#I want that circular art piece so bad

[eepy-pleepy]

THEEE absolute set dressing of all time

[seabeck]

FAQ + About (for mobile)

About me: My name is Milli (she/her), 25yrs. I love taking photos of nature and my Subaru. I’m a huge nerd about mushrooms, plants, and skulls. I’ve been hiking ever since I was a little kid and at this point I feel at home in the woods.

I have a flock of chickens, a boyfriend, a dog, and waaay too many house plants

Did you take all the photos on this blog?

Yep, every photo posted here was taken by yours truly unless otherwise noted (very rare).

What camera/lenses do you use? 

My crop sensor/work kit is:

Nikon D7100

10-20mm f/4.5-5.6G VR

Dolica ZX600B103 Tripod

My full frame kit is:

Nikon D850

Sigma 150-600mm f5.6-6.3 

50mm f/1.8 G

60mm f/2.8 ED Macro

Nikon 105mm f/2.8 VR G

17-35mm f2.8 

20mm 1.8 ED sold

Sigma 150-500mm f5.6-6.3  sold

Kenko extension tubes

Raynox 250

Vanguard Alta Pro 263AB (works for macro + everything else)

Filters and other gear:

Hoya circular polarizers + Stop down/up kit

Nikon camera backpack (discontinued)/TARION Camera Backpack

Instax Mini 90

Other cameras I’ve owned:

D50

D200

D3000

D7000

Here’s my lens wish list, some are on there for fun and some I actually want.

What camera gear would you recommend for a beginner?

Before you worry too much about getting the best gear, make sure you learn how to use it first. You could go out and buy the fanciest camera and lenses and still not take good photos because you don’t know how to use your camera or how to “see”. There’s also a saying, “you marry your lenses and date your bodies”. Invest in good lenses, preferably full frame compatible ones in case you ever decide to upgrade to full frame, and get a cheaper body to start. With that out of the way…

If you’re just starting out, I’d recommend getting a refurbished or used camera from the D7100+ line. They’ve come down in price as of late and are pretty solid cameras. Just make sure to check the shutter count.

I’d skip anything from the D3000 & D5000 lines. They’re not bad cameras but they do not have built in autofocus meaning they rely on the lens itself having autofocus. This isn’t horrible but it does limit what lenses you can use (and some of the lenses that won’t autofocus with those cameras are good AND cheap) and that can be confusing for a beginner.

As for a lens, a 50mm f/1.8, or 35mm f/1.8 is a great lens. Both lenses are inexpensive, have good quality glass, and can used for nearly everything. The 18-55mm lens that comes with cameras isn’t bad either. 

I don’t shoot Canon/Sony/whatever else so I can’t give any advice there sorry!

How did you learn to take photos?

LOTS of practice, I first picked up a camera back in 2013. In high school and college I took photography classes but ultimately I didn’t really learn much from them, they started at too basic of a level.

I did learn a lot about photography from taking art classes however. They taught me framing, how to use shadows/light, and movement in a photo (where does your eye travel when you view an image/art piece). My mom is also a professional photojournalist so I picked up some knowledge from her and my grandfather who’s also a published photographer.

How can I take better photos?

Again, lots of practice. Learn what every setting and button on your camera does, try different shooting modes, take the same photo at several different apertures and shutter speeds to see what changes. You can learn a lot from reading articles too but the best way to learn, imo, is by doing. Don’t worry about getting the best gear and the best camera, learn how to take photos first.

Study other photographers photos, and even paintings, and see what you like. Pay attention to directional lines and where your eye travels. Learn how to use Photoshop/Lightroom (just pirate it). Take photos in different weather, lighting, and times of day. 

What programs do you use to edit? What presets/filters do you use?

I use Lightroom and Photoshop Classic along with custom presets that I’ve made for different situations (fog, snow, etc) to process most of my images and then I make minor tweaks. A lot of my presets started as VSCO presets and then I kept the things I liked and changed the things I didn’t.

What is your job?

I’m a real estate photographer specializing in short term rentals. I love it.

Are you related to Eddie Vedder?

Yep, we’re very distantly related. Something like 7th cousins twice removed but I’ve never met him.

Can you add a photo to your print shop?

Sure! Just tell me the name of the photo (or link it if possible, I reuse a lot of names) you want added and I’ll get it up there.

May I use one of your photos?

I’m 100% ok with people using my photos as a reference for drawing/painting, I’d even love to see the result. For anything else, just shoot me an ask beforehand and I’ll let you know. Please do not repost my photos on Tumblr or elsewhere without my permission.

[inuyashamybeloved]

Front Piece Chapter 20 Sneak Peek

(AKA, in bizarro world, you get angry when your soon-to-be ex wants to give you their share of your future divorce settlement)

“What about the Ming vase?”

“Feh, I don’t really care for it.”

Kikyo huffed for the gazillionth time, setting her pen on the table and staring at the hanyo in disbelief. They’ve been going over the extensive list of items for half an hour, and, so far, Inuyasha had only claimed a handful of articles. Coincidentally, inexpensive ones and others he had bought himself for decor a couple of years ago and that he knew Kikyo felt no strong attachment to, like ancient family crests adorned with swords and shields. He also had claimed—rightfully so—everything from his studio and knickknacks from his bedroom.

“Inuyasha, what the hell are you doing?” she asked, honestly confused and mildly annoyed at his behavior, and he frowned at her in equal confusion.

“What do you mean?”

“You keep passing items! The paintings, the sculptures, everything except for what was evidently yours already. Why?”

It didn’t feel right that it seemed she was getting practically everything!

Inuyasha shrugged, not looking at her. “My apartment is big but most of the shit would overcrowd it. Besides, they’re more your style than mine.”

His eye twitched the slightest, and Kikyo squinted at the action. It was a telltale sign that he was lying.

“Bullshit,” Yura called out, mirroring Kikyo’s thoughts, “You could easily sell them if they took so much space or don’t like them.”

Inuyasha sighed, meeting their gazes before rolling his eyes. “Fine, I’m lying. Although the art pieces are your style, not mine. Why take them from you?”

“Okay, fair. But there’s got to be something you want. Besides, it wouldn’t be fair if I kept most of the items,” Kikyo said while glancing at the list, trying to find something that may appease him.

“Why? I don’t see the big deal with you keeping most things,” he replied nonchalantly, shrugging one shoulder.

Kikyo snapped her eyes up to meet his gaze, shocked at his words. “You can’t be serious,” she retorted.

Inuyasha huffed before standing to serve himself some whiskey. “Kikyo, I’m 70% moved out, my place is furnished and decorated how I like, and you were there when I got more stuff to turn it into my home,” he paused to take a swig of the amber liquid before turning to face her. “You decorated this place from day one, and you and Yura’ve been adding your touches and turning it into a home—your home. You guys put so much fucking dedication and soul into it. It would be fucking wrong to take anything that’s truly not mine.”

Kikyo stared at him in disbelief. He was crazy. Inuyasha had to be crazy, there was no other explanation for the insanity she was hearing. Beside her, Yura was gaping, wide-eyed.

“Inuyasha, half of all this is rightfully yours!” She emphasized her words with a circular motion of her hand, pointing at the ceiling. “It’s already bad enough that you won’t get your half of the house until after the divorce is settled and we sell it.”

“Yeah… about that. The house will be yours too.”

“What?!” she and Yura screeched at once, not believing the utter absurdity he had just spewed.

“Absolutely not!” she countered, standing and marching to him. She took the tumbler from his hand, left it on the coffee table, and forced him to sit down on the couch.

“Why not?”

Kikyo tamped down her urge to scream in frustration. “Because half of it is rightfully yours! Not to mention, your parents paid for half of it as a wedding gift. And you always took care of the bills and expenses! It wouldn’t be right for me to walk out of this marriage with practically everything! You’ll lose a small fortune!”

What was wrong with him?!

Front Piece on Ao3

@xanthippe-writes @shinidamachu

[mysticsparklewings]

Obscutober 2024 Day 3: Horology 🕰️

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Horology (n.)

the science of measuring time

the art of making instruments for indicating time; clockmaking

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I assume real clock-making is rather time-consuming 😉 Making a clock-making-inspired mandala sure was!

...It took more time than I care to admit to come up with that joke. At least the art turned out nice? 😅 Bad puns aside: Click the "Keep Reading" and we'll talk more about my thoughts/process for this piece ✨

⭐️ Like My Art and Want to see more of it? Here's All My Links! ⭐️

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I'm a little bit conflicted with this one, Sparklers. (But hey, at least I should be getting this one posted a little bit earlier! 🤷‍♀️ ) I am happy with how it came out, and I was pretty excited to see what I could do with the ideas of gears and metal that immediately sprang to mind for this word, however...The act of making said metal and gears ended up being a lot more trouble than I anticipated. 😅 Those emotions are so equally matched it's hard to separate them. The biggest hurdle was the fact that in order to look "right," I had to be more careful about getting curves looking circular-ish and uniform with each other. For full circles, that's generally not so bad. For semi-circles and arcs, it tends to be a big pain. 🙃

It also didn't help that I chose to make the outer ring of gear teeth a size that was really "too small" for Procreate's symmetry tool to help me out as much as I needed it too. So I also had to be more careful with those as I worked me way across what area the symmetry tool wouldn't fill in for me. The background was a bit more challenge than I expected, too. If anyone remembers how I mentioned yesterday I had decided some spot color "within" the mandala lines is okay but I still want to keep things loose: This one definitely pushed the boundaries on that. I tried leaving things more abstract, but I kept going back and re-defining certain color areas because it felt wrong otherwise.

I think that's a conflict between the general clockmaking concept and the abstract nature of how I'm approaching these prompts; Clockmaking, or at least the physical components needed to do it, is so very rigid and precise. Although, on the other hand, there's a kind of irony in that, isn't there? Since the way we humans measure time is something we made up—it's pretty arbitrary as far as nature is concerned.

...I seem to be wandering away from talking about the art and into higher concepts I am really not an expert in. 😅 Let me try to get this derailed train of thought back on track...

My point was that it felt like I needed more color, placed more carefully, to help with the definition between the different gear and cog pieces. This was not helped by how a lot of the images I kept seeing when I looked up clock/watch insides did usually have pieces that stood out because they were differently colored metal. Two related asides: 1. I apologize to anyone that does work with watch/clock components and may be getting a headache from my lack of proper vocabulary to describe said parts...Or the general lack of sense the "clock parts" I tried to draw here make compared to the actually insides of a time-telling machine. Many, many artistic liberties were taken! 2. I do actually kind of recommend looking up watch/clock insides sometime when you get a chance if you're not familiar with what that looks like; I found a lot of the pictures oddly soothing for reasons I don't fully understand. But even so—A lot of them are pretty even though I don't think they're trying to be. The screws on this one make me think of tiny gemstones! [I did consider adding some spots of color to background to mimic that jewel-like feel I just mentioned, but ultimately I didn't want to over-complicate the color palette.]

Anyway, going back to the lines/mandala portion for a moment: I knew going in that the fact I'm taking up the center for the word definitions would make a time/clock-themed one more difficult. After all, one of the primary things you think of with those concepts are the clock hands in the center of a clock face. Usually, even if you don't read analogue clocks that often that's still true!

For that reason, while I normally make the mandalas from the inside-out (aside from adjustments/tweaks that happen later), this time I started more on the outer edge. The clock hands hanging out there were still one of the very last things, but the gear teeth and general round "clock border" were the first and I more or less worked my way inward.

And at a certain point I realized so far I really just had a "gears" or industrial-themed mandala that showed no hints of being tied to clocks specifically. 😅 You can see from that, I ended up opting to put roman numerals in the 4 primary "clock" positions—12, 3, 6, 9. If I'd had room, I might have gone for the full set of 12, but by that time (ha-ha) I'd spent way too long making those four "gear spoke" semi-circle things that hang over right where most of the other numerals would go and I was not of a mind to either re-do or erase them. 😵‍💫 I then spent way too long trying to figure out how to "compensate" and fill the "clock face" just a little bit more because the big 4 numerals weren't quite enough for me. It's not very exciting but I landed on just some small lines—Tick marks, you might say. 😃 You may also notice that, true to something else I said yesterday, this is now the first example of one of the Obscutober mandalas in black rather than white. I did start out with it in white, but as I was moving into work on the background I thought the white was coming off a little too "soft" or too much like the mandala was glowing. Black felt like a better fit for the illusion of depth and the more "rigid" feel overall.

Although while I was in the process of changing the lines from white to black, I was very tempted to leave it in a half-state where some of the uppers layers were in black and the lower ones were still white. That got vetoed for consistency's sake, but it did cause me to go back and play with some of the contrast in the background a little more to kind of echo the idea.

I was also very tempted to try dark brown or sepia lines for this one, but, say it with me: I decided not to to keep things simple and consistent.

The final product doesn't necessarily look that much like what I originally had in mind...But to be fair, my original vision was pretty fuzzy. At least unlike yesterday, there isn't too much I feel like I'd change or do all that differently if I had to do it over.

