#Guess who got ..art block or just tired and can’t draw much

[zipora666]

I know I said welcome home but-..I add some fandoms they be happy to be with it!

my happy energetic girls!!!✨💖🧡❤️

Pinkie pie Mabel and Julie just fitting so well! My fav girls!!!

[apex-academy]

Chapter 6: The Decay of Our Lives (#6)

The rest of the day is basic survival activities and a look around campus to check for any newly opened doors. Not hard to do quickly when the locked ones have enough wood nailed across them to start a good bonfire.

Can’t decide if this is better or worse. There could be useful things in those rooms, or at least something new to focus on, but...

...It’s also a break in the routine. The young master can’t keep opening up a new floor after every murder when there are only so many floors, but they could have at least unlocked one of these, right? Opening doors one by one would see us through a couple more rounds. And by then there wouldn’t be enough people left to keep the game going.

So it has to end eventually. Does keeping those doors locked mean the time is near? Or is there just too much of a threat to the young master behind them?

“Be great to be hopeful, but...”

Any which way, this can’t go on much longer.

I wrap up by heading to the main hall, just in case the front door is miraculously unlocked and we simply hadn’t checked, but I hear sloshing before I turn the corner.

“Hmm?”

I don’t smell blood—though there’s some smell I can’t identify immediately—so I slowly poke my head out from the other side of the wall. Ahead, at the mountainous mural that first greeted us here...

With something a little too low to be called a shriek, Kanagi slams a gush of black paint into the wall. It’s too thick to spread far, but it still reaches out to block a swath of actual painting with its spidery, globby fingers.

Her only companion at the moment scoffs.

“You call THAT ‘destruction’? PATHETIC!”

With a near-matching jug in his own grasp—can he even lift that with his toothpick arms?—Ichiriki flings a thinner layer of white paint across the wall like a fast-moving, dripping cloud.

“Yeaaaahhhhh!!”

“Dare I ask.”

Despite what is apparently just the beginning of the chaos, Ichiriki manages to notice me.

“Oh GREAT, one of the STICKS-in-the-mud.”

“Thanks.”

“Oh, Kakumi!”

“You wanna come, like, distaste some property or whatever?”

“I TOLD you, we ONLY have the two of these, imbecile!”

“There’s, like, this thing called ‘taking turns’?”

“That is paint, isn’t it? Did you get back into the Art Room somehow?”

“Of COURSE we didn’t. These are from MY study hall, thank you very much.”

“But that isn’t chalk...” Yeah, genius observation. Good job.

“WHAT, you’ve never heard of PRIMING a canvas? UN-believable!”

No response would satisfy him, anyway, so I don’t bother. Apparently he doesn’t always draw straight onto the pavement? Not that I remotely care. 

“Exactly what are you trying to make with two colors, anyway?”

“Yo, there’s plenty you can do with two colors! Penguins, and soccer balls, and boxer dogs, and those, like...”

“...”

“...capyzebra dudes!”

“Ca...”

“That CLEARLY wasn’t even the QUESTION, you toad.”

“Yeah, yeah.”

“You here to complain ‘r wreck some crap?”

“YES!”

They turn back to the mural—or what’s left of it—to resume slinging paint. I back up before any spatter can get me. Or, well, I think some already got me, but black won’t show on this dress.

I’m not sure at this point who’s trying to create or destroy or whatever combination of the two, but that’s art for you, I guess. May the old mural rest in pieces. 

Wonder how much Apex Academy paid for that. Maybe a student did it instead? Though with the students in this place, that’d only make it worth more. Well, no telling now.

“Yo, you want a shot at it, dude?” She offers me her half-empty jug.

“Think I’m good... Didn’t exactly bring a good smock with me.”

“Boooo.”

“Oh, the COWARD can do whatever she WANTS!”

“But I am SICK and TIRED of this thing! GOOD! RIDDANCE!”

And there’s nothing left for me to do but stand and watch from a safe distance. The paint smell grows and stark spatters cross and drip and splash back, swallowing up piece by piece the first thing I ever saw inside this building.

“.........”

Good riddance, huh? I’d rather get out of the building than get rid of it, but... Can’t say it’s unsatisfying to watch.

On that note, I drift back to check the door, but...

...Same as always.

“...”

Not like I had high hopes, anyway.

Though speaking of high, I might need to head out before the paint fumes get any worse.

Just as I turn around...

“Wh-what’s going on here...?!”

Monochap rounds the corner in a hurry.

“What’s going on is THIS!”

She spins on her foot, paint container braced in both hands like she’s ready to launch it at him.

Uh, she isn’t, right?

“Eep!”

She slings the paint out, and I swear I see the liquid reaching its little fingers out towards him in slow motion. Is this enough to count as attacking him? I can’t see it doing real damage, but maybe all it takes is upsetting him with a big stain on his dress?

“Ka—!”

But slow motion or no, there’s nothing I can try to throw between them. Can’t sprint there in time, either. All I can do is watch...

...as Kanagi turns just enough for the paint not to hit, instead skirting past Monochap’s headwear to splash onto the floor.

“......”

What she lacks in self-control she makes up for with motor control, I guess.

“Wh-what was that for...?!”

“Just for fun, dude!”

Not fun for me! “P... Please don’t try that again.”

“Seriously! What a WASTE! I DON’T have more of these, REMEMBER?”

“Oh, like there’s anything wrong with splatting the floor instead. It’s, like, same diff.”

Ichiriki rolls his eyes hard enough to pull something and turns back to the wall. Monochap, meanwhile, shifts from foot to foot near the floor splatter like he’s spotted a mouse and doesn’t know which way he wants to run from it.

“Were you just making the rounds, or is there a problem?”

“They haven’t hit any cameras, for the record.”

“Oh, um...”

“It just seemed like something fun was happening, ehe...”

“I, um, never get invited to these things, s-so...”

“Yeah, there’s totally a reason for that, dude.”

“B-but! You’re using my colors and everything...!”

“Black and white don’t BELONG to you! You WORTHLESS heap of dainty FREAK!”

“W-wah...”

“Please leave before he can rant about it more.”

“Um, I guess... Okay...”

He looks from us to the wall, then slumps and scuttles away.

“All right, back to business.”

“Uhhh, I’m outta paint. Ich?”

“GET your OWN!”

“Like, yeah, that’s what I’m trying to do?”

I’ve seen enough squabbling for one day, so I leave them to it. Let’s go back to my room instead, where I’ll be able to breathe.

I reach for the handle.

“I’m still shaking a little...”

“......”

Even if we’re closer to the end, we’re still not safe. Even if no more of us turn against each other, we still have to worry about him. And after our last attempts to fight back, and all the punishments he’s dealt...

...That’s quite a lot to worry about.

But I won’t get much sleep if I focus on that. Best to unwind as much as I can tonight. We can go back to saving the world or whatever tomorrow.

Hopefully.

[BACK] [NEXT]

[a-v-j]

They freaking found me

Ok, so remember how i basically moved out from my old house about 3 months ago? I just wish to be forgotten but noooooo.

One ugly face i hoped to not see again till the day of their funeral, showed in front of my doorstep this morning. I DONT KNOW HOW, but FUUUUUUU

They gonna keep showing up now, threat me again with bullshit and demand some money that barely last ME a month, since they know where i am.

I need to accumulate about $500 to move again, the other rents here are more expensive than the one i currently live in

So people please commission me. I know i know i still got a list and is slow with it but i cant stand the idea of them coming back to harass me again, as if the slander they tell about me to my old neighborhood wasnt enough, all while playing victim. URGHHHHhhhh.

I really hate disclosing my real life issue but i really dont have money to do something about it and i don't want to be in debt to rl friends 'cause they are also broke

Update: we're still short on the goal but I guess a good news is that I figured out how i got found. Some snitch from the old neighborhood saw me and tattled like GOSH that's none of their business, man! Im trying to settle some business with them and im trying not to be violent, gotta keep my private life unsullied

Anyways, been on the process of finding a new home from the listing but so far not enough funds yet.

Update: i, uh, landed myself a job and training starts in about a week from now. We'll see where this will take me

Commission details can be found here

Paypal here

For support, my Patreon here(you'll get a glamrock bonnie sticker!)

Pasting rules here for everybody to see(for my page only. I could only pin one post but i have to paste my rules because there are followers who doesn't know these rules)

RULES FOR NEW COMERS

Most especially if it’s a newly-made account and/or empty blogs or obviously recently filled with with likes from my work to not look empty

*Don’t ask me for requests or free drawings, i only do that for my friends(or announced events)

*Make good first impression(dont just compliment me that won’t work)(whether if it’s dm or ask), otherwise you’ll be labeled as troll alt acc and will be blocked after 3 violations(no notices, no warning). Automatic block for those who intentionally violate rules

*Know my work first before trying to befriend me(genuine interest in my work=genuine interest in me)

*Know im not always nice but will try to keep things friendly as much as possible

*It’s ok to make a mistake, but don’t make the same mistake twice

*Take note i occasionally make 18+ skeleton materials so when you happen to bump into one and it’s totally not your cup of tea, know that it’s on you for not reading this pinned post

*I’m very keen in details, so better get names right if you want me to have a good impression on you

*Don’t do “what’s everyone’s reaction to this” “what do you think of my oc” in my Ask box. Ask one to two characters only because like you, i get tired drawing too. Unless the question including multiple characters of mine is answerable with words then ok

*Note that i answer asks in three ways; with words only(occasional old art for visuals), drawings(static or animated) or not answering at all. So in such case i dont answer immediately with words, then your ask might be answered with a drawing(or with a gif if it’s taking longer, no promises) or has been ignored due to technical difficulties that i don’t want to answer it.

*Do not submit to me your oc that isnt even related to my characters, im not gonna be some advertisement ad to showcase your stuff in my blog even if that’s not your intention and im not an art teacher who you be submitting your art to. Im sorry, i just can’t give any genuine opinion on things i didnt make or not interested in(it requires me to think harder than i should and I don’t want that) but im not saying your art is bad or anything

*Jesus, one ask from one person at a time. If curiosity gets the best of ya, compile it in one ask. Youre giving me quite a workout, kid

*If you get blocked, im sorry, but you didnt read the rules

*Do not ask me for my favorite things because my head usually doesnt keep record of what they are, I would try answer my friends of course

*When sending an ask addressed to a character, make sure they are residents of Avjverse. See the full list here**. Asking a character i don't have will result in a block under the belief youre just deliberately doing it on purpose to spite me. So read for your own sake

**note: not everyone in this list are available for Asks

*auto-block for empty ass blogs with default avatar picture for profile pic cuz ur sus. I suggest putting content in your blogs first other wise dont follow me

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[logically-asexual]

Where's my fucking teenage dream?

summary:

High School AU. Logan is a stereotypical nerd with controlling parents who won't let him catch a break. Roman and the other jocks are mean bullies that won't leave him alone. An unexpected solution comes to him: asking the scariest guys in the school for help.

warnings: underage drinking and smoking, mentions of bullying.

Read on AO3

Chapter 5

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words: 1,451

As far as Logan’s parents were concerned, he met with his book club Fridays after school, while the version for the teachers at school was that they met during Logan’s free periods, giving the other members a chance to skip class every once in a while. Logan was worried that having two different versions could mean that his parents could find out he was lying from a teacher, but eventually he realized his parents were less invested in what actually happened at his school (other than his grades) than what he expected. 

Today, they were at Remus’ house. Logan sat near Virgil working on an essay, while Janus and Remus played ping pong on the other side of the game room. 

“Hey,” Logan turned to Virgil, “you did well in English Literature, right?” 

“Uh,” he sat up, “I guess.”

“Does this make sense?” He handed Virgil the laptop, to let him read his analysis. 

He had just begun reading when the ball suddenly landed on the keyboard, accompanied by Janus’ distressed cry for losing a point. 

“You should block that shit with your face instead,” Virgil said playfully, and handed Janus the ball back when he had walked close enough. 

Janus replied with a grimace, then stopped to look at Logan’s computer on Virgil’s lap. 

“You’re taking Mrs. Lane's class?” 

“Yes,” Logan replied, “I’m stuck with this poem we read a few days ago.”

“I think this is fine,” Virgil said, giving Logan his laptop back. “Maybe she’ll like it if you’re more specific and use a few more examples.”

“That’s easy to say. The poem is ten verses long, how much longer could I possibly talk about it?” Logan was beyond frustrated at this point, literature was never his forte. 

“Which one is it?” Janus asked, sitting down. “Does it have any birds?” 

Virgil held back a laugh. “She really was crazy about them, wasn’t she?”

“Oh, for sure.” Janus turned to Logan. “One time, Virge hadn’t prepared for a presentation we had to give and–”

“No, shut up.”

“– when his turn came he stood there in front of the class and improvised about the beauty with which birds could symbolize life and death for half an hour until Mrs. Lane had to make him sit back down because his ‘uniquely marvelous’ analysis had brought her to tears.”

Logan could see Virgil’s face was turning slightly red at the memory. 

“You and I should have worked together in that class more often,” Janus concluded, “but I’m not sure the poor lady could have handled so much power.”

Virgil laughed softly and shook his head. “I can’t believe you remember that.”

“Please, it was great. I’m sure no one who was there will forget it.” 

Logan frowned. “I prepare for those presentations for days, and even so it’s still never enough. How do you do it?”

“I don’t know…” Virgil replied, “You just… think of a vague idea of anything you got from the text and then you look for evidence to support it.” 

Logan nodded. Normally he thought things the other way around: looking at the data he had and drawing conclusions from it, the opposite seemed unnatural to him. Arts and Humanities were confusing like that. 

“Are you nerds done talking about school?” Remus yelled from where he was standing near the ping pong table. “Because I’m getting bored over here!”

“Oh, my apologies,” Janus yelled back, “I thought you had enough of my magnificence and became tired of losing every match.”

“What are you talking about? I’ve won all of them!”

Janus raised a hand to rest on his chest with an offended gasp. “Are you calling me a liar?”

“No, I’m calling you a loser and a coward.”

“Fine, bring it on then.” He stood up, rolling his eyes. 

“Wait,” Remus said as Janus got ready to serve. “Since there are four of us now we can play in pairs.”

“Oh you’re right. Virgil, come here you’re on my team.”

“I don’t kn–”

“Unless you’re a chicken.” Remus taunted Virgil, and began imitating chicken noises and moving his elbows up and down as if his arms were wings. 

Logan didn’t know what kind of peer pressure this was, but it seemed to work, and before he knew it the four of them had gone through all possible distributions of teams and lost count of the games they played. 

He was pretty sure, though, that the loser of every game was whichever team he was in. Normally, being such a failure at any activity would send Logan into an anxiety attack, and he felt himself begin hyperventilating a couple of times. Despite that, the constant bickering between the other three, with insults directed in all directions never pointing the blame only to him, and the fun they all seemed to have whenever one of them screwed up kept him stable. 

Later, he almost felt like he was woken up from a dream when his parents called to say they were there to pick him up. 

Logan climbed into the backseat of the car, mentally preparing to answer whatever questions they would ask. 

“Good afternoon, Logan,” said his father, before starting the car.

“Hello.”

“How was your meeting?” His mother asked. “Was it productive?”

“It was. I finished writing my essay and got an idea to improve it.”

“Oh, that’s great, but does that mean it’s not done yet?”

“It is done, but I will include more concrete examples that we thought of by exchanging opinions.”

“So you’re having trouble with making it more concrete? Hold on,” Logan’s mother began searching for something on her phone, “I think I still have the number of a friend who works at the Faculty of Philosophy and Literature, we can arrange a meeting for him to help you.”

“I don’t think that’s nece–”

“He can give you some extra guidance!”

"It's fine, mom, don't wo–"

“We need to see your grades for that class improve if you want your average to increase, and this way is surely more efficient than wasting time with–”

“No, I’m learning a lot, I promise.” Logan never liked interrupting his parents, but he didn’t like the direction this conversation was headed. “Talking to my classmates made me see new strategies to tackle literary analysis that are different from what I knew!”

“Couldn't your professor have helped you with that? Because if they’re not helpful I can have a talk with them about it.”

Logan inhaled deeply, trying to calm himself. “No, it’s fine. My assignments are getting better.”

As soon as he got home, Logan would add as many details as he could to the arguments in his essay; there wouldn’t be a word in that poem left unstudied. He needed to impress the teacher, because he didn’t want to think what the consequences would be if he got anything under 95% again. 

“If you say so, dear.” His mother put the phone back down. “We’re just worried that you could get a bad example from other kids who don’t care about their future as much as you do.”

Logan stayed quiet, staring at his shoes.

“We’re concerned about their influence on you. It’s not like you to get grades like these. We don't… want you to get lazy.” 

He bit his lip, feeling a knot form in his stomach. “They’re not lazy.”

“Oh, no, I didn’t say that they were. I know some kids have more… patience when working on their studies, but the semester will end soon and you need to keep your perfect marks. I know literature presents unique challenges, but as a student you have to learn to overcome them.”

“I know.”

“If you ever need any help just let us know, okay?” 

“I will.” 

Logan only wanted to get home, the words “lazy” and “failure” repeating like a scratched record in his mind. He tried to breathe deeply and to remind himself of Remus’ advice. 

The rest of the trip home was in silence.

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[madfantasy]

I haven't seen you post in a while, I hope you've been doing okay? How is everything? Hope it's been a good year so far for you 💕💕

You're too kind, u & everyone who made inquiries, bless ur hearts.. im sorry for disappearing, but yeah, I don't have net— using my phone credit and hope this posts..

I tried to record my voice answering this, like I sometimes did on tik, suddenly ended up trying to muffle the floods of my burning tears, so now I have an awkward vid of me talking then weeping out of nowhere, which a good reason for me to keep up the no cry habit, heh.. but seriously, I suppose I'm fine till I be conscious of it.. its much easier for not to talk .. even tho I'm aching to be back in thy company, lonely in my foresight to catch on to the present that joins us, hand held out to reach like minded souls but shying from the fear of forgetfulness occurring..

I'm fine tho, did few new stuff, merely drowning in too muchness and nothingness as usual, this month I guess you could say I took an act of mad fury in search of any happy source because the echoing silence and the swarm of sadness nipping on my brain cells thickened, and the reasoning merged with the obscene. So instead of giving my guardians the usual of 3/4 of my earnings last month for net and groceries, I spent it all. Ya know, as it was told to me it mine to do as I please? As being prevented any chance of work if it was possible, 't was supposed to be spent on art supplies & measly delights craved for years ?

