedly, hoping to be relieved of his unwanted presence. And, like all men are, his attention is quickly drawn to another. 

A loud laugh barks out from across in the right wing. 

“Valeria!” The now-agitated man growls lowly, his teeth grinding together as he storms toward her as quickly as his little legs can carry him. 

‘So that’s where she went,’ you think, half-bemused, half-concerned. You also thank her in your head for unknowingly getting you out of a conversation you no longer had any interest in being involved in.

Rolling your shoulders to relieve some tension that had been building up, your eyes search diligently for someplace to stretch before your presence on stage is needed. Finding one, you make sure to apply an ample amount of rosin to the bottom of your shoes before skittering your way over. 

The minutes pass by neither quickly nor slowly, more like a muddled mixture of the two. Your body moves without control, years and years of dedicated practice leading up to this much anticipated moment allowing your body to memorize the moves. Your thoughts, however, are the fore-focus of your attention. They rumble through your mind like a blinding blizzard, burying any logical thought with a suffocating, unmoveable barrier of bleak snow and amounting stage fright. 

The Pit Orchestra unleashes Tchaikovsky’s Swan Lake, Op. 20, Act 1: No. 9, Finale Andante’s crescendo upon the awestricken audience as such Zeus would do to the land below Mount. Olympus with his thunderbolts. If you dare a glance, you may manage to see Mr. Lenkov strumming his harp melodically, or his musical protégé he can’t help himself but boast about day in-day out. 

The floor beneath your feet vibrates as the composition reverberates deafeningly throughout the auditorium; you would struggle to believe the crystal chandelier that looms overhead is not swinging violently nor the champagne glasses the aristocrats’ cradle has not shattered at the absurd volume. Though, it could just be the nervous shaking of your legs.

You catch fleeting visions of the dancers on stage; their shadows flickering in and out of view like the dimming flame of candlelight. Your thoughts are once again drawn back to Fyodor’s supposed understudy. Not once had you had a recital with him, and so you could only hope he was adequately practiced for his role. 

The melody of Act 1’s final act concludes with the triumphant trill of the violin ensemble. The audience erupts into an oscillating ovation; cheering, clapping, whistling; at a volume so loud it could rival its predecessor. Your doubts about Mactavish’s adequacy are quickly disproven. 

It only brings a sliver of comfort, however. 

You linger in the shadows for a moment, trembling fingers brushing hesitantly against the fabric before you. Then, cautiously, you peer out from behind the safety of the illustrious velvet curtains. Your jittery hands fiddle with their golden tassels as you gaze at the exceedingly large audience. The auditorium of the theatre had never been so full.

You try not to let the sheer amount of people overwhelm you; a thousand thousand faces staring stagebound.

You fail.

And as the announcer commences the beginning of tonight's performance, you also fail to notice the man watching you from across the other side of the stage.

 “Bolshoi Ballet proudly presents Swan Lake!”

[wings-of-fire-confessions]

i kind of dislike canon designs. i LOVE that they make each tribe different and recognizable, but their designs are just off to me. they could be a lot better, or just different. Joy Ang's art is great, and i aspire to be like her. i do especially enjoy the canon designs of mudwings and skywings. considering skywings are based off "default dragons," they're very well-adapted from it. mudwings are just kind of squishy and cute to me, but they make a lot of sense at the same time. large, beefy animals are usually what i think of in swamp wildlife; making the snout different is also a great idea. anyways, i think one of the reasons i dont like canon designs are simply because the fanon designs i see are so much better. there's so many more creative ideas!! i saw an artist who depicts nightwings as depicting the sky they were born under. another that made skywings colored based on their fire. there's also another artist (one that i actually remember!! deadenddraws) that made popular meals and merchant stands for the tribes. there are SO MANY fanon ideas and i LOVE all of them and they're so much better than canon. i think i don't actually dislike canon. my admiration and love for fanon is simply huge compared to it basically this is a love message to headcanons pls keep making them i love them all

.

[iwamimimimi]

hello, i hope you are doing well :) i really love your art and the little stories behind them. i aspire to be an artist like you but...i know this sounds weird but im scared of drawing+posting it. i suck at anatomy and whenever i try to practice i get discouraged so easily...do you have any advice on keeping the motivation high? i know passion is the key but i can't love something that im not even remotely good at. anyways, keep up the good work!!! <33

[svp3rrn0va]

The Artist & The Muse (NSFW)

Pairing: Sebastian Sallow x f!MC

Summary: MC is an aspiring artist. She talks to her close friend, Sebastian, about her hobby and how she wants to practice painting anatomy. He offers to be her nude model, and MC can't help but admire his body in more ways than one.

Warnings: 18+, aged up characters, explicit sexual content, body worship, foreplay, oral m!rec, unprotected sex, praise kink

Word Count: 4,748

You sigh as you struggle to focus on your book amidst the chatter of your peers around you. Out of anywhere you could've chosen to read, you chose the fountain in the literal epicenter of the castle. Central Hall seemed to be absolutely packed at any point of the day before curfew. It doesn't help that the content you're trying to read is already a bit confusing for you.

To your left, there is a group of friends cheering for a 2nd-year Gryffindor as he walks up the wall. Any moment now, you think to yourself. Just then, as if he'd read your mind, he falls to the floor with a shriek. Thankfully for him, one of his friends cast a charm so he wouldn't hit the hard floor below him.

They all began to laugh really loudly, and that was your last straw. Just as you were about to turn to them and scold them for picking such a crowded area to do something so dangerous, your friend Sebastian Sallow approaches you and sits beside you on the fountain with a smile. You give him a sigh that means "oh, hello."

"What are you reading?" he asks, his head pointing toward your book.

"It's an art book," you reply, closing it and placing it in your lap. "Although I can't get much reading done with all this noise."

Sebastian chuckles. "You're surprised you can't pay attention to your book in Central Hall?" You roll your eyes.

"Also, I didn't know you were into art."

"Yes," you say with a hint of shyness. "I paint, actually."

Sebastian's eyes light up. "You paint? I can't believe you've never told me this before!"

He was right. It was a rather ridiculous notion that you kept something like that from him. You actually kept that from a lot of people. Not because painting is such an embarrassing hobby, but because you're still learning, and you haven't felt ready to show your work to people yet. You've always had a tendency to be hard on yourself.

"Here and there I do; I don't really take it that seriously." That was a lie. Of course you see yourself having a career within the wizarding world, but you would also like to have a career as an artist in the muggle world, perhaps under an alias.

"Even so, I bet you're really good at it. You're good at everything." Sebastian says with a smile.

You scoff. "You're only saying that to be nice."

"No, I mean it! You're the smartest person I know, besides me, of course," he smirks.

You scoff and nudge his arm playfully, and you stand up. "On that note, I'm going to go to my room and read where it's peaceful."

Sebastian quickly stands up as well. "Your room? Your room of requirement? Is that where you paint?" You sigh, and Sebastian acts like a kid in a candy store. "I bet it is! I want to see them."

"You want to see my paintings?" you ask.

"Of course! You can't tell me that you paint and not expect me to want to see them."

You swallow, and you feel your nerves building up. You've never shown anyone outside your family your paintings.

"You're not going to let this go until I show you, will you?" you ask, already knowing his answer. Sebastian shakes his head, and you sigh. "Fine. But don't laugh at me. They aren't great."

"That's subjective. Besides, even if I were to not think they're great, I want to support you regardless. That's what friends are for, anyway." He says softly.

You smile, feeling touched by his words, and it makes you feel more relaxed.

***

You open the door to your room of requirement and Sebastian looks around in amazement. The room is quite large, and you've made yourself a nice, personal space. You've got a large bed, a large desk for your assignments, massive bookshelves filled with books, potting tables, and of course, your painting area with everything you'd need.

"Wow, if this were my room of requirement, I'd never leave," he says, taking a seat on the sofa by the fireplace.

"What's in your room of requirement?" you ask.

"I don't have one. I just spend all my alone time in the Undercroft."