I do hope I can say at least that much about tomorrow's piece—Tomorrow is shaping up to be a busy day in my offline life, so I'm a little bit concerned about how I'm going to fit Obscutober in...But that's a key point of the challenge, right? 😅

There's definitely a joke in here somewhere about "use your time wisely," but I can't quite put it together, so you Sparklers will have to think on it and let me know if you can figure one out. 😉 Until tomorrow, Sparklers... 🤗

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See the Prompt List

Artwork  © me, MysticSparklewings

Obscutober Concept Inspired by nikolas_tower

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⭐️ Like My Art and Want to see more of it? Here's All My Links! ⭐️

[sabrinatvband]

Notes on Comic Art #1: Jim Shooter, Jack Kirby

A few years ago I was reading Jim Shooter's blog and he was talking about a comic he co-wrote for a short-lived company called Broadway Comics. The book in question, Fatale, was illustrated by JG Jones.

I found the art in these pages incredibly appealing; while there's a certain stiffness to the figure drawing, the characters all exist within a space. There are few panels with no backgrounds, perspective is being used, etc. The coloring is also great, but that's mostly besides the point here.

I found JG Jones's artwork so strong here that I eventually decided to buy a copy of Millar's Wanted, even though I don't like Millar, because I don't think I understand DC lore enough to read Final Crisis.

However, I eventually watched a Cartoonist Kayfabe video about a different comic Jim Shooter wrote and noticed something . . .

It has the exact same sensibility, and it's drawn by a different artist, David Lapham. And so it's clear that, to some large degree, Jim Shooter's editorial hand is guiding the artwork here.

Jim Shooter wrote a bunch of different pieces about different facets of comics craft, and one of them is about inking. He says a few things that I think explain the mentality of this artwork; I've trimmed this down slightly:

Creating the illusion of depth. Depth is the key to clarity. Inkers control black, white and gray, that is, the extremes of VALUE, lightness and darkness, and to some extent, gray, the middle ground. Value—lightness and darkness—is THE most effective tool for creating the illusion of depth.

The basic “atmospheric” progression of values is from dark to light. Dark values on things close are very dark. The mountains in the distance gray out and almost blend into the sky.

So dark, lighter, lightest, natural “atmospheric perspective” is a commonly seen value progression. Doesn’t have to be three planes, foreground, middle ground and background. Could be as many as you want.

The important thing is to separate planes—even if the planes are only feet apart, you have to create progression/separation. Check out Woody’s work, and Eisner’s and Kubert’s.

You have to be a picture maker. You can’t ink a panel a piece at a time. First, you’ve got to study the pencils and PLAN how you’re going to use value to ORGANIZE the illustration to make it read, make it have the illusion of depth.

Someday, I will find the guy who invented the expression “spotting blacks,” and kill him with my shoe. Spotting blacks—scattering black areas around the panel stupidly? WHAT?

There are people who should know better who advocate making an “interesting pattern,” an “abstract design” with the placement of black areas in the panel. They are insane.

Even the great John Buscema, in How to draw Comics the Marvel Way says that crap!

John seldom inked, but when he did, he never sabotaged his art by destroying the depth by “spotting blacks.” He knew better. He was a great artist. If he had lived during the Renaissance, he’d have given Michaelangelo a run for his money. Yes, I’m serious.

Don’t spot blacks. Make depth.

So, the tl;dr / explanation is that Shooter believes each panel should have depth, and that thinking in terms of more circular compositions by "spotting blacks" is bad practice in his eyes.

[A composition with a lot of depth can also have a circular composition, Shooter mentioned nothing about circular compositions, and some of the panels above, in fact, have circular compositions, but we'll circle back to this later.]

Anyways, watching that Cartoonist Kayfabe video, I began to notice that the artwork in that David Lapham book starts to look very bland after a while [let's not blame Lapham]. In small doses, such as the single pages above, the book looks incredible. When looking at the entire issue, the lack of dynamic compositions starts to really stand out.

There is definitely such a thing as being too dynamic; look at Spawn, Youngblood, etc, to see what I'm talking about. Too many extremely wide or tall panels, too many figures bursting out of panels, too much extreme perspective [that usually is also completely incorrect]. I definitely prefer the look of the Shooter books, but there has to be a middle ground, right? After all, I'm working on a book that uses six panel grids right now, and so I'm obviously concerned about how my own work looks.

In the aforementioned Cartoonist Kayfabe video, one of the guys mentions that Jack Kirby also used six panel grids, and so let's quickly study some Kirby to see what makes his artwork look so compelling. Some of these are pictures I took with my phone; I tried perspective correcting them the best I could but they're not perfect. I took these pictures all the way back in 2016, but I guess I could never think of how to write about them without using different artwork as a point of comparison.

Here's an OMAC panel. Brilliant circular composition; the guy in the green is overlapping with the other guy on the right, creating depth. The three figures are standing in a triangle. Tech surrounds them in a circle. There are what could be considered "spotted blacks" on the floor. What's interesting is that, in many ways, this is not unlike the Shooter-dictated panels from earlier on an ethos level; Kirby is not breaking any of Shooter's rules.

More OMAC. This is eyeballed, but in essence this is a one-point-perspective composition. We can see some furniture and a plant creating the foreground. The computer on the right is balanced by the figure in the center and OMAC on the left. What I think really creates a certain sense of immersion here is that the hallway has an L-shape, which makes the reader imagine what's going on beyond that curve.

Here's something from Madbomb, a 70s Captain America story. Captain America and The Falcon interacting with the bars of the cell create some depth, as does the perspective of the cell itself. The wall to the far right makes it clear the hallway is very wide, and the soldiers marching add not only depth but also some movement and interest. 70s Kirby is underrated; he was a fucking genius here.

Here's an early Fantastic Four panel, before Kirby truly hit his stride as an artist. There are only two planes here; Doctor Doom and the computer he's looking at. Does that make this a bad picture? Absolutely not; I think the fact that Doom is interacting with the computer really enhances things, but really the entire 75% rightmost portion of the composition is perfect [the imperfect picture / gutter warp maybe is shaping my opinion too much here].

This is from an adaptation of The Black Hole, which came out in 1979, so this is very late-period Kirby. Still a masterful composition; the three L-shaped tubes create depth, the guns in the foreground create depth and dynamicism, the end of the hallway establishes yet more depth. Once again, this all feels like stuff Jim Shooter was advocating for.

Here's a panel I've already talked about from Captain Victory, one of the last big comics Kirby ever did. What do I even need to say? You could hang this thing in a museum.

I've noticed something about all of these pictures; they aren't really too different from the JG Jones and David Lapham pictures from earlier. There are more black areas, the coloring is different, the figure drawing is certainly less realistic. But these still, on a more fundamental level, feel similar. So what's going on here?

Well, there's a certain level of bias here; I selected all of these pictures, and I selected them years ago, so none of these choices were shaped by me deciding to write this piece. I truly am very attracted to these kinds of compositions.

The other thing is that they don't acurrately reflect the full Kirby reading experience. These types of panels are not uncommon in Kirby's work, but he did a lot of other stuff too. Let's see all of the panels I didn't include, that you're not going to find in those Jim Shooter books. I didn't feel like opening my books and taking more pictures, so these are all images I found online.

Here's another panel from Captain Victory. After a certain point in the 60s, panels that were literally just someone's face became increasingly common in Kirby's work. I don't think anyone else does these kinds of panels, and if they do, it's always a Kirby homage. I feel like these panels usually had the face at a 30 or 40 degree angle, but for whatever reason this one is very straight.

Even when Kirby had people talking, he could still get extremely dynamic, without the artwork becoming confusing or exhausting to look at. Look at how close the "camera" is to Captain Victory's face, and from a low angle!

Here are three panels from Sky Masters, inked by Wally Wood. First panel and third panels are very tight while still giving some kind of indication about where the characters are. In the middle we can see one man behind the cylinder, another infront, and an arm coming from outside the panel, signalling there's more than what we can see.

I've deliberately been avoiding highlighting Kirby fightscenes here [as well as his two page splashes], because while lessons can certainly be learned from fights and applied to more normal scenes . . . it's just very obvious why Kirby's the best at this stuff. Look at Namor fucking slam Tony into a wall.

I think the takeaways are obvious here; the Lapham and Jones artwork from the beginning is great, but these more dynamic Kirby-type panels need to be sprinkled in to create visual interest across an entire book. And as I demonstrated, despite Kirby's reputation for dynamicism, a large chunk of a given Kirby book did resemble the Shooter-dictated stuff from the pages I showed, just, once again, broken up with different things.

I'm trying to downplay the more base aesthetic qualities of this artwork as well, because I don't think the Shooter edited books from the beginning are poorly drawn by any stretch of the imagination. But it does need to be said that Kirby was a better artist than Lapham or Jones. Sure, both of those guys are probably better at drawing normal objects like lamps than Kirby, and they certainly are better at doing mathematical perspective. But you've looked at Kirby's work; it's so stylish, has so much character, so much energy, while also being completely legible. Kirby was the King.

[stormxpadme]

Whumptober 2024 No. 11 - Loneliness

06/10/2018

There were certain places in this mansion where Logan usually didn't expect to see his daughter. Therefore, it took him longer than usual to find the girl after the just as long and fruitless debriefing earlier.

Even when the delicate scent of her favorite shampoo – lily blossom – led his steps to the upper part of the house, he could only be certain when he heard the soft, hesitant sounds of a piano coming from the studio just below the gables. It seemed that his little firebug had been secretly working on something in the last few months that he hadn't been expecting.

Noemi's life was actually too cramped for new hobbies. It was an unusual sight to find her at the old, somewhat out-of-tune piano, of all things, an image that evoked a peculiar kind of pride, the way she was sitting there, highly concentrated, her gaze fixed on her long, slender fingers, the row of keys. Including a small selection of the latter that were moving without a hand hovering over them.

Logan couldn’t help but smile, silently remaining in the doorway with his arms crossed for the moment.

In such moments, a passion emerged in Noemi that he had already loved very much about her mother. And as always, his little redhead wasn't content with just trying something out. She immediately started experimenting with it, and Logan had to admit that the additional sounds generated by her telekinesis didn't sound half-bad. If there had been anyone out there in the world of intolerance and fear who would have been interested in the art of a mutant, the girl would have shone with it at every talent show. At some point, when she would have had more practice and had stopped making so many mistakes.

But these little flaws mixing into the simple, cheerful piece, somehow even calmed him. He didn't need superhuman perfection around him. Supernatural powers had taken the only woman from him he had ever loved in the part of his life he could only remember.

Noemi, naturally, didn't see that quite so chill. After she had done a somewhat more demanding passage incorrectly for the third time, she took her hands off the instrument in frustration and turned to him with an elegant swing on the circular chair, grinning sheepishly. “Harder than it looks. I had a teacher in the Danger Room show me. Sorry, I know you don't like background noise not coming from the TV.”

Logan waved her off, no more than a brief tilt of his head. They didn't need big gestures or words between them. For that, they knew each other far too well, and their mental link worked too well for that, too, in case the use of the latter was necessary, and even that was rare. “Sounded fine to me. You can do whatever you enjoy, redhead. Just because I'm not a fan of noise doesn't mean you have to stop making it.”

It was nice to see her smile; that definitely happened too rarely lately, and she wasn't talking much about what was on her mind right now. Even though Logan didn't like to admit it to himself: Slowly but surely, the kid was starting to spread her metaphorical wings. That was alright. Noemi was no longer 10.

He had taught her as much as he'd been able to, to survive out there. And nothing would ever change about every bastard in this sick world losing a few essential body parts for threatening his daughter. But it was reassuring to know that Noemi would hopefully be able to get by on her own, even if the two of them would no longer spend 24 hours a day together. Still ... He couldn't deny a little melancholy over his almost grown-up, talented daughter no longer needing him half as much as she'd used to. Christ, this house had left its mark; now he actually was getting sentimental. Enough of that for a year or so.

If Noemi had wanted to, they would have talked, sure, but there'd already been enough crap for teenage ears discussed today. If Noemi was looking for a little distance to that in particular with such mush of all things ... There were worse things to endure. Logan didn’t want her to feel, she had to flee her apartment because of something like that.

And since his last Harley, there hadn't been any useful purchase in his household anyway. “You want one?”

Noemi looked both surprised and touched. ”Not worth my laziness, I'm afraid. This does just fine.” Lightly, almost lovingly, she let her fingertips graze the black wood, her gaze wandering through the brightly lit, mirrored room, the large windows, the outdated drums in the corner, an amplifier and microphones that had probably last been used in Kennedy's time ... Creative talent wasn’t something practiced a lot in this house, no, yet Noemi seemed to have fallen in love with this junk for some reason. "There's so much in the air here, you know ...” She looked back at him shyly, probably expecting him to laugh at her, and searched for words when he gestured for her to continue. She started playing again, but this time it was a much calmer piece, with some jazz elements. If he put his natural reluctance aside for a change, he could admit that it sounded beautiful. “In rooms without people, I often feel something like echoes of emotions, of all kinds. I can't explain it. But I like to think that every soul leaves behind tiny traces of its deepest feelings, like a fingerprint. In here ...” She paused, and this time her smile was dreamy. “There have been so many wonderful songs and experiences here in the past. That love, it's like glitter in the air. I'm sorry.” The skepticism must have shown on his tortured grimace. When their eyes met, Noemi laughed brightly, embarrassed. “Romantic, hypothetical nonsense, I know. Let a girl dream.”

Logan suddenly felt the urgent need for a cigar. “This is Scooter's and Cat's dancing room, Red. I try to think about romantic encounters of any kind in here.” He did not mean to; after all, this was still his innocent little girl he was talking to. But his eyes were magically drawn to the old black leather sofa in the corner.