Before hand, I've been begging them to take me for months to get any clothing or whatever, be it the first time I ever see a shop, then just to drive around, then just me peaking to the outside when the front door is open, merely seeking change I suppose. They kept vaguely promising me until they refused point blank— getting tired of my nagging, then their car just stopped working till this day. Its in the workshop rn..

Anyway, befouled by despair, needing the mere basics of life and not granted, I was delighted when i found a site to buy from cheap & pretty, I pressed buy without any further considerations, or taking their permission and thrilled to be able get gifts for my siblings too. I say gifts but really they are deprived necessities too and not even much just one each cuz well, they are 5 of my babies and to start with the top of priorities; we all draw

I could already see it, they can't help themselves; heck seeped through the clenched gates of their mouths, trying desperately to poison me with undirect attempts this time, cuz I bought for my sibs they're out of the option of calling me selfish. I was upping the same trance like state of vague existence dealing with them, absorbing their insults and degrading just to make sure my shi arrives safe.

Unfortunate for me, the site chose the worst carrier in this country

I did everything in my power to make it into their convenience, by embarrassingly messaging the carrier daily, they took a week of promising to deliver and flanking so my guardians reached a heated level of threatening, waving their hands nd almost tossing shi at mE saying that they don't care if they came and if i dared to order something again they'll do this and that. Not allowing me to open the door for the delivery guy when he comes, blaming me for missing vaccination dates (they kept missing them even before)& missing going to important places(again, they just didn't go to for ages), made them loose sleep, etc etc— in turn, I seen red and regretfully blew up.

I screamed at them its literally the only time I ever did this, it BECAUSE it easier on them & I'll do what I want whatever anyway, & to stop interrupting me while I try to explain things , then they suddnly back done and be like I'm not mad at u I'm mad at the delivery ppl, that they are proud of me for being able to do all this, and such sort. I left them to cool in my room, Idk how I did it but must have slam-gripped something so hard it chipped most of my short nails & cracked one, was glad I didn't hurt my drawing hand but yeah, goofy mani

They robbed me of the joy of anticipation & the dissipation of apathy, I started to lose sleep again and my liberating dreams left me and I don't think I remember leaving bed.

But still, If not force myself to do things.. there'll be nothing for me if I don't.. at least I know im able of that

I got my guardians happy tho after another tiresome refusal, by trying out one of those Uber-eat like local apps here, since they have no car and being disabled & ill, I ordered McDonald's for the first time. Slythry behind their backs per habit, told them someone coming and they had that look again, but thankfully the guy came through and didn't steal my money, heh. For a big 1800 calories meal I suppose it was passable, the happy fam faces I got was the real treat..

Oh with that thing with the credit card stating I owe them money, waited weeks & nobody got back to us? They started taking from my guardian's account directly to pay it, saying oh we did send you warnings--- TO THE SHADOWY LINES OF THEIR POSTERIOR A.K.A NOWHERE. Thankfully the account is mostly empty nd just for random transactions, i alerted my guardians not to use it. And again, my god, another round of endless calls and promises started, and we wait again so they just don't act as if we owe them a frking 17k dollars that we don't have.. was panicking cuz I have nothing and but my guardians were weirdly comforting about it and told me not to worry

One thing good bout no net is it made me stop thinking about life in general, and stop the tiny unnoticeable prick of misery when I have no input to share, trying not to helplessly compare people just living, in inflated style or not, in media, to my isolated-most-of-my-life style and missing much of that organic "life experiences and chances", heh. At least, my situation would be favorable to me if it was ever possible for it to let me have peace, or have the simple knowledge I'm not virtually imprisoned and have never familiarised with nothing of this world but the surrounding walls.. its nice to have more time to be consumed by muse and day dreaming that flutters life through my dull being and sing chorus of inspiring means for art to flow and finds its way delicately onto my realised canvas.. but no, I continued drawing whilst sight blurred with salty droplets contradicting that happy tintin dance on tiktok I worked so long on just cuz I couldn't stop, not the tears or the mad scribbles of determined intention to visualise the mourned excitement I need, hating everything I make

Somehow the lilac dream still intrudes, visualising me friends, living, in a quaint home, maybe we roommate, arm in arm we go to make every fracture of fate's encounters a disgusting adventurous thrill, like building a maze of cardboard or chasing each other in the dark.. maybe getting that half bleached head and endless ear pericings ... then it dies and I totally forget it..

But what those awesome headphones helped me do, literally blocks all their voices listening to Sev losing it and I can Waltz around not feeling gutted to go and interfere or play the referee each time. But I can't wear them forever, gives me a bad headache, and honestly; I can't be too neglectful.. my sibs hates me for it already hehe

At least these clothing came true to their measurements, felt the new sensations on how everything I wore hugs me & learnt the baffling ways on how "gender" and region plays different tunes on the same measurements. Getting fitting things felt like suddenly there's hope to be, for myself to be me, and ease this severe disassociation between who I am, and what my body is .. from how little I see myself nd consider it worthy of anything because of how long it been living like a phantom among people.. to numb this dysphoria until it be gone one day

Saddened that the only site I can't order from again if they keep using that awful carrier

...

I missed our country's 91 national day, too. They made sales everything 91 riyal so.. but knowing the sellers here, I don't think most of em went true with their offers.. Horrible news tho on the celebrations, sigh

I turned this into a dear diary, guess bothered you enough today, sorry

So thankful to yous, Idk if I can be back, but I'll remain creating, and will keep the thought alive of being tickled when sharing my creations with your viewing pleasure somehow

'till then my precious dears, take care 💛🙏

26.9.2021, 8 pm, sleeping

[ryuichirou]

What happened is everything ok regarding aot? I follow u on twitter

Yeeeah about that…

It’s the same old thing: we got some negative “ew what the fuck” type of comments under our recent (non-snk) art, and this time both of us (hysterically, tbh) snapped. We had A BLAST this weekend, and then, when this happened, reality hit us really hard because of the contrast. Suddenly we got a very clear realisation that we’re done with getting treated like shit for simply posting stuff that we like. Stuff that’s easily avoidable, easily blockable, easily ignorable. We spent over a year blocking people, ignoring comments, trying to be as civil as possible, and I can’t count the amount of times I repeated that this doesn’t matter and people who support us are the ones who do matter… and don’t get me wrong, this is still true. You guys are the ones who helped us a lot during those times and we would’ve probably stopped posting after our very post scolopendra!Eren post in 2019 if it weren’t for you.

But one can only tolerate this type of crap for so long, and we have reached our limit yesterday. We post art to have fun and for people to enjoy, so if posting it brings so much constant negativity, why bother? We don’t understand why we have to go through all this just to post two anime guys kissing/fucking/interacting in any way. Why do I have to block THOUSANDS of people? Why do I have to check the tag and block people there before they come to us in the comments? Why do I have to block them and all their friends and whatnot just to make sure they won’t bother us? I can spend up to three or four hours a day just blocking people instead of idk resting? Relaxing? Drawing, for fuck’s sake? Why is this the experience we get for posting drawings with anime boys?

You know, I love my drawings. We both do. We kinda like them a lot, they’re precious to us, we love the ideas we put behind them, so all those people can shove their “what the fuck”s up their asses. It’s unpleasant to see, and we’re tired of ignoring it. Imagine people randomly coming up to you to say that you’re a piece of shit from time to time once per day, just unprovoked. Yeah I can close my eyes and pretend it doesn’t happen, but for what? Why do I have to do that? I’m just a person. I draw stuff. It makes me happy to draw stuff that I like and to make Katsu happy as well. Just so you know, all this year that we’ve been posting art, we’ve been drawing together for ~6 hours every single day, without missing even one. That’s a lot of dedication. Nobody likes to be humiliated for that, esp when all the critique that you get is... you know what I get, you’ve seen it yourself. Maybe you’ve seen more stuff than I have.

I’m very neutral about things I don’t like/ship. I never say negative stuff about them, unless I get an ask about it, and even then we try to be as civil in the replies as possible. I also dedicate a lot of time to give at least some love to all the ships that don’t have a lot of content. I dedicate a lot of time to draw girls the way I want to see them. That’s what I get for my efforts. “Waste of talent”. Because they don’t like Ereri/Eruri/Zevi/whatever you wanna put here. Like wow, thanks for shitting on one of the few people who even bothered with drawing some rareship in the first place.

I know that it’s you guys who support us who’re the ones suffering the most in the end, you didn’t deserve this. I’m very sorry. But we have to worry about ourselves first.

That being said, I did say that we’d stop posting SnK-related content some time after the finale, so I guess it’s time. Like I mentioned, we had some other drawings we wanted to sketch and post, but no luck here I guess lol I’ll try to reply to all the asks that we have in our askbox though, so don’t worry about those.

I’ve said it before, but I’ll reiterate: we may come back to SnK in the future, and I’m almost sure we will. We love the manga so much, and the AUs, all this stuff. But it won’t happen in a couple of years or so haha, not because of the anti stuff, but because we want to get some fresh air and get back to it after we’ve forgotten it a lil bit. It’s more enjoyable that way.

I hope this doesn’t sound too dramatic lol but yeah, this is how the things are for now.

[asphalt-cocktail]

Finding my way back

Summary: Nearly a decade after you and John break up you manage to find your way back to him.

A/N: Hello my dears! So I wrote this for Beatle and Queen secret santa exchange! Apologies it’s not heavily Christmas/holiday themed; it does take place during winter so I hope that counts for something. I hope you enjoy your fic as much as i enjoyed writing it @sweetrosetta-martin​! I wrote this after I heard the song Green Papaya by Lianne La Havas which makes me feel some type of way. Also shout out to @casafrass​ and @moodysunflowergirl​ for putting this together! Thank you for all your hard work and organization for this! 

Pairing: John Lennon x Female!Reader

Warnings: Okay friends, we’ve got a bit of everything in here! It’s got some mild illusions to smut and steamy smooches, some angst, some fluff, pinning, longing, break ups, cigarettes, alcohol (I think), swearing, we’ve got Teddy boy!John and 70s!John. But no actual smut. 

Word Count: 5.4k

Your heart ached in your chest as you sat in front of John, “What do you mean we can’t see each other anymore?” Your voice cracked with emotion.

John watched your watery eyes from behind his glasses and let out a deep sigh, “I’m going to be touring a lot and Brian wants us to move to London, so I just…” His own voice cracked with emotion, “So I just don’t think we should keep seeing each other.” He looked away unable to maintain eye contact with you.

“But we survived Germany!” You protested back, “It will be okay, I can visit you when you have shows nearby,” You wanted this to work, being with John felt like home. You sniffed, “You know like wait backstage with flowers and everything.” You said and began to rub your stinging eyes.

You were right, the two of you had survived Germany, but it was only because it lasted a few short months and your relationship was open out of respect for the two of you; John didn’t know how long this Beatles thing was going to last and from the looks of it, it was going to last quite a while. John rubbed the tears from behind his glasses, smudging his finger along the lenses and clouding the vision of your perfect face. He squeezed your hand tightly in his own, “It’ll be fine I promise,” He said pausing to kiss your knuckles, “I love you [Y/N] I really do, and if it’s meant to be we will be together again.” He gave you one last chaste kiss; your faces were wet from tear and it was sad and short lived. You embraced him tightly inhaling the scent of cigarettes, mint gun, and a smell that was so distinctly John before finally letting him go to part ways.

The two of you exchanged letters for the first few months of his first tour, but at this point it has been so long that you didn’t remember who stopped writing who and honestly, why did it matter? John was constantly an aching thought in the back of your mind, and you had constant reminders of him from posters to news articles, to full size cardboard cut outs that sat in record stores. It seemed everywhere you turned you saw him which only increased the yearning.

It took several months but you finally found yourself back in a routine that didn’t include John, it was almost like when he went to Germany except this time he wasn’t coming back for good. You finished up school, found a job working in marketing, and had several shitty boyfriends before you found yourself in New York city working in the marketing division of a fashion brand and met Noah. He was nice, but he wasn’t John.

He didn’t smoke cigarettes, or wear glasses, and couldn’t understand art. But he was here, and the sex was pretty okay.

Noah was nice and he made you a pot of coffee every morning he slept over and didn’t try to pry too far into your personal life. All around you didn’t have any qualms with him; it just didn’t feel complete.

The scent of freshly roasted coffee drifted through your home as you woke up with your alarm clock blaring in your ears. You sat up, rubbing the sleep from your eyes and rolled out of bed. Noah was busying himself in the kitchen, you should just ask him to move in at this point. “Did you get the paper?” You asked sitting down at the table.

“On the counter, love.” He answered before grabbing it and sliding it across the table towards you. Much to your surprise in big bold letters on the front page “PAUL SPLITS THE BEATLES” were plastered across it. Naturally a picture of the doe-eyed man you once called a friend accompanied it as well as a smaller picture of the group.

“Fucking Christ.” You mumbled to yourself and turned the page, hoping to find something else to read, some couple getting married or some advice column, but no, your eyes continued to draw themselves back to the fab four and specifically John. He looked wildly different now; long hair, glasses, eccentric wardrobe all made him look almost unfamiliar

You finally gave in and read the article; from what you observed in the news and on television tensions were high between the four and it seemed as though fame had gotten the best of them, “Crazy, right?” Noah asked handing you a cup of coffee, “Who would have thought? It looked like they were going to be together forever. But get your riches and split I guess, yeah?”

A sour feeling filled your belly, John and Paul cared more about the Beatles than Noah could ever know. The idea of get rich and dip was ridiculous, wasn’t it? “I don’t think that is the case.” You mumbled before abruptly getting up to get ready for work, forgetting your morning coffee.

It had been almost a decade since you had last seen John, and a lot could have changed. He was no longer the tough teddy boy you had grown to love. His hair had grown out and he was with Yoko Ono now, from the looks of if they were essentially attached at the hip. A part of you hoped you and Noah would never achieve that level of need in your relationship.

Unfortunately, as months passed there seemed to be no other way to progress your and Noah’s relationship and one day he slept over and never left. You no longer had your own space to escape to or much alone time aside from when Noah came home an hour after you from work. You felt throttled and frankly didn’t like it, nor did you like Noah much anymore. It seemed like the right step though, after three years of dating; you could tell Noah craved monogamy.  

Your day at work was long and exhausting. All you could think of was your hour of peace and quiet before Noah came home and talked about his boring life at work. If you had to use a color to describe your life it would be grey, dull, boring, no vibrancy or excitement.

New York was full of bright vibrant colors and never slept; it was much livelier that than the cloudy northern United Kingdom city you once called home, but in the small apartment that you lived in there was constant monotony. Waking up, making coffee, going to work, coming home, reading and making dinner, going to sleep; only to repeat that for five days in a row and then sit around the house during the weekend, or leave to get groceries if you were lucky. If you were unlucky, Noah’s accountant friends would come over and talk your ear off about their corporate work life you just couldn’t wrap your head around.

Your mind was swimming with thoughts, mostly about your stagnant life as you navigated your way off the subway once you reached your stop and walked off. It was loud and cramped as everyone flooded off; you kept your head low and pushed your way through the crowd. A firm, but boney shoulder pushed into you causing your thoughts to flee and your brows furrowed as you looked up, “Watch it, asshole.” You mumbled under your breath and looked up before you froze.

Your eyes locked with a pair of eyes that were all too familiar and all the breath in your body seemed to leave, “[Y/N]?” John asked you, seemingly just as shocked as you were.

Despite being in the subway station the world around you stopped. A few sputtering words came out to form an incoherent sentence as you were consumed with shock. Your body became ridged and you sharply exhaled before turning and continuing your short jaunt home.

That night you laid on your side and your mind was consumed with so many thoughts, mostly John if you were being honest. You’d thought you had long since blocked the ghost from your memory, but it appeared that seeing him caused a number of memories to rouse from the depths of your consciousness. You hated it. John Lennon was once again living in your head rent free.

Noah gripped your side and kissed along your shoulders and neck while his hand rubbed your hips and slowly began to wander upwards towards your breasts. The sudden touch caused you to jump, “Not tonight,” You mumbled trying to sound tired.

Noah let out a soft sigh before giving your shoulder one last kiss, “Sorry, you had a long day, love.” He said pulling you close against him and resting his head on your shoulder. As you pretended to sleep you laid in your bed and stared at the wall of darkness in your room.

When the hell did John come to New York?

Did he live nearby?

Was Yoko with him?

Questions swirled around in your mind; questions that would not get answered unless you actively sought out an answer.

As sleep consumed you, you dreamt of John.

The Reeperbahn had a smell you would never forget. You didn’t know cities could have distinct smells until you traveled to Germany to visit John for the first time since he had left Liverpool. It was a combination of pollution, beer, and a smell you had hoped to never figure out what caused it. From his letters this place seemed larger than life, and when you took your first steps off the train you saw it was.

John tackled you with a warm hug, he smelled like sweat, beer, and cigarettes, “You stink.” You grinned and laughed as he kissed your face all over.

“Our options are kind of limited, love.” He grinned and wrapped his arm around your waist keeping you close to him as the two of you walked down the busy street.

He took you to a restaurant, you honestly hadn’t expected him to take you on a date especially with where you were and how little money he had. “Come on, I’ve got a show in two hours,” He grinned, excited to have you watch him play.

“And then we met this group of Germans, they’ll be at the show tonight. I know you’ll love them.” His eyes crinkled as he smiled at you, “Stu is going with one of them, Astrid. She’s great too, her ma lets us shower at her place and makes us dinner sometimes.” You soaked in all the stories John had to share.

His life seemed so exciting here in Germany, but you could see how exhausted he was beginning to get, “You’ve got to hear how we sound now, Pete’s still shit, but Paul, George and I are really getting better.” He shifted in his seat and poked at his food, “I don’t know if Stu is going to stick with us much longer though; he’s been talking about going back to art school.”

That night you and John slept cramped together in his little bunk bed in the back room. You woke up to him rubbing your arm with the tips of his calloused fingers and he kissed your shoulder.

Rolling over you captured his lips in a soft kiss, he tasted of beer and cigarettes and he clung to you, holding you so close it almost hurt. Breaking the kiss, he began to pepper soft kisses along your jaw and neck, “I love you so much,” He said between heavy breaths.