You laugh, not understanding how he could choose a room like that over a room where he could have absolutely anything he wanted. Sebastian turns around on the sofa and looks toward your painting station, his smile dropping when he sees that the only visible canvas is blank.

"I thought you had paintings in here," he said with a hint of disappointment in his voice.

"I do," you say as you walk towards the bed. You open up the chest at the foot of the bed. "They're in here."

Sebastian quickly gets up and walks over to you, peering inside the chest to see three canvases facing down.

"May I?" he asks, looking up at you as he leans down to grab them.

You nod and take a deep breath as he pulls the canvases out of the chest and looks through them.

One is of the Scottish coast, with beautiful cliffs overlooking the sea. The second is a view of the night sky from what appears to be the observation deck in the astronomy tower. The third is your cat lying on your windowsill, looking at sheep passing by in the fields outside.

You chew on your lip as you watch Sebastian's face, trying to decipher from his expression whether he likes the paintings or not. It's a bit hard to tell, and he's silent. You begin to get antsy.

"Well?" you ask impatiently.

"These are-" he begins before once again going quiet as he keeps alternating between the paintings. You groan.

"Do you have to be so dramatic? Please tell me what you think!"

"Oh, I'm sorry," Sebastian says, snapping out of his trance. "I'm just speechless. These are amazing! I can't believe you said they aren't great!"

You raise your eyebrows. "Really? You think so?"

"Of course! I'm not a painter, so I can't use technical terms, but you're very good at blending the gradients in the sky, and the water in this one, just look at the way you did the bubbles on the crashing waves! You're really underestimating yourself."

You can't help but smile, and you look at the floor, blushing. "Thank you, Sebastian. That means a lot."

"You should be proud, really," he says as he gently places the canvases back into the chest. "What art book were you reading, exactly? Judging by these paintings, you shouldn't have much more to learn. You're already great."

"Alright, alright, you're flattering me too much now," you laugh. "It was an anatomy book. I've had enough practice painting landscapes and animals; I don't have enough practice painting humans."

"Well, why not just try doing it instead of trying to learn from a book first?" he asked.

"That's the thing," you say, and you feel your face getting warm. "I could handle painting people with clothes on, but I've always been inspired by art from the Italian Renaissance. I'd like to recreate that style."

"Well? What's wrong with that?"

"A lot of famous paintings from that time depict nude people," you bluntly reply.

"Oh," Sebastian says, clearing his throat. "You want to do a nude painting?"

"I'd like to try and make a painting in that style, yes," you chuckle nervously. "I just would like to get a hang of human anatomy before I even attempt to recreate a Renaissance piece. But asking someone to pose for that is-"

"I'll do it."

You weren't sure if you heard him correctly. "You what?"

"I said I'll do it." He has to be joking, right? But he looks completely serious and doesn't look unsure at all.

"You'll... you'll pose nude for me?" you ask, whispering the last few words as though someone can hear.

"Why not? We're close; I trust you. And I'd be honoured to help you get some practice. Unless you'd prefer to paint a female body."

"No, no, it doesn't matter to me. But are you sure?"

"I wouldn't have mentioned it if I wasn't," he shrugs.

You stand there and sigh, still surprised by Sebastian's sudden offer. Despite his offering, you don't want to put him in an awkward situation, but it also saves you from any future awkward situations of finding someone to pose nude for you.

"If you're comfortable with it, then alright. We've got time before class, so we could do a bit now, if you'd like." You say.

"I don't mind," he says, looking around the room. "Where would you like me to be?"

"You can be on the bed so you're on a soft surface." You grab your easel and blank canvas along with a chair, and you move them both across from the bed. "And I will be here."

Sebastian nods, and you make your way back to the table to gather all of your brushes and paints to use for the canvas. You grab your mug, and with a quick cast of Aguamenti, you've got a full water mug ready for you to clean your brushes.

When you turn around and catch sight of Sebastian, you nearly drop everything in your hands when you see he's already fully naked, standing by the bed.

"Are you alright?" he asks, chuckling.

"Sorry," Your face was burning hot at this point. You clear your throat. "I just didn't expect you to get undressed so quickly."

"I didn't mean to shock you," he says, looking at the bed. "How would you like me to pose?"

"Erm," you hesitate as you try your best to keep your eyes on his and not focus on his lower region. "You can lay on your side with your hand resting on your head, one leg propped up? That way I can see... erm... everything."

Sebastian nods and climbs onto the bed, getting into the pose you asked him to. You place all your paints and brushes in front of you, trying to ignore the blood in your cheeks and your heartbeat. You've seen a man naked before, but you've known Sebastian for a long time and had never been intimate with him, so you weren't sure how to feel.

"How's this?" he asks. You look to the bed, and he's laying in the correct pose, although his leg was tilted a bit downward, so you couldn't see his privates well.

"That's alright, but if you lift your leg up a bit more, then it's perfect."

He listens. He lifts up his leg so his knee's pointed directly towards the ceiling, and you see it. Your breath stops for a few seconds.

It's quite... big. Thick, but not too thick. It's more long than thick. You quickly peel your eyes away to not make him think you're staring. You begin to paint his head, and you notice your hand is shaking. You shut your eyes and clear your throat again to try to clear your thoughts.

"Are you comfortable like that?" you ask, trying to make conversation and feel more relaxed.

"I am," he responds casually. "This room is amazing. It conjured up a much cozier bed than what we've got in all the dorms!"

"I know," you reply. "I actually don't sleep in it much, though."

"Well, you should," he says. "I reckon you'd be the most well-rested person in the castle!" He moves his arm and head a lot as he speaks, making you struggle.

"Try not to move too much," you instruct him. He nods, quietly apologising.

You begin painting his lips, and you try to focus on his face, but it's very difficult. Your eyes have a mind of their own, and they keep trailing down to his length. You swallow hard as the light from the fireplace allows you to clearly see, even from that distance, the veins along it.

Sebastian seems to be unaware of your attention as he looks around the room while you paint.

It's no secret that Sebastian is a very attractive man. You and many other girls in the castle can agree on that. However, the fact that he feels comfortable enough with his body to agree to do this for you somehow makes him much more attractive to you.

You admittedly feel a bit entranced by him in this moment. You've never felt this way for him, so it's a surprise. In fact, you're so entranced that you almost didn't notice the heat from your cheeks sinking to your lower region as well.

No. No, now is not the time for this, you think to yourself. As you feel the heat turning into a slight throb, you clench your thighs together, trying to get the feeling to go away. You somehow manage to finish his head and hair, and it looks good.

As you begin to paint his torso, that's when you notice how toned he is, and how his freckles aren't just on his face. You begin to sweat, and the throbbing you feel doesn't get any better. You feel it even more this time. You gently take your hand and place it in between your thighs, closing them around it.

You shift in your seat and Sebastian turns his attention towards you.

"Are you alright?" he asks, his eyebrow raised.

You struggle to find words, and you quickly nod your head as you chew nervously on your bottom lip.

Sebastian begins to eye you as you insist on keeping your attention on your canvas. He sees your hand between your thighs and your fingers digging into the skin of one of them. When he looks up at your face, he can see how red your cheeks are and how aggressively you're chewing your lip.

"No really, are you alright? You seem flustered-"

"I'm fine, Sebastian," you snap. Unbeknownst to you, Sebastian knows better. He can tell by the way you can't sit still. He can tell by the way you're clawing at your skin. He can tell by the red of your cheeks. You're turned on, and he knows it. He just chooses to play coy.

You begin to paint his beautifully broad shoulders. Merlin, these intrusive thoughts. Get out of here! You almost don't want to look at him again, but you have to. As you take another look at Sebastian, your eyes quickly dart down to his length once again, and that's when you notice it.

He's getting hard.

You immediately stand up and start putting everything away.

"I'm sorry, this wasn't really a good idea. I really appreciate you offering to help, though," you say, almost too quick for him to understand.

