#ah the struggles of artists trying not to sell out

[llycaons]

SPEAK FOR YOUR TWO LIPS ARE FREE YOUR TONGUE IS STILL YOUR OWN!!!

[ashtraythief]

Hello! How you doing?

In thé underneath verse, Jensen has a russian guy killed from a previous asignment, it got me thinking, what if some criminals recognize him from being arrested by him or something, do you think Jared will believe them? How would Jensen explain it ?

Ah. Well, I think it really depends on who recognizes Jensen and how good their info and reputation is. And whether Jensen would be able to sell a believable reason why the person is mistaken or just lying. So honestly it could go either way.

I have to admit I have thought about it in the past, but it never felt like it really fit into the story. Too much drama lol. However it went something like Jensen being there when Jared, Chad, and Mike meet up with a weapons dealer and the guy recognizes Jensen. So when he’s introduced to Jensen Campbell, he’s not… subtle.

Like, this guy, let’s call him Kyle, is not the smartest tool in the shed, so he just blurts out. “Hey, I know you!”

“Excuse me?” Jensen asks mildly, while his heart starts beating wildly in his chest. The guy does look familiar to him.

“Yeah yeah.” Kyle is ridiculously excited to know the big boss’s husband. “Like five or six years ago, I delivered weapons to this paramilitary compound and you were there.”

It takes only a second to click. Before Jared, before Miami, Jensen spent a couple of months in flyover country, infiltrating a right wing militia building up an arsenal for some sort of dumbass revolution against big government. They were nut jobs, but they were heavily armed nut jobs who’d disappeared an IRS investigator.

“A paramilitary compound?” Jensen repeats to buy time. “Are you high?”

He sneaks a look at Jared and the guys. Chad and Mike just look amused, but Jared’s brows are pinching in a way Jensen isn’t sure whether that spells trouble for Kyle or for Jensen. It’s been a long time since Jared was suspicious of Jensen’s identity, but a blatant accusation like this could change things.

“No no,” Kyle blabbers on, “they were like a bunch of conspiracy nazi types living in the woods.”

“Conspiracy nazi types?” Jared’s voice is partially amused, partially annoyed. It doesn’t seem like he’s buying it. “Living in the woods?”

“I think you’re confusing me with someone else,” Jensen says, trying not to sound strained. “Though I don’t really know how you can confuse this face with someone else’s.”

“No, no.” Kyle’s gesticulating now. “I mean, you were like bald and, well, I mean, you had a tattoo…” He falters a little as he points at Jensen’s decidedly untattooed neck before he rallies again, “but it was you!”

Chad and Mike break out in laughter.

“Bald?” Chad sputters.

“A tattoo?” Mike adds. “What, Jensen—Jensen—with a swastika? Did you miss the part where he’s very, very gay? Not exactly part of the whole nazi thing.”

Even Jared huffs out an incredulous laugh.

Jensen fervently thanks past him for committing so hard to his cover that he shaved his hair down to half an inch and got a makeup artist to give him semi permanent SS tattoos.

“No. I mean, yes.” Kyle is really struggling now. “But I swear, it was him.”

“I don’t know what’s more unbelievable, Jensen shaving his hair or Jensen living in the woods.” Jared shoots Jensen a grin. “No offense, sweetheart, you’re not exactly the camping type.”

“I’m also not the nazi type,” Jensen bites out.

“Yeah, well that goes without saying.”

Kyle is still staring at Jensen, mouth opening and closing. “Yeah, but—I saw you!”

“Okay, that’s enough,” Jared cuts in. “I don’t care what you think you saw, you’re not going to spout some weird conspiracy shit about Jensen.”

“But—” Kyle finally stops arguing, though he doesn’t really look like he doesn’t believe Jensen wasn’t, well, Jensen.

Sorry for the late answer, anon, I knew I had this snippet saved somewhere, but it took me a while to find lol.

But yeah, Jensen is never going to be one hundred percent safe. And he knows it too. He just choses to ignore it sometimes.

[md3artjournal]

Ah, Copic markers😅

The more time passes, the more i feel like the rare few who got Copics, then tried digital art, didn't like it, and returned to Copics.😅

I was into other traditional mediums then got into Copics. I tried to get into digital art, only in recent years, and it's not going well. Too much friction in the process. I don't think I'll ever really get comfortable drawing on a screen. I've actually been getting more into traditional materials instead, by getting into fountain pens and dip pens. lol I went from 3 ink bottles to 10+. 😂

Yet my traditional drawings still don't look as good as the few digital drawings i struggled to complete.🪦👻

The funny thing is, when i got into artist's alcohol markers, it DID feel like magic. Before i got into Copics, i was super cheap with all my art supplies: Crayola markers, Crayola watercolors, color pencils (gift), ballpoint pens, hoarded cardboard, scratch paper, fabric scraps, etc. First thing I did out of art school, was buy hardware store paints, and make mini canvases out of old T-shirts and popsicle sticks, just to cleanse myself of all the wasteful guilt i had during classes, required to use high end painting supplies. I felt too uncomfortable trying to make art with expensive supplies. But then, one Comic Con, all the panels i wanted to attend, filled up, so i wandered into the one thing i could get into: a Prismacolor Premier workshop. They gave out a free marker and had us test out their other supplies too. And after years of streak marks with Crayola Super Tips (which if you learn to work with, can incorporate nice strokes into drawings), i was flabbergasted when those Prismacolor Premier marker strokes just melted into each other and disappeared!🤯

After that panel, I immediately went to exhibit hall to buy alcohol markers. And back then, i always attended Anime Expo, which almost always has a booth selling Copic Sketch makers for only $5. Every year, I'd buy Copics at Anime Expo. I tried their Gasenfude and got into brush pens. To this day, i still have my brother who still attends AX, pick up some Copics for me almost every year. And I've finally started buying Copics online, getting to know stores with frequent sales. I thought i might leave Copics for some other mediums (like ink, or learn digital, or return to watercolors), but Copics are still the fastest, best look for my work flow. I actually timed it, and when i use other mediums, a drawing takes me FIVE times longer. So i think I'm sticking with Copics.💕 (I don't have the money for this💸😅)

[crimsonblackrose]

.

Poor Stingray, looking so nervous coming into the dojo, to the man who hospitalized him.

The way Kenny is the first one to spot him, how all the students look confused.

Tory looks upset

Stingray looks uncomfortable but tries to stand tall as Terry circles him, and heaps praise on him.

The way Silver pats Stingray's shoulder and he involuntarily flinches and gasps.

Tory runs classes now.

Silver got Stingray an apartment, he says no ones done that before and he feels like a kept woman.

Silver calls Stingray his 'loyal soldier' and that he wants him living in style.

Oh man, Stingray you weren't ready for this yet. It was super brave but you are struggling. "I tend to do more then the least"

Return of the Cobra Kai charger

Stingray: Sensei Lawrence, er my ex-sensei used to have it.

It's wild how he quickly corrects himself because he realizes how dangerous it is to seem like he has an allegiance to any other sensei.

Silver: It was sensei lawrences.

I'm surprised he gave Johnny that title.

Silver says his car guy found it at an impound auction.

Silver throws him the keys, Johnny's lucky rabbit foot, all the other keys and keychains are gone. In the trunk of the car is a red cobra gi where instead of like sensei like Silver's has it says stingray

Ah. Olive Garden advertisement

Johnny tried parent trapping Robby and Miguel.

Johnny admits he lied to get them there and it's one of the first things he says. they look so unhappy.

I know you're both in bitchy moods because you just broke up with your girlfriends. (The confused looks on their faces realizing that they both broke up with their girlfriends at the same time) It's nice that Johnny actually knows that. Which means both of them talk to him about it. Miggy makes sense, but Robby is some pretty great progress.

They're on a trip to a mall in Chatsworth (16 mins from Reseda via car)

Henry is truly selling this Olive Garden advertisement mid show. And apparently Johnny knows Henry. (Henry's their server)

I mean, breadsticks are pretty great Robby.

A basket of breadsticks just for Johnny.

Speaking of Italy...er an American-Italian....Sad Daniel.

Try selling that to Amanda. Daniel, you're the salesman. You could've sold Amanda on this.

But the poor guy is just drowning in trauma and his worst nightmares.

I do appreciate that he's not alone, that Chozen is there still ready to fight Silver and also remind Daniel that his family will return,

808 Prospect St.

Kreese was sentenced to 2 years in prison. It's his first conviction. He was charged with aggravated battery and serious bodily injury. Stingray said Kreese was "violently unhinged" and gave an "emotional testimony". Kreese didn't have an alibi for the night of the attack and there was enough circumstantial evidence for the jury to decide in about an hour that he was guilty. The judge was Harold T. Stone. Stingray (Raymond Porter) said he might file civil charges as well.

Chozen very carefully and gently stops Daniel from drinking more and pours him a glass of either water or coffee?

Welcome to the midwest. Ohio:

Joanne, Amanda's mother. Not the aunt in California who owns the pottery store (who was an aunt pat)

JESSICA ANDREWS!!!! (same subtitles, same)

Jessica calls Amanda, Mandy, and Amanda calls Jessica Jessie.

Clearly Amanda didn't update on the fact Daniel didn't come with, also, how dare they. How dare the creators of this bring Jessica Andrews back and not put her and her bestie Daniel LaRusso in the same scene????

She brought him 10 lbs of mac and cheese and asks the kids where their old man is.

I forgot this was in this episode. Prepare for a lot of shots of the beer can recycled art project.

Beer can cactus.

And another plant??????

Lol jail doors made out of duct tape coors boxes.

The PIZZA BOX PORTRAITS

The one on the right looks so Bishie. It also looks kinda like it's two different artists did it. The handwriting is even different.

Robby not even like blinking at the fact his dad turned his apartment into a n arts and crafts wild west project.

"I did some internetting"

He found a lot of building team work stuff through cooperative exercises and the least lame to him sounded like an escape room. Aww he's putting a lot of effort into this.

Johnny reversed the doorknobs so it's locked from the inside, creating an actual escape room.

The only key just went down the garbage disposal, Johnny as a guy who did maintenance work, that had to have screwed something up and you know it.

He also glued the windows shut.

Their theme is the Lincoln County War, it's the plot of Young Guns 2.

Miguel saw it with Johnny (Johnny forgot)

Rosa and her cowboy out fit. I love that she cosplayed for this.

I love this. This means Johnny did all this research, built all this stuff, asked Rosa to help him, gave her lines (that she wrote on her palm), set it all up, practiced his own lines, reversed the door knobs and glued the windows, and then summoned the kids. And all for naught.

It was a good try and a lot of wasted effort. But, this type of thing is so fun.

Johnny truly is picking up Spanish, or at least he knows "I screwed up" which ow. Because she says it in Spanish and he softly says "No Rosa, I did, Again." And then she leaves, locking Robby and Johnny in the apartment. I guess he's gotta do the escape on his own.

Daniel's afternoon messages to Amanda, due to the time difference between LA and Ohio, it'd be 4pm where Amanda and the kids are.

Chozen trying to give advice when he realizes Amanda hasn't texted back and that Daniel isn't paying attention to their stakeout.

Asking some great questions here Daniel. That's Johnny's old car, Kreese put him in a coma and he's in a Cobra Kai billboard on wheels?

Daniel doesn't even tell Chozen he's going in, but Chozen realizes it and hurries to catch up, moving fast enough to only be like a half a second behind. Chozen's out here legit using his karate training for things I doubt he ever thought he would.

Stingray is only partially moved in. He's still in boxes. I do like the giant snake carpet.

Pretty sure he's singing Judas by Fozzy probably on purpose.

The way Stingray looks behind him, like he's not alone. Like Daniel, just rushing in isn't a good choice. Especially when Stingray is trying to kinda hint he's not alone.

cobra kai has completely changed since Sensei Silver took over "It's about loyalty and dicipline" (and very softly to Daniel "and loyalty") Like I feel like he's trying to hint but very aware that his every move is probably being watched or listened to, or scared that it is.

Chozen says: Ninja level gaming system

I don't know if that means he knows who that streamer is but that's what Stingray takes it as.

Stingray is not looking Daniel in the eye for almost anything he says.

Chozen has to reel Daniel in. "You are not yourself."

Accurate. For 5 seasons he's been spiraling from trauma/grief and without his family there and silver around it's a million times worse.

Chozen: He is also no stingray, he is turtle, if pressed retreat further into shell.

Apparently Amanda used to play video games a lot in the 80s, had top score on the game in this bar. (Until she got into underage drinking)

I can't believe childhood gamer Amanda doesn't play video games or try to bond with Anthony over games. I also can't believe this is the most positive family interaction we've seen with Anthony in so long where someone is actually being positive about his love for video games.

Jessica just got back from climbing in the Gorge an both the girls are working out that way. Amanda's maiden name is Steiner

This is Lizzie-Anne (Elizabeth Anne Rooney, aka the girl who stole Jessica's boyfriend and one of the reasons Jessica went to California in the first place)

Johnny is scraping the glue off his windows.

The way Daniel runs in is...such a choice. He looks drunk or hungry or both and looking for something.

Daniel asking Johnny to get Stingray to flip on Silver.

Daniel did you leave Chozen waiting in the car again?

Daniel: Enough of your family B plot, get back in the A plot karate soap opera again with me.

Daniel tried to push every button he could think of.

and now you want to fight me because I don't want to get pulled back into this rivalry with Silver?