“I love you too John.” You responded letting out a soft whimper as his fingers began to rub you through the cloth short wore to sleep.

With a gasp you shot up in bed, coated in a layer of sweat and looked around the still dark room, wide eyed. Noah rubbed his sleepy eyes as he woke up, “What’s wrong, hun?” He asked.

You gained control of your breathing once more and laid back down, still uncomfortably sweaty; “Nothing, just a nightmare.” You answered and swallowed thickly.

---

For weeks, John plagued your mind and you were starting to convince yourself that you hadn’t truly seen him and that you were just going crazy. Your sleep was becoming more and more restless as time went on. It got so noticeable that even Noah questioned it.

“Take some time off, hun, you work too much.” He said.

So that was what you did. You finally had a week off after what felt like ages.

It was nice, but you were barely half a day into your vacation, and you began to feel restless. What could you possibly do to fill your time?

Your mind began to wander and drift off to thoughts of John; a wave of nausea immediately washed over you. “I need to leave.” You abruptly said and grabbed your purse and house keys before leaving your flat.

You soon found yourself at Central Park. Despite it being autumn, the weather was nice, the kind of nice where you look outside, and it seems warmer than it is. The breeze was soft but brisk you walked through the park enjoying the breath of fresh air. As you walked through the running paths you admired the changing leaves and the crunching sound they made under your feet.

You eyed a bench that overlooked The Lake, so cleverly named, and brushed the fallen leaves that covered it before you sat down. For once you felt like your mind was free from worry and the anxieties that had been consuming you the last several weeks.

That was until you got up and saw a familiar figure walking down the path that would directly cause yours. A shot of adrenaline shot through you and your heart began to race. It was as though your fight or flight responses had kicked in and they were telling you to get the fuck out of there. You frantically looked around and it felt like a lose-lose situation with whatever option you chose. So, you stayed; how bad was it going to be? Maybe he wouldn’t even notice?

John walked past your little out cove and glanced at you and then looked again, “Fucking hell.” He mumbled stopping in his tracks.

The two of you stood frozen, staring at each other for what seemed like a lifetime before John finally broke the silence, “I thought I saw you at the subway station.” He said bluntly, his familiar voice causing a warm feeling to erupt in your belly and spread to the tips of your fingers.

You opened your mouth and closed it, trying to think of something to say, “You did.” Was what you finally spoke.

“Right,” He sighed, looking down in defeat.

You stuffed your hands in your pockets and shifted the weight on your feet, “Do you want to sit?” You asked abruptly.

John looked at you through his round lenses and nodded, “Sure, I could sit for a while.” He answered.

The two of you sat across from each other on your respective benches, “So, how long have you lived here for?” John asked watching you nervously pick at your fingers.

You looked up from your hands, “About 6 years now.” You leaned back, now feeling confident enough to study his features. His face was thinner, age lines had begun to map themselves out on his face, and his hair was messily layered and framed the sides of his face nicely. He was still as handsome as ever, “How long have you lived here for?”

John cleared his throat and pulled out his cigarettes, placing one in his mouth, “About two years now,” the conversation was weird, like the two of you didn’t know what to talk about. You watched as John’s long fingers light his cigarette, the spicy smell filling the space between the two of you and the smoke delicately curling up towards the sky, “So do you work near by or something?” He asked casually crossing his legs and resting his arm on the back of the bench.

You shook your head, “No, I don’t I just needed to get out of the house.” You said, staring at the reason you felt urged to leave your home in the first place, “I only live about six blocks away. It’s a nice walk.” You added, your stomach suddenly feeling sour as you remembered Noah.

John hummed, inhaling deeply on the cigarette the ember burning a bright red before dimming ever so slightly, “Do you work at all?” His tone came off ruder than expected, but you knew he didn’t intend for it to.

“Marketing.” You answered simply. Your brain swam with question you had for your former lover, “Do you live nearby?” You asked returning the question back to him.

John nodded behind him, “The Dakotas.” He mimicked your shortness. You looked and could see the large building peaking out from the tops of the trees.

You hummed, “Must be nice.” You said flashing him a closed mouth smile.

“It is.” He added and stood up, taking one last deep inhale before stubbing out his half-smoked cigarette in the snow and putting it in his pocket, “You look good, you know.” He said, his eyes studying your seated form before settling on your face.

Suddenly feeling self-conscious and very aware of your existence you crossed pulled your winter coat tighter around you, “So do you John.” You responded, “You’ll have to show me your place sometime.” You boldly suggested.

John flashed you a crooked smile before fishing around in his pocket, “Call me and I’ll see if I can fit you into my schedule.” He said before handing you a business card. Of course, he had business cards.

You couldn’t help but roll your eyes as you took the thick and expensive paper and pocketed it, “I’ll have my people call your people.” You allowed a smile to break your nervous features.

That night your mind saw no peace. You sat in the bathroom staring at the business card in your hand. It was nearly 3 am and the delicate gold letters reflected in the shitty florescent lights that made your eyes ache as you repeatedly read the phone number and name.

The rest of your vacation it seemed as though you were not going to get the mental break you so desperately craved. You watched as Noah left for work and felt a pang of guilt rising in your chest; a pice of you felt greedy for wanting to see John again. So, you figured it would be best to tuck it away in the back of your mind to the place where your other thoughts of John lived and put the card away in a shoe box and tried to forget.

---

Forgetting about your interaction with John seemed to work well, that is until you and Noah broke up.

He stood in the doorway with the boxes of his things. You could tell he didn’t feel great, and neither did you. But a piece of you felt thankful that he was finally moving out. After seeing John your body craved the spontaneity that he used to give you, and the spontaneity that Noah had lacked.

Once the last of his things were moved from your apartment you felt as though a weight had been lifted off your shoulders. You felt good, like a breath of fresh air. You busied yourself by rearranging your home and filling the empty spaces that Noah left after he and his belongings vacated your space.

As you moved your shoe boxes and rearranged your closet a business card slipped from the tear in one of them. It was the one that John had given you only a few months ago.

Your breath hitched in your throat as you stared at the intricate gold letters you familiarized yourself with that night that seemed so long ago. You looked at the clock, it was only 4 PM and you had hoped he wasn’t busy.

You curled up on your couch and held the phone receiver against your ear listening to it ring as you absentmindedly played with the stiff card in your hand.

“Hello?” You instantly recognized John’s voice.

“John?” You responded back, “It’s, um, it’s [Y/N]” You felt a surge of nerves pulse through you.

“You know, I expected you to call sooner.” John skipped the formal greetings.

You couldn’t help but let out a nervous laugh, “Yeah, sorry about that. I suppose nerves got the best of me.” It wasn’t a whole truth, but a half truth, “Do you think you’d be interested in showing me your place sometime?” you asked remembering back to the conversation the two of you had several months prior.

John hummed and you could hear the soft rustle of paper in the background before he cleared his throat, “Yeah, I suppose I could fit you in. Did you want to stay for dinner?”

Your heart thudded in your chest, “Dinner?” You question out loud and let out a puff of air, “Yeah, I suppose I could.”

“Right, so 6 o’clock sound good?” John asked, “I can send a car for you.”

“A car?” You asked, not accustom to the luxuries of being a Beatle, “I can walk it’ll be fine.”

John let out a sigh, “It’s freezing outside and nearly pitch black. You aren’t walking.” He said firmly.

“Fine.” You answered in defeat and gave him your address to send the car.

“Right, be ready by 5:30.” He said  

“Shit, okay.” You said before bidding him farewell and scrambling to get ready. The sleek black car arrived and drove you to the Dakotas. It was nice, far nicer than any building you had ever been in before. The driver walked you up to John’s apartment and let you in.

The room was decorated in a hodgepodge of John’s interests, from music to art to antiques; with everything tastefully on display. John walked out, dressed casually in a shirt, jeans, and no shoes and drank in your figure as you stripped off your jacket. You shifted nervously under his intense gaze, “So, you wanted a tour, yeah?” John asked.

You nodded and watched as he crossed his arms over his chest, admiring how his biceps flexed and bulged when his hands rested in position, “Yeah, a tour.” You said secretly hoping this would amount to much more than a tour.

John stretched his arms out, “Well welcome to my humble home.” He greeted in a grandiose manor.

Humble, right.

John’s home was more extravagant than you could have imagined. It was much better than the apartment he lived in with Stu or the back room they had in Hamburg and even better than when he lived with Mimi. He had several cats that roamed around his home; it made you smile and remember the time he brought a stray home and convinced Mimi to keep him. It seemed as though old habits died hard when it came to John.

The two of you made your way back to his living room and he sat down on his couch, “Come on, sit.” He said patting the spot next to him.

“Oh,” You abruptly said, not noticing you had been standing in the middle of the room studying the various things on the wall, “Right.” You quickly sat on the couch uncomfortably stiff, “So… dinner?” You asked.

John nodded his head, not having forgotten the food and pulled out a box of take out menus, “Do you want to order something, I haven’t gotten much for groceries this week.” He admitted sheepishly.

You rifled through the various menus in his collection, “So,” You started, “Where is Yoko?” You asked honestly wondering where his other half was.

“We’re separated right now.” He said sounding uncomfortable.

You glanced over at John and noted his somber expression, this was obviously a topic he didn’t want to talk about. “Sorry to pry.” You said before sliding him the menu of one of your favorite Chinese restaurants in the area.

“It’s a valid question.” He stated, now intently focused on the menu, “What about you?” He asked, peaking up to glance at you before quickly looking away.

“What do you mean?”

“You know, your love life and what not.” He followed up quickly.

You shifted uncomfortably, “Oh, well my ex just moved out today.”

John arched one of his thick brows, “Hm,” He grunted, “Nice lad?” He questioned.

You shrugged, “Yeah, I suppose. Just boring.” You answered thinking back to the stale and stagnant version of your life that was your reality only a week ago.

John watched you frown in distain before he got up to place your orders, “What did you want again?” He asked.

“The number 23 dinner special with an eggroll.” You had your order memorized.

As John placed the order on his telephone, you listened to the sound of his muffled voice and leaned back on the couch. It was interesting how despite not seeing each other for nearly a decade, you still found your way back to him. One of his cats climbed their way on your lap and purred as you scratched behind its ears.

“She likes you.” John said as he walked back into the room, “Food should be here in 45 minutes.” He said plopping back down. The black cat nuzzled its head into your head and let out a soft meow.

“What’s her name?” You asked enjoying the attention your newfound friend was giving you.

“Salt.” He said, a smile cracking his features.

“Salt?” You asked letting out a small huff of laughter.

“Her sister, Pepper is somewhere around here.” He said reaching over and petting Salt, scratching her behind the ears.

Your 45 minutes with John was spent chatting and catching up, he talked about Mimi and told you that she asked about you often and he never knew how to respond, and you talked to him about how you finished college and began your marketing job.

It was interesting how the two of you were able to smooth over the awkwardness of your conversation in just a few short hours, unlike your previous run ins. The familiar warm feeling you would get every time you’d talk to him quickly returned. When your food arrived the doorman from the front of the building brought it up and the two of you laid out your spread on the coffee table.

John walked over to a shelf of movies and pulled one out. He turned towards you, flashing you the box. It didn’t surprise you when he showed you Clockwork Orange. It was a very John movie, “Want to watch it?” He asked smiling softly.

You nodded your head, “Pop it in.” You said waving your hand towards his television.

The movie played in the background as the two of you continued to talk and eat your takeaway, “How are you doing?” You asked.

“I’m fine, how are you?” He responded a confused expression plastered on his face.

You shook your head, “No, John I really mean it; how are you?” You said giving him a sympathetic expression.

Putting his chopsticks down, John sighed, “I don’t know.” He pursed his lips deep in thought, “I mean I suppose I’ve been better.” He answered honestly, “I mean, my wife left me, my friends I’ve known for the last two decades don’t really want much to do with me.” John shrugged his should and looked away from you.

You nodded your head reaching over and grabbing his hand, rubbing it with your thumb before you patted it lightly and pulled it away. John chased your hand with his own and laced his fingers with yours. The rough underside of his palm brushed against your soft ones. The contrasting touch made you shiver, “I missed you.” He said and squeezed your hand.

John brought your hand to the side of his face and pressed your palm to his cheek, leaning into the warmth of your hand, “I missed you too.” You said as you thumb stroked his cheek bone. He turned his face and kissed your skin.

Your breath hitched in the back of your throat and the feeling of John’s lips burned into your palm. You watched him, his eyes closed and a calm expression taking over his tense body. Slowly you slid closer to him, closing what little space was between the two of you, “John,” You said breaking the soft silence that had settled between the two of you. He hummed and looked up at you urging you to continue, “You know what you told me when we broke up?”

John looked down, you could tell that the topic hurt him as much as it hurt you, “If it’s meant to be, we’ll find each other.” He said softly now looking at your fingers as he played with them.

In this moment he just looked like John, you’re John you had last seen nearly a decade ago. You pulled your fingers away from him and cupped his face, forcing him to look at you. Hesitantly you moved closer to him, feeling the warmth of John’s body radiating off him. Your heart thumped loudly in your ears as your noses touched, lightly brushing against each other.

A soft whimper manifested itself in the back of your throat and trickled out when you felt John press his lips against yours. He pulled your close against his chest and held you against him tightly craving your warmth and body. Your mouths moved with a familiar synchronicity, so familiar it caused your stomach to ache as you frantically clung to John. Your hand managed to fall from his face and tangle itself in his shirt as you tried to pull him closer.

The way your nose bumped against his glasses reminded you of when you were 18 and sneaking into Mimi’s house, giggling as he told you to quiet down while the two of you kissed. You couldn’t help but smile at the memory.

John pulled away and left open mouth kisses on your chin and jaw and finally on your kiss. He immediately went to his favorite spot placing a wet open-mouthed kiss on it. You gasped at the feeling and craned your neck urging him for more.

Which he gladly gave you, pulling more sweet sounds from your mouth. He pulled back and studied your face through hooded eyes. John’s hand came up and he stroked the side of your face with the back of his hand. His touch was light and the back of his hand soft. You let out a sigh and leaned into his touch before looking back at him.

You laid back and pulled John against your chest. He responded by wrapping his arms around you and nuzzling his head into you, “I’m sorry for what’s happened John,” You said and admired the weight of his body against yours.

John rubbed his face into your chest and didn’t look at you, “Stay the night, please.” He pleaded with you.

You rubbed his back as he clung to you, your heart ached hearing the loneliness in his voice, “Of course.” You said and kissed the top of his hair. John hummed with content feeling your fingers tracing patterns against his back.

The following morning you woke up next to John, his arm firmly wrapped around you and hair buried in the back of your neck. You turned around and wrapped your free arm him while your other remained pinned on your side. John let out a soft sigh and pulled you close against his chest and kissed the top of your head. You’d forgotten how much you missed and craved affection. You moved to leave, and John pulled you back, “Don’t leave me,” He said softly.

“I have to use the bathroom.” You said smiling and turning towards John.

He let out a playful groan, “Fine.” He said rolling over and sprawling out on his bed like a starfish.

When you returned John was still in the same position, you’d left him in. As you crawled back into the bed John’s arms slithered around you like a snake and pulled you into his chest. You inhaled deeply, missing his smell and smiled against the thin shirt he wore to bed.

In just a short amount of time the life that had once felt so grey and strange was now beginning to once again feel like home.

[weaselbeaselpants]

Weird week behind me weird week ahead of me but I’ve done a lot of self reflection and came to the weirdest epiphany. The older I get the more I realize all my ‘problems’ with VivziePop - her thoughts on criticism;  the choices she makes in story telling; some of the people she’s worked with (not that any of that’s my business; I’m not her mom) really aren’t about Viv, but more about her fandom.

I’m speaking of the preHazbin era Viv here and as someone who’s only watch horny fish jump at the surface rather than jump straight into the Hazbin-fandom, but given my ‘noncritical’ fellow fans have told me that the Vivziefandom now is also terrible - I guess I’ll go over my experience and make the most out of what I do know.

I followed Viv in 2009 and fell off in 2013 cause I kinda just lost interest and found myself wrapped up in other fandoms. I’ve always felt amicable about her content; I could give or take designs or the way in which she wrote characters -- ((Zech represent!!!)) but it’s honestly surreal and really fun seeing this person I recognize make it big and improve so much. Like I’ve said before I am very happy and very impressed with Viv doing all she’s done in the span of TWO YEARS. wow gurl.

Trouble is, there was the particular breed of fan who really made me...uncomfortable. They felt almost possessive of Viv’s attention. They sang praises about her work in a way that just made me want nothing to do with it because I was worried if I drew those characters these people would be like ‘hey, I’M Viv’s fav artist, not you!”. They would  unironically write Viv messages like:

“you are a GOD” -- “I’m so not worthy compared to you” --“I wish I was as talented as you” -- “YOU ARE EVERYTHING AND CAN’T DO WRONG VIV”.

The kind of messages which were meant to sound flattering but, intentional or not, came off as gaslighting, like they were guilt tripping Viv about being better than them. This behavior, treating your favorite artist/internet personality like your superior and groveling like Starscream, it strikes a nerve with me; partly because I was this way with my favorite artists and influences back in the day,  but also because once I got a taste of that treatment myself I realized just how bad it could be:

There was once a girl on dA who was jealous of me because of the attention I got on my art instead of her. I told her that I wasn’t gonna stop drawing but also that there was nothing wrong with her art and she’d find her place. It was weird being put in that position where someone is very clearly upset at you but also looking for your approval.

The second was some scumball who I blocked in 2016. He wouldn’t speak to me, only write condescending, backhanded comments on my art; check on my profile daily; call me a bootlicker (cuz I took commissions) behind my back; redrew my art and would talk about me in his personal artist notes about how I ‘probably wouldn’t see this’ - oh yeah all the while he did fan art of my characters but again never spoke to me when I replied. When I finally messaged him about his behavior he said he thought I was “really overrated” and “bad for the fandom” cuz I took money and kept him from getting the love he deserved. It took messaging another person within our fandom, one I had been in spats with online before, to finally realize I shouldn't put up with that bs....