Now it was Noemi who made a face as if she had tasted a lemon. “Don't put images into my head if you don't want them in yours, James.” They exchanged an apologetic smile. Noemi pretended not to have noticed his flinch at her little tease in the shape of his past name, and he tried to suppress the fact that Jean had also loved to call him it when they'd been alone.

“I got enough to do trying not to picture what you're up to when you don't show up at home after dinner. I mean, you have been spending the last few nights at Ororo's again, haven't you?” Only after a few quiet, relaxed minutes, during which Noemi got better and better at this new, catchy song, did she speak up again.

Logan focused on a few deep drags on his cigar before answering. This, too, wasn't exactly a topic he wanted to discuss in detail with his – still underage – daughter. Whenever Ororo had been awake during these last few difficult nights, after this new low blow in Alaska, their conversations had mostly been about work, but his instincts hadn't been able to ignore it either, whenever there had been that slight fragrance of adventure and the desire for shallow satisfaction in the air. There'd been no reason to, either, there rarely was. But that was anyone's business but his old friend's and his. “This thing with Jericho has thrown her off course. In times like these, she sleeps better with company in her apartment.”

“And in her bedroom, right? Come on, like that's a secret.” Unfortunately, his daughter was too curious to be satisfied with an evasive answer. “After all this time, why do you two still make such a mystery out of this whole thing? You like her, and she likes you, right?”

Slightly at a loss, Logan rubbed through his beard. It seemed, he'd been a little too careless about discretion regarding certain convenient things in his private life. He didn't invite people into his bedroom by nature whose scent he couldn’t stomach; therefore, it had been easier, sticking to what worked ever since Ontario Lake. He'd had enough of nameless adventures that had left a bad taste in his mouth for days, in his time on the streets after Weapon X. And his interest in bonds of any kind outside his family and his team had hit rock bottom 18 years ago already. It was simply practical to have someone you didn't need to bring chocolate and beer to get things going and who didn’t expect anything afterward either. Unfortunately, certain people in this house seemed to misunderstand that again and again, even those who should actually know him better. “Would suck if we didn’t, working together in a team and all, yeah.”

Noemi's eyebrow suspiciously lifted in amusement. “Then what? You need help asking her out on a real date for once? I'm not exactly an expert on that myself, but I'm sure Sassy has tips for you.”

Logan sighed. Fine, no excuses then. After all, it wasn't as if his dear offspring lacked certain education, not least thanks to the extensive pedagogy skills of said casual affair in his life. “I don't think much of bullshitting you, Red. That already didn't work so well when you didn't have control over your powers yet. But things between Ororo and I have never been on a level because of which you need to fear having to call someone 'Mom' anytime soon. And neither she nor I have any interest in changing that. Sometimes all you need is a warm body next to you to deal better with all the shit going on out there.”

“Hey, no need to apologize for that ...”

"I'm not. No one in this household is a catholic," Logan replied a hint more cynically than necessary. "Which is better anyway as Alaska has just taught us. To that, Ororo would agree too, just saying."

”Not only to that, I figure." Noemi didn't seem particularly impressed by his sober assessment. "All I wanted to say is: Maybe this whole thing will turn into something more than you think, and then you don't need to be afraid that I'll end up crying in protest on the convenience store aisle. As long as you keep doing what you do at night somewhere where I can't hear, you can say I do for all I care.”

Logan formed a round smoke ring of routine with his lips to have time to think of an appropriate reply. “Is that what you want?” Why didn't all those clever guides that Scott had forced Logan to study after Jean's death, to prepare for his extended teaching duties, get one ready for that kind of conversation?

Then again, Noemi wasn’t like other kids in many regards, and she had never been allowed to learn how important she had been to her actual mother. There was nothing Logan could do to change that; he'd realized that early on, and on many days, that wasn’t easy to stomach. Promptly, Noemi took her hands off the keys so abruptly that they resounded with an ugly, crooked note. The relaxed mood was gone in a flash. Now it was piercing, serious eyes that bore into his, a familiar, beloved touch in his soul that saw through him without pressing him. “What I want is for you to finally stop being lonely, Dad. You've been there for me every day of my life. You stayed here, even though everything reminds you of her, just so I could grow up in a safe environment. Searching for your past, you almost gave up on completely, too. You sacrificed everything for me. Now I want you to be able to enjoy your life again.”

“I'm good, Red.” The dull reply came from his lips before he could regain his composure and think of a better one. What a joke. There hadn't been a day in his life since Jean's last death when he had been good.

“Like you said ... You can't bullshit me.” The piano lid was slammed shut with an ugly cracking sound. This unpleasant point in their conversation, they didn’t reach for the first time; having a similar temperament did that to you. There were far worse things to endure. Tomorrow evening at the latest, over a glass of whiskey and tea, they would laugh about the whole thing ... That was at least what Logan thought until Noemi fully turned his way and all but hatred shining from her eyes hit him in the shape of deep blackness via their link, too. Hatred for Jean. “This will never stop, will it? This is obsession, and you can't even see it.”

“Says the one who goes into battle with nothing but wings on her upper body.”

“I don't take fashion advice from guys in yellow spandex,” Noemi hissed, sounding honestly offended.

“Stretchier. And cheaper to replace if you catch a few bullets or blades every other week. You should give it a try, Red. Saves you from having to telekinetically tug at your top all the time. That's a waste of energy that you will regret at the latest at some point if you get caught up in a nonstop real conflict for days. And the message that you don't give shit about your mother's memory, has come more than across to everyone by now,” Logan added harshly. No, not even one of these teasing and more often than not useful discussions about their work could bring back the loving levity into the conversation, in the face of this one worst topic, which was once more in the air – between them, without either of them wanting it to. Apparently, with these mutant-hating psychos who had offed Jean showing up again, it was time to set a few more things straight without any sugarcoating. “She's a part of me, Noemi. That'll never change. I've never asked anything of you but to accept that.”

An almost scornful snort came from Noemi's aggressively tightened lips. Within seconds, they were back to the point where they would soon be shouting at each other if this went on like this. And even with all his stubborn ignorance, Logan couldn't ignore the sadistic, satisfied chuckle behind his forehead at such moments, right where the link to Noemi was. A chuckle that went right through both their souls, even though they never would have said it out loud for fear of what the answer would be. “That woman has cursed you, Dad. She'll haunt you for another hundred years if you let her.” With her arms crossed tightly, Noemi had leaned back against the piano, her jaw thrust forward, just waiting for a snappy retort so the argument could really begin. So that she could take out her anger and frustration on someone, which in truth was nothing more than sadness and loneliness anyway, radiating off of her lean shape in waves, salt and acid in the air irritating Logan's senses.

Logan swallowed away what he had actually wanted to say. He would not fight with his daughter on Jean's grave, no matter how much Noemi – or maybe someone else – wanted to provoke it. In this regard, he was once again glad about Ororo's support over the years. Being Phoenix' daughter, Noemi had never had it easy, but in this particular aspect, he just couldn't help her. “I don't expect you to understand her, Red. It took me years before I was even remotely able to. I'll let you handle her your way and you do the same, alright?”

For a moment, it looked as if Noemi wasn't going to give in, but then her tense posture collapsed and she closed her eyes as if that would belatedly also have helped hiding the smell of her tears in the air. Nothing would change. As long as the two of them didn't let some invisible person come between them, they could live with it. And that, Logan had always been able to prevent, fortunately, not least thanks to Ororo's support. Now, too, it only took a brief moment to catch her breath before Noemi could smile again, even though it looked a good deal resigned. “I'm sorry. You know I love you, Dad.” He only had to reach out his hand a little her way and she was already wrapping her arms around his neck, wiping the small traces of her sadness on his shirt and clinging to him for long seconds until her breathing had calmed down for good.

And he held her tight, as he always did, with the same deep, unconditional affection that he had once felt for her mother, which flowed between them like a warm, spicy gust of wind. Which accompanied the close, comforting and reconciling touch, without him having to say anything that he had rarely uttered in his life. Noemi knew anyway, or at least he hoped so. He startled as much as she did when she suddenly backed away and followed her glance to the window questioningly, to the beginning darkness outside.

“I feel something ...” she murmured absently. ”Can you wait a second? I'll be right back.”

“Nonsense.” Smiling, Logan brushed back a few of her wild curls and released her with a quick kiss on her forehead. ”Take your time. You don't have to keep a bitter old man company every night.”

Maybe Noemi had secretly read his mind a little earlier after all, or he really needed to learn to control his face again. She didn't smile back. She suddenly looked as serious as he had rarely seen her, even when dealing with her team. Her fingertips dug almost painfully into his shoulders. The unbroken determination, the fighting spirit in her eyes held his gaze, as if she were fixating it telekinetically. “I'll always come back to you, Dad. Me, you're not gonna lose.”

Logan shook himself a little to get rid of the sudden gloom in his soul. Not today, not after they'd almost already come to blows a minute ago. He nodded outside, sending Noemi to whatever it was that had caught her mental eye. He had a vague idea what it was, and for that, she wouldn't need his help. For one day, she had been reminded of her difficult fate often enough. Distraction was the best medicine for that. “Go.”

*******************************************************************************

@whumptober | @whumptober-archive

[pbandjesse]

I do not feel well at all. I am very worried how sick at feel. I deteriorated so quickly and that makes me very nervous. This sucks.

I slept okay but I woke up with a lot of trouble breathing through my nose again. A combination of the air and the dust. I was not feeling great. But I had things I wanted to accomplish. So I forced myself up.

The big problem I needed to attack was the bed. We are moving it tomorrow and this bedframe, from my memory, is a hassle.

But it was actually worse then my memory. The last time it got out together, this apartment being the 3rd apartment it lived in, so many of the bolts and screws became completely stripped. Just horribly stripped and circular. I was so disheartened.

In the end I would figure out a. We plan. Taking it apart from the other side and that went smoother. Except there was a screw with a broken off head. And three screws that went in crooked and were half impossible to get out. I have to use vice grips for both instances. It was incredibly frustrating.

It also didn't help how dusty the ground was. But after an hour of work I was able to get the bed into 5 manageable pieces.

I had my leftover pasta for breakfast. Which didn't heat up as well as I had hoped and wasn't amazing. But it was something and gave me some energy to do the art I needed to do.

Next weekend I have the paint along with the national guard and I had wanted to get the under drawing done yesterday but the canvases were at the new house. So yesterday I grabbed one and was able to get the drawing done pretty quickly. I would paint it at Collington.

After packing a few totesbags and collecting some large stuffed animals. I headed over to the new house.

I was starting to feel not great. I just kept repeating "I am not feeling good" and frowning. To the point I was almost crying. But I had things to do.

Thankfully I was mostly alone on the road. And got to the house without issue. I brought my stuff inside and felt a little winded but I would be pretty productive.

I hung up the pretty good mirror over our fuse box. So it's accessible but I don't have to look at it. James let me know they ordered our couch. And so I put a few more things away in the different rooms.

I hung a few things upstairs and unpacked the bags. I was there for a few hours. But I was hungry and decided a sandwich would help.

By the time I got to Wawa I was laying down over the center cup rests, I felt bad.

I got my food. I thought it would fix me. It did not.

I am shocked I was able to hold it together to get home. I was only crying a little. When I got back here I put the mattress in the ground and put blankets on it. I honestly barely had the energy but I knew I had to.

And by the time I was done I was shivering and feeling so cold. The blankets weren't helping. Sweetp laying in me helped a little.

I fell asleep until 5. And when I woke up I felt even worse. James was home and put their cold hand on my cheek and that felt amazing. But I still felt so bad. My whole body feels bruised and I feel so weak all over. I could cry I'm so uncomfortable. I am incredibly nauseous and I just want to go back to sleep.

James cleaned the bathtub and is doing laundry. And while they are waiting for the clean clothes they went to get me a little ice cream and some medicine. Fingers crossed it helps.

Tomorrow we are getting a u haul and hopefully getting a lot of this stuff over. But I'm very worried about how weak I am feeling. And my ability to help. Fingers crossed this is just a quick bug because I feel very scared.

I love you all. Send me good vibes.

[louis-arssets]

25 Days of Drarry - Day 12

Day 12 of 25 Days of Drarry

Prompt L -- Mulled Wine in a Copper Saucepan

Image Description: A round copper saucepan sits on a light-coloured, woven hessian trivet, on a worn wooden table. The saucepan contains a dark red liquid, and has several circular slices of orange and a star-anise floating on the surface. Two grey ceramic mugs are stacked inside each other to the top-right of the image, the upper mug is filled with red cherries.

Tags: Friends to Lovers, Getting Together, Snogging, Boys Kissing, Pansmione, Blairon, Misunderstandings, Fluff

Read more under the cut or here on AO3.

The Christmas party is in full swing already but Draco keeps on lurking in the back of the living room, trying to be unnoticed. He didn’t even want to come but since Pansy is one part of the hosting pair he kind of had to. If he didn’t want to die a tragic death, that is.

Pansy is nowhere to be seen, she vanished from Draco’s sight, not a minute after she let him into her and Granger’s flat, muttering something about getting the mulled wine ready. Well, it is ready now. Draco can see several bowls, filled with the red wine and orange slices, standing on the big kitchen table that Pansy and Granger had carried into the living space and now use for the buffet. Next to the mulled wine, there are also pieces of gingerbread, pizza slices formed as Christmas trees, salads, breadsticks, and some crisps and cookies for snacks.

The flat is packed, with Granger having invited all of the former Gryffindors and the odd Ravenclaw and Hufflepuff. Pansy, of course, had invited the Slytherins, but since only a handful had come back to eighth year a few years ago, their group has sized down by a lot.