"What? What's wrong?" Sebastian asks, getting out of his pose and sitting upright.

"This just feels too wrong. I didn't want there to be tension, I thought this would just be-"

"Tension?" he asks again, looking down to notice the obvious tension as well. "Oh shit."

You put away the easel and chair and begin to nervously pace.

"Again I appreciate you doing this for me but I'll just look for another model. Just put your clothes back on and we can act like this didn't happen, alright? I'll see you in class." You try to rush out of the room when you feel Sebastian grab your wrist.

You turn around in surprise as you didn't even notice him get up from the bed and walk towards you in your frantic state. You look down at all his glory once again before meeting his gaze.

"There's nothing wrong with it if you like what you see, you know," he says, his voice lowered. Your breathing speeds up.

"I-I don't know what- what you mean," you stammer.

"I've known you for a while," he smirks. "You've never been discreet, and you certainly aren't now."

He keeps his eyes fixed on you, and you can't pull yours away.

"Tell me what's on your mind." He licks his lips and you can practically hear your heartbeat in your ears.

"Y- your body," you say so quietly it's almost a whisper.

"What about it?" he asks softly.

"It's so beautiful."

"Beautiful in an artistic way? Like you want to paint it?" he asks, his eyebrows raised. You can tell that he is trying to get more out of you.

You hesitate and lick your lips before answering. "Yes, but, not just paint it."

"What else?" he whispers, and you can't help but whimper slightly at his voice.

"I want to touch it," your eyes begin to trail down his body again. "And kiss it..."

Sebastian, still holding onto your wrist, gently brings your hand up to his chest. You shiver as you touch his skin and he slides your hand down his torso.

"You mean like this?" He asks. You nod.

"And you want to kiss it?" He asks again. You nod again.

He chuckles and he interlocks his fingers with yours. He takes his other hand and places it behind your neck, pulling you in and crashing his lips to yours. As soon as your lips touch, you feel all of your nerves go away. All you want is him.

You run your hand through his hair and moan into his mouth. He smiles against your lips and waits for you to open your mouth just a little before he adds his tongue.

You pull away from the kiss with a gentle bite of his lower lip. He looks at you with nothing but lust in his eyes. Then you lean in and kiss his jawline, down to his neck.

A soft "mmm" comes from Sebastian and you smile as your kisses travel lower down to his collarbone all the way to his bellybutton.

"You have no idea how long I've wanted this," Sebastian growls.

You're on your knees at this point, and you look up at him with a look of surprise at his words. You had no idea Sebastian felt that way about you, but you weren't complaining.

"I think I have an idea," you reply, eyeing his erection in front of you.

"May I?" You repeat his question from earlier as you guide your hand towards his cock, glancing at him for permission. He nods and you place your hand on it, swirling your thumb around his shaft.

Sebastian hisses and you smile, before leaning forward and licking his tip as you begin to pump his dick with your hand.

"Oh god," he groans, throwing his head back. "That's perfect." He grabs onto your hair as you start bobbing up and down on his cock, pumping the rest with your hand.

You aren't quiet either. You make sure to slurp and gag as you take his length as far back into your throat as you can. He obviously loves it, too, as his legs shake and he moans with each gag.

"God damn, is there anything you're not good at?" Sebastian asks as his voice cracks, an indication to you that he may not last much longer.

You begin to massage his balls and he tugs harder on your hair. As you suck him off, you gradually use more tongue, and you can just feel his veins against your tongue from how prominent they are, and you love it.

"You're gonna make me cum," he whimpers. "Do you want to swallow it?"

"Mm-hmm," you reply, not taking your mouth off him. Anxious for his release, you begin to pick up the pace, just as he begins to thrust himself into your mouth. At this point your pussy is throbbing like crazy, and you take your hand from his balls to try to rub yourself through your underwear. Unfortunately, the hem of your pants are too tight.

"Oh that feels so good," he moans, and with one final thrust, you feel his cock twitch and he releases his load into your throat.

You giggle with satisfaction as the warm liquid fills your mouth. Once he pulls away, you swallow as if you've just had a nice, refreshing glass of water.

"Come here," Sebastian says as he takes your wrist again and pulls you to your feet, pulling you into another passionate kiss. You two begin to walk backwards while you kiss, not paying much attention to where you're going.

Next thing you know you collide with your painting table, and you press your hand onto something wet. You turn around and begin to laugh as you notice your hand landed directly on your painting palette.

"Oh, I'm sorry," says Sebastian, laughing as well.

"That's alright." You place your paint covered hand on his cheek and kiss him again, his eyes widening.

"Hey!" He exclaims against your mouth. You pull away and giggle once again as you see a handprint on the side of his face. Then an idea comes into your head.

Sebastian watches in confusion as you put both hands on the painting palette. You turn around, biting your lip as you slide your hands down his body, covering him in paint.

"What is this?" he grins.

"You're my art project," you laugh. "And I just want to keep touching you."

"It's my turn to touch you now," he growls. He begins to undo your pants, and you arch your back off the table so it's easier for him to pull them down.

He removes your pants and to your surprise, you've gotten so wet, you can see it through your underwear.

"And you tried to be discreet," he says with a smirk. "Tsk tsk tsk."

He slides one finger along your cloth covered slit and you gasp. You prop one leg up on the chair beside you to give him better access.

"Oh, we're eager, aren't we?" he whispers right next to your ear. You shiver. "You're soaking wet."

He presses his finger up against your clit through your underwear, almost to tease you. You whimper in desperation, and he grins again as he begins to rub. "What's wrong? You want me to touch you directly?"

You nod. "Please," you whisper. "Please touch my pussy."

With a bite of his lip, he hooks one finger through the hem of your underwear and slides it down towards your knees.

"Just look at that pussy," he says, admiring you. "I can't imagine what you've got under the rest of those clothes."

He begins to rub circles on your clit and you place one hand behind his neck to stabilise yourself. His fingers are cold, and it feels so good against your pussy that you shudder.

Sebastian leans in to kiss you again. He then drags his lower lip along your ear and places a gentle kiss on it. "So fucking good," he says. "So talented, you are. So smart, too, and so fucking beautiful." He rubs your clit even faster and your head falls onto his shoulder.

"Even better at sucking my cock, and I know you'll be great at taking it in that beautiful pussy of yours, too." His words are sending you closer to the edge. "I bet you're so fucking tight."

"Sebastian," you choke out. "Don't stop." You begin to grind your hips against his finger and he chuckles.

"Yes, grind those hips. You're making me hard all over again." You watch as his cock begins to grow once again, already prepared for you. You moan at the sight, and your desperation to feel it inside of you makes you finish.

Your legs shake wildly and you fall back against the table as you cum. Sebastian slows his rubbing, and he sighs in satisfaction as he watches your delicious juices drip from your pussy lips as you finish your release. Once you're done, he licks his finger as if he's licking chocolate frosting off of it.

"So sweet," he smirks.

You're getting impatient now, and without a word you begin to strip your blouse off, and Sebastian watches you with complete lust in his eyes. As you begin to take off your corset, you struggle a bit and he helps you.

He undoes the last button and your corset falls to the floor. You turn around to face him and his jaw drops. He gently places his hands on your waist, and caresses up and down your torso. Sebastian moans softly as he runs his hands over your breasts, spreading his middle and index fingers apart as he passes by your nipples.

"And you said my body was beautiful," he gawks. "Look at you. Just fucking exquisite. You should paint yourself. This is real art."

His sweet words drive you crazy and you crash your lips against his once again. He kisses you back with somehow even more passion this time. He's got paint all over him now, but you absolutely love it. You jump up and wrap your legs around his waist.

He wraps his arms around you, getting paint on you now as well, but you don't care. Sebastian takes you to the bed and drops you on it. He grabs each of your ankles and pulls you towards him as he remains standing.

"I wish you could see yourself from this view," he says.

"Well I'm satisfied with mine, as well," you reply.

He lets go of one of your ankles to position himself at your slit, and you begin to drop your leg. He quickly grabs it again and lifts it back up. "Keep your legs up," he instructs.