That guy who was stalking me btw did so while I was well under 1.K watchers and am still pretty obscure. Anyway, I had one guy unhealthily watching me for the wrong reasons. Just one. This is why when Viv says she “hates creeps” I 150% believe this woman and am not about to call her a liar who just can’t take criticism. Like, if you really think that, I’m sorry but you don’t know what Viv’s gone through from both her critics AND fans.

Of course, a lot of people will be like “I bet you’re just jealous and really just want that kind of attention yourself so you’re preaching to the choir”, but like...no. I am envious of just about any creator who’s the social butterfly I’m not, but, like, if I'm jealous of an artist none of that is that artists’ fault. Ever. It’s my own issues with being comfortable with myself are at stake. If I criticize Viv’s work it’s not because I see her as competition or my Squilliam Fancyson; it’s because I’m a critical fan of animation and cartoons and have my own thoughts to share on the cartoons of an artist I’m familiar with.  Jealousy/envy/mixed-admiration/godIwishthatwereme.jpeg feels are totally natural and valid emotions when you’re a creator. Envy becomes a problem when you internalize, weaponize, and scrutinize people on the basis of them being what you aren’t which -yes - some people do in the name of criticism. ((Although, I would hardly say some of the nastiest AntiViv folk are jealous as much as they are angry that this project they think is harmful is getting attention and using that as justification for some really shitty behavior of their own, which no, this post is not a part of by virtue of coming from a critical fan.))

Critique can come from either a good place or bad place; good critique can be used to bad ends and bad critique can come from a well-meaning place, and vice versa.   It’s the difference between many a criticalfan having a sour taste in their mouth regarding the Viv’s base but persisting in a critique+admiration separate of that, and this asswipemonster trying to weasel his way into Spindlehorse while also bashing Viv on a public forum for clearly vitriolic reasons. He was a creep.

So yeah um please stop insisting that every Hazbin critic is just jealous’ because a) there are people who have a past with Viv’s base and that clouds their judgement, but in a lot of cases that doesn’t invalidate their feelings or thoughts on her work separate from that, and b) I’ve seen what clingy gaslighting jealous fans are. Spoiler: they’re not so much Annie Wilkes as much as they are Tommy Wiseaus. You don’t want Tommy Wiseau following you.

Another bad vibe I really picked up on that I can kinda confirm is still probably the case now: people think that they know Viv and the Spindlehorse crew and have the right to send them shit they don’t need or WANT to be seeing.

Like, I talked with Viv once ages ago. I don’t remember what I said other than we were talking about Frankenweenie, I think. She was nice. Outside of that she said “thank you” to my comments on her deviations but that’s it. I DO NOT KNOW THIS WOMAN AND unless you’ve worked with or are a legit friend/mutual of hers, NEITHER DO YOU. But I don’t think every Vivzie stan/critic knows this. Whether it be people assuming she MUST think they’re headcanon is now canon-canon cuz she liked a comment they made; or some critic thinking they must have seriously hurt her pride because they’ve been blocked by her on twitter (or you know, maybe she and the rest of Spindlehorse is tired of getting @s and don’t have to time to read through your analysis so they’re gonna just block and move on cuz they’re busy).

Just because the creators talk with fans doesn’t mean fans are literally their best friends and have a part in the show’s direction. And yes, critics and reviewers fit that bill as well. Know your damn boundaries people.

If you find/make some kind of contribution as a viewer that’s awesome but you should never expect nor DEMAND the creator see it. The most obvious horror stories involving this and Helluva/Hazbin have been the Instagrams made by the crew being harassed by incestpedo enthusiasts, but it applies even to just @ing creators as well.

I’ve seriously had someone tell me to just take my criticisms directly to Viv and like...no. Why would I do that?

I respect Viv and the artists working with her enough to know that they’re working their asses off on an animated series and should not be bothered. I don’t want them to stop all they’re doing and reply to me. I want them to keep working. Also, that kind of logic makes me wonder how many critics Viv’s found because she found it on her own or if some obsessed fan told her about it - which is really messed up cuz if it IS just good critique you’re, again, just pestering her, and if it wasn’t critique but full on harassment WHY THE FUCK WOULD YOU MESSAGE HER ABOUT THAT ANYWAY? I’m sure she doesn’t need to be reminded that people drew and said really awful shit about her on Tapatalk. My point being I’m sure what people think they’re doing is

“OOOoh Viv lookitwut this person is doing in our fandom we need to ban together against this toxic behavior”

but what they’re actually doing, and sounding like, is -

“Hey Viv I know you are working so hard on the show and you’re trying to figure out where to go from here but LOOKITWHUTTHISHATERSAID. LOOKATIT! VALIDATE ME VIV AND PUT’EM IN THEIR PLAAAAAACE!”

TL;DR Viv’s fanbase back in the day consisted of everyman artists and interests but there was this one breed of fan -who I hope was just a vocal minority- that ruined it for everything else.

Call it stanning or ‘simping’ or as it’s classically known, ‘white knighting’, whatever it was it really soured a lot of people on her because of those fans.

That’s why the DollCreep drama got so bad from what I can tell. Doll and Viv had a falling out and then called out eachother online where people who took it upon themselves to speak for them starting throwing mud.

Back in the day I remember Viv used to get mad at artists for ‘stealing’ her style. I think this attitude from Viv directly has vanished but I remember it happening because one of the people she thought was stealing her style did art for me at some point and they were basically shamed/chased off deviantART by a gaggle of these really nasty Vivfans.

inb4> “VIV WAS AWARE AND STILL WEAPONIZES HER FANS THO”

I don’t know that. And honestly, where I’m inclined to believe she’d do something like that then I think Viv is really different and has improved her business and public image from her college days. I’d be very disappointed in her if she was pulling a Butch Hartman or Derek Savage, but I just don’t think she is one, k?

Viv is more self critical and aware than any of these uber protective-gatekeeping fans give her credit for. She said on the Pizzapartypodcast that she knows the Hazbin pilot wasn’t perfect; she’s been able to identify the problems with old Zoophobia; this woman knows that criticism of all kinds need to exist and from what I see she sounds like she’s trying to get used to that. It’s just, you know, when you have nasty antis badgering you, stalkers, obsessive yes-mam’ fans, opinionated shit posters, r34 artists, entitled shippers and the NDAs of a company alongside your own branded image - all that negativity, even the constructive bits, tend to clump together and you just want to scream at it so you can finish the damn cartoon already!!!!

TL;DR: PART TWO

VivziePop/mind is basically indie Tim Burton.  Her work is fun, shallow and made with love but is marketed as being for everyone when it’s really not. Parts of it I love to watch; parts of it drives me crazy cuz of reasonswhatev this isn’t a review.

BUT any fanbase where people tell me I should just “expect what’s coming to me” when I’m trying to argue against dragging creators into fandrama is troubling. People have a parasocial bond with fandoms and their creators and they need to learn when to back off.

[princecharmingmendes]

His Hoodie | Raul Mendes

"Raul is still insecure when it comes to asking his girlfriend about some stuff, like cuddles and wearing his clothes, and he's pretty sure he's sneaky about it, until he isn't”

Hello my loves, this was supposed to be a blurb or something like it, but I can't seem to be able to write something short and I accidentally turned this into a one shot. This is just me being 100% sure Raul's baby and shy about relationships, with the push from one and only @sinceweremutual, who's just as obsessed with Raul as me. Hope you like it!

*Word Count: 4.5k+.

*Warnings: maybe a few curse words, and I guess that's it. Just overwhelmingly fluff. 

*Posted: July 13th, 2020.

                                                     -*-

Raul Mendes is a very busy guy. Even though Shawn’s the rockstar that’s constantly traveling around the world and stuff, he still manages to get involved in a serious relationship. Raul’s never been the type to be open about his feelings, so in his entire life he’s had one girlfriend that he took home to meet his parents. And with work things only got worse. Being a pediatric surgeon meant waking up in unholy hours to go to shifts or because he’s being called in on an emergency. So to say relationships were not his forte or priority was the most accurate thing ever. Sure, he had his flings here and there, always a very attentive person, but still was a bit afraid of having someone and not being present enough or having to put his job first. So when he told his parents he was going out with someone was a big thing.

First of all, Raul’s really private about his love life, even with his parents, just opens up with his brothers, specially Peter who’s a very great listener and great with advice. And the second reason everyone was a bit surprised is that since he always claimed he didn’t have time to be with someone, suddenly he was going out on dates a few times a week and even took her dog to the doctor when she was busy with work. And obviously, everyone was over the moon when he decided to bring her home for dinner, and it was pretty clear why he was so fond of her. And to say everyone adored Y/N was and understatement. They both had met in a art supply store a few months ago. And even though it was a bit cliche, every time someone asked both of them how you two met, a grin threatened to show on his face and his arm skipped a beat.

He was in a rush, just trying to find the color he needed to finish a painting, which was his favorite hobby to slow down from his intense work, and she was completely lost looking around like she had no idea where she was. Normally he wouldn’t even notice, but something about her in a pretty sunflower printed summer dress, jean jacket and white converse caught his attention. He felt almost itchy to offer you some help, but he didn’t work here and he didn’t want to come out as a creep, so he ignored his need to talk to her and went on through the walls of paint to find the perfect blue shade, until he felt a light tap on his shoulder. He turned around only to face her heavenly features and a blush raising in her cheeks.

“Hi, I’m sorry to bother you, but I can’t seem to find someone to help and I just wanted to know where can I find watercolor brushes, do you happen to know where they are?” The girl in the pretty dress offered him a sweet smile.

“Oh, it’s okay, you’re not a bother, what kind of watercolor brushes you’re looking for?”

“Oh God, there are types of those?!” she sounded pretty much defeated, letting out a sigh and he couldn’t hold back a chuckle.

“What do you have in mind to paint with those?”

“It’s not even for me! I can’t draw a basic heart shape for dear life, I’m here to buy the supplies for someone, but he forgot to mention the details about it and I don’t know anything about art rather than history and which work I find pretty or not”

“It’s all about practice, honey” the pet name slipped of his tongue before he could hold back but she didn’t seem alarmed or weirded out by it, just blushed a bit harder and shook her head.

“I can guarantee you I’m a lost cause”

“I doubt that, but about the supplies, did he give you a list or something?”

“Oh, yeah!” she replied reaching into the inner pocket of her jacket for a little piece of paper with a delicate handwriting on it “I wrote it down in here”

“I think I might be able to help if you want” Raul offered doing a once over the little list.

“Oh please, this would be perfect”

“Okay, so what did your pick up already?”

“Hm, a few types of paper and some pencils” she gave him her little basket “Here!”

“Oh, okay, so we have to find the brushes and the paint” he said and she nodded, following him around the store like a lost puppy “here are the paints he requested, we just have to find the shades”

And with that they started going through the little numbers on the little containers and talk about random stuff. Raul never had so much fun looking through shades of paint with anyone before. She was just funny and pleasant to talk with, not to mention effortlessly beautiful.

“Now the brushes?”

“Yeah, they’re over here, I’d recommend this ones here for the sort of thing you told he’s trying to do, maybe from this sizes” Raul said picking them up.

“Oh, fine”

“Anything else?”

“I guess this is it! Thank you so much, I’d probably have spent the whole day trying to figure this whole thing out alone”

“It’s my pleasure to help, no need to thank me, next time you know where the stuff are”

“Trust me, there won’t be next time, Nick can come here by himself, if it weren’t for you I’d be screwed”

“Well, at least your boyfriend won’t be needing to come back so soon with everything you’re taking”

“Nick’s not my boyfriend” she said chuckling “he’s just a lazy ass friend and I needed to come here to pick up some stuff for work”

“Oh, sorry, I didn’t mean to make you uncomfortable”

“No, you didn’t do it at all, I’m sorry, I didn’t catch your name”

“Raul”

“Oh, well, thank you, Raul, I’m Y/N”

“It’s a beautiful name” Raul said and she smiled at him, blushing lightly.

“Thank you, I’m sorry for bothering you, do you need any help?”

“It’s okay, and you don’t need to help me, only if you want to”

“I do! What do you need?” she offered as he picked up her basket from the floor and guided her to where he was previously.

“I was looking for a particular shade of blue but I can’t seem to find, and I tried mixing some shades to get to them but I can’t”

“Oh, do you have a picture of it?” she asked looking at the huge wall of oil paint.

He unlocked his phone and offered to her “This one”

“I think I saw it earlier, it caught my eye as soon as I walked in here” she said walking in the opposite direction and crouching down “here”

As Raul got a bit closer he noticed it was the perfect shade and he couldn’t hold back a smile “It’s exactly it! Thank you!”

“You’re welcome” she grabbed her stuff with a smile “it was nice meeting you, Raul”

“It was nice meeting you too, Y/N” he said and she waved at him, turning around to pay for her stuff as he stood there contemplating on asking her out, but before he could think about it better.

“Hey, Raul?” she called from where she stood at the cashier counter and he turned to face her “are you busy right now? There’s a new coffee shop down the block and I was wondering if you’d like to go with me”

Right now it didn’t matter the painting he was eager to go home to finish, all he wanted to do was sit down with her at a table and drink coffee until he couldn’t take it anymore.

So he just smiled at her and said “Sure”

And since then they’ve been inseparable.

So it’s no surprise when called her on a Friday to invite her to come over, they had plans to go out and catch a movie but he was too tired and she was thankful, her day at work was insane and all she needed was to relax a bit. And even though she hadn’t spent the night at his place many times before and she’d probably get all jittery about it, she was too tired to care. So when she arrived with a bottle of whine to the smell of homemade pasta mixed with Raul’s signature cologne, she was almost certain she was in heaven. He told her to just walk in and lock the door behind her, so she did, placing her stuff neatly near the door alongside with his and her boots.

She knew the place well enough to find him in the kitchen, listening to a random song as he hummed along facing the stove where he was preparing something. Staring was bad, but she couldn’t help it when he was looking all soft. It was the first time she’s ever seen him wearing a hoodie and she was so grateful it was starting to get a bit colder, specially during the night, so she would have such a blessed vision. Y/N placed the bottle on the counter, clearing her throat softly to let him know she was already there, which made him look over his shoulder with a soft smile playing on his gorgeous lips.

“Hey, pretty girl” he greeted turning off the stove and turning to face her, opening his arms for her, to which she gladly walked into.

She buried her face on the soft material of his hoodie as she mumbled a soft “hi” in response.

“Tired?” he asked and Y/N just nodded, so he placed a kiss to her hair and hummed “food’s almost ready, want to wait for it on the living room? You can pick the movie” and with that she nodded, reluctantly unwrapping herself from him and basically dragging herself to his fluffy rug.

Raul only chuckled in response.

“There’s a bottle of whine somewhere in the kitchen I just brought” she told him from where she was sitting on the floor by his coffee table.

“Thanks, babe” was his only response as he couldn’t hold back his smile.

Raul could get used to this whole kinda domestic atmosphere. Y/N coming home from work a bit later than him, tired and stressed, so he would cook her dinner and cuddle on his living room while watching a movie and drinking some whine or whatever. And maybe, they could switch places and when he’s feeling a bit overwhelmed and stressed, she could run him a bath and rub his back. But he couldn’t think about it now. It was too soon and he didn’t know if she would want that. This was the first time they would actually spend some time at home together that wasn’t between his  sheets (or hers), and breakfast in the morning. He’s not allowing himself to get all fucked up for someone and having his heart broken, he’s seen this movie before and he didn’t like it.

But all his insecurities died when he found her sitting on the floor by his coffee table, her legs close to her chest and she was staring at the screen, waiting patiently for him to start the movie, knowing he’s seen it a billion times and wouldn’t mind sitting down in the middle of it. He just felt like wrapping her in his arms and tucking her into his chest, but he didn’t, instead he set the plates and glasses down as he plopped down beside her. She then leaned forward and pressed play, and as the screen started to gain some life, she turned to him and pressed and soft kiss at the corner of his mouth.

“Thank you, this is just what I needed”

“Yeah, I needed this too” he said trying to fight his smile.

“Tough day?”

“A bit, but now it’s okay” he said and she just nodded, quickly changing the subject, and he was happy she just got him and that sometimes he didn’t need or want to talk about it, and respected it.

“This is amazing! Is it your mom’s recipe?”

“Nonna’s actually” he replied and she smiled at him.

“Well, it’s fantastic”

And from that, they just fell into easy conversation. They both could feel the stress literally lifting off their bones and melting away in each other’s presence. And it was always like this, simple and easy, they could read each other like a book and always fulfill their needs easily. So when they’re done with dinner, she picked up their stuff, under his protest and took to the kitchen, putting it on his dishwasher, claiming he did all the work cooking it was the least she could do. And when she was back, the sat back down on the floor since they were too comfortable before to move to the couch.

Raul’s always been a fan of cuddling, one of his “biggest” secret. He’d never initiate it, afraid the other person would reject it or him and Y/N never showed any signs she was a cuddle bug either, which is way they never really cuddled. So when she was slowly inching closer to him and leaning on his side, he was surprised, but in a good way. Raul let his arm casually drop on her shoulder and she leaned in further into his chest, until she was basically almost on top of him, with their limbs tangled under the coffee table and he wasn’t upset with it at all. He started drawing little patterns on her back and in return she placed a kiss on his chest, nuzzling her face there a bit.

So when he felt she was falling asleep towards the end of the movie, he decided to coax her to bed, and it wasn’t as easy as he thought. She whined a bit whenever he attempted to move, only calming down when he told her he was taking them to bed so they could lay down together. After that she seemed to be more aware and a bit embarrassed by her previous clingy state, so she just nodded and got up, getting her stuff by the door and following him to his bed. They both followed their nightly routine normally and laid down. He tempted reaching a hand to hold hers, and she turned on her side to face him as he did the same, lacing their pinkies together over the duvet.

“I’m sorry” she whispered, afraid to disturb their peaceful bubble.

“About what?”

“Leaning so much into you, never asked you if you minded, I guess I was just tired and didn’t really think about invading your personal space”

“Hey, hey, hey” he said gently squeezing their laced fingers “I didn’t mind at all, I actually liked it, I like being close, I just thought you didn’t so I never tried it”

“Oh really? I’m sorry, I actually really like cuddling, it’s just I was afraid it would upset you so I never did, it’s just that today you were looking extra soft and cute, I guess my exhausted brain didn’t care and just went for it”

“Well- I’m glad it did” Raul said placing a kiss on the back of her hand and she automatically shuffled closer to him, which made him place a hand on her waist, pulling her a bit closer to him.