Again, not a rivalry with Silver.

Earnestly and calmly: What's going on with you man?

Talking to Johnny for some perspective was the cold water on the face Daniel needed.

Johnny: Way off the rails, look at you, your shirts not even tucked in.

Johnny gives him a coors, asks if Amanda let him leave the house like that and learns that Amanda's at her mother's with the kids in Ohio.

Sam you're supposed to be on a journey of self discovery, what are you doing on your phone?

Sam you were there when Kenny kicked Anthony into the pool How did you not know that that was why you all got kicked out of the water park?

Anthony finally tells Sam about his issues with Kenny, though I thought they'd at least started talking about it earlier in the summer.

The way Amanda name drops Terry Silver and Jessica coughs on her beer.

Jessica put Amanda in touch with Daniel when Amanda went to LA.

Headlines don't do it justice. Correct Jessica. Very correct.

'First he pretended to be his friend, then his mentor, while his goons wrecked his bonsai shop, beat him up, assaulted me, terrorized Daniel at every opportunity. All to drive a wedge between Mr. Miyagi and Daniel and it worked.'

Yeah, Amanda you didn't know it got that intense because Daniel never told you. He thought he could push past his trauma and move on and instead it just sprung up like you said an awful wack a mole

Jessica, he may have 'got past it back then' but I think it's been more like hiding an open wound, he need to heal it. And he needs support if he's going to get past it now.

Thank you Amanda!

She's right. And part of what I think Cobra Kai is is that Johnny and Daniel have never got over their trauma. But it's more 'noticable' for Johnny who when the show started didn't have his life together. He was drunk all the time, he didn't really have much a job and he didn't care about himself. Daniel on the other hand I think it was less noticeable for the people in his life or who knew him because rather than stay stuck due to the trauma, Daniel pushed forward. Probably a lot of which was due to Mr. Miyagi.

But he was walking a tight rope and as soon as he saw Johnny the tight rope sort of wobbled but he still had it because, look how high he'd gotten. But as soon as Cobra Kai popped up he fell.

Daniel: I left her a bunch of bourbon soaked messages but she hasn't called me back.

lol the way Johnny looks around like he's trying to decide whether to give advice or not or even what to say because this is new. But he looks at his couch where he gave good advice to Miguel on before trying.

family is your strong suit, which always annoyed me. I'm sure you've always had hiccups before and got through them, there's no reason this would be different, just keep your head out of your ass.

That's a valid point.

Johnny: so much for Goggle's advice on conflict resolution

Daniel: Hmm, surprised you know how to goggle, let alone the phrase conflict resolutiion.

Ah, there he is.

Awww, he reassured Johnny too after Johnny didn't rise to the bait and he realized Johnny was being sincere. "You clearly care about them both and will work something out whether it's this new tech savvy Johnny or something more...(grins into his beer) Johnny Classic"

"Tell anyone I said that and we're really going to fight again."

Bud, literally you have a great time every time you hang out with Johnny.

Maybe if we weren't stopped by a 3 point system we would've gotten it all out of our system.

I hope Chozen at least had snacks in the car.

Anthony tells Sam Robby stopped Kenny before it got worse at the tournament.

Babe Ruthless was the nickname Mandy had and now Lizzie-Anne says "Does miss costal elite not like to be reminded of where she came from?"

Lol. I forgot Jessica says "Blow it out your ass Rooney."

I think Johnny would also really like Jessica.

Elizabeth-Anne has like 5 friends with her. Jessica gets one by her hair, one holds Amanda's arms back and the other holds her legs so Elizabeth can punch her but Sam runs in and kicks her in the side.

the whole gang runs out asap, including Anthony after that.

Chozen out here being the greatest, always. Packing up to go home, but saying he doesn't want to because they didn't defeat Silver so he feels like a failure and Daniel apologizes for wasting his time "Never waste of time defending Miyagi-do honor, nor helping a friend."

Daniel's going to go apologize to Raymond.

Johnny all the people in your apartment complex hate you right now.

Johnny has given up on trying to get these two into a 'get along t-shirt' and now has set up the baby fighting ring.

"Is that all you've got? I Thought you guys were sworn enemies."

Miguel gets a kick to Robby's face and draws blood.

Those were some cool moves Robby.

Robby kicks Miguel in the face, sending him through the door and up into the upper floor.

Johnny "stairwell is out of bounds"

"Why'd you hold back?"

"I didn't get into karate to hurt people. I did it to be badass and find balance."

Robby barely knew where they were in the last fight, he got so mad he got tunnel vision and would take it back in a second if he could.

Robby slowly hugs his dad first and Miguel like runs at Johnny to hug him.

Anthony and Sam are having White Castle. Sam offers to teach Anthony and fast forward past the chores part, just he can't tell dad. "No problem, I've been lying to him for years."

"We just got in a bar fight over nothing, mean while Daniel has every reason to hate silver."

I think after Johnny (who turned out okay) and Kreese, Amanda needed to hear it from someone else. Someone who'd been there who could tell her what happened since Daniel couldn't voice it.

Like, Jessica left in November, she wasn't there for the all-valley, or a lot of it. And if it was this bad just for her, I feel like it should be very telling of how much Daniel tried to bury and didn't quite manage to fully bury.

Johnny went back to Olive Garden (who btw if you didn't know, their tagline is "Here you're family" which I find hilarious and probably the whole point he took them there)

"I wouldn't lie to you, 3 times on the same day." (He's keeping track, because he truly doesn't lie much at all)

He set up the Olive garden dinner at the Diaz's. Which is a wild choice.

Awww "I hope it's cool I'm having dinner here." "it's more than cool, you're welcom here any time Robby."

Look at Robby, once homeless, now having multiple people and places he can safely stay at, multiple places where people will welcome him and he can call home.

lol Carmen

Johnny: No of course not, they beat each other into submission. Don't worry it was supervised. It was LaRusso's idea.

Look at him, even giving Daniel credit.

Johnny realizing that maybe he needs to help Daniel if he's messing with SIlver, now that he's fixed his family issue he can go help.

Daniel going in while the door is open. Not a good choice man.

He bought a new playstation as an apology. And ah there's Silver.

Daniel: I'm out of this war, I surrender, the Valley is yours.

Daniel tries to leave and Silver steps in the way. And then he pushes the right buttons, talking about Daniel's wife and kids and Daniel strikes first.

I was trying to figure out how Silver knew Daniel would be here, but Daniel says he left a message. Daniel, you gotta stop leaving messages.

I truly hope TIG had fun reprising this role. Terry Silver was his first film role. (Two TV shows before that)

I want to point out that Daniel punches the wall so hard it makes holes in the wall next to Terry's head. He really is trying very hard in this fight.

The no longer playing cat and mouse moves Terry uses is to kick Daniel's punch away, grab his arm, pull it back/hold it and strike his arm, kick him in the stomach, then kick him in the face. Then he put his boot on Daniel's neck and says not to look at this as an act of mercy, he wants Daniel alive for what happens next which is more pain. Then he throws a towel down and leaves.

Tory says that things were supposed to be better after the tournament, but they've just been getting worse. She's becoming someone she doesn't want to be.

Robby fixes the door to their apartment.

Tory says she delivered anonymous notes that could put people in danger (I think she sent the newspaper clipping)

I think Chozen must've called Amanda. I don't know whether he waited for Daniel and realized he wasn't home and went to get him and found him, or if like Johnny after his fight with Silver that after a while he picked himself up and got himself home.

But Johnny and Amanda are there now. And it even hurts for Daniel to swallow.

Johnny also showed up in his red hoodie which is very reminiscent to Daniel's in TKK and is greeted by Amanda who looks upset and Chozen.

And Tory of course is talking to Kreese.

[yourmomsandy]

Pointing at things as I see them:

The art market diss track part 1

-nobody is safe.

💰💰💰💰💰💰💰💰💰💰💰

Let me paint you a picture. You are an arts student:

Hahahahah what a dumbass 🤡. This was your first mistake 🤣. You should have done something else with your life like your dad told you to.

What do we do now that we are already here, though? Will all of us be broke? I know many struggling artists, but I also see many rich ones in gallery openings and online. Which of us will be which? Today we are talking about money moves.

*sniff* *sniff*...what's that smell? Do I smell a POOR?????

Let's start with the simple stuff:

Are you a painter?

Do you work with sculpture?

Potery?

Printing?

Drawing?

(Any other traditional medium ?)

If you said all of the above or any one of them, then congradulations!! You are very easy to SELL. Your work will forever be stuck to sales because the very medium you use was birthed via some sort of exchange. Maybe you could connect back to neolithic cave paintings, but let's be real. Painting/ sculpture/ other traditions as we know them today began with commission work. Face the music 🙈.

If you do anything else, then don't worry. You can also SELL. Capitalism is very clever, and we have found ways to sell even the most untraditional mediums! EVERYONE CAN BE A SELL OUT!!! You, me , your mom, your uncle Steve, talkative bus Jen.

That's right! Performance people, "new media" people, ""digital"" hommies, land art lovers, conceptual hotties. Don't you dare think you have escaped the pits of money laundering just because you decided to be different halfway through your degree.

RELAX

Your art, too, will be part of a tax evasion tactic.

I know some of you may be shocked or distraught by this realisation but it is fundamental you strip these flawed self notions of highness before we continue.

Leave it in the clothing hanger by the door please.

...

So much lighter right?

Ok.

Let's dig in >:)

If there is one thing art does well, it is selling. It is the key concern nowadays. Before even fully defining itself, art is quick to sell. Why is that?

If surviving off of selling my art alone means chaining the work to the market (whichever one you pick), then should I choose not to be successful? -Assuming I have the choise. HA. I'm really whipping out the comedy show today.

QUICK, google if it's too late to turn back now and become a painter whose work doesn't address anything but pleases the eye . Call it "painting about painting" or the term I coined "visual pornography." I WANNA SELL. I TAKE IT ALL BACK.

Just kidding.............

Lately, I have paid CLOSE attention to this trend. A lot of art is looking to sell. Previous dissociations of art from the market have been undone, if they ever existed to begin with. All art is in the market no matter what Marina Abramovic may tell you. Artists with a "career" or looking to get one may not be selling in the same places, but they sell nonetheless.

Some sell paintings,

Some get grants,

Some auctions,

Some have private investors (this is very real just go to london for a weekend)

Some apply to residencies, competitions, etc

Join any art group, and you will see that this will be the hot topic. Going through ways of income. "Opportunities."

Is there really any difference between selling out to a commercial gallery or selling out in the art market or selling out for an arts grant application? OR selling out to a museum??

Do you remember when NFTS happened and people shat on them. The same artists that did were selling at Sotheby's. They were just trying to pull focus, you dummie 😜. Don't get me wrong, they were horrible, but it's FUNNY, to say the least. Hearing oil painters talking about the ecological impact of NFTS. QUICK, where does your oil rEAlLy go ????

Are you showing at (insert big gallery)? Oh, ok...........

Right.

The NFT moment only revealed how much people were focused on them dolla billz.

*Megan Thee Stallion* Ah 👅

🤑🤑🤑 Artists who never touched the digital because they fetishized the analogue (and feared anything that didn't allign with historically defined mediums) were suddenly morphing into middle-aged reddit tech bros. The Marina nfts were... something. Not necessarily within this category of profiles, but I am writing it down so you know I have not forgotten.

I always looked at the academic scene as the contrasting force to this issue. See? I am bad, too. Booboo, the fool.

The more I progress in life, the more I realise it all works in similar ways. Just different fonts to the same sentiment.

M

O

N

E

Y

And they copy each other's structures. Employing exactly the same methods of "employment." Briefs in open calls reflect what the market is looking for, BIG institutional shows do the same. Content loses meaning, as artists jump from viral term to viral term.

Example:

I never thought about the antropocene much, but I guess, for this application, I could connect my art to it by drawing loose comparisons over the overarching impact of human society.

LOL

Note: I'm not saying the work would be bad or good. Nor am I commenting on the antropocene. It's the thought process that seems poor. If one is passionate about something, let that be out of a need to dissect, deconstruct, or maybe look at, or simply enjoy. NOT to snag the next big opportunity. Where is the critical lens, anyways? If you only looked at the antropocene or any other contemporary train of thought AFTER a brief then what? What are you really doing?

The amount of AI usage in catalogues/ shows I have seen from people who could care less about tech is WILD. WE GET IT, you wanna feel new... just go to the club bestie and order a tequila shot. I saw a show that, granted, was a massive slay, but it didn't address AI (with all due respect). It used it in one of the pieces, but it dialogued very little with technology. Why then would the artist feel inclined to frame the work within that discourse. It couldn't possibly be discourse because nobody was talking 😶🫥. The artist had nothing to say about this. Addressing something on mute 🔇. Maybe using AI as a work/conceptual accessory at most. This was done for__________(I'll let you fill in the blank)

You know what especially IRKS ME??

Not only is art an atm machine, but it is ALSO a best friends race?? Curators, art dealers, facilitators, or the recent it girl term "cultural producer" (LMAO). Call yourself what you wish but often times you are

SOCIALITES.

It has little to do with the work. Just selective v.i.p 4th grade birthday party invites. Survival of the friendliest? Not even. Perhaps of the most passive. Probably.

Anyways... I'll put that on hold. We'll talk about corruption in another post.

Back to money talk.