You begin to say "alright", but you're cut off by your own moan as he pushes himself into you. Since he isn't too thick, he's able to slide into you quite easily, but he's just the right girth that it feels fucking amazing.

"Your pussy feels incredible," he sighs, as he begins to softly thrust in and out of you.

You watch his face, and you admire how gorgeous his expressions are. The way he shuts his eyes, and raises his brows, and slightly opens his mouth. You wish you could see him like this all the time.

"You can go faster," you tell him. And just like that, he thrusts faster and harder. You both moan in unison and his grip on your ankles tightens. "Fuck, Sebastian, that feels so good."

"God, I- I can't," he breathes as he lets go of your ankles and collapses on top of you, not hurting you, and he continues his thrusting. You wrap your legs around his waist again.

Sebastian rests his head in the crook of your neck, and places his hand on your other cheek. "You're fucking perfect," he says.

You lift his head up so his eyes meet yours and you kiss him, this time it being a romantic, tender kiss. You press your legs tighter on his waist, pushing him closer to you so his cock hits you even deeper.

Sebastian's cock is hitting your g-spot just right, and you can feel your orgasm approaching quickly. You begin to rub your clit just as you feel Sebastian's thrusts slowing down just a hair, and you know he's getting close, too.

"I'm close," he whispers. "Do you want me to cum inside you?"

You think for a moment, and you nod your head.

You tug on his hair and you begin to kiss his neck. He moans and that little sound makes you fall apart. Your legs close around him tightly and as your walls begin to clench on his cock, he loses it. He groans, and right when you expect him to shoot his load inside of you, he quickly pulls out and cums all over your stomach.

He chuckles, and you look up at him with a look of both confusion and disappointment.

"Now you're my art project," he laughs, and you can't help but roll your eyes.

Sebastian falls back onto the bed next to you. "Look at us," he says. "We're a mess."

"I can always conjure up a bathtub," you reply. "By the way, you're not going to be my nude model again."

Sebastian sits up with a frown. "Why not?"

"Are you joking? I'll never get any practice done with you! You've distracted me!"

"You say that like it was a bad distraction." he chuckles.

You can't help but laugh, too, because it's true. You look up at him with a smirk. "You do make a good canvas, though."

[reineydraws]

Hey Reiney! i've been following your Renkaza comic for some time now and it's kind of gotten me into the ship. Would you happen to have any fic recs to get me started?

im so honoured my comic got u into the ship! (@sshcomic for those who don't know! 🫶) i love giving out fic recs omg thank u so much for asking!!!! i have 15 for ya haha.

i'll have specific recs under the cut, but first i wanna just say that anything by emilieee @e-milieeee ; dragonsandcryptids @lesbiansanemi ; and tippertupper are great places to start! they're amazing writers with a good body of work and i've definitely gone through a lot--if not all--of their renkaza stuff! please check them out!

word count is rounded to nearest thousand btw! :) smoke and mirrors + demon's choice are big inspirations for my comic, if ur coming from there!

i've also realized these can be pretty lengthy so if u want recs with shorter word counts just lmk and i'll comb through my bookmarks for <15k. but anyways!

Smoke and Mirrors by emilieee (272k)

canon happens in modern times au, where akaza ends up as kyo's apartment neighbour, tho kyo doesn't initially realize akaza's a demon. it's emotional! it's plotty! akaza mentions kokushibo made all the kizuki's fake id's and i still think that's hilarious! it's got one of my fave enemies to besties akaza & shinobu plots ever! please read this!!!

last sunrise by DragonsAndCryptids (182k)

akaza turns kyojuro by accident bc he bleeds too much into kyo's open wounds during the mugen train fight, and neither notice until it's too late. shinobu notices too and decides perhaps that this might be a prime research opportunity... uh-oh! the ethical quandries are good in this, and shinobu while flawed is very well-written. renkaza also end up with a soul bond. another emotional one but god is the journey amazing. tw for some torture scenes that could be graphic.

Small Fire of Winter Stars by phabulousphantom (66k)

modern au where akaza is a tattoo artist and kyo runs a teens program at the local community centre. it's one of my faves bc i just love stories about jaded people opening up and finding love and trust again, and this is exactly that. i also love the ensemble cast in it. the teenagers are adorable, especially inosuke who is a problem kid that finds something aspirational with akaza. thinking abt this fic is making me smile again!

Camp Kasugai by si1verbird77 (20k)

also modern au where renkaza are both counselors at a summer camp. kyo runs a percy jackson program, and he and akaza fall in love over the summer with the help of the deep trust that camp atmospheres usually end up fostering. kyo and sen, and akaza as well, also touch on the grief of losing parents, and the nature of camps as a place to grow into yourself and how time keeps moving. it's nice. i love this one a lot.

Inertia (series) by TipperTupper (23k)

akaza saves kyo from freezing to death, and kyo marvels at the compassion and humanity that akaza seems to hold in his muscle memory. ends up digging a little bit into akaza's trauma both as a human and as a demon controlled by muzan. sanemi gets a little mad about it in the third part and it's funny. overall vibe of the series is warm.

The Neverending Night by apodis (155k - incomplete)

when i say this fic rotates in my brain 24/7!!! akaza gets stuck in a time loop that resets every time kyo dies. it explores akaza's nature as someone who is willing to sacrifice everything for loved ones, and it's interesting bc at first kyo hates him, and then he starts to realize there's something wrong with akaza's memories bc of muzan, and he starts to really see how self-effacing akaza is. it's SO good, and the realizations both kyo and you as the reader have build and layer as the story progresses. akaza and kaname (kyo's crow) also build a friendship that is so important to me.

Demon's Choice by Celeste Gladnick (lairMorbidon) (69k - incomplete)

akaza defects early and joins tamayo, and so many more people are alive as a result. kyo in this one is interesting bc he's bigoted against demons thanks to his upbringing in a slayer family under abusive shinjuro, and refuses to see that akaza is anything other than dangerous, despite literally everyone else sticking up for him. extra fun bc he crushes on butterfly assistant hakuji without realizing that it's akaza in a human guise. akaza himself also has some deeply held trauma he doesnt quite realize he has.

what i wouldn't give by DragonsAndCryptids (59k)

senjuro becomes terminally ill and his end is fast-approaching. akaza, who's been bothering kyo on and off for two years since mugen train, hears about it and offers to help by turning sen into a demon. at first, kyo gives a hard no, but as his baby brother's illness progresses... well, anyone would get a little desperate, wouldn't they? love this bc one of my fave things abt renkaza is pushing kyo to his moral and ethical limit lol.

if you fly (say you won’t come back) by apodis (10k)

siren au! well, akaza's a siren, and kyo is the caretaker of a house that sees many different travelers. akaza's just the latest one. i love this one bc it's fantastical elements are wonderful, and it builds a very interesting world. as the reader, you have a lot of questions and it's an experience getting them answered. it's also prettily written. :)

Little Fighter Boy Comes Marching Home by VTheTrashKing (19k)

akaza gets de-aged by a demon's blood art, and kyo comes upon a little human boy with black hair and blue eyes, a chip on his shoulder and a very implicitly sad past, what with the criminal markings on his wrists and the way he insists he can take care of himself. another one of my fave renkaza things and kyo getting bowled over by hakuji's tragic story so i loved the way he puzzles it together in this one based on the little boy in front of him, and just finds one sad thing after another.

“Don’t die, Kyojuro” by Lenasaurous (24k)

akaza lets kyo live and often tells him not to die. kyo, who's life is often visited by death considering his occupation, begins to rely on akaza's immortality as a demon, and depend on his company as a constant--that is, until akaza passes out from not eating, and stays down for the count. uh-oh. (i also love this fic 'cuz there's this scene where akaza tries so hard to make kyo like him by giving him herbs and helpful plants, even tho kyo doesn't really want him around at that point, and it's so sweet and so sad. i wanna give him a hug!!!)