Not that that is a bad thing.

After the war, Draco felt like all of his fight has left his body and he remained a little… empty. It was part of his probation to go back to Hogwarts to finish his Newts, so that was what he did. He started the year by apologizing to everyone who would listen to him and then kept to himself, only ever talking to Pansy or Blaise once in a while. Otherwise, he remained in the library or visited Madam Pomfrey in the hospital wing since he wanted to study the art of healing. She always tried to convince him to be part of the eighth year group which, surprisingly, formed pretty quickly after the start of term. After that they were pretty tight-knit, studying together, partying together, and all in all just trying to enjoy one normal school year in their life.

The only other person who was not part of that group since he didn’t come back to Hogwarts was Harry Potter. Draco doesn’t really know where he went during that year, some said he was already working undercover for the DMLE, others argued that he was away traveling. If Draco really thought about it, he was sure that Potter didn’t need his Newts anyway. He was rich, he was the savior. If he wanted to have a job he would get one, no matter how educated he was.

Someone bumps into Draco’s shoulder, nearly making him spill his still-full glass of mulled wine.

“Sorry mate,” none other than Ronald Weasley grins at him, cheeks flushed and hair mussed. “Didn’t see you there.” He doesn’t stop for a chat, which Draco, of course, is grateful for. He doesn’t want to be involved, especially not with a clearly intoxicated Weasley. After a few steps though, Ronald stops and turns back around, a questioning expression on his face. “Have you seen Blaise by any chance?”

It seems like his red cheeks get even redder, however that is possible. Draco shakes his head slowly. “No, sorry. Haven’t seen him all night.”

“Hm,” Ronald nods. “Tell him to come find me, if you see him?”

“Sure,” Draco easily agrees.

“Thanks mate!” Ron shouts enthusiastically and promptly pulls Draco into a one-armed hug. “But don’t tell him I told you that. He might think I want to meet him, ya know?”

Draco, thoroughly perplexed just keeps on nodding and Ronald vanishes in the crowd.

“What was that?” he asks himself and shakes his head. He didn’t know that Ronald was… interested in men? Much less Blaise? But does it really surprise him? After Pansy got together with Granger of all people? Probably not. Apparently, there’s some greater force having fun pairing Gryffindors with Slytherins. As if that made any sense.

*

Harry’s been at Hermione’s Christmas party for less than ten minutes and he already feels intoxicated by just breathing in the same air as his clearly drunk friends.

“Try the mulled wine, it’s a secret recipe!” Pansy had yelled at him when he’d just crossed the threshold to her and Hermione’s flat.

“Sure,” he had replied and that was apparently enough for Pansy since she nodded in reply and then promptly turned around to do who knows what.

Harry grins. Even though it’s still a bit new for him to be around the Slytherins all the time, since he hasn’t attended eighth year, he definitely likes the development. They are a fun group of friends to hang out with and he sees how happy some of them make his best friends. Hermione being the best example but closely followed by Ron. Even though his best friend doesn’t admit it, Harry knows that he’s hopelessly in love with Blaise Zabini and if Pansy was to be believed, and as the queen of gossip one definitely should believe her, Blaise felt the same about Ron. So it’s only a matter of time before those two finally make it official. When Harry turns to his right to check out the buffet table he notices Ginny next to the kitchen door, wildly snogging Theodore Nott. Another one captured by a Snake. He chuckles a little and continues to move over. If this is the result of having a bit of mulled wine he wants to have a taste. Even though he doesn’t have a Slytherin to snog or fancy. And maybe that’s a lie.

*

Well, that was fast, Draco thinks and quickly leaves the guest bedroom again. He just wanted five minutes to himself and thought that this room was his best chance. Turns out that Blaise and Ron were quicker and are now in the middle of something involving very little clothing. They hadn’t even noticed Draco which was probably for the better.

He turns around and crosses the hallway to the loo, hoping that at least that room is empty. The door is locked. Great. Maybe he should just leave. There’s no one he really wants to talk to, he’s not in the mood to get drunk or dance on the tables. He showed up, that should be enough for Pansy not to kill him.

So he turns around once again and promptly stops in his tracks, again, when Potter suddenly stands right in front of him.

“Hi, Draco,” Potter smiles, green eyes sparkling in the dim light.

Draco nods once. “Hello.”

“I was just heading to the bathroom,” Potter continues, right hand loosely pointing toward the loo.

Draco shakes his head. “It’s occupied.”

“Oh,” Potter softly says. “So, how are you? I haven’t seen you since -”, he abruptly stops talking and, to Draco’s horror, starts blushing.

“Please don’t remind me,” Draco begs. He’s cringing just at the thought of their last encounter. That being part of the reason why he didn’t want to drink tonight. At least not as much as at that stupid Halloween party at Theo’s place.

“You don’t have to be embarrassed,” Potter says, blush still prominent on his cheeks but a cheeky grin back on his face. “It was just good fun.”

“For you maybe,” Draco spits and struts forward, intending to leave this conversation and this flat. He just won’t go to any parties anymore. The chance to run into Potter is too high nowadays.

“Hey,” Potter softly says and grabs Draco’s arm. “What’s wrong? You had fun, didn’t you?”

Draco stomps his foot. He knows that he probably looks like a child having a tantrum but this is just too much.

“Yeah, super fun,” he growls and yanks his arm back. “It was so much fun that I embarrassed myself in front of all of our friends. Drinking too much, dancing on the fucking table, and doing a near damn striptease for fuck’s sake. Only to fall and nearly break my fucking neck if it weren’t for, of course, you catching me like I’m a fucking damsel in distress and me being that stupid to actually --”

He stops talking. He can not believe that Potter once again made him relive that situation. It’s always him, of all people. Some greater god probably has a lot of fun, toying with Draco’s life.

“To actually kiss me,” Har- Potter says lowly. “I- I know that you didn’t actually mean it. It’s why I -” he shakes his head. “Listen, you don’t have to be embarrassed. I didn’t want to make things awkward between us and I don’t want to lose your friendship. You’re really important to me, Draco. And I know you don’t feel the same but I can keep myself in check, I swear!”

Potter is talking so much and apparently, Draco can’t really think because he really doesn’t understand Potter’s words.

“What did you just say?” he asks, eyes wide, and involuntarily takes a step forward. “You can’t mean that.”

Harry, no Potter - urgh who cares, raises his eyebrows in question. “I really want to be your friend, Dray.” He’s looking at Draco like a puppy would and suddenly Draco’s legs feel like jelly.

“I’m not talking about being friends,” he mumbles and takes another step forward.

There it is again, that blush on Harry’s cheeks. He frantically pushes his hand through his wild hair, making it stand up from his head. “I really like you, Draco. You know that, right? Merlin, when you kissed me… In front of all of our friends as well. I thought I finally went to heaven.” He clears his throat.

Draco takes another step forward. He’s right in front of Harry now, can look right into the other man’s eyes. “You didn’t kiss me back,” Draco whispers, hands shaking at his sides.

Harry groans, apparently seeing something in Draco’s eyes that makes him move his hands to Draco’s cheeks, softly cradling his head. “I was stunned, Draco. There you were, dancing and being happy and removing your clothes, for fuck’s sake. And then I saw you slip and jumped and actually caught you. And then your eyes… Fuck your eyes were sparkling and looking at me with so many emotions I couldn’t name. And then you kissed me and I was just - frozen. Fuck, Draco if you would’ve waited another second I would have carried you out of there to snog you into the next year!”

Harry’s words were coming out faster and louder with every sentence and Draco’s stomach filled more and more with butterflies.

“You are a piece of work, Potter,” Draco says and closes the gap between them.

“Draco,” Harry sighs into his mouth and finally kisses him back, tracing Draco's lips with his tongue, seeking entrance. Everything is hot after that. Draco presses his body forward until they’re completely flushed, his arms wound around Harry’s neck. Suddenly Harry’s hands are at his waist, pulling and pushing him until their positions are reversed, Harry now pressing him into the wall and kissing him until he can’t think anymore.

A loud moan coming through the guest bedroom wall makes them jump apart and they start giggling.

“I can’t believe this,” Draco grins, his fingers tracing Harry’s face, trying to ensure himself that this is real. “I thought you hated me after I kissed you. I didn’t even want to come today and face you.”

Harry pouts a little and presses another soft kiss onto Draco’s lips and then on his cheek and forehead. Draco’s insides feel like mush. “I’m sorry. I knew that something was off but I thought you didn’t want to see me because my feelings for you were so obvious and too much. I should’ve come to you.”

Draco shakes his head. “Doesn’t matter now.”

“No, it doesn’t,” Harry agrees. A little smirk grows on his face. “Sooo, can I call you my boyfriend now?”

“Merlin, Potter, always so straightforward,” Draco grins but relents. “Yes, you may.”

“Believe me, I will be so straightforward in this relationship, no more misunderstandings.” He emphasizes his words with another cheeky snog until they hear the next series of moans.

“Who is in there?” Harry asks, a little out of breath, and turns toward the offending noises.

Draco snorts. “Last I checked it was Ronald and Blaise. I think they also had a little talk.”

Harry laughs. “I knew it. Ron really thought that he could lie to me about his feelings.”

“Well,” Draco admonishes with a smile on his face, “you can be a little oblivious at times.”

Harry snorts. “Oh, do shut up, will you?”

“Make me.”

Harry makes sure that there are no more words being spoken in the next couple of minutes.

(Until Pansy and Hermione catch them on the way to their bedroom, right when the door next to them opens and two rumpled-looking men stumble into the hallway.)

Day 11 --

[atorchzagreusandtris]

I also find that sometimes dabbling in a different pool of art (ie. if you're a sculptor, try something outside of your comfort zone like drawing or painting) can also help!

sometimes it makes it worse, but sometimes seeing yourself do good in a field you don't think you're good in at all helps!

I had a bad burnout in 2020 with my art, and ever since I've had a hard time getting back into the swing of things. I can say now in 2024, I'm drawing quite a bit again, but it's still nowhere as much as it was. In between though, I've tried crocheting, resin, diamond art, cross stitching, needlefelting, and other things I can't remember.

I took Intro to Ceramics over the Spring Semester, and I'm dogshit at sculpting - or so I thought. I learned how to hand-build with stoneware clay, I learned how things feel at different stages (slip, plastic, leather, bone dry), I learned how to throw to make circular bowls and cups, I learned that glazing your work sucks and 99% of the time your mind brain image will not come to fruition (I am salty) - and all the while I hated it. But at the end of the semester, I looked at all of my different works and I felt more proud of myself than I had while making anything. All of my classmates had more experience than I had in ceramics, but I made so many pieces I was proud of because I had learned a skill I didn't exactly have before. I made plates I could eat off of, small cups I could drink out of, bowls I could slurp soup out of if I wanted to, planters I could plant plants in, and a few sculptures of animals and trees I could display.

I'm a drawer, not a sculptor - but I sculpted dammit, and I was proud of it.

And next semester I get to try my hand at photography.

You will never not be an artist, but sometimes all it takes is a different media to get you back into it

I got art block what should I do

[kinetic-elaboration]

October 8: AOFTA 2023

I did a lot with my brain this weekend. I’m not really ready to go back to work but whatever. I’m taking Friday off. The week is going to be pretty quiet with people on vacation and stuff. Hopefully I keep myself together in the after-work hours and get stuff done because not a lot was done this weekend, in terms of like practical stuff.

I did go out to the art show. B could not attend because he wasn’t feeling well but it was fine. I intended to go at 10, didn’t actually arrive until 11, but I was done—had seen everything and was physically and emotionally exhausted—by a little past 10. I had to wait until 3 to catch the bus so I just wandered a little more, tried out a couple of coffee shops but the line was super long on all of them, and so eventually I just stood in a long line. Waited 20 minutes for my drink, had 10 minutes to drink it. It’s fine. It’s whatever.

Anyway, the show itself was great. I’m very glad I went. I hadn’t been since 2019 and I do have a lower tolerance for crowds but it wasn’t that bad in that regard. The weather was great. Even though it’s in early October, it’s often still really, excruciatingly hot here at that time, but this year, it rained on Saturday, and that cleared everything up and dropped the temperatures down. It was still short sleeves weather and when the sun was shining on me, it was pretty warm, but when the wind blew, it was cold. Overall very comfortable.

I saw a few old favorites, including my Favorite Painting (which I admit maybe affected me less than last time but which I still enjoyed very much) [Jean Benvenuto], and the retablos [Nicario Jiminez], and the book boxes [Steven B. Levine]. But there were also a lot of really, really exciting new artists: one who did abstract paintings that I really liked [Liz Doody], one who did large-scale mood and metal sculptures that are just like exactly my thing (I loved them so much! Some of them moved! If I had a big old yard and a spare 3k lying around…) [Benjamin Peterson], one who did abstract moving sculptures out of wood that were very pleasant [Michael Costello], a photographer who did cyanotypes of trees [Jeff Kuhlman], one who did these interesting circular mixed media pieces [Kipley Meyer], and a photographer who did a lot of animal photos including a series with a black cat interacting with a stuffed mouse that I just really liked [Wendy Nelson].

My two favorites were Chris Cumbie and Josh Price, both of whom were also new. Price does animals and other figures out scrap metal and I got two pieces because I have no self-control and I haven’t gone to an art show in 4 years. And Cumbie does these really weird, creepy mixed media pieces and has a sense of humor about it. I didn’t buy anything because of just a confluence of circumstances, including seeing his booth so late (I need time between seeing something and deciding I still want to own it), being kind of intimidated, and the problem of the tyranny of choice, especially of his more affordable pieces. But like… I might still? Online? I really liked them.