I thought perhaps I could do the classic fine art career tangent. Anyone into starting a micro buiseness and using our transferable skills ? 🤓

Inspo bellow:

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[pissthena]

Hmmm.. Hakon x aiden suggestions…

Maybe one of those “there was only one bed” scenarios? Maybe they decided to have some fun parkour, lost track of time, end up being chased by zombies and are stuck in a safe zone until morning, with only one bed

I couldn't help myself.

Sharing a bed!

TRUE ART

It was hard to hear much with the wind blowing in your face, but it was impossible to miss the prominent yelp behind him. “Oh shit!” Bringing himself to a halt, Aiden almost slipped, trying to turn around to decipher the origin of the call. Not far behind him was a struggling Hakon, halfway down a ledge, holding on for dear life. “Eh, give me a hand, kiddo?” He laughed awkwardly, slowly skidding downward. The younger man was quick to be by his side, pulling him up. Hakon brushed himself off with a small smile, silently thanking Aiden. He looked up at the sky, which was slowly turning darker, into what could have been a beautiful night, if the world hadn’t gone to shit. “Ah, shit. We forgot the time.” A sigh escaped his lips, the smile fading away. “We have to find shelter quickly. I don’t want to face any more Volatiles than necessary.” Aiden nodded, scanning the area as fast as he could. The buildings around them towered above them, making them seem small and insignificant in this vacant world. It was beautiful, probably something you’d paint and sell for a million. Maybe, he wouldn’t know. Most of the known pieces had been lost to fire and chaos. He wondered if Hakon could paint. He had once mentioned a French art piece called “Le Printemps” and how much he had liked it, when he was younger. It didn’t ring a bell to Aiden, but he was willing to bet it was beautiful. Though he wasn’t sure how you’d determine a beautiful painting. As far as Hakon had explained, there was a bunch of hideous art pieces that were popular, because blind people thought they were pretty. Hakon had raved about the artist, Pierre-Auguste Cot, whom he meant was great. Aiden had commented that he really didn’t come across as an art person, whereas he had only shot back with a “The beautiful ones were worth a lot before.”.

Coming back to his thoughts Aiden saw the top of a shelter, standing out in the night sky. “The closest nightrunner hideout is on top of that building.” He pointed upwards, towards a slightly taller building, with a small UV light shining through the night sky. With not a thought to spare, the older man was gone, calling out a single “Beat you there!” before bolting towards the glowing spot. It did not take Aiden long before he raced along, a smile spreading on his lips. Like Hakon was going to beat him. Not in a million years. He caught up to Hakon in a moment before leaping over the edge of the building with incredible confidence. He smacked himself into the wall of the opposite building, scurrying his way up, like a human spider, crawling on basically nothing. Reaching the top, he looked back down, his eyes meeting a pair of wide eyes, shining in the UV’s glow. “How the Hell-” Hakon shook his head, either confused or impressed. Aiden hoped he was impressed.

It wasn’t like it was hard for Hakon to crawl up, but Aiden sure did make it look like child’s play. With a few good hops and a helping hand from the younger man, he was quick to be standing on the roof beside Aiden, who immediately went to look at the camp, before letting out a sigh of disbelief.

“What’s the matter, kiddo?” Hakon strolled over to him, taking in the surroundings of grass, moss and flowers, painting the ground around the shelter with colours.

“There’s one bed.” He gestured exasperated towards the singular bed. “What do we do? I don’t know how far it is to the next shelter.” Aiden looked towards the man besides him, who seemed to be thinking hard, if judging from the way he was scratching his beard. Aiden couldn’t help but stare, the man was a work of art. Not that he’d truly seen any, but if he had to guess, it would all have to look like Hakon.

“What do you say?” A voice pulled him from his thoughts. “Huh?” Aiden blinked, trying to focus on the man in front of him, receiving a slightly annoyed groan. “Don’t make me repeat myself. You have to be doing this on purpose.” Hakon rolled his eyes, turning to the bed beside them. “The bed. We can.. Did you really not hear me? Or are you fucking with me?” He looked back at Aiden, who only squeaked in response, confusion painted on his face. “Fuck. Fine.” Taking in a small breath, he gestured at the bed. “Share.”

Aiden looked at him, raising an eyebrow, as if to beckon the man to explain further. “Oh, come on! Are you going to play the oblivious card?” Hakon huffed, shifting in his place. “We can share the bed. If you want to. Or I can see if I can find another shelter.”

He looked towards Aiden, carefully, as if he would laugh at him at any moment.

Aiden nodded.

“Makes sense. There is only one bed, and who knows how far the nearest shelter is.” He lied. He knew exactly where the nearest shelter was, which wasn’t far from there, but Hakon didn’t need to know. Aiden had mapped the whole town, every shelter and camp was written down, but if he got to share a night with Hakon that close to him? Fuck that map for now.

Hakon nodded, dropping his back besides the generator, before plopping down next to it. Making himself comfortable on the bed, he looked up at Aiden, who was once again staring. “Earth to Aiden. You good?” He chuckled when Aiden blinked, bringing himself back to reality, a blush colouring his ears.

“Huh? Oh, yeah.” He cleared his throat, crouching down next to the other man. “So uh.. How do we?.. How do I-” He kept fumbling over his words, trying to pick the right one, but none seemed to fit. A strong hand grabbed around his wrist, pulling him down onto the small bed with a thump. The blush now grew to his whole face, as he laid with his head on Hakon’s chest, breathing his scent. It smelled familiar and comforting. Hakon tried his best to hide his own growing blush, looking away with a shy grin. “Sorry kiddo, you seemed to need a hand.” He chuckled letting go of Aiden’s hand, that had lingered a bit too long. “Lay however you’d like to be comfortable.” He stretched out his body with a yawn, and closed his eyes, leaving Aiden lying on his chest, eyes wide as a deer caught in headlights. He tried to calm his hammering heart, but judging from the beating in Hakon’s chest, he wasn’t as calm as he seemed. After a minute or two, Aiden finally moved, stretching his legs out. He looked up at the older man, who seemed to have managed to fall asleep. He couldn’t help but admire the face in front of him. He laid his head back down on the chest, feeling it rise and fall with each breath, never moving his gaze away from the beautiful man in front of him. Each scar tells its own story and God, Aiden wants to hear the stories of them all. A relaxed sigh escaped his lips, his eyes fluttering closed with a deep feeling of content.

Yeah. This had to be what art was.

[snejkha]

A silly art question, if you don't mind: what helps you to design such diverse, unique adopts of every species, color scheme, body type, etc. (and with their own incredible outfits no less!)? You are the only artist I know who whips out beautiful adopts that are all vastly different from each other and have their own distinct personalities and appearances and fashion senses incorporated into their designs even when you start them from a base in like the span of a day, and I'm just stunned by how you can put that much creativity into characters you create from scratch in such a short time 😳 Like, I want to design my own characters with as much love as you design characters you're going to sell, but my dumb brain goes "Today I will make a mermaid." and comes up with a crazy detailed backstory for this conceptual mermaid, and then it does the loading screen for five years while I struggle to visualize the first thing about them... And you're out here making individual outfits for adopts on top of making the adopts themselves utterly gorgeous and super detailed, and I was just wondering if you've got any tips for someone who is utterly in awe of everything you do but cannot begin to put their own character ideas into art 😖💕

Sorry this got so lengthy, haha... 😅

Awh thats not a silly question at all//

I usually try and diversify and push different bodytypes and features with most of my adopts/ (even the ones on base I try to modify them atleast a lil bit// and ah I mostly try to think like the character and do the whole " If I was a funky lil imp what would I wear? or what would be practical or cool to wear?" Taking a look into nature and history is a good choice too Id say/

I got three different sources for clothing and jewelry references that I combine and meld together to make something interesting (and ngl doing clothes is very hard for me cause I feel like I usually choose the sameish stuff hh/) I have multiple pinterest boards and two discord servers to use for inspiration as well as a costume history book from time to time/

Id say references are always your friend/ and thinking about the story or character of the design helps a bunch too/ try to experiment as well, yes you can give the centaur lil shoes if you want and stuff like that/ Designing characters is so much fun to do so heck ye to more diverse and colorfull designs//

[jangmi-latte]

May i request headcanons for all dorm leaders reacting to a drunk s/o. Thank you!

❞ 𝐓𝐢𝐩𝐬𝐲? ��𝐫𝐮𝐧𝐤? 𝐎𝐫 𝐒𝐚𝐜𝐫𝐢𝐟𝐢𝐜𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐘𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐒𝐨𝐮𝐥 𝐅𝐨𝐫 𝐘𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐁𝐨𝐲𝐟𝐫𝐢𝐞𝐧𝐝?  ❝

➻ content: four doughnuts!

➻ warnings: slightly nsfw on leona’s part!! mentions of alcohol!

➻ comments: since i haven’t tweaked my rules *wink* just yet, i’ve made coco use the cafe’s wheel to pick four dorm leaders for this request! hope you don’t mind! also, i don’t and haven’t drunk alcohol — ma'am this is a cafe —, therefore i did as much research (also known as making my waiters drunk) as i can when it comes to being drunk. cough also from seeing my relatives and friends go drunk cough.

Ⅰ.

༄ kalim is from a wealthy family so it’s no surprise he’s exposed to alcohol, mostly wine but kalim – being as he is still under age – doesn’t really like drinking.

༄ what he didn’t expect was for someone to sneak alcohol into one of his banquets unnoticed. even jamil didn’t notice due to his hectic schedule.

༄ sam, what have you been selling in your shop–

༄ it was a clear liquid. having nearly the same viscosity as water, you were unaware of how much you were drinking. let’s say you’re unaware of what alcohol tastes like. sure, it tastes weird but oh boy, the heat that spread out through your neck and body was quite addictive. the way it tickles your tongue makes you giggle at times.

༄ this is some odd kind of water huh, just what else does the land of hot sands have?

༄ as it was your first time drinking, it wasn’t a surprise to see you get drunk after three glasses. apparently, it was white wine. is kalim familiar with this kind of alcohol? yes. but he doesn’t know it was being served.

༄  kalim started to notice your sudden change in demeanour when you started to giggle a lot. you would suddenly cling on his arm or nuzzle your nose against his neck. 

༄  kalim's delighted by your affection, oblivious to the fact you're drunk as fuck and will continue to giggle out of nowhere.

༄ if jamil pointed out your sudden change of attitude, kalim would go “oooohhh” and just laugh along with you.

༄ now jamil would question if kalim’s drunk too.

༄ if your laughing would go out of control, ah, our little sunshine would try to stop you and drag you away. you’re light and you’re not struggling so he could easily drag you away from the banquet and into a spare room that’s next to his.

༄ if you woke up with a hangover the next day, kalim is immediately by your side while also asking help from jamil to tend to you. 

༄ you can not get away from his stories and it would make you extremely embarrassed that you suddenly turned into a maniac during one of his parties. did anyone take a video? who knows. 

༄ you now hereby made a mental note not to drink alcohol ever again. just wait till you go to kalim’s hometown where there’s A LOT of alcohol to drink. you can’t avoid it but hey at least you know how you act when you’re drunk.

༄ kalim won’t be talkative about what happened but can you guarantee it won’t slip from his lips every now and then every time a banquet is brought up to a conversation?

Ⅱ.

༄ okay, let’s give more attention to leona’s homeland, yeah?

༄ so there’s a party. it’s not dedicated to anyone, perhaps it’s an event or an occasion for the land. the royal household mostly consists of adults, it’s pretty self-explanatory that there will be alcohol.

༄ leona is used to the taste of alcohol. he isn’t exactly an active drinker but his tolerance is high. it would take him how many glasses before he’s drunk. there are different types of alcohols on the table. ranging from beer to whiskey. heck, there’s even absinthe.

༄ he chose to drink the safest alcohol served and that was a martini. since leona doesn’t want to interact with anyone – his brother is loud and catching most of the attention anyways – he just sat at the sides. he couldn’t really sleep with how loud his home was.

༄ what caught his emerald eyes was you. Oh man, was he surprised. you were easily drinking shots and shots of vodka without any trouble. sure he has seen you drink before but seeing you be this energetic and even rather frisky was….quite a turn on.

༄ though he is quite worried, he would love to see what happens when you get drunk. he thought you would just drop and fall asleep on the table.

༄ hell no.

༄ the moment you spotted him with half-lidded eyes, you sauntered over to him with a shot in had and sat on his lap. was he bothered? not in the slightest but he would glare at some men who would stare at you being all wanton on him.

༄ his first instinct? protect you. sure, you’re tipsy or drunk but that doesn’t mean leona would take this as an advantage and just have sex with you despite your seductive advances. he doesn’t mind you being all sexy on him but you don’t know what you’re doing, it’s his turn to pull the responsible card in the relationship.

༄ your consent is very important to him and drunk isn’t consenting.

༄ another thing, he wants you to just put a show for him ONLY, not in public. he’s possessive but your body is for his eyes only. 

༄, when you pressed your lips against his, leona would kiss you back for a brief second before pulling away once he noticed your sultry touches. you’re whining but this is leona’s chance to carry you to his room. both your drinks left downstairs while he just cuddles you to bed. 

༄ he’ll stop any of your persuasive actions since he could see you’re eyes drooping. he can make love to you some other time. sober you is better. if you won’t stop, ah leona would just passionately kiss you ‘til you eventually passed out.

༄ but that wouldn’t stop any future teasing from him. he’s not gonna lie, it was sexy to see you try and dominate him but again, be sober. 

Ⅲ.