Memories behind broken glass by GammaRays (58k - incomplete)

this is the akaza whump fic of my dreams lol he gets captured and experimented on by shinobu (and it can be grisly so tw for that). kyo lured him into a trap to get him captured and ends up standing guard and starting to question his morals when it becomes clear that shinobu is being intentionally cruel. as the torture experiments go on, akaza also becomes so delirious that he begins to remember his human past. kyo loses it a little. it's good.

All the things a cup can hold by Liatheus (9k)

akaza takes shinjuro demon hunting lol. this is actually more of a shinjuro character study with side renkaza, but i love it specifically for a scene near the end where they all have tea, and ruka's empty place at the table feels obvious, and kyo and shinjuro are sort of crying about it. i also love that it explores the way shinjuro used to be a hashira, and how akaza investigates his strength in that sense. shinjuro's strength is an important aspect to kyojuro that doesn't often get delved into, and it makes sense to me that akaza sort of looks into it, as someone who loves kyo's strength.

Hello Again (the weight of memories welcome me home) by VTheTrashKing (15k)

this one's more artsy than anything but i love sci-fi as a genre so i'm reccing it lol i'm being self-indulgent. for whatever reason, throughout his life, akaza gets visited by various hashira. it's all very timey-wimey and the renkaza is more implied than anything, but there's this scene where akaza's being held trial at a hashira meeting, and then a future sanemi and future giyuu come out of nowhere to protect him and shock the living daylights out of their past selves, and it's so wild. i love it so much.

the milk incident by lattelesbean (4k)

this is just funny haha! short and fun read. modern soyama twins au where akaza's a café barista and accidentally puts his foot in his mouth in a very embarrassing way, bc he was too busy thirsting over kyo, his latest customer, to double-check what was about to come out of his mouth lol. i am still laughing.

[masked-tornado]

All about Allen Alagona

Overview:

Basics

Allen's backstory

Allen's personality

Allen's relationships

Allen's relationship with Deuce

Allen & blot

Allen's previous life

Allen's magic

Fun facts

OFFICIAL ALLEN X DEUCE POSTS:

1 // 2 // 3

1. Basics

Allen is a Ramshackle freshman who comes from another world (¾ Italian, ¼ Japanese) and "has no magic".

He's an aspiring illustrator and musician who doesn't seem to have success no matter how hard he tries. Whenever he attempted to gain attention on the internet before, all he ever received was ignorance and hate. Nowadays, he's too scared to try again.

2. Allen's backstory

Allen is an intersex boy and was born with lower testosterone levels as well as a mostly "female" outward anatomy.

Having suffered from a genetic anxiety disorder since his childhood, Allen was never really able to enjoy things. Once he got into school, he was mostly used for his good grades and ignored otherwise.

However, things got much worse when puberty started: Allen's body was feminine and muscular at the same time, and he towered over his classmates. His resting bitch face didn't help with people finding him intimidating and scary... and soon, he was not only ignored, but actively avoided and made fun of. He got pushed around, insulted, and told that "a freak like him" could never be loved. Nobody invited him to hang out, people pretended to have crushes on him in order to fool him, and all the "friends" he ever had badmouthed him behind his back.

Allen couldn't tell anyone about how hurt he was — boys weren't supposed to cry and act all whiny, and he would prove that he was indeed a boy by being all tough.

Trying to escape from the bullying at school, Allen put all of his feelings into art instead — a thing he was told he was "gifted" at — and started sharing it on social media. However, as he watched other artists blow up and build entire fanbases, absolutely nothing happened to him; he was either ignored or insulted for his art, seemingly never being good enough to earn compliments. Combined with the fact that Allen compared himself with other artists a lot, he slowly started losing confidence in the one thing he enjoyed and thought he was skilled at.

That wasn't the only thing Allen "wasn't good enough" for. As he got older, the topics at school progressively got harder, and the model student started struggling with them a little. His grades dropped from As to As and Bs, and that was somehow already enough for his teachers to blame him. "What's wrong?", "I expected better from you" and "stop slacking" were just some of the things Allen had to hear from them. He began studying even more in an attempt to satisfy them and prove his worth to himself, but nothing seemed to work out, and instead, it all led to Allen having a burnout.

At this point, Allen started believing that he was possessed. How could one single person have so much bad luck and be hated this much solely for trying to live his life...?

...and why was he even trying when he was never good enough for anyone anyway?

It was then that Allen decided to give up on everything. His grades never satisfied his teachers no matter how well he did, so why should he work for them at all? His gentle personality was never appreciated, so why should he be kind? Fights hurt him, so why shouldn't he fight back?

Allen slowly became a delinquent. He started skipping class almost every day, finally dared to cuss, and got into lots of verbal fights with the people who formerly bullied him. Those who already feared Allen before were now absolutely terrified of him, and soon, rumors about an actual possession started spreading.

The headmaster couldn't stand watching the process of one of her most valuable honor students turning into a delinquent and eventually kicked Allen out of school for his shenanigans.

Allen knew he wouldn't attend a school ever again due to what it had done to his health, but at the same time, he was in desperate need of that graduation if he ever wanted to have a proper job. He tried to blackmail the headmaster into giving him his graduation by threatening to expose the school for how they covered bullying and even allowed teachers to be bullies, but ultimately, Allen got nothing out of it.

He had nothing but his parents now. He had no friends, no confidence, no future. He was likely possessed, doomed by the universe.

Allen lost the sparkle in his eye; he wanted nothing more than to disappear. But the thought of his parents' grief forced him to stay alive. Every day was torture and reminded Allen of how much of a failure he was, and he progressively grew angrier...

...until he started imagining himself in music videos every time he listened to songs.

That was when Allen had an idea. He couldn't be violent, so why not channel all of his hatred and wrath into lyrics and make his own music? This time, he wouldn't post anything online in a long time, instead taking things slow.

Things slowly got a little better — Allen was able to start a hormone therapy, dyed his hair, changed his overall appearance, disassociated himself from his old self, and learned to control his anger through writing and other methods he figured out for himself. However, the emptiness, anxiety and hopelessness remained, and Allen was stuck with depression.

Just the day when Allen wanted to finally buy a software to produce music with, he woke up in a coffin in a strange world...

3. Allen's personality

Allen is widely known to be friendly, lowkey, mature, calm and helpful. People admire him for his good looks and determination, and some even consider him to be perfect due to the fact that he is additionally "good at everything". He also avoids fights and more heated discussions and instead serves as a mediator most of the time, earning him a fair amount of respect at NRC.

Allen has an easy time getting along with people and, while he rarely engages in deep conversations, generally enjoys talking and spending time with others, even if he's not close to them.

The truth: this is a mask.

Allen is an extremely flawed person but skilled at hiding it. He doesn't do anything he's bad at in public, only voices reasonable opinions, uses white lies in order to not accidentally hurt people, and hides all of his mental struggles as much as possible.

Not only does the real Allen envy everyone who is in some way more successful or "better" at something than him, but he has also developed a superiority complex to cope with his insecurities. He even feels this way towards some of his friends, yet doesn't dare to speak up on it out of fear of ending up all alone again.

The real Allen writes aggressive songs, has violent thoughts, and hates himself with a burning passion. His trauma and insecurities always get the better of him, and Allen still believes that he's ugly, worthless and not deserving of love despite being one of the most popular people at NRC.

The real Allen also doesn't care about the problems of people and gets impatient extremely quickly (Deuce is an exception — Allen cares about him a lot and is patient with him — as well as other people who have genuinely earned Allen's trust). His primary motivation for helping with bigger issues around the school is to draw attention to himself and finally receive praise.

Allen's biggest fear is to be lonely, abandoned and ignored, which is why he does his best to hide all of his flaws and true opinions on people — he doesn't want to risk being disliked now that he's finally appreciated somewhere.

The only person who knows the real Allen (and who he is 100% honest to) is Deuce, who doesn't judge him at all and instead understands him.