After I got home, I ate, and then I took a nap, and now I’ve been up for several hours but also, like, barely. My feet hurt. My brain is tired. I feel hungry again because dinner was kind of small. I’m not prepared for work in any way but… it’s fine. It’ll be fine.

[maniculum]

The College of Grotesque Arts -- Week Nine

For new people, I’m doing the Dungeon23 megadungeon project, basing each room on the marginalia of a different page in the 14th-century Luttrell Psalter. Previous entries in this project can be found here.

I spent all of March slacking off on this project, but I’m trying to catch up now. Let’s see how successful I am at that endeavor. So, this post should have gone up a month ago, but let’s do it now.

As usual, I generated the whole level before I started filling in the rooms. And, I know I complained about the results of using Appendix A on Level Two, but I swear Level Three is worse. Martius, the wizard who ran this level of the dungeon, seems to have been really into an architectural school I can best describe as “annoying to draw”. The Annoying to Draw school places an emphasis on unnecessarily complicated intersections and circular rooms. I hate the circular rooms. After only having one on the first two levels, this level has three. And the intersections… on two separate occasions, a section of passages got so pointlessly complex that I just erased the little wedges of remaining wall and called it a room. In the case of Room 3.28, this still resulted in a room that would be an incredible pain to describe (it was, like, an irregular rhombus with one curved edge) so I just replaced it with a box of roughly the same size and called it good.

As a result of this, I’ve decided Martius was an insufferable hipster, which is a big downgrade from the largely positive portrayal of him you might have gotten from his tower aboveground (carrier pigeons and love letters). The only thing I like about the design of this level is the one hilariously long diagonal hallway, which I think has some pizzazz. I know, I know, you’re thinking “well just change it.” I probably will make a lot of adjustments as I go, but you know, trying to stick to the randomly generated material is what makes it an interesting exercise.

Anyway, the map for this segment is below the cut with the rest of the content. It’s not as bad as the next few, but you can kind of see the disaster coming.

Room 3.1: f.42v

Off to a weird start. Appendix A wants a small room with a fear-inducing gas trap. The Luttrell page for this one is lavishly illustrated but it’s hard to decide what to use. We’ve got three variations on “worm-thing with face”, a weird bird, something that might be a harpy with a vine-like tail, and this disaster:

I legitimately tried to think up something to do with that disaster, but I could not come up with a way to give it an existence that was not sad and pathetic. So we’re going with the weird bird thing — which kind of looks like it might be involved with fear-inducing gas, so I guess that’s for the best. We’re making the room bigger for them, though.

This room is very strange-looking. Up until around ten feet from the floor, it’s fine, though there are a lot of pillars, placed a bit more densely than other rooms. Ten feet above the ground, though, all of the pillars are connected together by horizontal stone “branches” in a strange kind of webwork drop-ceiling. Some of those “branches” are broken — you can see pieces on the floor — and others look newer & cleaner than the rest. It’s clear the Caretakers on this level occasionally maintain them.

Perching on those stone branches are a number of forhtuls. These are bird-like creatures, roughly the size of a parakeet, that seem to have been equipped with long, pointy ears. In addition, rather than feet, they have a pair of prehensile vine-like appendages that they use to wrap around those weird stone branches. They also have a unique defense mechanism: when they feel threatened, they can release a gaseous substance that causes anything that breathes it in to feel a sourceless, directionless terror. They definitely feel threatened when someone comes into their den, so everyone needs to make their Will saves now. If the gas doesn’t cause the intruders to leave, they will descend on them and start pecking for 1 damage a shot, which would be an incredibly embarrassing way to die.

Forhtul: CR 1, XP 400; N Diminutive Magical Beast; Init +3; Senses Low-Light Vision, Darkvision 60ft; Perception +0

DEFENSE: AC 17, touch 17, flat-footed 14 (+4 size, +3 Dex); hp 15 (2d10+4) Saves Fort +5, Ref +6, Will +0

OFFENSE: Speed 10 ft., fly 20 ft. Melee peck +3 (1d2-3); Space 2-1/2 ft.; Reach 2-1/2 ft.; Special Attacks Fear Gas (15ft. radius, DC 15)

STATISTICS: Str 4, Dex 16, Con 14, Int 2, Wis 10, Cha 10; Base Atk +2; CMB -5; CMD 8; Feats Ability Focus (Fear Gas); Skills Fly +8 Special Qualities Magical Beast Traits

SPECIAL ABILITIES:

Fear Gas (Sp): A Forhtul can emit a gas that causes everyone within a 10-ft radius to experience fear (as the fear spell).  This is a mind-affecting fear effect that allows a DC 15 Will save to resist. The gas itself is slightly magical, and will not function in situations where magic would not be efficacious.

Room 3.2: f.43r

Speaking of Caretakers, it looks like that’s what we’ve got in this room, because that’s the most reasonable interpretation of both the grotesques on this page, so I’m just picking one.

Caretaker Four is a construct that’s been shaped to look human from the waist up — though with an unusually long neck — but has a pair of sturdy, outward-pointing, animal-like legs. It seems to have been rather artistically designed, including not only fine garments, but even simulated hair styled in a way that was presumably in fashion when it was new. It could never pass as organic under close inspection — all of its parts are metal, but expertly shaped, painted, and maintained; the hair is actually extremely fine gold wire. It carries with it two large golden bells, which are enchanted to aid in its duties as well as to produce a supernaturally lovely musical tone. When not in use, these bells attach to clips on its belt. (Additional information under stat block.)

Caretaker Four: CR 10, XP 9600; N Medium Construct; Init +8; Senses Low-Light Vision, Darkvision 60ft, Blindsense 30ft; Perception +11

DEFENSE: AC 28, touch 16, flat-footed 22 (+4 Dex, +2 dodge, +12 natural); hp 92 (13d10+20); Saves Fort +4, Ref +10, Will +4; DR 5/- SR 25

OFFENSE: Speed 30 ft.; Melee 2 slams +21 (1d4+8); Special Attacks Gaze of Compliance (DC 18)

Spell-Like Abilities (CL 13; DC 15 + spell level):

At Will — Create Food and Water, Deep Slumber, Minor Creation, Prestidigitation.

3/day — Fabricate, Hold Monster, Telekinesis, Wall of Force.

1/day — Forceful Hand, Mass Suggestion, Stone to Flesh, Flesh to Stone.

STATISTICS: Str 26, Dex 18, Con 0, Int 0, Wis 10, Cha 10; Base Atk +13; CMB +21; CMD 35; Feats Improved Initiative, Lightning Reflexes; Skills Perception +11; Special Qualities: Construct Traits, Swift Reactions

SPECIAL ABILITIES:

Gaze of Compliance (Su): An opponent that meets Caretaker Four's gaze within 30ft. becomes charmed (as charm person) for 1 day unless they succeed at a DC 18 Will save. Anyone subject to this effect becomes convinced that Caretaker Four possesses consciousness (it doesn’t) and is strongly motivated to please it by ensuring all other creatures in the area are well-behaved and relocated to their appropriate areas if necessary. A successful saving throw negates the effect. Each opponent within range of a gaze attack must attempt a saving throw each round at the beginning of his or her turn in the initiative order. 

Swift Reactions (Ex): Caretaker Four moves and reacts much more swiftly than normal constructs.  They gain ‘Improved Initiative' and ‘Lightning Reflexes' as bonus feats, and gain a +2 dodge bonus to AC.

Bell of Material Repair: When rung, casts make whole on both the user and an object of their choice within 30ft. Can be used 6/day.

Bell of Beaſt Repair: When rung, casts cure critical wounds on both the user and a creature of their choice within 30ft. Can be used 3/day.

As usual with Caretakers, Caretaker Four is not interested in combat or engaging with the PCs in any way unless provoked. If PCs initiate combat, interfere with its duties, or try to steal one of those useful bells, Caretaker Four will engage in the following way.

Caretaker Four’s first resort is its Gaze of Compliance ability. If this does not seem to be effective, it will use mass suggestion — as with all Caretakers, this is an automatic feature with no agency or verbalization on the part of the Caretaker. Targets are simply compelled to calm themselves, cease combat, and return to whichever room they’re supposed to occupy (the last may require some interpretation). If this fails, Caretaker Four will use forceful hand, hold monster, telekinesis, wall of force, and deep slumber to immobilize the PCs and relocate them itself. If pressed, it will resort to nonlethal unarmed strikes and its once-daily flesh to stone. (The target will be revived with stone to flesh once they have been relocated.) It is also capable of using the Bell of Material Repair to heal itself if the fight is going badly.

Room 3.3: f.43v

Lots of stuff on this page — I decided to expand this room to fill the entire space between the passages here to fit it all. However, since the passage originally leading to this room was a long curving quarter-circle corridor, that made things look a little odd… so I decided to finish the curve into a full half-circle and put the room inside that space. Which meant a first for this dungeon: a room that crosses page borders. So now it’s also poking into Week Eleven, but I feel less silly about putting lots of stuff in it.

This room is built with a strange hemispherical construction — the east wall is straight, but the ceiling, floor, and west wall form a sort of dome that reaches high above, and, presumably, far below. (If the PCs decide to check into this for some reason, the highest point of the “dome”, about 80ft off the ground, does in fact come pretty close to clipping into Room 2.3. You’d have to go through a few feet of stone, though.) In addition to pillars supporting the ceiling, there are several buttresses spaced along the wall. The northern half of the room is planted with several oak trees, and the southern half is an artificial pond with a stone walkway in a “T” shape over it. Said walkway can be used to reach a door further down the east wall, and is also not visible on this map because it’s on the Week Eleven one.

The oaks are, in fact, squirrel oaks, and there are a number of oak squirrels present. (I know that’s not really a squirrel or an oak leaf, but it’s the same kind of critter, so I’m just rolling it in.)

The pond is populated with hand geese, which are in every way identical to regular geese except they have a fully-functional human hand on the tops of their heads.

Atop one of the buttresses is a serpentine wyvern, which will attack as soon as it becomes aware of the PCs. This is a wyvern variant created within the College, less intelligent (holy crap, I forgot wyverns have Int 7) but more physically dangerous than a regular wyvern. This is a variety of creature that has become known to the world outside the dungeon, so a Knowledge (Nature) check can get information about it. It behaves in a slightly unusual way: it’s not just interested in eating the PCs. In fact, given the opportunity, it will eat only one and leave the others stung & paralyzed on the ground while it retreats back up onto the buttress.

This behavior is for the same reason that the serpentine wyvern is known outside of the dungeon: its reproductive habits. Its sting is not just a weapon; it can also be used to implant eggs in opponents of Small size or larger. (Smaller creatures aren’t big enough to provide the young with sufficient space & nourishment.) The poison in the sting that causes paralysis is technically separate, but the wyvern can use both in a single attack, prompting two separate saving throws. Given its druthers, the serpentine wyvern will paralyze its opponents, eat whichever one looks tastiest, ensure the rest have been implanted with eggs, and then retreat out of range. (Okay, if you have a good ranged weapon, you can still reach it; the highest part of the tallest buttress is only ~60ft off the ground.)

Once implanted with an egg, it’s difficult to get rid of without knowing exactly what’s going on and getting medical attention from an expert. (GM’s call whether this actually counts as a disease for the purpose of remove disease.) The egg takes up to a month to develop and hatch; once the month has elapsed, whether or not the host has survived, a young serpentine wyvern will emerge from the host’s body. (This can cause extra damage if you want to go the chestburster route.) If the host is dead or severely debilitated, the young wyvern will then feed on it.

Serpentine Wyvern: CR 7, XP 3200; N Large Dragon; Init +3; Senses Low-Light Vision, Scent, Darkvision 60ft; Perception +12

DEFENSE: AC 19, touch 8, flat-footed 19 (-1 size, -1 Dex, +11 natural); hp 104 (9d12+45); Saves Fort +11, Ref +5, Will +8; Immunities Paralysis, Sleep

OFFENSE: Speed 50 ft., fly 100 ft.; Melee sting +15 (1d8+7 plus paralysis,  plus egg) , bite +10 (2d6+7 plus grab); Space 10 ft.; Reach 5 ft.; Special Attacks Swallow Whole (2d6+11, AC 15, 10 hp), Fast Swallow, Grab (bite), Paralysis (1d8 rounds, DC 19), Egg Implantation (Ex) (sting-injury save DC 21, onset 1d3 days, frequency 1 day, effect 1d3 Con damage, cure 4 consecutive saves)

STATISTICS: Str 24, Dex 8, Con 21, Int 4, Wis 10, Cha 10; Base Atk +9; CMB +17 (+21 grapple); CMD 26; Feats Ability Focus (Egg Implantation), Combat Reflexes, Flyby Attack, Improved Initiative, Iron Will; Skills Fly +13, Perception +12, Stealth +11; Special Qualities Dragon Traits

SPECIAL ABILITIES:

Egg Implantation (Ex): A Serpentine Wyvern can implant an egg in its opponents.  Mechanically, this can be treated as a disease with a Fortitude save DC of 21, an onset of 1d3 days, a frequency of 1 day, causes 1d3 con damage, and takes three consecutive saves to cure.

Fast Swallow (Ex):  A Serpentine Wyvern can use its ‘Swallow Whole' ability at any time it has an opponent grappled as a free action, instead of just at the beginning of its turn.