༄ like leona, vil is not an exception to the haven’t-encountered-or-drank-alcohol-ever gang. being a  popular influencer/model/artist means being invited to gatherings or after production dinners.

༄ he had a couple drinks here and there but vil doesn’t like getting drunk or even intoxicating himself too much. he knows what a drunk mind can do and he has an image to hold to even let something as getting drunk slip his mind. 

༄ in short, vil hasn’t experienced getting drunk and avoids doing so.

༄ he’s also picky with what alcohol he consumes. he prefers those that have a small alcohol percentage, those that don’t leave a smell, and those that aren’t strong to taste. he’s strict with his beauty regimen.

༄ so, let’s say you were invited to one of vil’s productions and had an after-production dinner. it wasn’t exactly a formal dinner, just a casual one held by the director in a private restaurant.

༄ there was wine and brandy. our dear model picked wine, of course, and you somehow got curious with the taste of brandy. he wouldn’t stop you, he simply warned you to keep the amount stable and not drink too much. he’ll keep an eye on you just in case you might get carried away. better safe than sorry.

༄ vil took only one glass and was drinking it slowly while you looked like you were going to puke. but it was somehow addicting so you took another shot. he was occupied by conversing with other artists/staff that he would simply look at you from the corner of his eye at all times.

༄ up until he noticed you leaning on your hand propped up by your elbow and just staring at the glass did he finally approach you and immediately asked how many shots did you take.

༄ “four....?” you slurred before pulling him to sit next to you and leaning on his shoulder while hugging his arm. 

༄ you were quiet, thank goodness you weren’t really that drunk, but you’re intoxicated alright.

༄ “vil…?” “yes?” “what is rook doing over there?”

༄ okay, now you’re hallucinating. you were pointing at a staff member who nearly had the same haircut as rook. it was his cue to bring you back to pomefiore. Once he was able to excuse himself, he helped you stand up.

༄ sadly, you couldn’t really walk properly without tripping and all that so let’s be thankful that vil does weights. he isn’t keen to the idea of carrying you back and calling a cab to head back since it isn’t really a sight to see.

༄ so, he called rook and made him open the mirror while he carried you bridal-style back to the dorm.

༄ epel is jealous after he found out you were able to have alcohol.

Ⅳ.

༄ we’re going to add our king of hearts to the haven’t-encountered-or-drank-alcohol-ever gang.

༄ okay, maybe just the never-drank-alcohol-gang.

༄ riddle has a strict regimen on himself too. he considers alcohol as a junk food so it’s a big no to him. it’s also going to be a taboo for his mother. 

༄ along with kalim, he’s still a minor. alcohol is not that really discussed with anything involved in a conversation with him. academics and schools are top priority, alcohol has no space in his brain nor diet.

༄ he’s not dumb with what alcohol looks like though, so when he saw you drinking beer when he visited ramshackle, he was beyond confused and surprised. his antennas shot up too.

༄  he would scold and question on why you’re drinking something that can harm your liver and you just calmed him down by saying you barely even drink these and that you needed relief from school requirements. you also reassured it was only one bottle and you would drink it slowly. you won’t get drunk.

༄ our king of hearts is confused. since when was alcohol a mood reliever?

༄ he would huff and keep an eye on you despite being all cranky. you would just giggle it off and begin doing your homework again while he tutors you. both of you wouldn’t even notice the increasing bottles of beer that’s popping up beside you as you subconsciously drank more.

༄ don’t ask where the beers are coming from.

༄ when you started to huff and get irritated at riddle did he notice your sudden mood change. 

༄ his eyes grew wide when he saw four bottles of beer beside you. poor boy doesn’t know what to do. should he bring you to bed? feed you something? wait, are you even drunk?

༄ you were getting all cranky, you were ‘tsk’ing and growling at certain things. you would rant and pull on your hair when you would get a mistake. it was so unlike you that riddle doesn’t know if he’s getting mad himself or concerned.

༄ he eventually needed to call trey for help. when the vice dorm leader arrived, trey quickly calmed you down and sent you to bed where you quickly passed out. 

༄ poor riddle received a thorough explanation from trey about what happened and that, as your boyfriend, he should be more aware.

༄ riddle just removed all alcohols of any kind from your existence the end.

[crowtoed]

Sybil’s 1740s Stays Build: Part 1, Drafting/Fitting

Tumblr is a WAAAAAY better format costuming posterity tbh, so here’s a bit of a slapshod build... log? (They’re like 2/3 done, whoops) for these stays. While I based my Molly Grue cosplay on an 18th c. silhouette, I’ve wanted to give a proper, historical set of stays a try for a while, doing as much by hand as possible to prove that I’m capable of making something even the reenactor crowd could respect. (INVITE ME TO JOIN YOUR WEIRD WOOL-CLAD CLUB) But I also wanted PRETTY UNDERPINNINGS, the kind of thing silkbaron features or something. Kind of thing that gets an ‘ooh’ represented by high def pics in a costuming portfolio. Ah, projects equally rooted in petty ambition and artistic curiosity... anyway... Since I’m working on a cosplay for ‘dragonkeeper’ Lady Sybil and drawing on a lot of 18th c. influence (and my Molly set are SUPER comfy) I looked for a historical pattern that I liked. Being a Ramkin, surely Sybil could afford a set of elegant, albeit indestructible stays?

Hot shit, my dudes. (From Norah Waugh’s ‘Corsets and Crinolines’, which I’ll actually buy when I can afford a copy. THANKS PINTEREST)

I’m in a weird place between straight and plus size. Honestly I could get away with a half-boned set of stays like what Redthreaded sells, but MAN I love the sturdy, exoskeleton-like, all over compression of fully-boned ones. As we’ll see later, the downside of this is that you need a metric crapton of boning channels and a similar amount of stiffening. This is also when I’d heard about that newfangled ‘artificial whalebone’ stuff the skinny costumers on the youtubes were aflutter about (I’m not just being salty, this will come into play later as mistakes are made). So step one: Drafting

Norah Waugh uses a perplexing non-gridded scale in C&C Underpinnings Factory (something that will make you want to kiss the feet of Ninya Mikhaila and the Tudor Tailor team). I could have had my photoshop wizard of a spouse blow up the pattern and through a little trial, error, and sharpie-ing fitted the pattern accordingly- but I’m a goddamned spite gremlin who needed a self-esteem boost in he middle of a pandemic. So I used math.  First I figured out the measurements of the original garment by cutting out the thumbnail pieces and using the scale legend as a ruler. I took my own waist and bust measurements to figure out the ratio of the original wearer to me and used that as the general equation to plot my pattern points. Fudging to fit my own numbers (slightly different waist-hip proportions) or to make the pattern ‘make sense’ happened, but I got over it. Humans struggling to clothe their meat suits and doing a little handwavey geometry in the process is historically authentic. I wish I could turn this in as very overdue schoolwork for math credit.

Another adaptation I made were areas that weren’t as boning dense to cut costs. In hindsight this didn’t help the bottom line much, but it was going to happen anyway since I changed up the angles of the original pattern (and therefore the channel layout). To make my life easier mocking up, I wanted to try the cardboard and duct tape stays method that made its way around the internet a few years’ back. I used 2mm chip board, a roll of the silver stuff, and some cord and.. it was an utter goddamned disaster. You know when there’s a hole in the bottom of a rowboat and you’re just bailing and bailing, but more water just keeps seeping through. Then eventually the whole thing floods and sinks, forcing you to abandon ship? That was my experiment with cardboard stays. (Note: Cardboard as an analogue for the stomacher panels, however, worked great.)

Then I switched to a sparsely-boned mockup cut out of bits of cotton duck/canvas I had lying around and cable ties. As you can see, there are Problems. The back’s too long, the tabs don’t spread out from my natural waist, there was a massive sideboob spillout, and the waist was too tight- creating that bowed gap in the lacing. Not great, not terrible. Fixed it in the next draft. Since I was feeling a bit confident and o-so zesty, I did v2 out of two layers of (again) sparsely stiffened canvas. If this version fit with minimal tweaks, I’d use it as the boned ‘core’ of my stays. I cannibalized the columns of grommets from v1 and basted them to the mockup to save time (and potentially my interlining, since I’d be doing hand-bound eyelets on the real thing). 

(Caption: I am absolute shit with a tracing wheel- nobody one ever taught me. Above is some semi-successful grinding.)

No pics because I was by myself, but it fit pretty well! In fact I only ended up replacing one of the panels since that side-boob issue hadn’t completely resolved. 

With the mockup canvases good to go, I went ahead and machined all of the boning channels. Then I steeled myself for the next stage: handsewing ALL of those channels through the nice outer fabric I’d chosen. Of course more mistakes were made, but we’ll get into that in part 2...

[mittensmorgul]

Since the finale aired, I’ve been yammering on about how it would’ve only worked as a finale to s2, and now that I’m actually rewatching s2, I stand by that even more staunchly. The finale doesn’t work in a post-s2 supernatural universe.

This is the version of Dean we saw in the finale-- the one whose only mission in life was to Save Sammy, to help him get his revenge and allow him to go out and live a Normal Safe Life pretending that hunting and monsters don’t exist. The one who just wanted some pie, to drive his car, and had no real connections beyond Sam in the world outside of Bobby. Even Dean’s characterization in the finale is this far younger Dean who’d never allowed himself to crack open and truly understand love. It would take me years to plow through everything I’ve ever written about him as a character and his long struggle to emotional maturity we saw evolve over the next 13 years beyond this episode, but the tl;dr will always be “this s2 Dean is the same as the Dean in the finale.”

The goal of s2 was saving SAM from his “destiny,” too. In this era of the show, Dean didn’t have a “destiny” the same way Sam did. The ONLY thing that mattered was freeing Sam from “becoming evil,” and being manipulated into terrible things. What Dean wanted, what he was “destined” for by the narrative was irrelevant, because all of his choices and emotional burdens were tied only to saving Sam. To freeing Sam so he could safely return to his “normal life.” Go back to college, have a family and the white picket fence life.

This was before Dean truly began fighting for HIMSELF. Which only really and truly began after he sells his soul to resurrect Sam. That’s when Dean truly begins fighting for himself. Sure, he’s angry with John during s2 for trading his own life for Dean’s, for putting the burden of “if you can’t save Sam, you’ll have to kill him” on his shoulders with his dying breath, but Dean is still fighting against John’s authority and the complicated tangle of feelings of his own childhood and not actually coming to terms with his own wants and needs and wishes out beyond that yet. He’s still unwittingly confronting the “destiny” John had set up for him, and hasn’t moved beyond that yet. It’s only trading his soul for Sam’s that finally brings Dean into the cosmic narrative that will fuel his introspection and personal growth for the rest of the series.

And out beyond that point, his entire character arc explodes into orbit.

Dean’s entire character arc in s3 is confronting this very basic fact: he doesn’t deserve to have been sacrificed just to save Sam. He doesn’t deserve that burden, and he does deserve to live. This is the realization he comes to before eventually being dragged to Hell and then rescued by an angel, who literally tells him, “you don’t think you deserve to be saved” in the aftermath of that. From that point on, we have TWELVE SEASONS of Dean struggling with what he “deserves” versus what is “fate” and “destiny” and eventually confronting what he WANTS if he truly could choose his own destiny.

Plus, out beyond that point, he has Cas. And nothing changes Dean, pushes him to grow and understand himself, and accept himself-- all of himself, from the good to the horrific-- than the pure and unflinching acceptance of Castiel. Cas never looked at him and said “you are evil,” or “you are worthless.” (well, they’ve both said some pretty awful stuff to each other over the years, but there was either brainwashing or other deeper issues pushing those things on them, and they have ALWAYS eventually come back to one another, and the awful stuff was dealt with). Point is, Dean and Cas both began running these parallel arcs of duty versus desire, and for Dean, the duty was always framed around “taking care of Sam” versus pursuing any sort of ambition or goals for himself. They would fight for this for most of the rest of the series, until eventually the goal for ALL of them would be about discovering what they would want for themselves.

The show explicitly dealt with this, repeatedly, over later seasons, asking all of the characters the big questions: is this what you would choose for yourself? What WOULD you choose for yourself if you could?

And then they made the narrative of the final season, of the final Big Bad, the fact that they had NEVER had real freedom, and that their entire lives (and the entire history of not only this universe but every parallel universe) had been Chuck’s Puppet Theater, and true free will had been a lie all this time. Pushing all of the characters to confront their own choices and understand what about who they were as people was separate from what Chuck pushed them into choosing and doing all these years. The main thing that Dean (and also Cas, and to the extent she was included in the narrative this was Eileen’s issue as well) were being pushed to come to terms with what really was real, and were their feelings and choices their own or imposed on them for the furtherance of Chuck’s story.

At the end of the road, finally free and out from under Chuck’s control, they knew what was real. For Sam and Eileen, they had chosen each other. Cas had chosen Dean, but Dean hadn’t yet had a chance to reply, but anyone with two eyes and a brain knows what he would’ve said in return. It’s what Cas stopped him from saying even back in Purgatory in 15.09. And yet, for some reason Sam and Dean forgot all of that, as if none of it had ever even really happened at all, and we went right back to who they were right after they finally defeated the YED, before we even knew Azazel had a name, let alone the fact that the ultimate boogeyman of their entire lives to that point had been nothing more than a fanatic pawn in a much larger destiny for both of them.