“I think it was the hoodie”

“The hoodie did it for you?” Raul asked with a smirk and she giggled, her eyes looking a lot smaller from exhaustion.

“Oh, shut up” she said with a roll of the eyes as she reached to play of the curls at the back of his head, something she found out he liked very much “but yeah, it’s just- you’re always looking like a runaway model or an actor from a movie, so seeing you so cozy and soft just-“

“Did it for you?” he offered with a boyish glint on his honey orbes.

“Yes, Raul, it did it for me” she said holding back a giggle as she rolled her eyes “Happy?”

“Very much” he said rolling over her making her squeal “you’re cute”

“You’re cuter” she said with a lazy grin on her lips and he leaned down to press a soft kiss to it.

“You need to rest” he said after pulling away, but before he could lay back, she wrapped her arms around his neck keeping him in place.

“Can we-?”

“Cuddle?” he finished her sentence and she nodded sheepishly “of course we can, baby”

“Thank you” she mumbled as he laid back and pulled her to his chest.

“No need to thank me, you’re doing me a favor”

“Trust me, I’m not” she said with a yawn.

“Time to go to sleep, Y/N, doctor’s order”

“You’re way too bossy, Doc” she said nuzzling her face on his chest “but I’m to tired to argue back, so goodnight, Raul”

“Goodnight, pretty girl”

                                                    -*-

Since the first time she saw him in a hoodie and actually made her cuddle him for the first time as well, she noticed he were it a lot more often. Sure, it was getting colder, but he wasn’t being discreet about it. And since that day he couldn’t stop himself from picturing Y/N in his hoodie on a lazy Friday night, a face mask, some movie playing on the background as she painted both of their nails. But he just didn’t know how to bring it up and not make a fool of himself. She never made a move about asking to use his clothes or whatever. Sure, she always complimented him on his style and he knew a few particular pieces that got certain reactions from her, but she never told him she’d like to wear them.

So he was having a bit of a dilemma. Should he ask her to use his hoodie or just get over it?

He decided for the later, just pretend he didn’t want to come home to find her laying on his couch drowning on his clothes and blankets. But after a few days he gave up, he had what he thought to be a brilliant idea. Raul was going to put one of his hoodies on her wardrobe without her knowing, and if she found it and decided to wear, it was a sign she would be okay with it, and since she wasn’t going to know he was the one who placed it there, he wouldn’t be feeling like he was being pushy. And that’s what he did.

He went to her house on a Tuesday to watch their show and was discreet enough to just throw it on her top drawer and come back to the living room as if nothing happened while she was cooking them something. And since she didn’t say anything about it or tried to return it he felt a bit better, so that could mean two things -she didn’t find it or she didn’t mind. And they’re both kinda great and he was a bit relieved. That until he was heading home Saturday evening for their lazy night date or whatever Y/N called it. So when his phone rang and her name appeared on the screen he didn’t think much of it.

“Hi, pretty girl, are you there already? I’m sorry if I’m a bit late, there was this kid that really needed help”

“Oh, I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to bother you”

“No, I’m already done, I’m leaving now”

“Oh, okay, I still at home, just got here, I’m picking up some stuff, what do you want me to bring?”

“You don’t need to bring anything, baby, we can order something or I can go grab whatever you want”

“Okay, so I’m just going to pack my stuff and I’ll meet you there, is that alright?”

“That’s perfect” Raul said already smiling like the love sick puppy he’s becoming, climbing on his car.

“Oh, by the way, you’re a sneaky little thing, aren’t you?”

“What do you mean?” he let out a nervous chuckle to mask the high pitched voice he almost let out.

“I’ll talk to you at your place, drive safely, Sherlock, bye now!”

“Wait, Y/N!” he tried but she already hung up and he could literally feel his face burning.

                                                     -*-

Raul’s never felt so nervous about Y/N before. The drive to his place was relatively short and he spent the whole ride chewing on his lower lip, tapping the steering wheel and regretting every life decision he’s ever made. He knew there was no need to feel like this, she clearly wasn’t upset and sounded playful on the phone, but he was really embarrassed. He should have just asked her, he knew she wouldn’t find it weird, but he was too insecure to do so and now he has to deal with this. He got up to his apartment and did his routine to take a quick shower and change into something comfy completely robotically, mind still a hundred miles per second. And when he heard his doorbell he basically ran to the door, tripping at everything on his way there.

He opened the door ready to apologize and completely breathless, but when his eyes met her frame adorned on his hoodie he swear his heart just stopped. She giggled at his reaction and stood on her tippy toes to press a single kiss to his lips. He stepped back to let her in still in shock as she walked into his apartment. He could clearly hear her voice cheerfully telling about something, but he didn’t register a single word, mind still racing but this time he didn’t even know what to say or do. She must have noticed him standing awkwardly beside the still opened door, so she walked back to him and placed a gentle hand on his cheek.

“Are you okay, Raul?” her voice sounder a bit more worried and her brows were turned into a frown “what’s wrong?”

“I’m- I’m sorry” was all he could mumble out and the frown on her face o my deepened.

“About what, baby?”

“The hoodie, I- I shouldn’t have tried to give it to you without asking if you minded, and I’m sorry I suck at communicating, and I-“ he started and he felt the blush raising on his cheeks.

“Hey, stop it” she said letting her stuff fall on the floor trying to cup his cheeks in both of her hands “Baby, stop apologizing, I’m not mad at you at all, I found it really sweet actually”

“You did?”

“Of course, Raul! You told me you were not the best with relationships when we first started dating and Peter told me sometimes you get really insecure and I know what I was getting myself into from the beginning and turned out you’re not bad at it at all!”

“No?”

“No, honey, the fact that you care enough about how I’d feel if you asked me to wear this is the sweetest thing, it means you don’t want to push anything on me and that you care, and that’s great”

“It is?”

“Mhmm” Y/N hummed starting to caress his cheek “just so you know, this feels very comfortable and I wouldn’t mind wearing at all, I actually like it”

“Good to know” he said wrapping his arms around her waist and pulling her closer.

“That is my boy” she said and he laughed, pressing a kiss to her forehead “I’m sorry if I scared you or anything, didn’t mean to frighten you”

“It’s okay, I should’ve known you’d be okay with this”

“Next time just tell me, okay? I don’t bite”

“I can prove the opposite”

“Oh shut up for a sec, will you?” she tried to sound mad, but the smile on her voice told otherwise “but I’m serious when I tell you to just talk to me”

“I know, I’ll try, I guess I’m just scared to lose you or be an idiot”

“You won’t, I really really care about you”

“And I’m in love with you”

“What?!”

“Yeah” he said smiling sheepishly with a blush creeping up his cheeks.

“I kinda am in love with you too” she replied as he pressed their lips together in a gentle kiss.

And with that, he was sure everything fell into place and his heart calmed down a bit. He had his girlfriend on his arms and that was an angel for understanding him like she does. But before he could deepen the kiss she pulled back.

“Okay, now that we’re fine, can you please shut the door? Don’t want your neighbors knowing everything about us just yet” she said giggling and Raul laughed, closing the door with a click, still holding her close like she could just disappear.

“Sorry, thought Mr. Jones had the right to know the ins and outs of our relationship”

“Hmm... maybe other day, we should ask him for dinner first” Y/N said winking at him playfully and leaning down to grab her bad “now, how about we order a pizza and try the new face mask I bought, I could even paint our nails, I’ll let you apply the glittery nail polish on mine if you want”

“Oh, that’d be nice, I-“ he started out completely in shock she knew what he’d like to do.

“Peter told me” she informed him with a sheepish smile and he shook his head with a chuckle.

“I’m so going to murder him, you two have to stop talking about me” Raul didn’t mean it at all, he couldn’t be happier that she got along so well with his family “I don’t want him telling you all my secrets”

“Oh, so I wasn’t supposed to see all your baby pics and first photoshoot as a teen looking all cute with braces? I mean, Peter gave me the album, I thought we could look through it tonight together”

“You have to be kidding me, give me it”

“No! You’re not going to let me see it!”

“Of course! Why would I let you see any of those horrid pictures?!”

“Well” Y/N said holding her bad closer to her chest “you’d have to catch me first” and with that she bolted towards his room as he followed her quickly, only to pick her up and toss her on the bed, climbing on top of her in a matter of seconds, her stuff long forgotten on the floor somewhere in the apartment.

“How old are you? Five?” he chuckled a little out of breath

“You chased after me, you’re not much better, sir”

“I was trying to protect my dignity”

“What dignity?”

“Shut up” he said laughing.

“Make me”

“Don’t tease me”

“I’d never do th-“ she was cut off by his lips meeting hers a bit more urgently than before, their tongues soon meeting, only to caress each other as her hands took purchase of his curls. And Raul’s never been more thankful for sneaking his hoodie in her closet.

                                                     -*-

*Please reblog or like this post if you liked it so I’ll know.

*I’m sorry if there are any spelling mistakes.

*Please do not repost this without giving me the credit, this is a completely original piece and I do not give permission to copy this!

*Hope you guys enjoyed it!

*xoxo

-🌙

[ga-yuu]

~Kurama~Main Story Chapter 22~

Warning!! The story has a lot of violence and blood.

Chapter 21

*

*

*

---------Part 1---------

Kurama: "Stop! Ibuki-----" 

 Yoshino: "......!!" 

 Kurama pushes me and I fall to the ground. The next moment, I felt a splash of blood on my face.

 I realized it was Kurama's blood. 

 Yoshino: "Kurama...what..." 

 Kurama: "Nn.....Didn't I order you not to get scratched by other men?"

(No! Don’t lie to me anymore...I hate it...)

Ibuki: “That’s a great result. I knew my instincts were good. I’m glad I gave you Yoshino.”

Kurama: “.......”

A ragged breath escapes from Kurama’s clenched lips, and a gust of wind with the smell of death rolls in.

Ibuki: “Well, that’s quite an injury you got there.”

The lightning flashes from across the wind dazzle the eye.

(Lend me the power of the nine-tail fox----)

Ibuki: “I like you. I like people who don’t give up, who struggle in vain.”

The greatsword split the wind and closed in on me as I tried to drown out the alien power.

(Almost there----)

Kurama: “Don’t touch what’s mine.”

Kurama hugs me tightly as he covers me.

Yoshino: “Kurama!”

Kurama: “...don’t...make a fuss...”

Black wings fluttered from his back as he took the brunt of Ibuki’s attack.

His limbs began to weaken and he barely managed to hold on.

(Why are you defending me to such an extent?)

Ibuki: “.....Nnn...”

Ibuki, whose shoulder was ripped open by the tornado, stepped back holding his wound.

(But it’s only a matter of time before he’ll kill us...)

Kurama: “Yoshino, you have to run away!”

Yoshino: “But.”

Kurama: “Hurry up! You have to...”

(I don’t like it.)

Ibuki: “If you, who have trampled on the weak, should be defeated by the stronger, that would be just providence. It was fun, Kurama. You’re good as dead now.”

Yoshino: “Stop!”

Kurama: “!!”

I thrust my palms forward, feeling the lightning and roar with my body.

(Nn...hot....)

Yoshino; “Nnn....nn...”

The unquenchable heat burned my skin and the pain was so intense that I cried.

Kurama: “Idiot....why are you....doing this....

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

1. My body moved on it’s own...

2. I won’t leave Kurama...

3. I told you, I wanna fight together...(+4/+4)

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Yoshino: “No....I told you..already...I’ll fight together with you...”

Kurama: “Tch...No. I will not allow you to put yourself in danger anymore.”

I tried staying on my two feet, but I was too weak....

Ibuki: “It’s a beautiful feeling. Unfortunately, it won’t work against me.”

Ibuki walks up to me through the sand and looks down at me in amusement.

(No....)

I tried my best to resist being picked up by him.

Yoshino: “Nn....”

The palm of his hand pressed lightly against my back, and I became numb. I felt my body slowly losing its power.

Ibuki: “I don’t mind you struggling. But I’m tired and you’re too.”

Kurama: “Let go---Yoshino!”

--------Part 2---------

Kurama: “Let go---Yoshino!”

Kurama crawls towards me on Ibuki’s shoulders and reaches out for my hand.

Ibuki: “Sorry. I gave her as a toy once, but now, I’m taking her away. I wish I could have played with you longer, but now it’s time to say goodbye, Kurama.”

Kurama: “Ibuki!”

Ibuki: “....Hahaha. I love to watch you dying with that cute face .” (For this, I can’t deny. Because when Kurama glares, it looks incredibly cute.)

As Ibuki said, the light in Kurama’s red eyes is not spoiled even at times like this.

It was glittering and glowing with rage.

Yoshino: “No! Stop---!”

Just as Ibuki raises his great sword-------

???: “How dare you make my Yoshino cry, Shuten Doji.”

Ibuki: “...!”

(This voice-----)

Suddenly, we're surrounded by blue flames and Ibuki turns around.

Ibuki: “-----Foxfires.”

Tamamo: “Correct.”

Yoshino: “Tamamo!”

Kurama: “...why are...you....”

I looked at him in amazement at how much I had missed him.

(Did you come to help...?)

Tamamo walks up to us, his beautiful silver hair fluttering.

Tamamo: “Release Yoshino, right now.”

Ibuki: “No can do, Nine-tail fox.”

With an uncanny calmness, Ibuki distances himself from Tamamo.

Ibuki: “It would be churlish to spoil the fun.”

Tamamo: “According to my aesthetics, no amount of bad taste play can disturb me. I was the first to arrive on the scene when I heard of the raid on the Imperial Court.....Following the trail of the magic, I didn’t expect this.”

Ibuki: “Oh dear, I stayed back for too long. But, how are you going to attack me when I have this woman in my arms?”

Tamamo: “Hmm...what should I do?”

He smiled and nodded his head.

Tamamo: “Let’s just make sure we don’t hit Yoshino, I guess.”

With the words, small foxfires emerge around Ibuki.

(When did you...!)

Ibuki: “Heh, you are really careful, aren’t you?”

Ibuki’s great sword swept away the blue flames that were coming at us all at once.

Ibuki: “.....!”

One of the fox fires scorches Ibuki from the front.

Ibuki: “The rest of them were illusions, huh----I hate you already.”

(Amazing! Such a skill on a spur of the moment----)

Tamamo: “Sorry, I’m so good at concocting spells, aren’t I?”

He snapped his fingers and said in a droll tone.

Then the foxfire floated in the air again......

Ibuki: “You’re blowing, you little fox. You’ll never bring me to my knees with your petty attacks.”

Tamamo: “I suppose so. Trouble is, my power is far from recovered.”

--------Part 3-------

Tamamo: “I suppose so. Trouble is, my power is far from recovered. But....”

He snapped his fingers once more, and all at once, the foxfires exploded.

Tamamo shouts to drown out the sound.

Tamamo: “You’re not the kind of lad who sleeps around here, are you? Kurama!”

Kurama: “You don’t have to tell me that!”

(Kurama....)

The wind whipped up with a roar.

Ibuki: “....You’re a dead man, you know that?”

Cut and bleeding by a blade of wind, Ibuki still smiles thinly.

Tamamo: “Are you ready to give up and give Yoshino to us?”

Ibuki: “No way. We’ll just play our trump card. Don’t just stand there and watch. Give me a hand, Yasuchika!”

(Eh!?)

Kurama and Tamamo: “.......”

In a breathless moment, the space in the shadow of the grove to which Ibuki’s gaze was directed, was distorted.

Yasuchika: “......I hope you don’t try to use it as a convenience.”

Yoshino: “Yasuchika..san...!?”

Yasuchika-san emerged from the distortion.

He had a cold face, unlike the aloofness I know him to be.

Tamamo: “I knew you would come, Yasuchika.”

Kurama: “.....”

The foxfire and the blade of the wind flew towards Yasuchika at the same time.

Yoshino: “Nn....”

The purple light spreads like a net to prevent the foxfire and the wind blade.

I found him holding a piece of paper with an intricate pattern on it at his fingertips.

(Is that...a talisman?)

Yasuchika: “Hi, Tamamo-chin and Kura-rin. Also, fox princess, how are you doing?”

Though he’s smiling, I can’t read his mind at all.

(It’s not like the fear of Kurama or Ibuki. I don’t know what to say.)

Ibuki: “Brilliant, Yasuchika.”

Yasuchika: “In Onmyoji arts, unlike the powers of demons, there is a price to pay for great skill. Ibuki. You know this very well, but you’re playing on the assumption that I’ll clean up after you.”

Ibuki: “I’m doing it for ‘him.”

Yasuchika: “I hate you, because you know I’ll shut up when you say his name....Now, let's go.”

In the next moment, the purple net changes shape like smoke.

Tamamo: “Tch...smokescreen.”

Kurama: “Wait! Give her back to me! She’s mine----”

Kurama tried to run at us from behind a thick smokescreen, but an invisible wall blocked his way.

Yoshino: “Ku..rama...”

(I wish I could be near you right now.)

I want to hold your bleeding body and tell you not to be reckless, but I can’t do that now.

Soon purple smoke blocked the view....

Ibuki: “Sleep for now.”

Ibuki’s voice rumbled inside my head and my consciousness crashed into darkness.

......................

By the time the purple smoke had cleared, Ibuki, Yasuchika, and Yoshino were already gone.

Kurama: “.............”

Tamamo: “Where are you going, Kurama?”

--------Part 4------

Tamamo: “Where are you going, Kurama?”

Kurama stands up, bleeding, and Tamamo stands in front of him.

Kurama: “I’ll follow them. I’ll follow the traces of his magic....”

Tamamo: “I’m sure Yasuchika will be well prepared. And with your body, Ibuki will finish you off....or will you risk your life and stab each other in the back?”

Kurama: “It’s better than being humiliated.”

Tamamo quietly met his gaze, which was filled with icy anger.

Tamamo: “I know it’s a lot to ask of you to endure----but, Yoshino would be destroyed if she knew you died for her.”

Kurama clicked his tongue hearing Tamamo’s words.

....................

(Mmm......)

The shock to the body wakes me up.

Ibuki: “You’re up. Just in time.”

(Ibuki! Where are we-----)

I jumped up in a panic and found that I had been lowered to the ground inside a tent.

Yasuchika: “Sorry to wake you up from your sleep, so early but I’d like to introduce you to someone.”