4. Allen's relationships

5. Allen's relationship with Deuce

Ever since day one, they've been best friends who always know what the other is thinking/feeling and do almost everything together.

Having the same experiences in a mirrored way, Allen and Deuce are able to understand each other better than anyone else could and naturally help each other because of it. Allen is able to assist Deuce with studying while making sure that he doesn't overwork himself and provides him with healthy outlets for his delinquent tendencies, which helps Deuce mature and grow calmer. Instead of trying to change Deuce, Allen helps him see the good in his flaws and use them to Deuce's advantage while fully supporting his goals and making sure that Deuce doesn't lose himself. Deuce, on the other hand, simply loves and admires Allen the way he is, which helps Allen slowly accept himself more. Being around someone who's so similar to himself and genuinely supports, understands and adores him also manages to fill the void in Allen's heart at least a bit.

Due to Allen's tough vibes, determined personality, intelligence and pretty appearance, Deuce fell for him extremely quickly (it was basically love at first sight for him). Allen fell for Deuce during book 4 when he realized just how much he missed the boy. After hesitating with a confession for a long time due to how it could possibly affect their friendship, Allen and Deuce eventually start dating some time after book 7.

Before I go on an eternal ramble about these two, here are some posts from my Deuce x Allen blog explaining their relationship further:

How they help each other

Why I ship them

Relationship timeline

Facts about them

6. Allen & blot

Allen feels his body get weaker and is somewhat out of touch with it in Twisted Wonderland. At first, he isn't aware of what the reason might be, but things resolve themselves... in the worst way possible.

During every breakdown occuring after these symptoms, a part of Allen's body changes. At first, he merely cries black tears, but then his hair turns another color, followed by another body part every time... until Allen is fully convinced that his demon is slowly taking over.

These occurrences are, in fact, mini overblots building up to Allen's first proper overblot, in which he assumes the form of a demon prince with fire-based magic and massive claws.

Due to his overall physical and mental weakness as well as the fact that he's not from Twisted Wonderland, blot affects Allen extremely easily and in a different way than with mages.

But why can he accumulate blot if he's not a mage himself? Well...

7. Allen's previous life

Unbeknownst to everyone, Allen is the reincarnation of Asterope, an infamous mage from Twisted Wonderland.

Asterope was an exceptional mage said to have been blessed who had weather-based powers but couldn't fully control them due to his impulsive personality. As a result, he accidentally slaughtered a village through a tornado in a fit of rage caused by being excluded and bullied, and became a wanted criminal as a result. He ran away, assumed the identity of "Alan" and joined the Silver Owls, only to be caught when he found out about his sole friend's death and accidentally caused another tornado. Asterope then got executed, and to this day, he's known as nothing but a villain.

Nobody is aware that Allen is Asterope's reincarnation and supposed to fix his legacy until Allen dies after being stabbed during a friend's overblot. A storm is raging outside the school during the entirety of Allen being in a critical state and eventually dying. While his body is already dead, Allen's mind intensely relives the moments from both his current life and the one he had as Asterope. Ironically, his strong blot accumulation and Asterope's desire for wanting his legacy to be fixed through his "successor" eventually bring Allen back to life, leaving him with mere permanent tattoos... and the ability to use magic.

Shortly before Allen awakens, Asterope speaks through him, talking about his legacy. Later on, Allen and his friends do their best to figure out what exactly happened.

8. Allen's magic

Allen has fairly little control over his everyday magic due to both his mood swings and the fact that he's entirely new to this kind of thing. However, he is eager to learn and improve so he can hopefully reach an average skill level.

On the other hand, Allen's Unique Magic is incredibly powerful and can only be countered by the strongest of mages when they're concentrated. "The Calm Before the Storm" traps a being in a tornado that drains them of all their physical and mental energy, often causing the person in question to pass out. It can be used on living creatures from all worlds.

Fun fact: Allen discovers his Unique Magic before he can use normal magic at all.

9. Fun facts

Allen is three days older than Ace.

Allen is good with animals and children.

Allen's natural hair color is black.

Allen is considered to be one of the prettiest people at NRC, but isn't aware of this.

Allen collects plushies and Deuce gifts them to him regularly.

Allen loves Shiba Inus.

Allen likes motorcycles and blastcycles.

Allen is an only child.

Allen loves his parents but is distant from the rest of his family.

Allen has photographic memory.

Allen eats instant noodles a lot.

Allen can't cook, but is willing to learn how to cook egg dishes for Deuce.

Allen doesn't have a lot of stamina.

Allen has problems falling asleep.

Allen is generally bad at sports, but can run fastly and dance very well. He does, however, suck at ballroom dance.

Allen is often called a twink, and he's very curvy for a skinny guy.

Allen has long eyelashes.

Allen received chest surgery during book 5 and now has scars.

Allen prefers coffee over tea.

Allen dislikes pastries.

[dailytomlinson]

Mexico City recap

Louis showed up wearing a Burberry mesh shirt

Setlist had 20 songs (Louis skipped Chemical)

“Fucking hell Mexico City, there is a lot of you here tonight!”

“I’ve just spent the first 3 songs just trying to come down, man. This is fucking incredible, look at what we’ve fucking created, I love you all, I love you all. Combination of emotional and fucking shitting it up here!”

“Fuck these creepy crawlies!”

Louis during the SIBWAC rainbow project: “It's better with the lights off! Not yours, these [the stage ones]”

“That shit with the lights was fucking incredible, thank you for that, I'll never, ever forget that, thank you.”

“I’ve been thinking over the last couple of days, let me get sentimental a second right, truthfully, I never grew up wanting to be a singer. I mean, course, I always wanted to be one, never in a million years did I think I was gonna get, nevermind here, just any stage. What’s really resonated over the last couple of days is: I say this a lot but I can sing the songs I wanna sing. If I feel like being a little moody and I wanna sit on the mic stand and stand here the whole time, you guys’ll have it. You guys are on board. When I was younger and you look for people to aspire to, people kind of gallivant across the stage doing all sorts of mad shit, and that’s not me. So I never saw myself doing this job– can’t call it a job, but you know what I’m saying. It’s nights like tonight that not am I just thankful for being on this massive stage– that goes without saying right, thank you, thank you thank you– but to have the luxury to be who I wanna be, to sing what I wanna sing, not every artist has that luxury, so I thank you from the bottom of my fucking heart that I have that fucking luxury, so thank you. A bit motivational speaker, isn’t it!”

“Can't keep the smirk off me face, I love youse!”

“Right, I’m getting sentimental again, listen up. I don’t do this a lot, but thank you to my fucking incredible band man, thank you, thank you, thank you. I obviously came up with One Direction, some of you like them, yeah, me too! I was used to having people around me, I was used to having people share this experience with. I’m getting croaky, can you hear me? So yeah, it’s been a pleasure to tour with these boys, I definitely could not do this without them, so thank you. Give it up for my incredible band please. Now onto you fucking wonderful people, you don’t need to hear this but I’m saying it anyway, I’m an honest guy. I’ve been a bit croaky today, so I came out, I were a bit nervous, a bit worried about the whole thing. You guys are fucking out of this world, honestly. I’m trying to come down to earth but I’m in awe, I'm in awe of this, I fucking love you, thank you. I wish I had more words– well I do! But right now it's just getting the better of me, so before I start breaking down into tears, thank you, thank you, thank you. I fucking love youse. With me Northern articulation there, okay!”

“I wanted one last chat, I do not want this show to end. I just wanna say a little moment, a little message to everyone, not just everyone here tonight, not just everyone who’s watching the stream. Every single person who has ever, ever supported me, in any fucking way, online, whatever it may be. I don’t care if you’re not here tonight, I don’t care you’ve never been to the tour ever, if you support me, I fucking love you. So thank you, thank you, thank you. I am in awe of tonight, I will dream of tonight, this has been a fucking incredible night, thank you.”

“[sings] I know nobody understands— Great lyric! [sings] me like you do!”