The end of s2 was the last time Dean sacrificing himself so Sam could have a normal life, where Dean really felt there was nothing more for himself than fulfilling his father’s orders to save Sammy, even feels remotely plausible. It’s the last time we can feel like Dean might find peace and contentment in a Heaven where John is nearby to be proud of him, and where Dean would actually feel like that validation was even relevant to his own life.

And that finally brings me back to s2, where that was actually addressed through John’s self-sacrifice to save Dean, to serve Dean up to the narrative and provide a stage for this self-transformative journey INTO being a version of John himself. Only... Dean DOESN’T choose that. He fights to save Sam at all costs, even when it seems clear that the right answer would probably be to KILL Sam instead. When not only the ghost of John Winchester plaguing Dean’s mind would make him doubt his own drive to save his brother, but the John Winchester Insert Character of s2-- Gordon Walker-- basically put Dean’s own doubts out there in plain words in 2.10:

GORDON: I'm surprised at you, Dean. Getting all emotional. I'd heard you were more of a professional than this. Look, let's say you were cruising around in that car of yours and, uh, you had little Hitler riding shotgun, right? Back when he was just some goofy, crappy artist. But you knew what he was going to turn into someday. You'd take him out, no questions, am I right?

DEAN: That's not Sam.

GORDON: Yes it is. You just can't see it yet. Dean, it's his destiny. Look, I'm sympathetic. He's your brother, you love the guy. This has got to hurt like hell for you. But here's the thing. It would wreck him. But your dad? If it really came right down to it, he would have had the stones to do the right thing here. But you're telling me you're not the man he is?

This, the episode where Dean finally confesses John’s final orders to Sam, where Dean has decided that saving Sam is all that matters, even when circumstance and everyone else is practically screaming at him that this could all be over if only he gave in-- be it his own self-sacrifice OR killing Sam. Six of one, half a dozen of the other, the universe doesn’t care (and neither does Chuck... especially at this point... and the proof of that is Sam’s s15 nightmares where one of Chuck’s alternate universe endings for Sam and Dean was Sam actually going Darkside on demon blood and killing Dean... any iteration of the old drama, Chuck has explored all potential endings-- oh, except the ending where TFW gets to just be happy and live... that’s the one ending they never get and the only one they deserved in the end).

also from 2.10... loads of chat about “destiny” and one of Dean’s first “we should just lay all this shit down and take a vacation” moments when he suggests they go to Amsterdam and enjoy some of the not-coffee-coffee-shops, which Sam counters by doubling down on the fact that Dean has a destiny in all this as much as Sam does:

SAM: Well, come on, dude, you're a hunter. I mean, it's what you were meant to do.

DEAN: Ah, I wasn't meant to do anything, I don't believe in that destiny crap.

SAM: You mean you don't believe in my destiny.

DEAN: Yeah, whatever.

SAM: Look, Dean, I've tried running before. I mean, I ran all the way to California and look what happened. You can't run from this. And you can't protect me.

DEAN: I can try.

And that’s it, right there. This is the “neither of you can try for a normal life outside of the other while the other is still alive.” This is Sam pinning a destiny to Dean that’s just as inescapable within Chuck’s narrative as Sam’s demon blood and psychic powers. 

This is the core essence of Chuck’s story about them. The sibling dynamic that Chuck failed to free himself from, and that Sam and Dean failed to free themselves from after Chuck’s demise in 15.19.

Destiny. One must die so the other can live.

And considering the next 13 seasons of the show and the long and emotionally grueling character arcs Sam and Dean proceed through where they truly confront the core of who they are as people-- as individuals outside of their duty and destiny-- the finale ceases to make any sense outside of Chuck’s narrative for them. If 15.20 really happened exactly as we saw it on screen, then Chuck still won.

And they had to loop Sam and Dean all the way back to where they were emotionally at the end of s2 in order to make it seem plausible. Which, for those of us who actually care about what they endured after s2, makes the finale entirely implausible as a whole.

[ravenquingvax]

I'm never gonna properly write for it, but I keep imagining this AU where Percy is an ex-gang member of Vecna's gang.

Maybe Percy killed someone important to Vecna or he stole money, idk, but he's on the run and shit comes back to bite him in the ass.

(This has been inspired by the song "You Can Run" by Adam Jones, btw, as I've had it on repeat for 2 days now)

So uh, here, I guess. Feel free to take this and make into something more solid -

Percy comes from a wealthy family that went into debt. To try and help his parents, Percy looks for work and finds himself being recruited into a gang ran by an intimidating man known only as Vecna.

Vecna's right hand woman, Delilah Briarwood, and her husband, Sylas Briarwood, take a quick likening to Percy and introduce him to their adoptive daughter, Anna.

Anna and Percy make fast friends, until one day Percy catches Anna betraying the gang's plans to another gang.

Percy confronts her alone, thinking he can handle it, but a fight breaks out and Anna gets shot in the abdomen.

Percy panics, trying to stop the bleeding, but Delilah walks in and all hell breaks out.

Percy has to run and he does, running faster than he ever has before in all his life.

He moves to a different city, laying low and doing odd jobs to keep himself afloat.

One day he runs into Keyleth, a young florist struggling to make ends meet, being harassed by some idiot. He defends her, quite publicly too, and is spotted by one of Vecna's many members.

And thus, Percy accidentally gets Keyleth targeted by Vecna's gang.

Cue Vax'ildan, Keyleth's boyfriend and also a former gang member (who also left on bad terms with his old boss) turned tattoo artist, chasing Percy down thinking he's put a hit out on Keyleth.

When he realises Percy's situation, tho, he feels like helping the poor bastard out. He knows what this is like.

Through this, Percy meets Vax's sister and an esteemed defence attorney, Vex'ahlia.

Soon, the men after Keyleth disappear mysteriously and things calm down for Percy.

Percy falls hard for Vex, fast, while she and Vax help him change his identity and disappear from Vecna's gaze.

Percy becomes a mechanic, becomes friends with the twins and Keyleth as well as his fellow mechanics, Grog, Tary and Pike, even with Pike's husband Scanlan.

Life gets really good;

Percy & Vex start dating, Vax & Keyleth get engaged and Taryon gets a boyfriend.

But then Percy slips up somehow, takes the wrong driver's license while out one day running errands and one of Vecna's spies see it, call it in.

Percy is followed home.

Then, during the night, Percy and Vex wake up to several armed intruders who don't seem to like Percy very much.

"Percy... Friends of yours?"

"Friends isn't the word I'd use."

Then Vecna swaggers in, grinning, baseball bat in hand.

Percy feels his world crashing down around him as he and Vex are manhandled out of bed to be tied up by Vecna's men.

"Percival, long time no see, it's been a while."

"I was hoping it'd stay that way, personally."

"Ahah, oh, dear Percival, quite the funnyman as always."

Then the baseball bat just narrowly misses Percy's face, crashing into the bed behind him instead, Vex screams.

"Don't mistake this as a social call, my friend, this is but business. No, you know exactly what I'm here for."

Vecna steps near Vex.

"Leave Vex out of this! It's me you want, not her!"

"Ah, but such a pretty thing, just like her brother... Would be a shame if anything happened to either of them, no? The boy just got engaged, didn't he?"

"Leave my brother out of this, you bastard!"

Vex's demand met only by laughter, her anger outweighing her fear.

Percy, shaking, terrified for his girlfriend and her twin, for all of their friends-

"What do you want?! I'll do whatever it is, just leave my family out of it!"

"Ah, ever the smart man, Perce! You took something of mine, however, so I must take something of yours... Insurance, to make sure you cooperate, you could say..."

"We don't have much in the way of money or valuables-"

"Ah, but I'm not after things of material value, Percy. No. I want you to have some... Motivation! You know... To do as I say, when I say?"

"Please, leave Vex out of this, I'm begging you!"

Percy, scared for his love, scared of what Vax would do if she got hurt because of him-

"Ah, but she's not it either, as I already have my insurance, Percival - Though, a matching set would fetch a far prettier price should you fail to live up to expectations, my boy."

"No! Leave Vax alone!"

"He killed my men, it's only fair I take him as punishment."

Percy hadn't know what Vax had done back then to save his sorry ass, but he feels sick knowing Vax did what he did because of him.

And hearing the devastation in Vex's voice is the final nail in Percy's coffin here, knowing Vax's life is in danger now.

"Alright! Alright! Whatever it is, I'll do it! Just please, don't hurt Vax! Or anyone else!"

Vecna laughs.

"A little late for that, your good friend put up quite the fight and my men may of had a little fun beating him down."

"You bastard! I'll kill you!"

"Oh, Vex'ahlia darling, I'd like to see you try, my girl."

"You fucking asshole!"

Percy, staring in horror at Vex as she hollers and shouts at Vecna, threatening the man.

Vex, furious and shaking, thrashing around to escape.

Vecna just keeps laughing.

"Maybe I'll keep the boy as my personal punching bag, or I could sell him to the highest bidder? What do you think?"

"I think you're making the biggest mistake of your life!"

"Or perhaps I can hand him to the Briarwoods, what do you think, Percy? Maybe that would take their minds off of you murdering their sweet Anna. Sylas has been wanting a pet to play with and Delilah could use another lab rat"

And Percy goes pale.

"She didn't make it?"

"What else is it did you think I meant by you taking something from me? The girl was smart and promising, Perce, the loss is felt."

"I didn't want to kill her, I swear! But she was up to something! I needed to know what it was!"

"Are you suggesting that a long standing and much trusted family member was planning on betraying her family and her gang? Oh, Percival..."

And Vecna shakes his head, tutting and sighing.

"I thought you were smarter than that."

"I'm telling the truth!"

Percy can't look at Vex right now, can't think of what she must be feeling right now.

Everything he's worked for, ruined in minutes.

"Well, in any case, you still owe me a favour... Unless you'd rather we just get this over with and I have Sylas execute the brother instead?"

"No!!"

And Percy balks.

"No! No! Leave him alone! I'll do whatever it is you want!"

"Good, because I really do like that boy, he has fire in him."

"Just... What is it? What must I do to make this go away?"

"I have a friend, a fellow by the name of Orthax, and he's been crossed by some folks... He needs them taken care of."

"You want me to become an assassin for you?"

Percy feels sick.

Vex is gaping in horror.

"It's just 8 people, Percy, and then this is all over."

"You can promise that?"

"I can guarantee it, my friend, and I never break promises."

"Who are they?"

"In due time, in due time... Now, we're going to untie you before we go, please don't do anything... Rash. I'd hate to have to kill you or your beloved, or her brother at that."

Percy and Vex tense, but stay quiet and let themselves be untied, staying still.

"Good, excellent. I'll leave the list on your dresser along with your new gun... Orthax made it just for you, be appreciative."

"Do I have a time limit?"

"Let's say... You have two weeks, then I'll give away the brother to either my best people or to the highest bidder - Depends on how I'm feeling on the day, you understand?"

"It'll be done before then, I can assure you that."

"So they all say, Percival."

And with that, Vecna and his men start to leave, but then Vecna pauses at the doorway.

"Oh, and, Percy? Don't trying running away again - I mean, I don't mind it, run all you like... But just remember, you can't hide. I'll always find you."

"Trust me, I'm aware."

"Good... Have a good night."

And with that, the couple are left kneeling on their bedroom floor, crying and shaking.

Percy stands first, heading for the list and weapon.

Vex stands next, sitting on their bed, fuming silently.

Then Percy gags and drops the list before running out.

"Perce?"

She gets up, swallowing.

Who did Percy have to murder just so Vax wouldn't be killed or whatever? How bad was it?

Who was to be killed in change for Vax's very life?

She bends down and picks the sheet of paper up, turning it over and reading the names;

Frederickstein de Rolo

Johanna de Klossowski

Julius de Rolo

Vesper de Rolo

Oliver de Rolo

Whitney de Rolo

Ludwig de Rolo

Cassandra de Rolo

[lee-scribbles-and-doodles]

S3 ep4

LEEEEETS GOOO!

Girl Stinky fighting Grandpa for Sal's honor 😍

So many Sams😲

Can the narrator pls shut up

"After they yanked it away they turned their attention on us." "actually I think they were more interested in me."

"Looks like it's time to boil the haggis" I love u Grandpa Stinky

"Need any help?" "No, I've been dreaming of this for years." *Continues to shoot Sam clones*

Skunkape loosing his mind

Oh geez, the dogglegangers kidnapped him

Girl Stinky still denying her obvious relationship with Sal

Oh hey I can make toast... Never mind then 😕

"Ah, I remember when I was a toaster."

Max and Grandpa are having a little too much fun shooting the clones

Why does Stinky have a picture of the DeSoto???

Well, the plan to turn into the DeSoto failed

I really didn't need to read minds to figure out how to get out, but I guess it was a good way to remind players of the tunnel

"Max is so powerful now... Soon he won't even need a partner."

Ew, Grandpa wants to sell clone meat 🤢

Sam struggling to not eat a fudgcicle is super relatable

Oh the tunnel is blocked. Knowing Girl she probably has a backup

I knew it.

"Happiness is a warm gun." "My gun is always warm... and a little bit moist." WHAT

*Gives clone a peanut butter ball* "Ew. It has peanut butter dog mouth. I hate when I do that."

Haha I made Sam eat a peanut butter ball now he's doing that dog lip smack thing

Oh hey, we can take a fudgcicle now. ...Oh, I know what to do!

Presidential Alert: The Stinky's are fighting!

Why does Girl Stinky's tunnel lead to a cloning facility?