Yoshino: “...?”

Still, with a confused mind, I turn to the direction indicated by Yasuchika-san.

???: “We finally meet, fox princess.” (AHHHHHH MY HEART!!!!!)

(Who is this man?)

In a graceful robe and a mysterious tone.

His quiet beautiful eyes seem to draw me in as I look at him.

Yoshino: “Who are you....?”

When I ask him, he gives me a soft, languid smile.

???: “A lot of people call me Sutokuin or Your Majesty. I don’t really like it, it’s too ostentatious.”

( ‘Sutokuin’....you mean the Emperor who gave up his throne. right?”

Yoshino: “Don’t joke about it! No member of the Imperial family would be here.”

???: “That’s right too. So, will you call me Akihito?”

Yoshino: “Akihito-san?”

Akihito: “Mm. I like it. Hearing ‘san’ next to my name feels fresh. But if you want, you can call me like how you call Ibuki.”

Yasuchika: “.....Akihito-sama. We don’t have time to play games.”

(Onmyoji is supposed to be a high-status profession, isn’t it? I can’t believe that Yasuchika-san calls him “sama”)

As I looked at them in surprise, Yasuchika-san turned to me.

Yasuchika: “Yoshino-san. It’s understandable that you don’t believe us, but.....Akihito-sama is the former Emperor of Hinomoto(Japan)”

(No way...)

Still, in doubt, a new question arises.

Yoshino: “You mean...”

Akihito: “I'll be straightforward. In the eyes of the world, I should have been dead by now.”

-------Part 5--------

Akihito: “ “I'll be straightforward. In the eyes of the world, I should have been dead by now. It’s kind of like the same situation as Yoshitsune.”

Ibuki: “I think your situation is somewhat more complicated than his.”

(It’s too far-fetched to be a lie to make any sense. Then...?)

Yoshino: “Wait, if that’s true....and aside from Yasuchika-san, there is one more person responsible for all this chaos------”

I was surprised.

Yoshino: “Does that mean, the one who made a deal with Ibuki-----is you?”

Akihito: “You’re clever.”

Ibuki: “Isn’t it ironic. A man with the noblest blood in the land of Japan is bound to a demon.” (Ironic and badass!!)

Yasuchika: “It’s not the worst mistake. As for me, I’d kill that demon any day.”

Yasuchika-san replied to Ibuki with a smile.

(Ibuki made a deal with the former emperor...so he got some of his powers as well?)

Yoshino: “Then Akihito-sama....what is your purpose?”

Akihito: “Akihito-sama’...well, there’s nothing that can be done about that now.”

Akihito-sama murmured, unfortunately.

Akihito: “I’m not averse to straightforward questions. I’ve got a grudge against the whole Hinomoto. So I’m going to curse and destroy all of them.”

His voice is so soothing that I’m willing to listen to it forever.

The softness of his speech made it all the more strikingly different.

Yoshino: “....Are you serious?”

Akihito: “Nope. I lied.”

The smile on his face is both deceptive and sorrowful.

(What kind of life do you have to live to make you laugh like this?)

Ibuki: “Don’t scare her, Akihito.”

Akihito: “I didn’t mean to.”

Yasuchika: “Now that the introduction is over, let’s get to the main subject.”

Softly, Yasuchika-san interrupts us.

Yasuchika: “Have the Shogunate and the Rebels reached the battlefield?”

Akihito: “Yes. The advance team is arriving on both sides. I’ve just had private soldiers attack each end of the line and pass on the information. The Shogunate was defrauded by the Rebels, and the Rebels by the Shogunate, who broke their promise to hand over the prisoners.”

(That’s...!)

Yoshino: “Yoritomo-sama and Yoshitsune-sama will be sure of the truth.”

Akihito: “The main body will arrive a little later. Will they be able to control it all the way to the end? All we need is to make a small edge of a big crowd suspicious.”

Ibuki: “If one of us gets carried away and starts a fight, it can quickly spread to the whole of them and cause a huge fire. Because humans are cute but stupid creatures.”

Then Akihito-san turns to me.

Akihito: “What is your name again?”

Yoshino: “....Yoshino.”

Akihito: “Yoshino. I’ll remember you.”

Then Akihito-sama lowered his eyelashes as if he was slightly troubled.

Akihito: “I want to apologize to you. You can hate me all you want. One more curse on me now won’t make much difference.”

(What are you going to me....?)

Chapter 23

[furvillaconfessions]

i know i'll get hate for these opinions but:

if you offer commission updates and can't keep your customer updated on the progress, don't offer commission updates. i'm so sick and tired of commissioning people with amazing art, only to wait 8 months for my art because they "weren't motivated to draw" and yet i see them draw other stuff just fine (at times drawing stuff for themselves, gifts for their friends, etc.). i understand you might lose your motivation to draw, it's fine! but at least consider telling me about it! i'm pretty understanding, it seriously doesn't hurt to tell me what's up. no, i don't need your life story, just please keep me updated. i feel like that's not much to ask as a customer...

it also really sucks when you're promised that you'd see a sketch by the weekend, only for them to never show the sketch, so you ask about it... and no answer. you see the person online however, so... why aren't they answering? some of them might (with good luck) eventually show you the sketch, (usually not even apologizing for the wait..). it really sucks. i understand some people have social anxiety, but if you really don't like talking that much, maybe do this with minimal talking and... you know, don't say "yes i'll gladly send you progress sketches etc. via pms :)". now some of you might think the artist might be a bit forgetful and honestly, mood. but if i've asked you about it multiple times and you're still ignoring me... shouldn't you remember that you have unanswered pms by now? most people still ghost me anyway and it really sucks. i don't wanna keep on sending you messages about the commission, but you're not answering...

another related thing is when artists have their art shop thread, they put you in their to-do list and you wait for them to draw! ... only for them to never do it. so then you ask them what's up and they never answer. so... do i hold on to the payment? are you still doing the commission? hello? what am i supposed to do? just assume you're not gonna do it even if i'm in your list? please tell me what's up. i promise i don't bite!

if i commission you, i expect to get your good quality art, not something that looks half-assed. i know i worded that rudely but i'm not sure how else to say it. a few times i've found a great artist who's clearly skilled, so i commission them and then you receive the artwork and it... it doesn't look as good as their usual work. so if you're like me, you'd ask politely why the art doesn't seem to be the same quality as the artist's usual art and... they kinda got angry about that and blocked me. lesson learned, i guess. but i mean the quality difference was night and day (and i'd love to show the art vs. their usual work but i don't wish to out them or myself), so imagine this: their usual art has clean lines, pretty coloring, every detail is drawn well. what i got was drawn with wobbly lines, the coloring was off and a few (easy to see) details were missing. you could argue my character was too hard but said character is not complicated and the artist personally ok'd the character. so in these situations, what am i to do? just accept that some artists won't give their best quality when you commission them? am i not allowed to say anything about the art quality? i understand that i word things badly and sound really rude but i don't know how to word this kind of thing any nicer (so any advice is welcome).

i might seem like someone who really hates the artists but i'm not, i love seeing the amazing artists around the site! i'm just sad i've had a surprising amount of... unpleasant experiences on this site, so i've been quite scared to buy art on furvilla lately. also my wording is awful and i apologize, english is hard and not my first language.

[lifeofkaze]

An Art of Balance #9

Orion Amari x MC

 A/N: I swear @kc-needs-coffee I’m almost done borrowing KC, I just enjoy her so much xD

Warning: use of alcohol

 Word Count: ~ 2.600

______________________________________________________________ 

Chapter 9: A Knight in Shining Armour

Tired and beaten down, the Hufflepuff team trudged back towards the castle. It hadn’t taken the Ravenclaw seeker much longer to capture the Golden Snitch after KC’s Bludger had hit Lizzie. None of them was in the mood for much talking. Losing this match was a heavy blow to them.  

When they neared their Common Room, they could already make out the loud music and sound of chatter behind the narrow passage leading up to the entrance. Upon entering, they found themselves in the middle of a full-fledged post-match party taking place inside the round room. Their peers had set it up while they had been trying to wash off the pain of the loss. To the people of their House it didn’t matter if their team won or lost. They always found a reason to celebrate anyway.

Before long, Lizzie found herself chatting away with Penny and Tonks. The butterbeer in her hand spread a comfortable warmth from her stomach into the rest of her body, numbing the pain still throbbing inside her bruised shoulder.

Her foot was lightly tapping to the rhythm of the music that was blasting out of the enchanted speakers Face Paint Kid had mounted above the huge fireplace. They obscured the huge portrait of Helga Hufflepuff, who had retreated to a picture of her friend Rowena Ravenclaw near the Astronomy Tower. She couldn’t stand this ‘modern nonsense people called music nowadays’.

Lizzie had just downed the rest of her drink, when Penny nudged her and nodded inconspicuously towards one of the ledges that were protruding from the walls of the Common Room.

Skye was seated there all on her own, as had been her habit for the last weeks. She was nursing an empty mug in her hands and seemed to be brooding on something, deeply lost in thought.

“Someone should go talk to her,” Penny proposed softly. Lizzie contemplated passing on the task, but eventually her conscience got the better of her. She lifted her glass towards Penny and Tonks.

“I was going to get a refill anyway.”

She left her friends standing and made her way through the thick crowd towards the refreshment table, grabbing two fresh butterbeers before heading over to where Skye was sitting. She noticed people were giving the gloomy looking girl a wide berth and braced herself for being snapped at. But when Lizzie sat down next to her, she just accepted the drink Lizzie offered with a thankful smile.

The two of them were as used to fighting with each other as they were to making up again. There was no needs for many words or apologies. Lizzie held her mug out to Skye in a silent offer of reconciliation and Skye simply clanked hers against it before both took a deep swallow of the sweet liquid inside.

“Seems like Orion was right after all.”

Lizzie wasn’t looking at Skye as she spoke, rather staring at the bubbles rising up from the bottom of her glass. She was slowly swivelling it, watching the light from the fireplace illuminate the golden drink.

“This stupid quarrel likely cost us the match today. We can’t win if we don’t work together. It made getting our hands on the Cup just that more difficult.”

Skye chuckled wryly. “I’m always in for a challenge. How about you?”

Lizzie grinned back at her. “You know me.”

They sat in comfortable silence for a while before Skye spoke up again. “Just wish I could have shown Rath the ropes. We’ve lost more times to Ravenclaw than I care to admit.”

“I know exactly what you mean,” Lizzie sighed. “At least, KC and I can now talk to each other again like the civilised human beings we are.”  

Skye snorted. “Your choice of friends has always been questionable.” She was acting up this time, Lizzie could hear the teasing in her voice.

“That’s why I’m friends with you, I guess,” she shot back.

Both of them started giggling, all the tension that had built between them over the last weeks suddenly dissolving into fits of laughter. They were drawing wondrous glances from their peers.        

Calming down, Skye’s face suddenly grew serious again. “Sorry for what happened today. Shouldn’t have said all those things to Orion. Or you. Not a good move from me.”

“You should tell him that, not me.” Lizzie gave her a sideways glance. “I was a bit harsh to you as well. Sorry about that.”

Skye raised her mug. “Forgiven and forgotten. Glad we could solve this mess.”

Lizzie leaned closer to her. “Speaking of solving the mess…” She motioned to where Penny was standing with Tonks, watching them through the crowd. “You should go talk to her. You can’t hide from Penny forever; I’m sure you will find a way to work things out.”

Skye had suddenly gone pale, a pained expression showing on her face. “I don’t know, Jameson, you sure about this?”

Lizzie just shoved her off the ledge for an answer. Shooting another uncertain glance over her shoulder, Skye made her way towards Penny. With a relieved sigh, Lizzie leaned back against the cold stone wall, propping one foot up on the ledge before taking another sip. Finally things were starting to get normal again.

Her sitting alone didn’t go unnoticed, however. Within minutes she could spot Everett breaking from the crowd and heading towards her, fresh mugs of butterbeer in hand. Lizzie groaned inwardly. She wasn’t particularly keen on getting into a conversation with him. She didn’t mind her new teammate during practise, but Lizzie had started feeling uncomfortable with the way he had been looking at her recently.

Gulping down the remains of her drink, Lizzie tried to get up as fast as she could. But before she had a chance to escape into the mass of students, Everett had reached her and slid down onto the ledge next to her. He sat a little bit too close for Lizzie’s liking.

“What are you doing, sitting around as lonely? Fancy a drink?” He held the mug up for her to take.

Lizzie couldn’t think of a valid reason to refuse and gave in to her lot. “Sure, why not. Thanks.”

She awkwardly accepted the butterbeer, not quite knowing how to start a conversation with him. Her not being overly keen on it didn’t help either.

“You played well today,” she tried treading on safe ground. Nothing wrong with a little Quidditch talk.

“Not as good as you, though. You were fantastic!”

“Hmm,” Lizzie hummed in response. That was a flat out lie. Today had been one of the worst matches she had ever played. She had performed just as poorly as Skye and Orion had done, perhaps even worse.

Everett didn’t seem to sense her disagreement, however. “You were almost as good back when you played Beater. Crazy good aim. I could use a bit of improvement in that area.” He smiled mischievously at her. The uncomfortable feeling in Lizzie’s stomach increased.

“Maybe you could show me how, some time? So I can better protect you.”

Of course Lizzie knew he was referring to Quidditch, but somehow the way he was stressing ‘protect’, combined with her general discomfort around him, rubbed her the wrong way.

She bristled at him. “I don’t need any protection, let alone yours, thank you very much. I can perfectly handle myself,” she snapped indignantly.

Laughing, he raised his hands in defence. “Relax, kitty cat, no need to get all angry. Doesn’t suit your pretty face.”

“You want to be a better Beater? Here’s my tip for you: more practising, less flirting.” She set her drink down with a clank and got up. She had enough of his attitude for the evening.

But before she could make off, Everett had grabbed her wrist and pulled her down next to him again. Lizzie raised her eyebrows, her face anything but friendly.

Feeling the need to change tune with her, Everett ran his hand through his dark hair. “I’m sorry, don’t run away just yet,” he smiled apologetically.

Lizzie was still on edge, but her posture gradually softened again. She noticed he had pulled her down even closer to him than she had been before.

With a wink, Everett reached into the pocket of his jacket, pulling out a silver flask. The light of the fire place was reflected in it as he was brandishing it in front of her face. “What do you say? Let’s have a drink on peace?”

Her eyes followed the blinking flask as he poured a shot into his mug. Lizzie wasn’t one to object to a little extra punch when it came to her drinks but she really wasn’t interested in talking to Everett anymore, let alone drinking with him.

She shook her head. “No, I’ll pass. I’ve had plenty already. I don’t want to end up doing anything stupid,” she added lightly.

Everett’s smile grew wicked. “Like this for example?”

He quickly leaned forward, putting his hand against the stone wall next to her face, effectively blocking her means of escape. To her horror, he started leaning in to kiss her. It was all she could do to duck under his arm supporting his weight to get away. Coming so close to him, a familiar scent reached her nose, fresh and spicy at the same time. It made her hesitate for a split second.

She knew the scent, but it thoroughly confused her to smell it on him of all people. It reminded her of the component of the Amortentia she had had problems placing.

Using her hesitation to his advantage, Everett got up as well, grabbing her arm before she could dart away. Anger flashing in her eyes, Lizzie tried to yank herself free.

“Is there a problem?”

Orion had suddenly appeared next to them. He looked calm and collected as ever, but his posture was tense, the tone in his voice firm. Lizzie sent a quick prayer to the heavens for sending him along just now.

Everett didn’t seem as happy. “Nothing to see here, Amari,” he snarled, but his territorial demeanour didn’t so much as make Orion flinch.

“That is fortunate, because I am aware that McNully’s Kneazle is up in our dormitory, chewing away on your Transfiguration essay. I believe, it is due on Monday?”

The aggressiveness visibly drained out of Everett as he turned pale. “It took me three weeks to finish that assignment! I’m going to make a hat out of this fleabag!” He raced towards the round door at the far end of the Common Room and vanished behind it.

Lizzie’s brown furrowed in concern. “He’s not going to do anything to Kneil, is he?”

“Don’t worry, Kneil is somewhere in the castle, probably hunting his dinner,” Orion smirked in response. “To be honest, McNully saw Everett hitting on you and sent me to your rescue.”

“How gallant,” Lizzie giggled.

Orion wasn’t even trying to hide his grin. Instead, he nodded towards her arm. “How is your shoulder feeling?”

Lizzie shrugged it off with a laugh. “Better than Everett’s ego, I image.”

Her eyes followed the path he had taken through the crowd. “I wonder what’s been going on lately; Everyone seems to be out of their minds,” she mused.

Including her, apparently. She could still smell the lovely scent lingering in the air, just as strongly as it had been before. She fought the urge to inhale deeply.

Orion laughed lowly. “That’s how it goes. I remember my fifth year vividly. Between O.W.L.s and people getting interested in dating each other, it was… “ A mysterious smile played about his lips for a moment, amusement sparking in his eyes. “Let’s say it was a singular experience.”

Lizzie remembered what Rowan had told her about Orion having a history when it came to dating. She felt self-conscious invading his privacy like that, but her curiosity and the fair share of butterbeer she’d drunk by now got the better of her.

“So, did you get to do some?” she asked in what she hoped was a nonchalant tone.

Orion took a sip from his drink. “Did I get to do what?”

Lizzie felt herself blush, glad the light emanating from the roaring fire hid the changing colour of her face. “Dating, I mean. Did you get to go on some?”

One corner of Orion’s mouth quirked up, the mischievous sparkle in his dark eyes intensifying. His lopsided smirk gave him a totally different presence than what Lizzie was used to seeing on him. Despite herself, she found herself staring at his oddly compelling smile, quickly shaking out of it as soon as she realised.

“A bit here and there.”

He knew his ominous answer only intensified Lizzie’s curiosity. So before she could ask, he added “Nothing serious, mind you. No real commitment from both sides.”

Not satisfied at all by this vague answer, Lizzie blinked at him, now even more curious than before. It felt completely out of place discussing this topic with her Quidditch captain, but she just couldn’t resist.

“You never mentioned seeing anyone. Why did you never tell us about any of them, or bring them to one of our matches?”