Grab (Ex): If a Serpentine Wyvern hits with its bite attack, it deals normal damage and attempts to start a grapple as a free action without provoking an attack of opportunity. Grab can only be used against targets of a size Large or smaller.

Paralyze (Ex): When a Serpentine Wyvern hits a target with its sting attack(s), the victim is rendered immobile for 1d8 rounds.  The target is allowed a DC 19 fortitude save to negate the paralysis effect.  Paralyzed creatures cannot move, speak, or take any physical actions. The creature is rooted to the spot, frozen and helpless.

Swallow Whole (Ex): If a Serpentine Wyvern has an opponent grappled in its mouth (see Grab), it can attempt a new combat maneuver check (as though attempting to pin the opponent). If it succeeds, it swallows its prey, and the opponent takes bite damage. Unless otherwise noted, the opponent can be up to one size category Smaller than the swallowing creature. Being swallowed causes a creature to take 2d6+11 bludgeoning damage each round. A swallowed creature keeps the grappled condition, while the creature that did the swallowing does not. A swallowed creature can try to cut its way free with any light slashing or piercing weapon (the amount of cutting damage required to get free is 10).  A Serpentine Wyvern's stomach has 15 AC.  If a swallowed creature cuts its way out, the Serpentine Wyvern cannot use “swallow whole” again until the damage is healed. If the swallowed creature escapes the grapple, success puts it back in the attacker?s mouth, where it may be bitten or swallowed again.

The serpentine wyvern prefers to use its Flyby Attack in combat rather than hanging around to let the PCs beat on it.

(A lot of the faces in this section of the manuscript just look really unhappy. Both the horse and the rider seem very worried about something off the edge of the page.) In the pond, one may find the skeletal remains of a horse and a human, previous victims of the serpentine wyvern. The human is Osamunda, a ranger who died exploring this dungeon some time ago. Her equipment is extremely battered and anything organic and non-magical has rotted, but the rest of her possessions can be found near her skeleton in the pond muck. These possessions include a Horn of Antagonism. 

Room 3.4: f.44r

Speaking of unhappy faces, check out this Jesus. He is going through it, probably because the artist has decided to make him hold a realistic depiction of his own death. 

Seriously, look at that face. Tell me that’s not the face of someone having some sort of existential trauma.

Anyway. This room contains a nest of thyrnit-worms in a pile of wrecked wooden furniture. (At least two, add more if your party is high-level enough that this is not a real threat.) These serpentine creatures have rabbit-like heads, a set of three tentacle-like tails they can use to grasp things, and a thorny hide. They are aggressive and dangerous; they attack by wrapping themselves around an opponent and gouging with the spikes that protrude from their hide. They can also bite, but it’s less effective.

Thyrnit-Worm: CR 4, XP 1200; N Small Animal; Init +2; Senses Low-Light Vision; Perception +0

DEFENSE: AC 17, touch 13, flat-footed 15 (+1 size, +2 Dex, +4 natural); hp 39 (6d8+12); Fort +7, Ref +7, Will +2

OFFENSE: Speed 20 ft., climb 20 ft.; Melee bite +9 (1d4+4); Special Attacks Constrict (1d6+4 plus Thorns), Thorns +9 (1d6+6)

STATISTICS: Str 18, Dex 14, Con 15, Int 2, Wis 10, Cha 10; Base Atk +4; CMB +7 (+11 grapple); CMD 19 (21 vs. grapple); Feats Ability Focus (Constrict), Greater Grapple, Improved Grapple; Skills Stealth +11; Special Qualities Animal Traits

SPECIAL ABILITIES

Constrict (Ex): A Thyrnit-Worm can crush an opponent, dealing 1d6+4 bludgeoning damage, when it makes a successful grapple check (in addition to any other effects caused by a successful check, including additional damage).

Thorns (Ex):  When a Thyrnit-Worm uses its Constrict ability, it also gets to make an attack roll (+9, 1d6+6 damage) to gouge its opponent with its thorny hide. This does not impact the grapple otherwise.

Among the wreckage of furniture that comprises their nest, the PCs may also find the remnants of one of their past victims (not in great shape after being eaten by worms, but all the bones are technically present). Godelina was a wizard and her magical equipment remains mostly intact, as does a satchel of coins — though she was the type of person to ward her purse with explosive runes.

Boom. Week Nine done, only a few weeks late.

[cherry-velvet-skies]

Muse

Painter!Ethan Torchio × GN!Reader

Genre: Fluff

Warnings: None

Words: 1.3k

Summary: Ethan creates a masterpiece using makeup products, and Reader's face is the canvas

=======================================

======================================

“Are you sure you don’t mind helping me?” Ethan asked for what seemed like the hundredth time. “I know it’s really short notice, so you don’t have to.”

“Of course I want to help you.” You replied, leaning against the door frame as he gathered the rest of his supplies. “I’m actually kind of excited. I’ve never been a canvas before.”

Ethan was a pretty decent artist, dabbling with multiple forms of media, preferring ones such as charcoal drawings or a simple graphite sketch. Lately, he had been seeing various examples of artists using their own faces as their sketchpads. He marvelled at the idea of using makeup as a medium, and decided to have a go at it. However, doing it to his own face in front of a mirror might have been too steep of a challenge for his first time, so he opted for practicing on someone else first. And you were more than happy to oblige.

Ethan wanted the experience to be as comfortable for you as possible, choosing his bedroom as an optimal location. You sat down on the bed and brushed your arms against the smooth fabric of the blanket, using one of the pillows to lean back against the headboard.

Once you were settled, he laid out all the colors he would use, along with several brushes varying in size. You allowed Ethan to use your makeup for this adventure, and while you didn't have the largest collection of items, you did have an appreciation for graphic liners, which was the closest makeup product to paint that you could possibly have. You informed him of having to spray the liners with water to activate them, and that was really all there was to it. In his mind, it was just like using watercolor paints. 

Once you saw him coat the brush with the first color, you felt yourself getting excited again. "Are you ready?" Ethan whispered, holding the brush a few inches from your cheek.

"Permission to paint is granted." You declared with a giggle, closing your eyes and leaning forward. The second the blob of pigment touched your face, you wanted to squirm, but it was more from anticipation than anything else.

"Is it cold?" Ethan asked, sensing your plight of trying not to move.

"Not too bad." You mumbled, making sure not to stretch your cheeks too much. "It kinda tickles." Keeping with the theme, Ethan used your makeup brushes instead of his own. His were too abrasive to be used on your face anyway. But even though they were your own brushes and you had used them more times than you could count, the way they glided across your skin gave you a type of tranquility you had never known before. 

Ethan hardly said a word while he was working. He had his quiet moments on ordinary days, but while he was concentrating, you couldn't even so much as hear his breathing. His level of focus was unmatched, and it was always clearly visible when viewing the masterpieces he was able to create. 

The silence throughout the room actually served to heighten your other senses, and the experience was magical. You felt every stroke of the brushes, the difference in the density of the bristles based on which one he was using, and somehow, each color felt different as well. You still had no idea what he was creating, but the mysterious aspect served to benefit you. It was similar to viewing a piece of abstract art, but almost from the inside out. You were the foundation for said art, and you had no clue what it looked like. It was the most anticipating of exhibitions, one that you were honored to be a part of.

“You doing okay?” Ethan piped up, making small circular motions on your eyelids. You slightly nodded, not wanting to disturb what he was doing, but enough to give him an answer. “Just checking,” Ethan replied, chuckling to himself. “For a second there, I thought you fell asleep on me.” You tightly pursed your lips, attempting to stifle your laughter to preserve his precious artwork.

“You can laugh, you know.” He commented.

“I don’t want to crease anything.” You responded. “You worked very hard on it.” You still had your eyes closed, but could almost see Ethan staring intently at your lips.

“Hearing your laughter is worth more than anything I could ever create.”

After several minutes, and several more brush changes, Ethan had finished his masterpiece. Apparently, you two had been sitting there for quite a while, much longer than you estimated. Upon opening your eyes, you were captivated by how the rays of sunlight coming through the window were not only in a different position, but they were beginning to turn a dusty orange. To you, it had felt like mere seconds, as it seems to be true that pleasant times pass by quicker. 

You turned back to Ethan, who offered you a warm smile, letting you know he was satisfied with his work. He extended his hand to help you sit up straight.

“Okay, what goofy-looking creature did you turn me into?” You joked, standing up to make your way towards the vanity mirror.

“Very funny.” Ethan retorted. “But I’m quite proud of it, and I hope you like it as much as I do.” When you gazed at your reflection, your eyes widened. The amount of detail he had put into his creation was astounding.

Starting at your jawline, a flurry of monochrome green rolling hills were bounding up towards your cheeks. Ethan even integrated your facial features into the artwork, painting your lips to look like a giant flower neatly perched on one of the hills. Blanketed across your nose and underneath your eyes was the beginning of a beautiful sunset, the orange hues slowly blending into yellow as they swirled around your eyes, ending their journey just below your browline. Continuing upwards, a rapid transition of color led to a world of vibrant pinks, blues, and purples. Ornately decorating your forehead were various groups of stars and constellations. You didn’t recognize all of them, but you were certain Ethan would be overjoyed to tell you if you asked him about it. For an artist that was known for mostly grayscale work, your face was sporting quite the rainbow. But what might’ve been the most overwhelmingly admirable detail was the fact that the entire piece was done in perfect symmetry. Whatever he added on one side, he had to add to the other, a crucial ingredient to anything that he created. It was a true work of art and you couldn't be more proud of him.

“Ethan, it’s beautiful.” You beamed. “Oh, gosh it’s so wonderful I never want to wash it off. I wish I could leave it here forever.” Ethan’s eyes lit up, his shoulders bopping back and forth with a mix of pride and excitement.

“I’m so happy you’re pleased with it.” He said, staring in the mirror alongside you for another closer look. “But I’m sure it will get itchy eventually, which is why I ask that you let me take some photos before you wipe it off.”

You stepped back to pose as Ethan took out his phone. He captured several images of his creation, all in various lighting and angles, keeping his fingers under your chin to tilt your face in between photos. Once he was done, you looked in the mirror again, silently planning the next time you wanted him to do this. 

"Oh, wait, I forgot to sign it." Ethan whispered as he turned you back to face him. You were about to make a comment when he leaned in closer, pressing a punctuating kiss to your lips.

Well, at least no one could ever replicate the signature.

==================================

Once again, thank y'all so much for 50 followers!! 🥰🥰🥰 I promised to post something today, and something you shall get! As far as full fics are concerned, I don't have any other ones planned, so requests are always appreciated! 💕

[leviathantrench]

i don't make it a habit to reply to SMR asks but i'm korean (not the op of the linked ask) and i think i can give a loose-ish explanation of what's chill and what's not, since this is an important topic that's worth discussing. of course other ppl affected by the japanese empire are free to correct me or add your own input, this is just how i see it personally

rising sun imagery and discussion under the cut, potential eyestrain

is it red and white

if you're using blue and yellow radiating lines with no circle in the middle, for example, that's fine because it doesn't particularly look like the flag anyway and it's a fairly common design thing to just have lines radiating from the center of an image. in finding images for this i have seen a couple of rising sun recolors that are blue/green and white however, but that comes with the added context that it's a recolored flag.

that being said, with regards to the fest skin, i think it's a more reddish shade of orange, so that may have made it resemble the flag too much.

i also want to bring up this street fighter II stage (kapukon yu). i would personally not find the rising sun image in this stage acceptable due to context and the fact that it kind of just looks like a rising sun that's been inverted and given a yellow filter. apparently capcom agrees with me, because they edited it out in future releases

does it have the circle

generally it should be fine if it has no circle in the middle, but i feel like this is something that depends on context. if it's for something like a circus then i wouldn't think about the rising sun flag, but if it's being used around something related to japan i would probably raise an eyebrow

case worth mentioning, though: the one piece manga had a flag shown for a few panels that had radiating lines from a non-circular shape, and it was controversial enough for the korean media to cover it. so then i'd say its fine if there's no shapes in the center, and if you do put something there, be careful about how much it resembles the rising sun flag.

line width

this one's a bit tricky because different people have different opinions (the wind fest skin was mentioned in the ask). i would personally not include radiating lines from any red circle. i say this because a while back there was a controversy regarding a character from the anime demon slayer, where a character had earrings that looked like this:

wow that formatted kind of bad. anyways i definitely remember that many people felt uncomfortable with this design even if the lines were thin, so the anime changed it. i think its because a red circle with radiating lines specifically resembles the flag too much for it to be safe to use.

alignment

i feel that the flag is still offensive even if the sun is slightly to the left, or in the corner, or anything like that.

it doesn't matter because even in the actual (naval) flag, it's off center.

furthermore, its use as a background element like the above is something that makes me uncomfortable. (rising sun imagery appears in japanese art and symbolism before the meiji restoration, but this postcard in particular is from 1925)

dishonorable mentions

it doesn't matter if there's any other images inside the sun or between the lines. don't do this shit. i bring this up because i hate this cover and being a comic reader is sometimes The Fucking Worst (the robot is associated with a lot of japanese imgery, this was intentional)

tl;dr: red circle on its own is fine, radiating lines on their own are fine within context, red(ish) circle with radiating lines of any width is a no

again this is just one guy's opinion and i am not an expert, if you have any particular insight that you'd like to add then i'd love to talk about it (politely)! thank you for asking anon, it does mean a lot to me that this is an issue people care about. if you do happen to make something resembling the rising sun flag, i think the best thing to do is to apologize, change it, and learn from the experience.

post/735493563838791680/

out of genuine curiosity, how to differentiate between radial stripes and rising sun flag (b/c, unfortunately unlike a lot of other bad symbols, its pretty basic)? like if its red and white duh but i remember that one fest skin was orange, and it still was edited . so like whats the threshold.