The clone Sam approves of Sam's outfit

He stole Sam's hat!!!

"That's strange." yeah, you think!?

"--unholy army of sexually provocative Sam clones" What you just call them Max 👀

Cthulu tenticles!!!

They have spikes

"I'm thinking of a number between--" "Potato!" "That's uncanny."

Sam

"Momma sure does love a nicely turned Sam gam."

This episode is quickly turning into Max repeatedly saying how hot he thinks Sam is 👀

I guess let's explore the tunnels

Ooh the museum

Doctor Norrington? We get to meet him?

Nope :(

When they jumped back into the tunnels Max raised his hands up and Sam picked him up 😭😭😭🥰🥰🥰

Back through the tunnels

The shadow physics are all messed up

Boscotech!

Harry and Superball are trying to contact Momma. Can she not appear anymore?

Queen? Where are you?

"Keep your eyes peeled, Max." "Ugh, that's disgusting, Sam."

"What do you know about these scary--" "But dashing!" "--toy stealing Sam clones." oh max

"So you don't know where Momma Bosco is?" Sam says with a huge sad face

Superball my love

Max smokes Cuban cigars

"Yes sir, quite the coinkydink."

"I'm going to stand over here and try to shake off the memory of you saying balliwick." *,Literally stands in corner shaking his arms side to side* Max. I love you

*Harry insults Sam* *Max jumps to his defence*

"I'm afraid the contents on my mind is classified, sirs."

I'm going to find Sal

The hat thief stole the car!!!

Buster Blaster!!!

"Max." "that's what they call me at the manipedi." The boys get manicurs

I can't get to Sal or Buster Blaster because of the clones :(

Look a buster blaster's future and he's just floating through space shouting "This is totally awesome!"

Back to Stinky's

Flint Paper!!!

Flint's mind is just noir narrative... As it should be

Girl Stinky realized Max has been reading her mind

Sam and Max role-playing as Flint and Girl has me laughing

Girl tied Sam up into her lies

The fact that the boys don't realize who Mr. S is is astonishing

Great I have to find a cake. Back to Sal?

The clone Sam hugging the stuffed Bunny 🥰

Sam was doing the same to Max 😍

Love for legomorphs is stored in the dna

Oh hey I missed Charlie the first time

Max shares the creeped out feelings Charlie gives me. Good

Sal knows how to cook 💖

Sal is an artist 🥰

I love Sal

OMG is there actual blood on the cake

No! Don't eat Max!

Sam got a kiss from Stinky, lucky dog. I can't tell if he's surprised or grossed out 😂

Flint and Max are disgusted by the kiss

Oh to be kissed by Girl Stinky... or Sybil... Or Momma Bosco.

Sal doesn't want to kill. Good man

Girl and Sal are my new otp

Oh no, power het couple are possessed

Ok, I'm going back to boscotech for now to mess with Harry now that I have Charlie

Max really hamming it up

Oh hey, Max actually summoned Momma

Agent Superball just teleported?!

What is going on with him?

Also he has OTHER superiors

Momma are you hiding something?

"mmm-mm-mm, those shorts sure don't leave anything to the imagination, do they?"

Was Max right, does Momma have a thing for Sam?

Lol she was lying.

She seems to feel guilty about selling her cloning machines.

Max don't you dare mention the poppers in front of me!!!

It's pretty obvious it's Papierwaite

I like it when she spins

Oh, are we going to track down Bosco to get more DNA for her new body?

I'm going to take to Buster Blaster

"Hey, you wouldn't happen to know anything about those Sam clones running around?" "THOSE ARE REAL?" "Yeah." "HOLY MOTHER OF GOD!!!"

He gave us a letter to give to Momma from Bosco.

"See ya Buster." "I AM BECOME DEATH!"

Sam called Bosco "baby Bosco"

Oh hey, I probably should have tried reading Papierwaiite's mind already

Sam picked Max up so he could type in the code

Ew, Norrinton is a chest burster cthulu

Everyone keeps making fun of Sam's weight :(

Max's reaction to Norringron's grandson being named Junior is great

I used the destabilizer to look for the weapon and now Sam is crying profusely

That Romeo and Juliet reference tho

He's fine now

Well that was a lot of trial and error

Got the new toy and killed the tentacles

Time to get Momma a new body

Momma is bald. That's fine

Love that she's fully clothed even though that doesn't make any sense

Yay shooting things!

Oh no we made Sal fall

Momma is so excited to telport

Aw, she held Max's hand while Sam patted his head ❤️

She punched out Girl! Go Momma!

Ha, we made the clones dance.

Yay, we figured out where the toybox is.

AAAAH

I knew Charlie was going to be evil!

I hate evil dolls

The clones knocked the boys out

We're at the statue of liberty now???

Ew, she's got tenticles

Charlie wants to be reunited with Junior. Can't let that happen since it'll cause the apocalypse

Max is more concerned for Sam than the world

Charlie kidnapped Norrinton

Sam is still struggling against the thrall

Oh hey, got Charlie to let Sam talk

Let's mess with the sheet music

The liberty puzzel was fun

Oh shit, did Charlie just kill Norrington and Papierwaite

Ooooh, Max is all glowly

Ok, that last puzzel was kinda easy

Sam got his hat back!

Max, oh no he fell

Sam looked so scared

Oh Max, scared us for no reason

Oh God, he's scaring us for real now

OMG is this because he swallowed some demon yolk?

He's so big and Cthulu-y now!!!

Shut up narrator!

"Well, this is new." oh Sam

Wait the episode just ends there!?

Gaaahd now I have to stay up and play the next one or die from suspense.

After credits scene... Did we kill Sal!? Nooo!!!!

[elentiyawhitethorn]

The Bet | Chapter Two

Day 1

Everything hurts. That was the first thought in Feyre’s head as she awoke the next morning. What the hell had happened?

Feyre sat up and blinked. Ah, yes. Tequila.

She climbed out of her bed, shuffling to the bathroom to try and locate some aspirin. Being new, she could only hope she got lucky in her search. She did indeed find a bottle.

Once she used the bathroom and brushed the smell of alcohol off her teeth, Feyre trudged out to the living room. Mor was still sound asleep on the couch. There was a McDonald’s napkin lying on the floor next to the couch, which Feyre picked up.

Reading the napkin, Feyre was reminded of last night’s events. Oh, gods, had she seriously bet $100? Making a living as a struggling artist wasn’t helped along by betting away money. Feyre refused to feel nervous, however. If she won, the money would help, even just a little. And she was going to win.

Seeing how legal and proper the contract sounded made Feyre giggle.

“So that wasn’t a dream, then.” Feyre turned to see Amren in the doorway, eyeing the napkin with a smirk on her face.

“I’m afraid not,” Feyre answered, grinning. “Perhaps as witness, you want to hold on to this?”

Amren snorted. “I haven’t known you long enough to tell for certain, but Morrigan would definitely lose that thing within minutes. I’ll keep it in my purse.”

Feyre handed over the “contract.”

“Whatshadoin?” murmured Mor, squinting up at them.

Amren said, “It’s Thursday. Don’t you have work?”

Mor winced. “I prepared for this. Took a late shift. As long as it’s before 3:30 I’m good. Um, it is, right?”

Feyre walked toward the kitchen and glanced over at the microwave clock. “It’s noon.”

Mor groaned. “Thank the gods. Goodnight y’all.” She closed her eyes again.

“I need to be at the jeweler’s soon. Goodbye, Feyre,” Amren said.

“You’re a jeweler?” Feyre asked. She didn’t know why she was surprised. The woman was covered in jewelry, even now. Had she taken it all off to sleep? Probably not.

Amren gave a smirk. “Couldn’t you tell?” With that, she strutted over to the door and left. Okay, so Amren was definitely an oddball.

Feyre entered the kitchen and looked through the cabinets to get used to the layout. Satisfied she knew where the basics were, she started making coffee.

Half an hour later, Mor plodded over to the dining room table where Feyre was sitting, reading a book. “Good gods, my head is pounding.”

Feyre smiled. “Yeah, I would be surprised if it wasn’t. I got you an aspirin.” She gestured next to her, where there was also a glass of water.

“You’re an angel, Fey. I don’t think I could survive without you.” Mor swallowed it and sat down. “So what’s the plan? I know you want to be an artist. How does one get about doing that?”

Feyre set down her book. “Well, I have enough savings to last me for a while as I get started. I checked and there’s a small space a few blocks down, good for an art studio. I’ve placed an offer and today I am going to paint. I’ll see how well the paintings sell.”

Mor grinned. “This is so exciting. I’ve seen what your stuff looked like before you majored in art; there’s no way anyone will be able to resist now. You have a real talent.”

Feyre was touched. “Thank you, Mor. That means a lot to me.”

“Oh gods, I’ve just remembered.” Mor burst into laughter. “Good lord, did we really bet you to keep away from my smooth-tongued cousin?”

Feyre snorted. “Call him what you will, yes we did. And I am going to kick your ass. Easily.”

“You say that now. We’ll see, dear, we’ll see...”

-

A knock sounded on the door. Mor had left an hour earlier for work and Feyre was setting up her art supplies in her bedroom, planning on starting a new painting.

Feyre walked down the hall and to the door. Opening it revealed... gods no. But alas, it was indeed Rhysand, in all his smirky glory.

“Mor’s at her cafe.”

Rhys’ smile widened. “I know, darling. I came to see you.”

Feyre rolled her eyes. “May I ask why?”

“You’re new. I thought you might need help settling in. Or just some company.”

She frowned. Feyre was still in the doorway, Rhys unable to enter. “I have no need of either of those things.”

“If you say so, darling.” Feyre’s mouth twisted into a scowl. “But now that I’m here, I’ve just remembered I let Mor borrow my earbuds the other day. I should probably get them back.” The damn bastard. What was Feyre supposed to do, tell him he couldn’t come get something from his own cousin’s apartment?

“Okay,” was all Feyre could manage without smacking him. She turned and walked away down into her room, certain Rhys wouldn’t follow her into her own bedroom.

There was music playing softly from Feyre’s phone, and looking at the paints and canvas, she forgot all about Rhys’ presence somewhere in apartment.

Feyre got lost in the melody of painting, the stroke of the brush, the twining of colors. She soon had a lake surrounded by a copse of trees. Nothing special, and everything was just outlines. Still, though, even after just a few minutes the setting was starting to take place.

“It’s beautiful,” a voice commented near Feyre’s ear.

She spun around to find Rhys hovering behind her. “Fucking hell! Don’t scare people like that. And it’s not beautiful; it’s barely started. And also, creeping about my bedroom? How long have you been watching me? Fucking stalker!”

Rhysand chuckled. “Sorry to frighten you.” He sounded anything but. “It took me a while to find these,” he said, dangling a pair of earbuds. Jerk had probably planned that. “I came to check on you before I left. And it is beautiful; it may not be finished, but you have some serious talent.”

Mor had said something very similar not too long ago, and it warmed Feyre’s heart. She did not want to hear compliments from him, however. Feyre gave a menacing scowl and elbowed Rhys, hard. That definitely didn’t count as a romantic or sexual manner, to quote the contract. “Still creepy. Haven’t you been taught basic manners?”

Rhys fake-pouted. “I’d ask the same of you. You haven’t exactly been civil to me. Why is that, darling?”

Feyre frowned. “You call me darling. You smirk too much. You... you just irk me.”

A startled laugh left Rhys’ mouth. For the life of her, Feyre couldn’t understand why he looked pleased by that. “I’ll see you around, darling.” He winked and walked - no, strutted - through the doorway.

Feyre stood there for a while, replaying the conversation. What an ass! Who did he think he was? This bet was ridiculous; it would have been much more challenging to not be allowed to punch Rhys. Feyre was starting to think this was a possibility. If he called her darling one more time...

Feyre needed to relax. She dipped the paintbrush she hadn’t set down into the cobalt blue and set to work once more, but no matter how hard she tried, Feyre couldn’t get Rhysand out of her head.

-

Mor got home late in the evening. She heard music playing from Feyre’s room and went in to check on her.

Feyre turned and smiled when Mor gasped behind her. “Do you like them?” She had finished the lake painting and was about halfway through a starry sky on a new canvas, similar to the one on her wall. Feyre had only paused once to get a sandwich, otherwise occupied with the freedom painting gave her.

“Feyre, I love them! They’re beautiful!”

Feyre scowled.

“Honey, that was a compliment. Why the long face?”

She sighed. “That’s the same thing your bastard of a cousin said when he stopped by. I can’t help but frown at the thought of him.”

Mor laughed. “He came over?”

“Yes, come to harass me. And don’t worry, the only touching that happened was when I elbowed him.”

Mor burst into a fit of giggles. “Why don’t you like him?”

“I don’t know, Mor. I should be making more of an effort since he’s your cousin, but there’s just something about him that gets on my last nerve.” Feyre sighed.

“He can be very... difficult.” Mor grinned. “Perhaps, though, that something is just sexual tension.”

Feyre rolled her eyes. “Trying to hypnotize me into making a move? That’s a low blow, Mor. And sure as hell never happening.”

“What did the napkin say, they may meddle as they please? Anyway, I need to make money somehow, darling,” Mor mocked.

Feyre frowned. “Call me darling again and I’m moving out.”

Mor just let out a tinkling laugh. “You’ll fall in love eventually. Don’t doubt that. All I have to do is watch and wait.”