He slightly shook his head, his face changing to a more thoughtful expression. “Nothing worthwhile ever came of it. And I don’t know whether I would’ve been able to balance both things at the same time. Being the team captain and just me.”

Somehow, Lizzie was not entirely sure they were still talking about the same thing they had in the beginning of their conversation. She had noticed the tinge of frustration creeping into Orion’s voice, however.

Before she could reply though, a hand snaked around her waist and Rowan appeared at her side. Lizzie let out a small gasp of pain as she rested her head on Lizzie’s injured shoulder, a girlish giggle escaping her mouth.

Although Rowan didn’t exactly dismiss alcoholic drinks as a whole, Lizzie knew her to be rather restrained when it came to drinking at parties, especially since she had been appointed prefect. It made seeing Rowan as drunk as she obviously was even stranger.

“Lizzie, there you are! I have been looking for you all over the place,” she shouted into Lizzie’s ear a lot louder than she had to. Lizzie tilted her head away from her to protect her eardrums from bursting.

“Skye has been looking for you, you should go find her,” Rowan explained, her voice slurry. She tried to talk matter-of-factly but the slight swaying as she stopped leaning on Lizzie for support vastly undermined her effort to appear sober.

Scanning the crowd, Lizzie could see Skye joking around with Tonks and Penny. Apparently, they had been able to calm the waves. It did not appear to her as if Skye was searching for anyone though, let alone her.

She started telling Rowan, but was silenced by the pointed look her friend gave her. Her eyes flickered to Orion for a moment, who was watching them patiently. The penny finally dropped on her.

“I’d better go and see what she wants then.” She winked at Orion, her hand resting on his arm for a moment. ”Thanks for being my knight in shining armour.”

She left the two of them standing, while she made her way towards her friends, the spicy scent that had shaken her earlier still hanging in the air.

[adapembroke]

Reading Tarot Like The Empress

There is a story told about the poet Rainer Maria Rilke. Finding himself in a state that we would now call writers block, he got a job as a secretary to a sculptor he admired, Rodin. (You might know Rodin but not know you do. He is most famous for the sculpture called “The Thinker,” the guy sitting with his head in his hand like he’s nursing a headache.) Rilke was young when he went to work for Rodin, but not completely inexperienced. He had a couple of books of poems under his belt already. He had even developed a style and a method. Like the High Priestess, his process was an introverted one. He looked within. Inspiration came from his inner life and memories, and he waited around the shore of his unconscious for inspiration to strike. When he went to work for Rodin, this process was failing him. He didn’t want to sit around and wait for the muse anymore. He just wanted to get to work. Rodin had a reputation for being a craftsman, for setting his mind to a project and making it without theatrics, and Rilke wanted to learn how to do that. He hoped that by spending time around the artist, he would learn Rodin’s secret and become a craftsman of words. 

One day, Rodin asked how Rilke’s poetry was going. Rilke told him about his troubles, and Rodin gave him this advice: Go to the zoo. Choose an animal, and look at it until you really see it. It might take weeks, he said, but Rilke should be patient. 

Rilke went. He chose the panther and sat in front of its cage until he was inspired to write the poem “The Panther.” When I read that poem, I see this: That man is bored. He is so tired of looking at this big cat walking back and forth in front of iron bars, he can’t stand it anymore. There is nothing else in the world but this cat and this cage. He can’t move until he really sees this thing, whatever that means. The only thing he knows is that it isn’t happening. Every once in awhile, he thinks he has a flash of inspiration, but then it vanishes, and he’s not sure of anything anymore. 

I imagine Rilke walking away from the Panther’s cage clutching the notebook that will hold the collection that he will eventually call New Poems. The notebook is ragged from his constant handling it of but the pages are blank, all except for one, and that page contains only a single short poem about a panther. 

At least, after all of that, I got a poem, he must have been thinking. 

Turning Toward The World

In Rilke’s path through the Fool’s Journey, “The Panther” is the turning point between the High Priestess and the Empress. The High Priestess looks within. Just like your eyes need a moment to adjust when you have been staring at a book for hours and then look out the window, this poem is the process of Rilke changing the focus of his vision from his inner world to the outer world. 

In “The Panther,” he doesn’t quite escape the inner world. It’s hard to tell if the poem is about the poet or the panther. 

But then something extraordinary happens. 

He conducts the experiment again. This time, he looks at an ancient, headless sculpture of Apollo and writes “Archaic Torso of Apollo.” The poem begins with the same structure, a description of the sculpture, a poetic version of the type of work visual artists do when they are rolling around an idea and make a lot of sketches just looking at what they want to draw. Instead of focusing on what he sees, though, he cheats a little and focuses on what you can’t see, beginning his poem with, “We cannot know his legendary head.” 

Then he has an epiphany: 

From all the borders of itself,

burst like a star: for there is no place 

that does not see you. You must change your life. 

His epiphany is the shock of recognition. The panther had eyes but saw nothing. The statue, despite the fact that it has no head, sees him, and in that moment Rilke’s eyes are opened, and he sees. 

What was that moment of recognition like? What burst like a star? He doesn’t say, and if you’re feeling in a particular mood you might make guesses in a certain direction. But. I’m going to take what he said about “stars” and go a bit further with it.

The process by which stars burn is called fusion. When stars burn, a practically infinite number of chemical reactions happen in which two atoms join—fuse—together and become a third thing. 

“The Panther” is, really, about Rilke. The panther is the object onto which he projects his inner world. It’s a great poem as a poem, but he’s trying to break out of that High Priestess mode, and he’s just not getting it yet. It’s still all about him. The panther is a metaphor for himself. In “Archaic Torso of Apollo,” it starts being about his gaze, and then his gaze and the statue’s gaze meet, and those deeper eyes, the ones that refused so frustratingly to open in “The Panther,” open wide in shock at the spectacle of seeing something that is not Rilke himself. In “Archaic Torso of Apollo,” he stops considering the statue as an object to play his own heart strings on and encounters it as an Other, what the philosopher Martin Buber called a “Thou.” The object of Rilke’s poem is not longer an “it,” an object to use or experience. The statue is a being with whom he can have a relationship of dialog. Rilke’s seeing talks to the statue’s seeing, and they (or Rilke, at least) find a mutual understanding. This Other sees him, and Rilke sees this Other, and, in really seeing, Rilke falls in love, and fusion happens. The resulting work is a love poem to a ruined work of art, a third thing that comes from these two seeing each other. 

The Empress Of The Senses

If you read Tarot books, you’ll be told that the Empress is about the senses. The focus here immediately goes to pleasure. You are often told to savor sensual experiences. That’s great. Sometimes when the Empress comes up in a reading, all you really need is a bath with lots of sparkly things in it. 

But there is a tradition in many cultures of seeing empresses as divine. If the Empress was a goddess, what would that mean? What if you really held the senses to be sacred?  

The senses are by their very nature an encounter with the Other. You see seagulls. You taste the bitterness of your tea. You smell the heady, spicy, slightly trippy smell of frankincense. You hear the wind blow. You feel your lover’s hand on your leg, palm up, waiting for you to take their hand in yours. These encounters, if you are vulnerable and open yourself up to them, are sacred, encounters with the Holy Other. It is through these encounters that we experience the Holy Thou.

Empathy is a high-flying abstract word that has somehow managed in certain communities to become a burden and a point of pride. A similar, maybe better, term is ”resonance.“ Resonance happens when a thing that happens to one thing also happens to another thing. Andrea Gibson captures it beautifully in her poem, “Say Yes.”

When two violins are placed in a room

if a chord on one violin is struck

the other violin will sound the note. 

Resonance an essential element in divinatory readings. We’ve talked about how to read like the Fool, how to open yourself up to enchantment while working with the Magician, and how to tap into your own intuition in the High Priestess. The wisdom of the Empress in readings is the wisdom of relationship. There’s a huge Venus glyph in a heart on the RWS card as if Pamela Coleman Smith wanted to shake us and say, “It’s about love, people!”

When I do a reading for someone, I lay out the cards or pull up the birth chart. When I first look, the symbols are just “its” to me. They’re tools for me to use to work my craft. I stare at them for awhile. I make connections. I build associations. I connect what I’m seeing with what my intuition is saying. When I’m doing a past life reading, I’m reading the birth chart specifically with the goal of figuring out what a person’s mistakes have been. I take my little candle and set out into the darkness of the human heart, but when I really sit with a chart when I’m doing a past life reading, there never fails to be a moment when I snap into Empress mode. The experience is just like how Rilke describes it. It’s like a star suddenly bursts into life. An image comes to me—usually literally when I’m doing past life readings—and I see the person I’m reading for as a person. It’s no longer about the Hermit or the Star or Judgement. It’s about a very lonely person who wants so badly to shine but is afraid of being judged. I encounter them as a “Thou.”

The Peacemaker Queen

We discussed the High Priestess as participating in the Dark Goddess archetype. The Empress is the other divine feminine archetype in the major arcana. She is the Mother Goddess, an archetype she shares with Demeter, Gaia, and the Virgin Mary.

The archetypes of the RWS are deeply rooted in the roles of Medieval Europe. In Medieval Europe, the queen had two roles. The first was to make babies for the king. The second was to be an angel of mercy. It was the special right and responsibility of the queen to show compassion. A medieval king couldn’t be merciful, even if he wanted to. It would have made him look weak, and he would have been swarmed by his lords and assassinated as soon as they could get their weapons together. The queen had to carry all of the mercy for the two of them. She could appeal to the king publicly to spare condemned criminals. She could ask him to make peace in a time of war. He could listen to her without ruining his reputation and opening himself up to attack.

Much has been made of the sexism in this role, so I won’t dwell on it here. Instead, I will point out that this role is descended from a sacred office. The right to come between two armies and stop a war was one that belonged to the ancient Druids. They had to spend twenty years studying to earn that right—which says something, I think, about how much the Celts loved war. Much of that study was in learning to divine, and I suspect that in a warrior culture, no small part of that was about learning to find the Thou in the enemy and have the courage to show compassion. I doubt the monarchs of Medieval Europe remembered this old Druid role consciously when the queens took on this role—or I doubt the queens would have been allowed to take on that kind of power—but it is there in the cultural memory, the leader whose power comes from their ability to find that which is worth saving in the heart of the criminal, warlord, and traitor.

To me, this is the heart of the Empress. It’s about looking until you really see, listening until you really hear, touching until you really feel, tasting until you really taste, and smelling until…you get the idea; and through the senses encountering another self, finding what there is to love in the Thou you’re encountering. When you do that, you’re participating in the very force that makes the stars burn.

This post was originally published on Aquarius Moon Journal on 21 March 2020.

[justdyingslowly]

1. Name justdyingslowly obviously come on

2. Nationality Australian

3. Age 22

4. Birthday nnnah dont feel like it

5. Zodiac sign (or your primal zodiac sign) Libra/Scorpio cusp

6. Gender wamon

7. Sexuality very very hetero

8. Your looks (add a picture or describe yourself) androgenous

9. What do you/did you study? Psychology (focus on sexology) and art.

10. What’s your current job like?/What job would you like to have? I am disabled you think I can work ha sexologist would be awesome. When I was a kid I wanted to be a fireman but Australias always burning

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11. Your birth order head first

12. How many siblings do you have? 1

13. Do you have good relations with your family? yeah dads finally out of his abusive relationship, nearing age 70 and his emotions and his sexuality are finally opening up for the first time and that makes me SO happy.

14. How many friends do you have? what kind of fucked up question is this.

15. Your relationship status relationshipped. Fiance? got the marriage papers in a drawer somewhere with the car rego but can’t be fucked filling them?

16. What do you look for in a SO? empathetic, mature, calm. Always open to discussion. Prefers to be blunt rather than secretive. Emotional age over 14 (incredibly fucking rare apparently). Puts an importance on context and understanding other views above all else.

17. Do you have a crush? Hellll yeah Crush on my partner and got a crush on a mutual friend of ours who don’t even know hes cute af hehe one day partners gonna accidentally spill the beans and embarrass me coz hes shit with secrets RIP me.

18. When did you have your first kiss? You think I can remember this bullshit? Its not that big a deal

19. Do you prefer serious and meaningful relationships or casual dating/one night stands? One night stand sex almost exclusively sucks. Just. SUCKS. Because neither of you know what the other likes and it ends up being an awkward mix of trying to please yourself while trying to also be considerate.

20. What are your deal breakers? Plugging your ears to anything that feels gross, uncomfortable or disagrees with you. How can you grow as a person without introspection? How can you mold what you think and believe without taking in other arguments and comparing them to your beliefs to see how they stack up? Its pathetic.

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21. How was your day? cute mutual friend had a fall this morning and were both worried about him. His back is bad and he’s getting a little older, he can’t be getting dizzy and having falls like that. other than that im anxious about seeing my gastro. He’s lovely but... specialists are specialists. Good at knowing what they know but not always great at listening.

22. Favourite food & drink you think im allowed to eat or drink? water and... foods a touchy subject.

23. What position do you sleep in? Usually on my side with a body pillow to grip so I don’t end up choking my partner in his sleep.

24. What was your last dream about? uuhhh...going to italy and being unable to get into this tiny basket boat properly.

25. Your fears does PTSD to medical shit count haha

26. Your dreams ... going to italy and being unable to get into a tiny basket boat thingy?

27. Your goals - get some sort of diagnosis eventually. Its been 3 years of trying and im tired. - get back to studying art part time for my bachelors. - pass JLPT N3. - go back to university for psychology. - do the dishes when I get home.

28. Any pets? two budgies. we also take care of any orphaned or injured birds.

29. What are your hobbies? feeling nauseous drawing writing a little bit im making a little gameboy game in C atm too

30. Any cool places in your area? i live next to a national park with waterfalls and koalas and emus and stuff

31. What was your last awkward situation? mutual friend made a comment on his chest i playfully smacked it (related to the comment) it was surprisingly hard “O-oh wow, thats... I didnt expect that” my partner laughed at me. it was awful.

32. What is your last regret? getting embarrassed at friends pecs stop making me think about it 33. Language/s you can speak english. N4 Japanese.

34. Do you believe in astrological stuff? (Zodiac, tarot, etc.) of course not what the fuck

35. Have any quirks? Quirkless. I do wiggle when im happy though apparently.

36. Your pet peeves open doors.

37. Ideal vacation spend a months chilling in an old japanese house in autumn hokkaido oooooof that sounds nice

38. Any scars? internal? yes

39. What does your last text message say? peepee poopoo ustinky

40. Last 5 things from your search history how do i find this

41. What’s your [device] background? Sam Porter Bridges walkin around Sam Porter Bridges cuddling BB-28 Louise while he sleeps my chicken

42. What do you daydream about? all might

43. Describe your dream home an old japanese house in autumn hokkaido oooooof that sounds nice

44. What’s your religion/Your thought about religion its a comforting thought having a parent-figure who cares about you and looks after all the big things you can’t manage yourself, but institutionalizing it runs a severe risk of becoming harmful cults. And it often does.

45. Your personality type me

46. The most dangerous thing you’ve done i saw the lost bunny that was on all the posters in the neighbourhood looked thin and patchy so i grabbed him to take him home. im allergic. sent me to hospital and I almost died.

47. Are you happy with your current life? feeling sick sucks and partners having a depressive episode but things are pretty good

48. Some things you’ve tried in your life living

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49. What does your wardrobe consist of? blacks, reds, whites and pinks

50. Favourite colour to wear? at the moment pink. Red is always comforting though.

51. How would you describe your style? mix between lazy alternative punk, teenager with band shirts and harajuku peach kawaii uwu

52. Are you happy with your current looks? kinda wish i was a bit shorter but what can you do

53. If you could change/add something to your appearance - impossible or not - what would it be? bit shorter

54. Any tattoos or piercings? lol no PTSD

55. Do you get complimented often? by who? partner constantly, family haha are you kidding im australian so a friend’s version of showing affection is calling you a cunt and slapping your ass in public

56. Favourite aesthetic? all might

57. A popular trend that you dislike blocking because you disagree or find them distasteful. Ignoring all context to opposing thoughts and arguments. taking a personal feeling of disgust to mean something is evil. Blocking your ears to anything that isn’t a circlejerk of what you already think - and trying to isolate anyone who even just listens to something other then the noise of your sloppy dicks to have a thought of their own.

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58. Songs you’re currently obsessed with? The Machine by Low Roar

59. Song you normally wouldn’t admit you like. why wouldnt i admit i like a song

60. Favourite genre? probably enka haha

61. Favourite artist/band/genre? probably enka haha oh and tatsuro yamashita

62. Hated popular songs/artists? why the hell would I hate something like a song? I hate aspects of the music industry as a whole I guess?

63. Put your music on shuffle and list first 5 which playlist they aren’t all together in one place

64. Can you sing or play any instruments? piano, saxophone... uh... partners good at making music and playing shakuhachi

65. Do you like karaoke? no.

66. Own any albums? yes? many?

67. Do you listen to radio? What stations? no. but triple J, ABC Jazz and Classical. sometimes they even play final fantasy and JRPG music on classical which is pretty neat. -

68. Favourite movie/series? can i make this about games because then the answer is Metal Gear Solid

69. Favourite genre of movies/books/etc ...shounen?

70. Your fictional crush/es if they’re over 40yrs old, male and happy and bubbily or grumpy and sad then there’s a big ol fat chance I wanna bone. Solid Snake from MGS4, All Might and pretty much anyone drawn by Tarou Madoromi.

71. Which fictional character is you? uh

72. Are you a shipper? List your otps, if so what does this even mean what language is this

73. Favourite greek god? idk hades seems chill

74. A legend from where you live that you like the story of Tjilbruke is funny and good. all Kaurna stories are good.

75. Do you like art? What’s your favourite work or artist? im in a big egon schiele mood atm.

76. Can you share your other social media? no i am incapable

77. Favourite youtubers? many

78. Favourite platform? not too high up. actually i like being a little lower than ground level in corners.

79. How much time do you spend on the internet? too much

80. What video games have you played? Which one’s your favourite? look i just want to say that MGS4 is the best one in the series and Death Stranding is phenomenally engaging.

81. Your favourite books (manga also counts) these are all so goddamn definitive how can I pick? Oh wait the answer is One Piece

82. Do you play board/card games? I play DnD atm and know 15 yr old rules to Yugioh

83. Have you ever been to a night marathon in cinema? that shit dosn’t happen here

84. Favourite holiday golden week coz its a week also easter because thats when all the glucose based sweets come back

85. Are you into dramas? what kind

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86. Would you use death note, if you had one? no. thats called being a murderer.