Post

[hornime]

watch and learn | iwaizumi hajime x f!reader x team japan

there were two things they all had in common: the growing bulges in their pants that they were urgently trying to distract themselves from, and the fact that their full attention was on you.

warnings: 18+, timeskip!everyone, BIG MANGA SPOILERS BASICALLY, exhibitionism, voyeurism, orgasm denial

w/c: 3.1k

a/n: now i don’t know if iwaizumi hajime (27) athletic trainer learned about female orgasms when he was studying sports science at irvine BUT he def knows how to show a girl a good time which is reason enough for me to write this. also, i read this article to prep for this piece and it was super enlightening, so i do recommend giving it a read if you’re interested!

in the middle of his morning run, iwaizumi slowed momentarily to check the repetitive buzzing of this phone, curious as to who was messaging him this early. when he’d left the apartment, you were sleeping, and you had the tendency to still be sleeping by the time he returned, so who else could it be?

he unlocked his phone, quickly finding the source of the notifications: the team japan group chat.

[06:43 AM] miya: hey @iwaizumi—you know stuff abt the human body right?

[06:43 AM] miya: cus like you studied it in college and shit??

iwaizumi rolled his eyes. i spent four years in america to earn my degree, came back home to support my country’s olympic team, and dealt with the biggest idiots of volleyball, only to get treated like this?

[06:44 AM] iwaizumi: yes, miya. i took many courses on the human body. in fact that’s the purpose of my job. to know the human body. because i am a fucking athletic trainer.

[06:44 AM] miya: okay okay i get it. dumb question

[06:44 AM] iwaizumi: why? is something up? you need help or anything?

[06:44 AM] miya: uhhh kinda

[06:44 AM] miya: @hinata i’m not fucking asking this

[06:44 AM] bokuto: bro just do it

[06:44 AM] miya: @hinata @hinata @hinata 

iwaizumi cocked an eyebrow. what the hell are they going on about?

[06:45 AM] iwaizumi: so am i needed or...

[06:45 AM] hinata: YES

[06:45 AM] hinata: we had a question

[06:46 AM] sakusa: by “we” he means him, miya, and bokuto

[06:46 AM] suna: yeah don’t bring us into this

[06:46 AM] hinata: don’t listen to them! both suna and sakusa wanna know too

[06:46 AM] iwaizumi: okay. what’s up

[06:47 AM] hinata: we wanted to know how to make a girl cum

he chuckled in disbelief.

[06:47 AM] iwaizumi: you’re telling me that you guys are in your mid-20s, literal olympic athletes, and you don’t know how to make a girl cum

[06:47 AM] iwaizumi: have you never done it before??

[06:47 AM] miya: NO

[06:47 AM] miya: FOR THE RECORD IVE MADE MANY GIRLS CUM

[06:48 AM] bokuto: ME TOO

[06:48 AM] bokuto: i think

he laughed out loud, briefly startling another runner on the sidewalk.

[06:48 AM] iwaizumi: you guys are unbelievable

[06:48 AM] hinata: i mean she says she finished but idk what i did to make that happen

[06:48 AM] bokuto: ^^

[06:48 AM] hinata: so like i wanna know how to actually do it

[06:48 AM] suna: actually im kinda interested in this too

[06:48 AM] aran: i pray for your future girlfriends. this is painful to see. im out

[06:48 AM] kageyama: i’m with aran on this one. you guys are dumb

[06:48 AM] hinata: shut up. you suck.

[06:48 AM] miya: cmon iwaizumi, help a guy out

[06:48 AM] sakusa: it wouldnt hurt for you to give us some pointers at least

iwaizumi sighed.

[06:49 AM] iwaizumi: @miya @hinata @bokuto @suna @sakusa meet in the locker room after practice. ill give you guys a lesson in the art of pleasing a woman

to teach effectively, he needed a volunteer, though he was sure you wouldn’t need much convincing. you’d always loved the attention, and the biceps, of the pro athletes. he spun on his heel and jogged home.

you woke up to the sound of your apartment door opening, your boyfriend creeping inside, forehead damp with sweat.

“hey,” you said quietly, making your way towards him.

“hey, baby. sorry for waking you up, i was trying to be quiet.”

you giggled sleepily. “s’okay, haji. you spoil me too much anyway, always letting me sleep in for hours while you’re off doing god knows what.”

at that, his eyes crinkled in amusement, and as you tried to step into a hug, he shuffled back. “woah there, baby. i gotta shower, ‘m all gross from my run. and then,” he gave you a peculiar look that you couldn’t quite place, “i got a proposition for you.”

after his shower, he waltzed out of the bathroom, steam wafting out from behind the door. his tanned body made you feel things you definitely shouldn’t be barely an hour after the sun’s risen, and you reached out to massage the tension in his shoulders. “so, what’s your proposition?”

“well,” he hesitated. “it’s a bit... unconventional. the team asked me to show them how to make a girl cum,” he took in your intrigued expression. “and it’d be a lot easier to explain if i had someone to do a live demonstration with. so,” his eyes flicked up to you. “that’s where you’d come in.”

“a... live demonstration? like you’re gonna make me cum in front of them?”

“yeah, essentially.” he gave you a devilish grin. “you want that, baby? wanna show those boys how a real man treats a gorgeous woman like you?”

you rubbed your thighs at his words. “yeah,” you purred. “i do. wanna show them how good you are to me.”

and that’s how you found yourself nestled between iwaizumi’s muscled thighs, back pressed against his chest, completely naked, with five of japan’s best volleyball players staring at your body in awe.

practically an expert in his field, iwaizumi knew the human body inside and out. this had many benefits; of course it allowed him to catapult up the ranks and work with the country’s best athletes to keep them at the top of their game, but it also had a unique side effect: an overwhelming vault of knowledge on how to make a woman feel good anywhere. 

you’d seen the proof firsthand; he knew exactly where to push, prod, stroke, and tease to have you cumming in seconds, over and over, as many times as you wanted. he was amazing, and you were well-aware just how lucky you were to have such a talented man in the sheets.

“oi,” iwaizumi snapped his fingers, drawing each of the players’ eyes away from your glistening cunt. “pay attention. i know more than anybody that she’s hot as fuck, but you gotta listen to what i’m saying or else there’s no point to this.”

he lightly pressed his lips against your collarbone, slowly tracing them against your jaw, the contact making you squirm. “if you wanna make a girl cum, first thing you gotta do is make her comfortable. if she’s worried about how she looks or sounds or smells she’s gonna be too stressed to let go.” he moved his hands to grope your tits, his calloused fingers brushing over your hardening nipples. “so reassure her, tell her how irresistible she is, how pretty her moans are, how tasty her pussy is. shit like that. the sexier she feels the better it’ll be.”

he leaned into you, whispering into your ear. “feeling good, baby? we can stop whenever.”

you nodded weakly, afraid to open your mouth, barely holding in your whines as his palms worked wonders on your chest and stomach, sending shocks of heat wherever they touched. 

you craned your neck up to observe the men before you. atsumu was flushed red, wringing his hands as if he was worried they’d do something embarrassing if he didn’t keep them occupied. hinata was bouncing his leg up and down, wiping his palms on his shorts as he took in the plushness of your thighs. bokuto was basically drooling, greedily tracing your soft curves with his eyes. suna maintained his indifferent expression, but the reddening tips of his ears showed that he was a lot more hot and bothered than he let on. sakusa stood quietly to the side, leaning against the wall, mask tucked under his chin as if he’d just realized how much the temperature had gone up in the room.

there were two things they all had in common: the growing bulges in their pants that they were urgently trying to distract themselves from, and the fact that their full attention was on you.

"make sure to try different things; there’s multiple ways to make a woman cum. only like a quarter of women experience orgasms just from penetration,” someone made a sound of shock. “yes, the number is that small, bokuto.” 

his fingertip slowly trailed past your belly button, dipping into the mess between your thighs, causing you to slightly arch your back into the solid chest supporting you. “foreplay with the clit is your best bet; even stupid fucks like you probably wouldn’t screw it up too bad.”

hinata opened his mouth to speak, but iwaizumi anticipated his question and continued.

“i know you’re wondering where the clit is. it’s around here, under this hood of skin,” he slid his digit between your labia. “s’not gonna come with a label so you gotta explore a little bit. i know where hers is like the back of my hand, but for you guys, with your girls, you’re gonna have to move your fingers around. slowly. and pay attention to her expressions.” he began to rub in a circular motion around your clit, causing you to make small whimpers of pleasure and shift your hips to meet his movements. 

“if she clenches up or twitches when you feel a certain spot, like this,” your legs flexed as he increased the pressure, “that’s the clit. be kind, it’s not a volleyball. be gentle n’ make small circles, whether it’s with your fingers or your tongue.” 

he thought for a second. “speaking of which, oral’s important. very important. most women cum when they’ve been eaten out, so use your mouths for something more useful than just dirty talk. suck on the clit, maybe tongue-fuck her a ‘lil, but your main focus should always be the clit.”

he removed his hands from your sopping pussy, and you made a pathetic noise of frustration. “’m sorry, baby,” he muttered seductively in your ear. “don’t wanna have you finishing too early. lesson’s barely started.”

he turned his attention back to your audience, his lustful tone being replaced by a more instructional one. “there’s other places that’ll help a woman orgasm, too: her nipples, her neck, her ears—”

“her ears?” sakusa questioned. he blushed profusely as everyone turned to look at him, surprised that he’d opened his mouth. “what? we were all thinking it.”

“s’a valid question,” iwaizumi said. “yeah, you can lick ‘em if they’re sensitive. hers are.” as if to prove his statement, he licked a stripe on the shell of you ear, making you wiggle helplessly at the stimulation. “‘n leave kisses everywhere else. feels good for them just like it does for us.” he wrapped an arm around your waist, pulling you closer to him and forcing your movements to stop as he traced patterns with his tongue all around your neck.

“something you should know about an orgasm is that it’s something called a positive feedback loop.” he looked up and was met with five blank stares. shouldn’t have expected anything from these dumb jocks, he lamented. “basically that means that, once you start releasing sexual tension, things will feel better and better until you climax.”

“oh!” atsumu chirped. “like how my sets get better and better throughout a game.”

“no, not really,” he quipped. “your sets suck throughout.” atsumu frowned at that.

iwaizumi exhaled exasperatedly. “the general idea is that the body gets more and more sensitive, muscle contractions become more and more frequent, and touches feel more and more stimulating until you cum. all right?”

they all made noises of understanding except for bokuto and hinata, whose eyes had glazed over at the first mention of an academic term. whatever, iwaizumi thought. they’ll get it through example.

"don’t worry about it too much if you don’t get it, that’s just an orgasm on paper. in practice, though, this is the crucial step: listen to her. she knows what feels good. never forget that you’re just an idiot with a cock.” he took a breath, gathering his thoughts before proceeding with his lecture.

“if she tells you to slow down, you slow down. if she tells you to go harder, you go harder. if she tells you to keep doing what you’re doing, you...”

“keep doing what you’re doing”, they all chimed in at staggered times.

“that’s right. don’t go faster or else you’ll mess up the rhythm and she won’t cum. and you wanna make her cum, don’t you?”

they nodded simultaneously.

“so if you keep up the tempo and force that feels good to her, you’ll be fine. questions?”

suna spoke up. “what about,” he choked on the word. “penetration?”

hinata hummed in agreement and bokuto jumped in. “yeah, what if i wanna make her cum on my cock?”

iwaizumi made a weird face. “that’s some pretty advanced stuff, but i guess i can go over it. when you try it, though, you have to be patient. with both of your bodies. s’not rocket science but s’not always easy. also it depends on the woman but sometimes she physically won’t be able to finish from penetration alone. just make sure you’re communicating.”

his swirled two fingers over your hole before shoving them in, your wetness making it easy for him to thrust in and out as your entrance stretched to accommodate him. “f—fuck!” your eyes flew open at the intrusion and you body lurched forward, but you were held back by his strong forearm. “ohmygod, oh my g—ah! feels s’good haji, s’good!”

“i know, baby, i know. you’re taking it so well.” he turned his attention back to the men, each of who were gulping heavily. if that didn’t signal to you that they were evidently affected by your moans, the way they shifted in their workout shorts did.

“boys, focus.” he curled his fingertips, brushing at the spongy spot at the top of your walls, ripping a pleasured wail from your throat and causing tears to prick at your eyelashes. “when you’re fingering her, you’ll feel an area inside that’s a bit soft and squishy. that’s the g-spot.”

you trembled in his arms as he mercilessly struck the same place over and over again with his fingers. “when you’re fucking her, try to keep the pressure building there, but it’ll be harder to make her finish since you can’t see what you’re doing.”

your breath hitched as iwaizumi’s incessant movements brought your body tantalizingly close to your release. he suddenly stopped and you almost sobbed in disappointment, until he plunged his fingers impossibly deeper.

a guttural scream of ecstasy came from within you, and your eyes rolled back as he began playing with another part of you, your body putty in his hands. “hngh, haji, ah! so good, s’good...” you threw your hands back around his neck, nails digging into the skin as you desperately tried to keep yourself grounded. your soft moans filled the air.