“We’ll see about that.” Feyre turned, trying to hide the smile that appeared at her friend’s nonsensical antics.

“Yes, we most certainly will.” Mor left the room, leaving Feyre to her thoughts. Once again they were drawn back to Rhys.

He was arrogant, condescending, and just plain annoying. So why couldn’t Feyre stop thinking about him? Probably just the bet - now that money was at stake, Feyre couldn’t help but think of it. Yes, that was all.

She turned back to her painting, intent on finishing it so the two could dry overnight.

-

Feyre emerged from her room at ten, finally done with her work. She brought several paintbrushes out to the kitchen sink, needing to wash them. When she finished and walked into the living room, Mor was sitting on the couch, flipping through a magazine.

“Hon, have you had dinner?”

Feyre blinked. “Well... I suppose not. I get caught up in my painting easily.”

“Oh, trust me, I know,” Mor replied. “All of college I had to remind you to eat. There’s some soup on the counter I brought home from the cafe if you want it.”

Feyre thanked her, heated up the soup, and came to join Mor at the couch with the bowl on her lap.

“So, Feyre. About Rhys-”

Feyre interrupted, “Why are we discussing your cousin again?”

Mor grinned. “Don’t worry, I’m not trying to set you up again. I’m only warning you.”

“Warning me about what?”

“Rhys asked me for your number.” Mor was smirking.

Feyre scowled. “If you actually gave it to him... Oh gods, you did! Traitor! I don’t want him texting me.”

Mor replied, “I couldn’t say no to his puppy-dog eyes.” Feyre frowned, trying to imagine Rhys’ smirk transformed into puppy-dog eyes. She couldn’t. “And anyway, this will help along the process.”

“One more word about how I’m going to end up falling in love with his sorry ass and I’ll punch you, Mor. Can we please discuss something else now?”

Mor sighed. “Fine. What do you think of New York?”

“Well,” said Feyre, glad that Mor had relented, “I haven’t seen much, but everything seems great so far. The buildings are impressive, your cafe is lovely, and your friends are pretty nice. Most of them, anyway.” And just like that, despite his name not being mentioned, Rhys was back in the damned conversation. Feyre could only hope Mor didn’t choose to comment on this.

“Thank you, I’m glad you like my cafe. Also, let’s be honest, I know you were referring to my dear cousin, but the only nice person in our whole friend group is Azriel.” Mor smiled.

Feyre let out a snort. “Cassian seemed nice enough.”

“Cassian is many things. Nice is not one of them,” Mor answered.

“Well, I like him. Is he single?” Feyre asked, for the sole reason of aggravating Mor.

She scowled. “No, but... you can’t date him.”

“Are you going to provide me with a reason?” Feyre asked innocently.

“Fuck you!” Mor yelled.

Feyre just giggled. She wasn’t really interested in Cassian like that. He seemed like he could be a good friend to her, though. Feyre kept teasing Mor, even asking about Aziel’s relationship status at one point. Despite her best efforts, however, she couldn’t bring herself to want to flirt with anyone. Instead, Feyre’s thoughts drifted back to the violet-eyed man whom she hated so much.

Damn him. Damn his smirk and his irritating demeanor. Damn his mirthful eyes and... lucious lips. Fucking hell! Why did I just think that?

Damn it all.

[duskowithapen]

Day One: Tattoo Artist/Flower Shop AU

Writers Month 2020: Day One

Fandom: Miraculous Ladybug

Pairing: Luka x Marinette

Of Flowers and Tattoo Needles

Miraculous AU where Marinette is the tattoo artist with some very impressive ink and Luka is pining from across the way where he works at his sister’s flower shop. Day One of Writer’s Month 2020 – Tattoo Artist/Flower Shop AU

Read on AO3

Read on Fanfiction

“You’re drooling.”

Luka straightened quickly, wiping a hand over his chin. “No I’m not.” He turned around to see his sister walking in from the back room, a sprig of lavender tucked behind her ear.

“You might as well have been,” she says, walking closer to lean beside him at the counter. “Not that I’d blame you – Marinette’s cute.”

The Marinette in question was the owner of the tattoo parlour across the way. On quiet days like today, she could be seen sitting outside her shop with a sketchbook. Luka swallowed dryly. The sun was shining off her impressive tattoo – a full sleeve that wound around her wrist and up over her shoulder in a tangle of flowers and vines that he couldn’t see clearly.

“Well?” Juleka’s dry voice snaps his attention back.

“Well what?”

She waved a hand towards the door. “Are you going to get a tattoo?”

Luka splutters. “W-What? Why would I – what makes you think –” How’d she known I’d considered it?!

He’s saved by the bell – literally – as Rose walks in. “Jule’s, what are you doing to your poor brother this time?” She asks, joining them at the counter which was suddenly feeling a little cramped.

Pecking her partner on the cheek, Juleka smiles innocently. “Trying to convince him to get a tattoo.”

“Oh, you totally should!” Rose claps her hands. “You have to go to Marinette – between her and Nathaniel, you’ll get the coolest tattoo! Marinette was the one who designed ours!”

“Really?” Luka glance at Juleka’s uncovered wrist. It was ringed by a flower wreath – red and purple roses (passionate love and love at first site), hot pink dahlias (commitment) and bright red gladiolus’ (strength and integrity). Rose had one exactly the same. It was a beautiful representation of their relationship – one Luka was waiting for them to consummate with a marrige. It was also a nod to their shared brainchild.

The Secret Garden might have only been a few years old, but it had blossomed into one of the most successful flower shops in Paris, often completely selling out around any holiday, and with a reputation for incredible flower arrangements, which Luka was proud to say he had a hand in.

Luka smiled. “I wouldn’t mind a tattoo,” he said after a moment, “Maybe something for you and mum – like her raven tattoos.”

Juleka’s smile was small, but no less terrifying for it. “Then go talk to Marinette now. Doesn’t look like she has any clients.” She was still sitting outside her shop.

As Luka was pushed out the door, Rose shoved a small posy of cherry blossoms into his hand. “Give Marinette these – they’re her favourite!”

How does she know her favourite flowers? Luka thought wildly as the door locked behind him. Slowly crossing the narrow avenue, he could feel their gaze burning into the back of his neck, and his hands became sweaty. They were making him nervous. He didn’t normally get nervous. He normally wasn’t going to ask a very cute girl to give him a tattoo.

Marinette looked up as he approached, and he couldn’t help but notice how adorable the freckles dotting her nose and cheeks were. Luka dug his fingers into his leg. You’re here for a tattoo, he reminded himself, not to check out the artist! But he couldn’t stop himself from taking in the blue sheen to her pigtailed hair, the welcoming smile stretched across her face, the impressive artwork which looked even better close up. Spiralling around her arm on pale green stalks and vines were cherry blossoms, pink orchids, blue morning glories, larkspur, hyacinths and bright yellow daffodils. Renewal, fertility and abundance, affection, cheer and goodwill, sincerity, luck and good fortune… he thought absently. After so long working with flowers – and even longer hearing about them from Rose – the symbolism came to mind automatically.

“Uh… hello?”

Luka blinked. Her eyes are really blue. Then he remembered himself and smiled. “Sorry. Are you Marinette?”

Her grin became wider. “Yup! Are you Juleka’s brother?”

“Yeah. She and Rose said that these were your favourite flowers?” He held out the blossoms. “They asked me if I could give them to you.” Well, technically they did. Even if it was meant to be more from me than them.

“Awww, thank you!” Marinette buried her nose in the pale pink petals and breathed deep. “They’re beautiful!”

“You’re welcome,” Luka said numbly. Her smile was almost blinding. “Uh, there was something else.”

Marinette’s head tilt made her pigtails bounce. It should be illegal for someone to look this adorable. “How can I help?”

“I was wondering about getting a tattoo.”

“Oh, of course!” Marinette leapt to her feet. “What else do you come to a tattoo parlour for? I’m so sorry, come in and we can get started right away!” She babbled. “Or should I say, welcome to Charmed Ink! Do you have any ideas for what you want? I’m partial to flowers as you can see, but I’m good at more tribal stuff too, and lettering, but Nathanial’s the best for portraits and a lot of the animal stuff..”

She continued to talk even as Luka took in Charmed Ink. The art on the inside of the tattoo parlour made it look larger than the comparatively small storefront suggested. The back wall was painted with an incredible mural of cherry blossom trees in full bloom, framing a red bridge arching over a river. The side walls were white and in scattered groups were photos of tattoo art – in one clump was a variety of dragon tattoos, in another was various words in all different fonts. The two tattoo stations were set in the back corners, with a small waiting area directly before the entrance. This was where Marinette led him, stopping quickly at a desk partially hidden by a folding screen.

She noticed his awed look at the back mural and smiled, a little calmer now. “That was a collaboration between Alix and Nathanial – he’s my other tattooist. They were all in my class in collége and lycée – same with Juleka and Rose, actually.”

“They did a great job,” Luka murmured. “And I’ve seen your work before – the tattoo you did for my sister was incredible. I was kinda looking for something similar.”

“Were you wanting a tattoo on your wrist too?” Marinette sat on one of the plush couches, and Luka sat across from her.

“No, I was thinking of something on my shoulder – my left shoulder,” He gestured, “Maybe going down my arm a little? I don’t want to go for a full sleeve now, but looking at your tattoo, I’d definitely consider it for the future.”

Marinette’s blush travelled across her cheeks and up her ears. “That – that’s a good plan. I can definitely work with that.” She made a note before looking at him under he lashes. “Were you wanting flowers?”

At Luka’s confused look, she continued, “You said you wanted something similar to your sisters, but you didn’t want it on your wrist…?”

“Ah, that’s right.” Luka tapped at his knee a little, quick staccato beat. “Yeah, I was thinking blue iris, gladilous and maybe daffodils.”

“Is there a meaning behind those flowers, or…?” Marinette made another note.

Luka nodded. “Yeah. Gladiolus’ are mum and Juleka’s birth flowers, not to mention their symbolism – strength and integrity. Blue Iris’ are my birth flower, meaning faith and hope, and daffodils are good luck and good fortune, but I also like the yellow.”

Marinette hummed. “I take it your favourite colour is blue?” She asked, waving her pencil at his blue hoody and matching Jagged Stone t-shirt. With a wince, he realised he was still wearing the Secret Garden apron over his faded jeans. Whoops.

“How did you guess.” Luka deadpanned, and he grinned at Marinette’s chuckle. “But seriously, yeah, I like blue and yellow. And, if we’re going for something like the start of a sleeve… think you could incorporate a snake or something in there?”

“Snakes are transformation and renewal, aren’t they?” Marinette murmured as she wrote. “There was this one symbol I remember, with a snake biting its tail…”

“The ouroboros,” Luka nodded, “It’s an eternity symbol.”

“Hmmmm…” Marinette started sketching in earnest. “So we’re going for something that can be added to later, definitely going for a circling snake – probably around your arm – but should the head be going up or down – put the flowers in colour clusters, or mix them up… maybe have them growing out of the snake? But if the snake is blue… you’ve got the more teal tips to your hair, so I could go for something more on the green side of the spectrum to help tie it in, but the snake should also stand out…”

All Luka could do was watch as Marinette seemed to get lost in a creative haze. Her pencil moved rapidly over the page as she sketched, occasionally going back over a line with her eraser, muttering about her hand not listening to her brain. Once or twice she looked something up on her phone before continuing – at one point, she leapt out of her seat to go and stare at one of the photos on the wall.

This process went on for about twenty minutes, Luka browsing through social media in between watching Marinette with what Juleka would probably class as a ‘disgustingly lovestruck’ look on his face. He couldn’t help it! She was just so vibrant, pouring all this passion into her work. Not to mention the cute little wrinkle between her eyebrows as she seemed to struggle with something at the bottom of the page.

Marinette slammed her sketchbook down with a bang that made him jump. “So! I have a tentative outline – tell me what you like and don’t like, and we can work from there.”

The sketch – and Luka didn’t know how Marinette could class this as an outline given the level of detail – featured all the aspects he wanted. On the front and back sketch of his arm and shoulder was a winding snake, the head sitting just under his collarbone and the rest of its body circling his arm before ending just above his elbow. But it didn’t just circle his arm. It also twisted around the gnarled and knotted stems that supported intricate bursts of flowers. An iris sat directly below the snakes head before more flowers dotted the stem around his shoulder to a larger, more detailed flower on his shoulder blade. Gladiolus’s tangled with the main body of the snake, interspersed with tiny iris’ and leaves, merging with daffodils close to his elbow. Each flower differed in size, though the iris on his back was the largest, probably about the size of his palm if he got the proportions right. Notes on both sides of the sketch were arms with arrows and a frankly scary amount of question marks. Luka looked away when he saw the words ‘dark coffee brown’ and ‘burgundy vs wine’.

“This… this is incredible Marinette.” He looked up at where she was wringing her hands. When she bit her lip, he had to refrain from reaching up and biting it for her. Concentrate Couffaine!

Marinette giggled, the sound high with nerves. “Thanks Luka. It’s a bit rough, and I’d want to go over the colours with you before we start anything, but I’m glad you like it. Anything you’d want to change?”

“Not really,” He hummed. “How would you continue this, if you were going for a full sleeve?”