87. What changes would you make in the world, no matter how impossible, if you had the power to? chill people out a bit. when people feel unsafe they get really depenfive and territorial and block their ears to everything, making in-and-out groups for themsevles that end up putting them in more harm.

88. Could you survive a zombie apocalypse? im disabled with a disabled partner. we arent funny sure we can survive normal everyday life when society is angled so sharply against us.

89. If you had to be turned into a paranormal being, what would it be? id like to be a mimi spirit

90. What would you want to happen to you after your death? spooky time

91. If you had to change your name, what would be your pick? toshinori yagi

92. Who would you switch your life with for a week? anyone healthy

93. Pick an emoji to be your tattoo that cursed one with the intense eyes and the hand

94. Write 3 things about yourself - only one of them must be true im me im not me im pee

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95. Cold or hot? cold.

96. Be a hero or be a villain? both are distasteful ideas in reality

97. Sing everything you want to say or rhyme? i can’t do either partner speak sin bad puns and its hell, these both sound about equal

98. Shapeshifting or controlling time? shapeshifting. controlling time is eithe rmanipulative or lonely. shapeshifing is every other superpower at once.

99. Be immortal or be immune to everything aside from natural death? both are deeply upsetting ideas

100. ….. or …..? jiji or ossan? generally Jiji, but ossans can be lovely too.

[twit-moonstar]

as long as we’re together - brian may x writer!reader

N/A: This is purely a self-indulgent fic I wrote mainly for myself, but I though it be nice to share and see what happens. First half of it it’s just y/n having a crisis, tho, and the second part is like domestic fluff. hope u enjoy! comments, reblogs and likes are greatly apreciated <3

As if being an adult wasn’t difficult enough, you had the dream of becoming a published author and, before starting to try to write, you hadn’t thought about the bohemian lifestyle you would have to face and embrace.

Your parents had pushed you—well, forced seemed a more appropriate word—to study Law, but after a few months after starting you dropped it. It wasn’t what you wanted, you were constantly stressed and unhappy by the prospect of the future that waited for you once you graduated.

Abandoning your career, though, meant the extra help your parents offered was snatched away from your hands. Rent wasn’t extremely expensive—you shared a little apartment with Brian and you only paid half of it—, but you still had to buy food and other necessary things.

Without your parent’s income, you had found work as a waitress at a restaurant and started to send your short stories to some newspapers and magazines to get a little extra money.

You had been suffering from a hard writer’s block lately, though.

Rereading for the second time the paragraph that you had already written five times, you ripped off the paper and made it a bun, throwing it on the floor. A new blank sheet confronted you and you decided to throw away your notebook and pencil with fury.

You were at the edge of tears. Not even that glass of cheap wine you swallowed half an hour ago had helped you to take off the feeling of utter desperation and defeat. If anything, it had only made you feel worse.

The words your father spate at you once or twice came to your mind. ‘All writers are just a bunch of alcoholics’. He had never appreciated your art, no one on your family did actually.

They wouldn’t probably support you until they had a properly published book of yours in their hands since your short stories on newspapers did not seem to impress them.

People have the impression that anyone can write but the truth is very few can manage to write words in a way that has any meaning something. Of course, you were starting to doubt you had that kind of talent.

You check the clock on the wall. 1 a.m. Fear starts to creep from your chest to your throat where it left a lump to settle on your head at this hour, usually, if you’re not sleeping.

These quiet moments at night are where you feel the most that you will never make it, that all your dreams are not more than a little dumb girl’s dream. The letter you received today just seems to fuel that thought. 

It’s like running behind a car, you think. You can never be fast enough to reach it, no matter how fast you run. 

You look at the notebook on the floor, just a few steps ahead of where you are sitting. You need to write something and send it to the newspaper tomorrow but nothing you wrote was good enough. You needed the money. You couldn’t allow Brian to pay again for your part, he was as short of money as you; especially now that his band was spending their money in their first album.

"What are you doing?" Brian asks with his arms crossed and his head resting against the wall, one of his curls falling over his eyes, but he doesn’t bother in push it away.

You don’t dare to look at him in the eyes, so instead, you keep your eyes down. "Just writing," you mutter.

He enters the living room, sitting next to you on the sofa. "Something is bothering you, isn’t it, my love?" Brian takes a lock of your hair and puts it behind your ear, then cupping your cheek.

You lean into his soothing touch with a heavy sigh that comes from the deepest of your chest.

"I- I just -" you sobbed and Brian hugged you immediately upon realizing it, his arms drawing you to his chest and one of his hands caressing your back in circles, comfortably. He shushed softly, whispering sweet nothings in your ear, but you couldn’t hear more than your sobs drowned against his shirt.

Your eyes land on the ripped envelope on the table. You could recite the words on the letter inside by memory by how much you’ve stared at it. 

“What’s wrong?”

I’m a fucking fraud, that’s what’s wrong. What if I’m not good at writing? What if this isn’t what I was meant to be? If I’m not a writer, then who am I? But you can’t bring yourself to say that, the lump on your throat doesn’t allow you, so you just pull away and after taking the letter, you hand it to him. He starts to read with a careful expression. You recite it internally.

‘Dear Y/N Y/L/N Thank you very much for allowing us to consider your novel, which we have looked at with interest. However, I regret that we have reluctantly concluded that we could not publish it with commercial success…’

Did I waste all these years? 

“This is bullshit.”

You don’t expect to hear him curse so angrily, but his brows are furrowed and his usually soft hazel eyes are sparkling with fury.

“You’re extremely talented and your book is amazing! You spent years working on it!”

“Yeah.”

“I think it would be a fucking commercial success,” he states but you bite your inferior lip to avoid the tears from spilling. The editorial doesn’t think that way and seems like the rest of the others who received your novel didn’t either.

At least you got a response. Most people don’t even get that. 

“It’s the only response I’ve got, Bri. I don’t think I’ll ever get published,” you whisper and he throws the letter to the floor and kneels in front of you, wiping away your tears.

“Whatever. I’ve got to keep working,” you reply dryly, cleaning your face with your hands and picking up the notebook and the pen. Brian stares at you.

“No, you’re tired. I’ll prepare you a bath and then you can go to bed,” he states, taking away the notebook from your hands and you whine. 

“Brian! I have to do this!” You say furiously, but he doesn’t even flinch to your elevated tone of voice. You, on the other hand, close your eyes with regret and breath deeply.

“Bri, I’m busy. Let me alone.”

You hate yourself for asking him that because you don’t mean it. Being alone is the exact opposite of what you need, but you decide the money is far more important than your emotional state at the moment. 

You could always cry later.

“No. I know well enough to know what you’re trying to do. You’re overworking yourself while you drown on your self-pity.”

“I’m not doing that,” you say but the quickness on your reply gives you away.

“Please, take a bath,” he asks, taking your hand. 

You shrug. “I guess I could drown in the tub.”

He laughs with little amusement and leaves to return for you after ten minutes. You would be lying if you said the hot water didn’t look appealing. Brian helps you to take off your clothes and you sit on the tub. 

“Please tell me you didn’t use my oils and scents.”

“Uh, I did.”

“That was the last I had! I was saving them for a special occasion!”

“Drowning seems special enough,” he says with a shrug.

“Very funny.”

“What were you trying to write, anyway?”

“A story for the newspaper.”

“Why have you been selling your stories for cents? You know they have much worth than that,” he asks. He reaches for the shampoo, putting a bit on his hands and starting to wash your hair. You close your eyes and let him do it. Brian’s hands always find a way to relax.

“I need the money,” you reply.

“What for?”

“Rent and food.”

“Y/N, you know I can take care of it,” he says, almost reproaching you.

You feel a little uneasy before the idea of Brian paying for you, you didn’t like to ask money borrowed and less if you knew that he would be too gentlemanly to accept your money later, even if he needed it.

“We’re not a married couple in the thirties, Bri. I can’t ask you to pay for me. I don’t even know where did you get the money from last rent. I didn’t cover my part.”

“You don’t need to ask for anything, love.”

“Still, I don’t want you to do that”

“I know you just said we’re not a married couple but as long as we’re together, I’ll support you when you need me, y'know?”

Your eyes teared once again and you smiled as you tried to prevent crying again. How were you blessed with such a kind and considerate man like Brian? You were such a mess, lately, but he never backed off from being a firm yet gentle shoulder to cry on. 

“Thanks. I promise I’ll repay you,” you say. 

“You don’t have to. C’mmon, let’s get you out of the tube before you start to get too wrinkled,” he replies, helping you to stand out. As Brian leaves you to dry yourself, he gets you some comfortable clothes. Once you were dressed, you both lied on the bed, you on Brian’s arms. 

“Tell me about your day,” you said and you felt him smile against your hair. 

“We tried recording a new song today, I’m not quite sure if the name is good, though,” he commented, running his hand through your hair. You closed your eyes and let him ramble about the problems they had with today’s recording.

“You’re falling asleep already?” he asked in a whisper.

“No, I’m listening,” you mumbled but you felt yourself drifting away more and more.

“That’s okay, my love. Sleep.”

“I love you,” you mumbled.

“Love you too,” he replied and you finally fell asleep.

[writtenwinchester]

I See You || Who’s Billy Hargrove? - Pt 1

Masterlist | Send In Requests | Buy Me A Coffee

Warnings: slight angst if you look hard enough, fluff, loss of loved one mentioned, brothers being brothers, light swearing

Word count: 1718

Pairing: Winchester Sister, Billy x reader

Request: hi! i was wondering if you could do a sister!winchester where maybe they go to Hawkins for a case? the reader ends up meeting billy and they fall for each other?

A/N: I’ve decided to write multiple parts to this request, thank you and my apologies for taking so long. I’m desperately trying to get back into my flow of writing, and I appreciate all of you being so patient :) Enjoy!

~

“Where are we going again?” “Indiana, only three states over, so no need to worry.” “Only three? Dean, that’s like an eleven maybe twelve hour drive.” Your brother gave you a shrug, keeping his eyes on the road in front of him while Sam stayed glued to the book in his hand.

“What am I supposed to do for eleven n’ half hours? Suffer?” “Well, you could start by listening to some good ol’ tunes.” Dean grinned, turning up the volume as ‘Kashmir’ started blasting through the speakers. Rolling your eyes, you slumped back into your seat with a grumble. This was going to be a long ride.

For hours on hours, you listened to Dean yell the lyrics to Led Zeppelin, AC/DC, Aerosmith and even The Rolling Stones if you were paying attention. Thank god for Sam, who at least talked to you every now and then, desperate enough for even a game of ‘I Spy’. But when the time came around, the three of you stopped at a small motel for a break. The moment the key to the room was given to you, you sprinted outside, running towards the room number as you mumbled it to yourself on repeat. Grinning when you finally reached the door and entered, throwing yourself on the bed with a content sigh. Your older brothers laughing and rolling their eyes, “Didn’t you sleep the entire way here?” “Listen, travelling is tiring no matter what.” Dean shook his head, sitting on the other bed and opening up his laptop as Sam headed for the table. Your eyes eventually shut, preparing your body and mind for another long day tomorrow morning.

Your brothers dragged you out of bed, still half asleep in one of your old Ac/Dc shirts, as you thanked the heavens for being in the back seat of the Impala once more where you slept most of the way. Dreaming and keeping thoughts to yourself, majority of them being memories until you finally went back to sleep. By the time you woke up, you noticed the small sign of ‘Welcome To Hawkins’ “Hawkins?” “That’s right sweetheart, welcome to Hawkins.”

Although you were a hunter, your brothers pushed you towards school. Sam encouraged and helped you get A’s, and Dean sat with you during meltdowns or threatened the boy who only checked you out. They never wanted ‘this’ life for you. They wanted the best for you, even if they only knew you for the short period of time, the one phone call that brought you into their lives changed everything. And if your happiness meant out cuddling with a boy on his couch giggling to Looney Tunes at three am, then it made them happy too. Now, this meant school. Online, or offline. If they knew you were staying for more than a week, you were pushed to attend the school outside of the screen you were so used to. ‘To socialize’, as Sam would say.

“‘Hawkins High School’. Couldn’t they have named it something better?” You sighed, letting your hair down from the bun it was originally in as Dean shrugged his shoulders. “Can’t help you with a school name, princess.” “Y/n, it’s fine, just.. Try and talk to the witness, okay?” “Right..” letting out a small huff while Dean pointed a finger at you and winked, “I’m heading out now, should be back later tonight. Don’t do anything I would do.” Rolling your eyes, you went and sat down beside Sam the moment Dean closed the door. “Do I really have to attend school, again? It’s easier to just do it online you know.” Sam gently wrapped an arm around your shoulders, “I know it’s hard Y/n, but school’s the best option for you. And it’ll be much easier for you to be in school with Darcy rather than us talking to a teenage girl.” scrunching up your nose, you sighed. “Yeah, I know..”

Waking up to a pillow thrown at your face, was not something you wanted. In response, you groaned and threw one back. Only to earn a laugh; “Hah! Missed!” Coming from your oldest brother, while Sam laughed at the two of you while staying glued to his laptop. “C’mon Y/n, first day.” “First day of the hell hole, sure.” “Hey, all of us here have been to hell, and we’d all agree that we’d choose school.” Grumbling softly to yourself, you sighed “yeah, I guess..” Sam gently patted your shoulder, “Listen, if you leave now maybe you and Dean can stop for coffee.” “Woah, woah. Who said I was driving grumpy?” “Ha ha.” Sticking out your tongue as Dean mocked you in return from across the room. 

“Guys, c’mon. Dean, just drive Y/n and go get yourselves some coffee.” “Alright, let’s get going ken doll.” sighing, you grabbed your older brother by the arm and headed for the door. Groaning softly the moment you closed the door and looked up at the sky, praying that today would bring you at least some form of joy or entertainment.

The moment you entered the school, you wanted to just walk right back out. Although, that would leave you dealing with more grumbles and raised eyebrows from Dean, as he gave you a long lecture about boys, girls, dating, school life, and to not drop to the bottom of the food chain, as he says. 

“Excuse me,” Smiling softly, you sat down in front of a girl, she had her nose shoved in a book, and when she looked up to meet your gaze, she adjusted her glasses. “Yes?” “I’m sorry, I’m just kinda lost and not sure how this school works.” Mentally, you crossed your fingers. She looked like her, she acted like her description, but you could never properly know sometimes. “Oh.” The girl placed down her book, “I guess I can help, I’m Darcy.” Perfect.

Smiling softly, you reached out and shook her hand. “Y/n.” “Where you from Y/n?” “Kansas, I moved here with my brothers.” Darcy furrowed her eyebrows, “just your brothers? What about your parents?” “Mum was an alcoholic, not too sure about dad.” You weren’t entirely lying, there was at least some truth behind your words. “Oh, I’m sorry..” She frowned, shutting her book and pushing it aside, leaning into the conversation. “My parent’s aren’t together either.” “I’m sorry to hear that,” you frowned, but this conversation was getting too depressing for you already. Nodding your head towards the book, “What are you reading?” “Oh,” she glanced down, pushing the book gently towards you. “Fahrenheit four fifty-one.” “Ah, the book about books.” “So you’ve read it?” “Bits and pieces.” You mumbled, looking through the book as another figure came into view, sitting beside Darcy and wrapping their arms around her.

“Dar, I heard about Nathan the other day..” the two girls shared a glance, before hugging each other tightly as you sat silently, gently pushing the book away. “Sorry Y/n,” Darcy sent you a small, sorrowful smile, “someone close to me just passed away, I hate to drop this on you like that. Even though we just met.” “I’m so sorry to hear that,” you frowned, “I hope things get easier for you.” Her eyes welled with tears, “Thank you.” wiping her eyes, she whined, “Dammit.. I’ll be back, please stay here.” Darcy ran off with her friend following her lead, and your heart ached, understanding every emotion that she’s going through.

Science wasn’t exactly your forte. Hell, school wasn’t even your forte. Constantly sighing and grumbling, your eyes darting back and forth between the window and your notes. Desperately wanting to throw yourself out the window, away from this hell hole that you’d only been here for nearly half a day. Third period was killing you so much, that you were actually interested in the flirting going on between the boy that sat behind you and the girl that sat in front of you. But dear god, at some point both of them got annoying. You could practically feel this guy’s breath on your neck, and the girl kept leaning over your desk. Sighing softly, you glanced up with a small forced smile. “Sorry, I know you’re probably too self absorbed to understand, but some of us actually want an education. So if you could flirt with him later, that would be great.” The girl in front of you gave a scoff, narrowing her eyes and glancing you up and down. While the guy behind you, chuckled. 

Writing notes for science turned more into drawing doodles for the art show you were never going to have. But by the time the bell rang, a sigh fell from your lips. Relieved as you gathered your things and slung the bag over your shoulder, heading towards the door where a figure stood. A tooth pic resting in between his lips as he chewed on it and smirked, “Hey sweetheart.” Furrowing your eyebrows, you stared at the boy in front of you. “If this is about me telling your girlfriend to fuck off, I don’t care. I need to focus.” “Focus on your art, or science?” Raising an eyebrow, you grumbled, “listen, don’t bug me, and I won’t bug you.” moving towards the door, his large figure moved to block your exit. “What if I want to?” “Want to what?” “Bug you.” A small groan fell from your lips, “I don’t have time for this, and I don’t even know who you are, so please move.” The boy chuckled, “Billy, Hargrove.”

“How’d it go?” Dean hummed, pulling out of the school parking lot the moment you stepped into the Impala. “Fine, just get me out of here before I plan my own funeral.” Dean chuckled softly, Ac/Dc was already playing quietly, and you wanted nothing more than to just get back to the motel and sleep embrace you. “Did you find her?” Nodding your head, “Darcy, yes.” “Make any friends?” Your thoughts traveled back, to Darcy’s other friend, the girl in front of you in third period was definitely not your friend, and neither was Billy damn Hargrove.

“No.” Was all you said, as you looked back out the window and let the thoughts in the back of your mind consume you.

A/N: In all honesty this will probably turn into a mini series, but this is finally posted so I can stop hating myself for it. Next chapter should be posted sometime this week!

Feedback is great <3