“stop clenching,” he hissed. “can barely move my hand.” you tried to relax but failed miserably as the tips of his fingers grazed your cervix. 

“holy fuck,” suna muttered. “you’re a god.”

“she sounds so pretty,” atsumu said in amazement.

“i wanna make a girl feel good like that, too!” bokuto sulked.

“you can do it, bokuto!” hinata hit him on the arm. “just listen to iwaizumi. clearly he knows what he’s talking about.” 

their eyes refocused on your figure, writhing in pleasure, prompting white hot waves of arousal to pool in their stomachs. 

“yeah,” sakusa said. “clearly.”

“stop talking,” iwaizumi ordered. “and listen. beyond the g-spot is the cervix, which is basically the end of the vagina. if you’re long enough,” he briefly scanned each of their faces, “which i’m sure you are, you’ll be able to reach it if you bottom out.”

“haji—hajime, please.” the stimulation was coming absolutely unbearable, and you could tell he was sadistically holding you at the edge, refusing to give you the satisfaction of finishing. “lemme cum, please. please lemme cum, please, please, i can’t—i can’t take it ‘nymore!”

“what was that? you can’t take it anymore? gonna cum?” you helplessly bobbed your head up and down, hoping that he’d give you permission. “well,” he growled, “we can’t have that happening, can we?”

he abruptly halted his thrusts, pulling his fingers out of you with an embarrassing squelch and popping them into his mouth. pearly tears rolled down your cheeks as you grieved the loss of contact and relief.

your viewers looked on in horror, feeling immense sympathy for you; you just looked so dejected from being denied yet another orgasm.

“why didn’t you—why didn’t you let her cum?” bokuto asked.

“why do you think?” iwaizumi snapped. “don’t want you guys to see her when she does. that’s for me, and only me.”

“oh, okay,” he responded, disgruntlement clear in his voice.

iwaizumi’s glare could cut glass, it was so sharp. the possessiveness that had enveloped his mind made him hyperfocus on just one thought: being alone with you. “so, any other questions? if not, we’re done here.”

you pouted at that, not wanting the demonstration to be over. “but haji,” you mumbled into his collarbone. “i di’nt get to cum. and i wanna.” you looked up at him, eyes wide with want. “please make me cum.”

iwaizumi sent a harsh glance to the players that nonverbally communicated his message loud and clear: get out. they shuffled awkwardly out of the locker room due to the hardness between their legs that they would most definitely need to deal with soon.

your boyfriend turned his attention back to you. “’m sorry, i know i had to deny you a bunch of times. i just really hated the idea of anyone but me seeing the cute way you look when you cum.”

you made a small noise of acknowledgement and a little whisper of it’s okay, haji. he looked down, sensing the way your poor, desperate cunt was pulsing around nothing, the erotic sight injecting him with the pure need to ravage you.

he shifted his head to kiss you passionately. “why don’t i make it up to you?” he breathed between your parted lips before picking you up by the backs of your thighs, forcing you to lock your ankles around his waist. 

he delicately situated you onto one of the recovery beds at the back of the room, before murmuring something that made your pussy throb in anticipation: “i’ll make you cum whichever way you want, however many times you want, all right? all you gotta do is lay back and take it.”

© property of hornime 2021. do not plagiarize any of my writing and do not repost/copy my writing onto any other sites.

[charlestrask]

HI MTV IM SAUL GOODMAN AND WELCOME TO MY CRIB (PART 1 DUE TO TUMBLR IMAGE LIMIT)

HE HAS A MIRRORED CEILING ABOVE HIS BED

did not get a screencap of it but important to note that his bed had tiger print sheets on them. lol. SECOND OF ALL. alcoves for statues. [update: did not see it at first but there's also a stripper pole in front of the curtain] theres the little.. tray? mirror? idk what exactly it is on the right post of his bed. EYE want to say its for coke but thats my own saul goodman coke agenda. you can make of it what you will. his whole bed can be seen better in this screencap:

the scs are not THAT high quality but theyre from amc so blame them. its a circular four poster bed with a curtain around it and a MIRRORED CEILING and while we have no evidence that its a waterbed i want to believe it is because that fits in with the whole....everything he has going here. chandelier and columns everywhere.

okay on the way to the closet we’ve got just more classic #rich guy stuff, some nice candle holders, even more ties, tie holders, BUT YOU WILL SEE. ABOVE HIS CLOSET ENTRANCE. THE LEFT FACING COIN!!!!! FROM HIS SCAMS WITH MARCO!!! which i did not notice on first watch and is now making me very emotional.

here you can see his bedroom bar. very classy. window with that greek/roman meander pattern, which is also very prominent in his closet. clearly with that and the statues and paintings he’s going for a specific look. and that look is CLASHING PERIODS OF ART. if someone can identify that geometric piece the lady is taking down off of the wall there that would be great im no art historian

okay entering his closet we have a BEAUTIFUL floor. closet of his dreams guys!!

to the left you will see the shirts side of his closet. predominantly pink... gayass saul goodman

then his WALL OF SHOES. he seems to be trying to stay on the cutting edge at least in this area of fashion

this shot specifically i’m trying to figure out what logo is on his hat but i don’t have a lot to go on. if anyone knows.. YOU WILL NOTE! THAT THOSE WHITE SHOES W/ RED LACES. are the shoes he wears in his outfit for selling drop phones!!

kind of bad in-motion screenshot but just a small glimpse into the thousands if not millions of ties he owns. and organizes by color :)

PART 2 INCOMING. 

[cherrykindness]

wild tweets |

pairing: Harry Styles x Actress!Reader

summary: as newlyweds, you and harry read thirsty comments for buzzfeed.

warning: it's thirsty tweets, so below there is adult humor 😳

"It's a bright, sunny morning in Los Angeles, and there's nothing I want more than to be on BuzzFeed and read wild tweets alongside my husband."

"Thirsty tweets, babe." Harry corrected, laughing out loud with the producers behind the cameras.

"Thirsty Tweets." You said quickly, putting your hand over your mouth to stifle a giggle. "I'm terrible at that, I'm sorry. Can we start over?"

"Let's take a break for one to two minutes. You've given us a great introduction, Y/N."

You shook your head, smiling shyly before turning to Harry, who was already watching you with that easy smile at the corner of his lips. You liked how his hand remained firmly on yours, making those circular movements with the thumb that always served as a natural medice for your anxiety.

"You look so fucking beautiful."

The pleated dress with flounce sleeves fit you like a glove. You had made peace with the various shades of white since the wedding and knew that Harry liked to see you in that color too.

"Thank you, you're not too bad either, Styles."

You intimately suspected that Harry would always seem far beyond that "not bad" that came out as a euphemism from your mouth. He wore nothing but a pair of bell-bottom pants in a strong shade of blue and a soft vest printed with fluffy little sheep on a striped American collared shirt - in your opinion, no one could look better in farm animal clothing than Harry Styles and Princess Diana with her red "Black Sheep" sweater in the 1980s. In contrast, you knew your husband well enough to know that he was arrogant and knew exactly how hot he looked - you also made your thoughts clear enough when you kept him backstage beyond ten minutes in a rather heated kissing session.

"Are you anxious?" you asked curiously, remaining with downcast eyes fixed on the strokes that remained assiduous on your warm skin. "To read about how the whole internet dreams of fucking my wife?! Of course." Harry joked, leaning over to leave a small one on your cheek. "We agree on that, don't we? Although I'm a little nervous, I'm really interested to know all the crazy things they say about you. Everyone knows you're mine at the end of the day, that's enough."

At the end of the break, you and Harry made a silent agreement that you should be the first to pick up one of the scattered papers in the red pot. There were quite a significant amount of tweets, and as much as you were used to reading rather sordid things about your husband on the Internet, the excitement was there as if you were wading into uncharted territory.

"I would be a good girl all year round if Santa guaranteed me a threesome with Harry and Y/N Styles on Christmas Eve." You laughed, Harry staring at the camera with an expression close to the meme of the surprised Pikachu. "You guys are incredibly nasty, I love it."

"If that was the first one, I'm really worried about the next ones." Harry commented with a little corner smile, picking the next tweet out of the bucket. "I have an entire folder on Pinterest dedicated to Harry Styles' hands, and let me tell you why: those hands are art, and art needs to be recognized."

"What- Guys, you promised you wouldn't post my anonymous tweets here." You quipped with false reproach, laughing at your own stupid joke while everyone else in the studio did the same. "But I can't blame her, honestly." Shaking your shoulders, you opened another piece of paper. "Harry Styles finally confessed that he wrote Watermelon Sugar for Y/N!!!! Are you guys imagining the same thing as me?!!!!!! 🥵🍆💦"

"Exhausted emoji, eggplant emoji, and water emoji?" Harry frowned, staring at the tweet you held up. "I imagine you're in need of a vacation somewhere refreshing and you're craving a fruit that everyone eats like it's really a vegetable."

"That reminded me of that story-" You laughed, hiding your face on the table as Harry continued to offer a poker face to the camera, struggling not to keep up with you laughter. "I'm sorry, lovie, I have to share this with the rest of the world." You stated, wiping a few tears from the corner of your eyes. "Harry always wears those fancy suits to concerts, right?! Right! Turns out he looks really hot in some, like his ass molds perfectly into those tight pants and everything. I was home that night because I wasn't feeling well enough to face the big crowds, but I was still following everything on twitter. It was a concert in London, not so far from where we lived at the time, so it was obvious that he would come home after it was over. I follow some portals that do really fast updates of pictures, videos, etc; everything that happened at Harry's concert was on my timeline in a matter of seconds. When one of these profiles uploaded a picture of him with his back to the camera in a heavily accentuated black and white suit, I quickly sent him the image along with a peach emoji and then wrote "looks good tonight". He didn't reply to me until a few hours later, of course, but I obviously didn't expect a "ready for a Fifth Avenue peach salad for dinner?" and numerous cutlery emojis."

Harry rolled his eyes comically, indulging in laughter as did everyone else who occupied the backstage area.

"I'm against the eroticization of emojis." He said between uncompensated breaths, shaking his head negatively. "Let's go to the next ones, please, I'm already feeling exposed enough here."

"I like your old-fashioned spirit, baby." You assured him with a smile, laying on the sturdy shoulder hidden under the fluffy fabric.

Harry chuckled low, leaving a little kiss on the top of your head before selecting the next paper. The fans would die when that video aired, everyone was sure. You two easily forgot the cameras when you were side by side, and the public display of affection had never been a problem.

"My life mission is to look at someone the way Harry looks at Y/N and be reciprocated the way Y/N looks at Harry, then I could die happy." Harry read. "That was very good and healthy, thank you!" He smiled. "But don't settle for death in that case, please. Just make sure to keep that person around forever."

"Awn, we got so sweet now." You made a pout. "Thank you for sending us something so cute! I really hope you find the right person soon." Sending a kiss to the camera, you moved on to the next tweet. "I wouldn't want to get a golden ticket to visit Willy Wonka's factory, I would like to get a golden ticket to actively participate in Y/N and Harry Styles' Honeymoon.

"That was creative, so I will disregard the fact that you removed my last name from my wife's name." Harry joked.

"I will always be an Y/L/N." You flashed the tongue. "We had a great Honeymoon, but I know you guys already know all about it because there are pictures all over the internet of outings that I don't even remember existed."

"Even though we chose a rather reserved city, many paparazzi still managed to photograph some of our nights there." Harry agreed. "There was one particular day when we opted to have dinner at a restaurant near the beach. Y/N had found it even before the trip, it was pretty laid back and we could spend the evening at karaoke. I don't really remember what happened, but we woke up the next day with a terrible hangover, still wearing the clothes from the dinner and with several headlines saying that I was cheating on my wife in the middle of our Honeymoon with a blue-haired italian girl."

"That wig made me sexy, man." You blinked, laughing as you remembered the situation. "It's a shame the paparazzi only got low quality images, but I swear I looked really amazing that night. Italy, I miss you."

"We're coming to the end and I haven't had to ask production for a glass of water yet, thank you to whoever selected these tweets." Harry raised his thumb to the camera, smiling before turning his gaze back to the small paper he had chosen. "Y/N could literally punch me in the face and I would just bow down and thank them for it." He laughed. "She has heavy hands, so I would rethink that choice."

"It takes strong hands to be a superheroine." You blinked gracefully, referring to your works as a Marvel actress. "I move around a lot during the night, so I'll take this lovely opportunity to say that twitter can dismiss all the malicious theories about Harry always show up with a new bruise all over his body."

"Please stop making indecent assumptions while Y/N is aggressive with me at night only unconsciously, her father has access to social media."

You laughed, clearing your throat before reading the next obscenity aloud.

"I would sell all my possessions to have Y/N sitting on my lap for ten seconds."

"Oh my God." Harry laughed out loud, throwing his head back. "I should have said that in our wedding vows."

You shook your head, laughing low as you set the tweet aside.

"That was pretty funny and cheeky, I approve."

"Okay, looks like we finally got to the last one." Harry announced, waving the paper in the air dramatically before opening it. "Harry could literally crush me with those boots while fuc- I need that glass of water." He said dumbfounded, hiding his face between his hands after throwing the tweet over his shoulder. You laughed out loud next to the organizers, and meanwhile Harry leaned his head on your bust, staring at you still with wide eyes. "Please promise that we will be careful with our future children on the internet."