Closing: Silver Tongues

[lunarcrown]

can we see all of your tattoos? :0

I FINALLY TOOK PICS!!!! I actually don’t have a TON of tattoos compared to my peers but I have a nice chunk! I’m just slow at getting tattooed bc I’m always working so I get like MAYBE two a year 😂

ANYWAYS!!! Ok so my legs: butterfly, demon goat girl, caterpillar, bill cipher (a SUPER OLD ONE), Minecraft block, and blue three eyed cat are all by me on me HAHA

I’ve made myself quit tattooing myself so I can get OTHER people’s art on me, but I wanted to tattoo my own shins just in case it was too terrible to continue with someone else (it’s not actually that bad!!!), and the other things like the Minecraft block were just so I could have complete control of it when it meant so much to me. The three eyed cat is actually my first “official” tattoo on skin I did as an apprentice! (Bill was a sneaky stick and poke I did in college OTL)

Creeper is from a friend/fellow tattoo artist who I trade tattoos with a bunch (but we still pay each other bc BILLS…), party dragon was from a dragon tattoo trade, worm on a string was from a friend who’s apprenticeship started same time as mine, pink axolotl is from my coworker who is sooooo freakin cool….i aspire to be like her so much…. And anime eyes heart gal is from a super cool friend that I went to college with! We reunited when I started tattooing and got a lot of laughs on how long it took to get our degrees and now we aren’t even “using” them HAHSG

Rest of the ones on my legs!!

Mob is from the same buddy that did the creeper and another one you’ll see in a sec, the kitties are from ANOTHER pal who started apprenticing same time as me! They’re actually arranged to be a subtle ⚢ sign bc IM A HOMOSEXUALLLLL~~ the symbol beneath these is the ol symbol from gravity falls that I ALSO stick and poked in college YEP…. Love Bug and the firefly are by a buddy from Virginia! One day I’m gonna get a “mean” version of love bug on my other thigh and it’s gonna say “bug off” 🤩 and the colorful leopard is from ANOTHER buddy trade that I did with a very cool friend!!

And finally MY ARMS!!!!

I have even less up here because getting arm tattoos makes it hard to work pfft….

I LOVE canti from OG FLCL (I love robots with sick designs so much…) and I love the show as well (introducing me to the Pillows was so PIVOTAL…) so I have him not once but TWICE form different ppl. The one with the flowers was from my mentor who turned out to be a sucky person so BOOO but I still love the tattoo~ the claptrap and OTHER canti are from a neat guy that I LOOOVE his style but his shop is sooo traditional and it’s lowkey uncomfortable even though he’s nice so idk if I’ll go back for a third. The Grievous is from the same buddy that did the creeper and mob!!! It’s so cool too bc my freckles make HIM have freckles and it’s adorable to me. And finally my VERY first tattoo I ever got, the big ufo abducting a pumpkin!!

This was done by Kelly McGrath in North Carolina and she was so sosososo sweet, gave me free prints, let me video call some of it to my family because we were VERY very far away from each other, AND I got to tell her years and years later that she inspired me so much that I became a tattoo artist myself!! And I even got to ask her a question or two and she responded so nice :,,)

SO YEAH I don’t have much rhyme or reason to my picks besides preferring color tattoos to be the majority, but my goal now is to collect tattoos from some very cool people and take my time filling up my body with art!! Eventually I would like to extend to my hands (palms included) and feet (JUST THE TOP I AM NOT DOING MY SOLES), neck, body, and maybe a few on my face near the outer perimeter/outer corner of eyes/above eyebrows! But that’ll probably be way off bc I work a LOT like I said at the beginning! Always the tattooer, never the tattooed HAHA

[genericpuff]

omg can i just say i love your work so much!! it’s so fun to read this i’m over the moon

anyways, i’m aiming to get an art degree! i’m so inspired by your work. is this just a hobby or is it a job? i’d love to make art my full time job when i’m older, tho it’s not known for being very sustainable. how do you make it work??

ALSO your expressions, the anatomy, the faces, the colors, all of it!!! i aspire to draw like you one day!!!!

thank youuu!!

also whoof as for advice... well, for starters, it depends on what specifically you're wanting to pursue. Is it a specialized diploma / degree in a specific trade like animation/illustration/graphic design? Or is it more like a university BA? I ask this not because one is better than the other, more so because different schooling is tailored to different aspects of the overall "arts" industry and whatever you're currently studying (or planning on studying) is gonna be up to you and what you're planning on doing, whether it's being a freelancer or going into a specific industry! (or doing a mix of both!)

So all that said, take my advice with mountains of salt!!! What worked (and didn't work) for me may not apply to you! But I hope in sharing my own experience that it might resonate with you or at least give you an experience to relate to in your present and future endeavors :>

For full transparency though (and this will be a bit of a personal anecdote so bear with me): I am absolutely 100% not making a living off Rekindled, more so that it's just a side thing that I do that's supplemented by my actual job, which is tattooing. So by definition, Rekindled is a hobby! (and one that I very much enjoy doing and keeping as a hobby!)

But tattooing is also pretty rough right now, when I'm making money the money is great, but when I'm not, it feels like the same grind that every artist is on, trying desperately to get people to notice me and buy my work haha

I wish I could say that there's a moment where it all just "clicks" and everything falls into place, but it's more like... you just learn to take the good with the bad, and most importantly, you learn how to prepare for the bad so it's a little less bad the second and third and tenth time around. I know that sounds super bleak, but that's just the cycle of life in general - things aren't always good, we just do what we can to work through the bad times so we can find those good times and come out stronger each and every time.

I'm currently in one of those bad times, and I have been pretty much this entire year. The slow season that I thought would end around March... didn't. So with the slow season now turning into a slow year, it finally happened - a couple months ago, I picked up a retail job. It sucked to have to do because I quit retail YEARS ago in the hopes that I'd never have to return to it and that tattooing would always provide for me, but life has changed since then.

Despite this, I am in a very unique and privileged situation where I can "afford" to have slow seasons at work, but I'm also like... well aware that that can't last forever so I'm doing what I can now to slow the decay until it hopefully picks up again. I'm doing what I can, but ultimately, I know a lot of the circumstances of the past year have been due to the state of the world in general, which is far outside of my control. So I do what I can within my control instead, and that eventually included having to go back to retail.

Thankfully the retail job I work is great and I get to work with really cool people, so it's not all bad! But it definitely felt bad in the beginning because of the internalized shame I had towards going back to retail. Almost felt like I was proving to everyone else - especially within the tattoo industry - that I wasn't "cut out" for it.

But now that I'm doing it... I know that that's not true, and I frankly don't care what opinions people could have about it, because at the end of the day, the economy is shit right now and we all gotta do what we gotta do to survive. And having those couple shifts a week in retail means I can continue to keep doing what I do through both tattooing and making comics, because now I have more income coming in. And that is, overall, a good thing :)

Working retail to help make ends meet doesn't make me any less of an artist. It's just that making a living at this is difficult and isn't guaranteed to be a "happily ever after" type thing where you just "find a job" and the rest sorts itself out later. This is also something that applies to any field / career in general, life happens and things can change a LOT so on the one hand, that can be a hopeful blessing because it means you never have to be stuck where you are right now, you CAN keep moving forward towards the things that you're hoping for; but also, it can suck ass because it means even when the going is good, it's never forever.

When it comes to the art world specifically... regardless of whether or not the going's good, the important thing is to keep creating and keep moving forward.

Buuuut I guess if I had any real advice to offer beyond waxing poetic about my personal experiences, especially to those seeking an art degree - learn the business side too. Because in reality, there's a lot more to doing art as your job than just drawing. In fact, I would say that once you start doing art as your job, the actual creating is often forced to take a backseat to the things you have to do to make your art profitable in the first place - like marketing/networking, attending art markets, collaborating with other artists, running an online shop, building a clientele, etc.

So if you have the opportunity to do a class or two in marketing or event coordinating or anything under the umbrella of "business" that could supplement your art degree, please consider it! The art world is competitive, but that doesn't mean you can't give yourself a competitive edge by arming yourself with skills that others may not consider; and I do find a lot of people entering these fields tend to just completely forget or overlook the fact that doing art as a job means turning it into a business, which means you're gonna have to sharpen the business-adjacent skill sets alongside your art.

And I say this from experience, I SUCK at doing the business side of things because a lot of it I'm either really bored by or really bad at. Marketing myself on social media feels like an exercise in futility. Filing my taxes is torture. But those are still skills that are often necessary that I'm pushing myself to get better at - it's just often really hard to learn it through trial and error so taking classes would have probably helped me out a lot LMAO

It can be boring and it's not art, but it's still worth learning. Learn how to apply to art markets, learn how to file taxes as a self-employed individual, learn how to create a CV and portfolio for the industry you're interested in, learn how to decipher your metrics and statistics, learn how to offer quality customer service. These are all things that are, again, extremely worth learning, but also often overlooked when we think of "making a living off art", especially when it comes to freelancing.

That's pretty much the extent of the advice I can offer, at least in terms of the broad subject matter of "getting an art degree" and "making a living at art". I'm ironically sorta the worst person to ask when it comes to that, though, because there are times - like right now - when I'm very much not making that living! And it's requiring that I change my game plan so that I can continue to live - it doesn't mean I've given up on my art, it just means that right now my art can't pay my bills so I have to find another way to get by until they can again.

And of course, it cannot be understated that the circumstances in which I exist are different from yours. It's kinda like asking a Youtuber "how to get famous on Youtube", because the circumstances that made a Youtuber famous will vary widely from other Youtubers. For some people it was years of hard work and slowly building up an audience, others may have been an overnight sensation, and for anyone the ability to make videos on Youtube at all is dependent on what else is going on in their lives that allows them the time and energy and resources to do so. Sure, we kinda know what the end result "looks like", but how you get to that point is largely influenced by other factors and can't be summarized in some "how to" video beyond the general advice of "here's how to make a video for Youtube" "here's how to make an appealing thumbnail" and "here's how to engage with your community". Many of those famous Youtubers are following the exact same formulas as the smaller Youtubers, they just had other factors influencing their career path that got them to fame first / faster / etc.

I can create Rekindled the way I do now because I have a decade of experience already creating multi-panel comics with longform storytelling on a deadline, but someone who's just starting out in webcomics probably wouldn't be able to do exactly what I'm doing; just like how I can't ever perfectly replicate the look and vibe of Rachel's original work, because her work exists through the experiences and circumstances of her life which I could never copy because they're unique from my own.

When I am making good money again, it will still be influenced by other factors - some within my control, some purely circumstantial - that are unique to me that can't be summed up for the benefit of other artists.

If I were to hypothetically write you a guide on "how to make a living at art" based purely on my own life experiences, it would go something like:

Step 1: Spend your whole childhood drawing weeb anime art and writing Legend of Zelda fanfiction

Step 2: Get a diploma in 2D Animation from a for-profit school that puts you $25k in the hole

Step 3: Work at Starbucks for half a decade and then on your days off work on a really long comic series that you plan to spend the rest of your life making

Step 4: Get hired to do a tattoo apprenticeship with a shitty mentor who treats you like shit

Step 5: Work a bunch of other retail jobs while trying to survive your apprenticeship and then eventually find a job in a basement shop that happens to have a spare bed

Step 6: Survive COVID on savings, root beer, and that really long comic series that you're still working on but isn't getting read by more than 10 people

Step 7: Get really obsessed with an online webtoon that you love; then get really mad about it when that online webtoon turns to shit which motivates you to create an entire blog just to talk shit about it and make a fan comic rewrite about it

Step 8: Get a really cool readerbase from that fan comic through the pre-existing community of shit-talkers that you joined who now ask you questions like "how to make a living at art" which you're not even sure how to answer because you don't know if what you do can even be called a "living"

Step 9: ???

Step 10: Profit ?? Sometimes??

Yeah, not very helpful to literally anyone but myself (and not even myself because if past me was asking present me this question, they'd probably be very confused by my answer LOL)

That was a lot of words, but I hope at least a few of them help arm you with the confidence to pursue your goals!! A lot of it might also sound scary, but remember that the path is long and the scary times don't last forever. That path will often take turns you couldn't have anticipated, but that's okay! Ride along with it and see where it takes you - there's always joy to be found in this line of work so long as you keep moving forward and keep your eyes open for it <3

[orkbutch]

i am a butch now but i don’t know whether that’s true or not anymore. i want to take T, but at what point am i actually just a trans man? have you question that line in the sand at all yet?

Oh boy.

I can only talk from my perspective on this, others may differ, and thats because "whats the difference between a butch on T and a trans man" is such a new sociological concept that its basically in the very beginnings of its infancy. its SO new, and neither Butch nor Trans Man nor Trans Masc have secure, well established roots as social identities or concepts. It may seem like they do and it may seem like there are rules or lines that are firm, but when you step back, zoom out, and consider them in the context of broader society (and especially compared to the idea of a Man and Woman), they do not. These are social contructs that are actually very early in their construction, and we are doing the constructing like, right now, within this ask.

That said, I can tell you why I don't identify as a trans man fairly easily: I don't care about men or the idea of a man. "Man" as a static concept is like... I don't know what that is. Its almost alien to me.

Now, to ramble that point out:

I have considered if I'm a man throughout my life. The closest I've been to identifying as a man was when I was in a period in my life when I considered that there was at least an aspect of me that was drawn to Manhood. Also, as I came to be read as a man in my public life, i supposed that in social situations when I was being treated as a man and I didn't correct people because I didn't care to, and I even enjoyed it somewhat and leaned into that role, I was essentially Being a Man (socially). So Man came to be a role I found myself in occasionally, and Manhood came to be a vaguely defined something that was intriguing to me.

But these moments of Man Feeling ended up being more like exceptions that proved the rule. Anyone can feel a bit like a man in the right circumstance, because gender isn't static; its something we can and often do play with, and phase through. I feel like music puts me in some heavily gendered spaces, like Everyone has a part of them thats a woman when they're belting along to "I'm Every Woman", yknow. Anyway.

I didn't feel like a man that much. I didn't feel like a woman that much either. I felt like a butch more frequently, because when I do things that indulged my masculinity, when I'm consumed by my love and attraction to femininity, when I think about the queers that I admire most, I felt butch, and was drawn to butches and interesting queer women. Leslie Feinberg, Frida Kahlo, Nancy Grossman, Patricia Highsmith, leather dykes and femme pro-doms, transgender queens... I've just never been that drawn to the experience of being a man. I've never been interested in men, frankly. Every man I've admired has been very much despite being men. Sufjan Stevens, Clive Barker, David Lynch, David Cronenberg, John Waters... great and usually queer artists whose gender is irrelevant because I like their work. The only man in that list who I have some personal affection for is Sufjan Stevens. He is an angel.

If I'm going to be a gender, its going to be the gender I admire. That I aspire to. I don't aspire to any man. Perhaps I aspire to a kind of body or a kind of masculinity, and sometimes men do that, but thats just a lack of other non-man representations of the thing I like. When I see in butches, it feels like a depiction of Me. Also WOW do I So Not feel like a man when I'm with my lovers. Sometimes I feel a bit like a man when I'm in a certain headspace while domming or if I'm having the rare T4T(masc) dalliance, but I feel very dyky when I'm with femmes. I just don't FEEL manhood. And I don't really care for man. Edit: I will say, there is a kind of Queer Man Masculinity that I definitely admire and aspire to, like that depicted by Tom of Finland or various other usually kinky gay art. But again, I don't see the Man part as important - its the masculinity. Btw, imo, there is no line in the sand as far as transition stuff. I'm very dysphoric about my body and that's never been about how I'm seen by others; it's my comfort in my own skin, and doesn't change my indifference to men or manhood. and that is my butch vs trans man ramble