When Marinette took a seat at his side, leaning into his shoulder a little, Luka stiffened. He hadn’t noticed before, but she’d split the posy of cherry blossom flowers into two and attached them to her pigtails – their scent wafted over him, and he tried not to breathe too deeply. “Well, if I was going to do a full sleeve with the snake, I’d make the snake the body of the tattoo,” she said, pointing at various parts of the sketch, “Probably make the circuits wider and accentuate the gaps a little more with the flowers. The head would have to be a little bigger, to make it proportionate, but otherwise not much would change.”

Luka nodded slowly. “So, say, if you maybe did that – the thing with the head and the – the circuits? And then have the snake ‘end’ in a clump of flowers above my elbow.” It was his turn to point, dragging a finger along the clump of daffodils and trying very hard to ignore the way Marinette pressed just a little closer to see. “Maybe if you added some of the gladiolus and iris here as well, and then if I add more to the tattoo later, you can have the rest of the body kind of emerge from there.”

“That would work really well actually,” Marinette said as she took the sketchbook back. Luka tried not to pout as her warmth moved away. “I can make a wreath just above your elbow – kinda like what I did for Juleka and Rose – and have the snake’s body ‘disappear’ into that. It would be easy work to make it ‘reappear’ beneath it later.”

Marinette scribbled these notes in as she spoke, before turning back to him. “So, about price… for a piece like this – half sleeve, colour and design… you’re looking at about one and a half grand.”

His eyebrows threatened to disappear into his hairline. “That low?” While he hadn’t seriously thought about getting a tattoo before today, he’d spent time with a lot of people who had. A full sleeve tattoo could cost as much as four grand – a half sleeve would be at least two.

“You’re getting the friends and family discount.” Marinette shrugged. “And I’ve been in a bit of a designing rut lately – all people seem to want are dragons or family names. This is a bit of a godsend, actually.”

Luka smirked. “Friends and family discount, huh?”

With her nose in the air, Marinette sassed, “Of course. Juleka’s my friend, and you’re her family.”

Throwing caution to the wind, Luka leaned in a little. “That’s why, huh? I’m hurt Marinette.”

“Hopefully you aren’t so sensitive when it comes time for me to break out the needles, Luka. I don’t want to listen to you crying for the six hours this is going to take.” The smirk she shot him sent a thrill through his chest. She’s got some fire.

“Oh believe me, Marinette.” Luka steadied himself on the couch back behind her shoulders and gave Marinette his best stage-ready, sweet-talking, come-hither bedroom eyes before growling out, “I don’t think six hours with you will be any hardship.”

[mysterycheerio]

Lights Up, on Washington Heights up in the break of day…

Peter closed his door, keys rattling in his hand. Across the street sat his little corner shop - the coffee shop he had worked in since he was small, and in front of it, the gang of graffiti artists painting the roller door in front of it.

The customers were gathered around, watching the artist, mumbling to themselves in disagreement for the pseudo Banksy.

Frustration filled him, and he ran towards them, shouting, "Hey, HEY!"

They ran off.

I wake up and I got this little punk I gotta chase away,

He entered the shop, asking the polite customers to bear with him a moment while he got everything ready, humming to himself as he did his chores.

Pop the grate at the crack of dawn, sing while I wipe down the awning-

He stepped outside, flipping the sign to 'open', and said in a good-natured tone, "Hey, y'all, good morning."

Piragüero, the man selling a sweet, shaved ice type dessert, called a 'piragua', rounded the corner, like he did every day, "Ice cold piragua! Parcha, China, Cherry, Strawberry, and just for today, I got mamey!"

"Yo, Piragüero! ¿Como estas?"

"¡Como siempre, Señor Parker!"

He smiled as the old ladies brought in their grandchildren, pulling them up to the desk. He greeted them the way he knew the ladies wanted.

"They call me Peter, and you prob'ly never heard my name - reports of my fame are greatly exaggerated," he said in a sing-song voice. The guardians began to shop, leaving the children at the front of the store listening to his story - how he's a first generation immigrant, who now sells coffee in his little corner shop.

He went into the back for the second, talking loud enough so that the kids could hear him. He opened the fridge and sniffed the milk, checking to see if it was still fresh, but all that met his nose was the scent of putrid dairy.

The door opened, and in stood Maria Carbonell, known to the community as Abuela Maria.

"Abuela, my fridge broke," he said, voice hinting at desperation as he tried to speak quietly so the kids wouldn't hear him, "I have café but no con leche!"

She smiled, "Try my mothers old recipe: one can of condensed milk."

They walked back out, winking at the kids, "Nice!"

"Ay, Paciencia Y Fe!"

He turned his attention to the kids, "That was Abuela, she's not really my Abuela but she practically raised me, this corner is her esquela," he said, the kids laughing as he turned on the spot.

"Excuse me," a middle aged man said politely, "Can you tell me how to get here?" He pointed at a picture of downtown.

"Ah, you're probably thinking, 'I'm up shits creek'. Have you ever been North of 96th Street?" He shook his head. Peter figured as much, "Well, you must take the A train, go even farther than Harlem, to Northern Manhattan. Get off at 181st and take the escalator. And you're there!" 

"Thank you so much," he said, grateful, before holding his hand out to one of the kids and pulling him out of the shop, "Come on Michael."

"But dad, I want to listen to the man's stories!"

He smiled.

Soon the kids had to depart with their guardians, and he gave a friendly wave at their departure.

I'm getting tested, times are tough on this bodega, two months ago somebody bought Ortega's. Our neighbours started packing up, and picking up, and ever since the rent's went up-

"It's gotten mad expensive," a kid said, making small talk as Peter handed him his coffee.

"But we live with just enough," he said, smiling.

"Amen, brother."

Next up to bat, the Starks! They run the cab company, and struggle in the barrio, see - their son Harley is off at college, tuition is mad steep, so they can't sleep, everything they get is mad cheap.

"Good morning, Kid," Tony said, hand in hand with his wife, Pepper.

"Pan caliente café con leche!" 

Tony nodded, "Put 20 dollars on today's lottery-"

"One ticket, that's it!"

"Hey, a man's got a dream."

Peter laughed at the couples banter, when Pepper addressed him, "Don't mind him, he's all excited cause Harley flew in at 3 am last night-"

Peter set down the drinks, "Don't look at me."

They took their drinks, and as a parting message, Tony said, "Underoos, come over for dinner, there's plenty to eat!"

Peter barely got five seconds before he heard the sound of distinct chatter, "So, then Yesenia walks in the room-"

"-Uh huh."

"She smells sex and cheap perfume, it smells like one of those trees that you hang from the rear-view!"

"No!"

"It's true! She screams 'who's in there with you, Julio!' Grabs a bat and kicks in the door, and she's in bed with Josè from the liquor store."

"No me diga," the younger of the two said.

"Wanda and Nat, going to the salon?"

Nat nodded, and the two chorused, "Thanks Pete!"

Monday is a busy day for him, to say the least. 

The bell on the door dings for the umpteenth time that morning, but instead of a customer, it's a small, black boy, fourteen, who's rubbing sleep out of his eyes.

"Miles, you're late," he says, his tone annoyed, but Miles knows there isn't any real bite behind it.

"Chillax," he says, making his way to the back of the store, "You know you love me."

He rolls his eyes.

Me and my cousin running just another dime-a-dozen, Mom-and-Pop, stop-and-shop and oh my god, it's gotten two darn hot-

He turned on the AC. The weather man said this summer will be one of the hottest in history.

People come through for a few cold waters and a lottery ticket, just a part of the routine, everybodies got a job, everybodies got a dream. They gossip as I sip my coffee and smirk, the first stop as people hop to work.

That's his day really. An endless blur of one dollar, two dollars, one fifty, one sixty-nine, I got it, you want a box of condoms what kind?, that's two quarters, the New York Times, you need a bag for that? The tax is added.

Like he was saying to Miles when he first came into his life, "Once you get some practice at it, you do rapid mathematics automatically."

Miles then comes out of the back, preparing himself to work the counter so Peter could do the coffee's - Peter was the only one who knew the secret recipes that kept the customers coming- successfully snapping him out of his thoughts.

"How are they today?"

"Practically everybody's stressed, but they press through the mess."

Miles nodded.

"You ain't got no skills," a voice said, as they walked into the store.

"Ned!"

Ned smiled, leaning against the counter. Peter and him were best friends growing up, so naturally, Ned was a regular in the shop, despite working long hours for a boss that didn't respect him.

"Yo, let me get a-"

"Milky way?" Peter guessed.

"...Yeah. Let me also get a-"

"Daily news."

"And a-"

"Post."

"And a most importantly, my-"

"Boss' second coffee, one cream, five sugars."

Miles wrinkled his nose at Ned's boss's absurd amount of sugar, and Ned began to talk to Peter about his job while he waited.

"I don't get it! I'm the number one earner! He can't keep me on the damn back burner-"

"Yes he can."

"I'm making moves, and I'm making deals, but guess what?"

"What?"

"Ya still ain't got no skills!"

"Hardee-Har," he said, sarcastically, pouring the creamer in.

"Has Michelle shown up yet?" Ned asked Miles, who was smiling.

"Shut up!" Peter said hastily.

"Hey, dude, don't be upset. You should tell her how you feel. Buy the girl a meal,on the real, or you ain't got no skills."

The doorbell dinged. This is why Peter was so anxious to be talking about Michelle. She normally came in around this time. Right now, she was looking at the ground, phone to her ear.

"Mr. Johnson, I have that security deposit. I've been saving to make a down-payment, and pay rent… no, no, I won't let you down-".

Ned whispered to him, "Here's your chance, ask her out."

"-I'll see you later, we can look at that lease," she said, before hanging up.

"Do something, make your move, don't freeze!"

"Hey," he said, buzzing with nerves.

"You owe me a bottle of cold champagne," she said, her voice soft and soothing. Despite this, her words made a heavy feeling form in his gut. It was something they'd thought about years ago, but only if-

"Are you moving?"

She shrugged, "Just a little credit check and I'm on that downtown train."

He tried to shake off the sad feeling, "Well, your coffee's on the house."

"Okay," she said with a smile, before turning to leave.

"Peter, ask her out."

"No way," Miles said.

But Michelle turned around, "I'll see you later… so…"

And with that, she left.

"Oh, smooth operator, oh damn, there she goes," Ned teased, before taking a look at Peter’s still kinda sad face, "Hey, dude. Take five, get some fresh air, a walk outside. You look exhausted, lost…"

"I kinda feel that way," he joked, but was it a joke?

Ned looked at him with sympathy, "Hey, the whole neighbourhood is struggling, and times are tight, and you're stuck to this corner like a streetlight…"

Ned looked at his watch, and rushed out of the shop, saying he was gonna be late and bidding adieu to the two guys, but Peter could say it back, his friends words bouncing around in his head.

Yeah, I'm a streetlight, choking on the heat. The world spins around while I'm frozen to my seat. The people that I know all keep on rolling down the street, and everyday is different so I'm switching up the beat.

Cause my parents came with nothing, they got a little more, and sure, we're poor, but yo, at least we got the store. It's all about the legacy they left with me, it's destiny, and-

One day, I'll be on the beach with Miles writing checks to me.

That's what he wants to do. His parents died, along with his aunt and uncle, leaving him in the care of Abuela. He longs to go to a beach, and reconnect with his roots. A better life, one where he isn't stuck serving coffee's.

It gets more expensive every day, in their little corner of the world. 

Turn up the stage lights, we're taking a flight to a couple of days of what it's like-

In Washington Heights.

[chiaki-translation]

Luminous Circus: Event Translation Ch3-4

For the sake of Kazu, I really wanted to read the event story for Luminous Circus, but I found out that there’s only 2 chapters available in the wiki. Sooooooo, what else to do but translate the story myself? I’m not sure that I will translate the entire play especially if it’s long, but I’m determined to translate the event story at least. Can I make it before Kazu’s birthday? Idk but I’ll try~ (Oh yeah, if this story has actually been translated, can someone tell me? Thank you~)

Ch3-4 / / Ch5-6 / / Ch7-8 / / Ch9-10 / / Epilogue

You can take a look at the first two chapters here in the wiki, and my translation will be below the cut, enjoy~

https://yaycupcake.com/a3/index.php?title=The_Luminous_Circus

Disclaimer:

A3! is owned by Liber Entertainment

Homare’s Grandfather:

You can do anything you want with this room.

You said you need a study right?

Homare’s Grandmother:

If it’s Haiku I can make it while I’m walking.

I don’t need such a big study for that.

For example, one that I made recently…

Homare’s Grandfather:

Fu, I thought it would make you happy, you don’t really like gathering for party or tea right?

I just thought that you need a place to be by yourself.

Homare’s Grandmother:

…It’s not my fault that I can’t make anything.

Let me use the place then.

Homare’s Grandfather:

What should we put here?

How about a Mahogany desk by the window.

We can get shelf from the store, and you can line up your favourite books there.

You can also place your favourite rose over there.

Homare’s Grandmother:

No. With that painting…

I’m good with a table set to have tea with you.

Homare’s Grandfather:

--

I see.

Then, let’s do as you wish.

<Time Skip>

Homare’s Grandmother:

…

Homare:

Grandmother, do you want some tea.

Homare’ Grandmother:

With pleasure.

Homare:

I always thought about it, but this place is very bleak and monotonous.

How about adding a bit more interior?

Homare’s Grandmother:

…. Fu.

Homare:

Grandmother?

Homare’s Grandmother:

We’re planning to have reinforcement work here soon.

It’s an old building, so I’ve been worried that it’s going to be blown away when typhoon came.

It seems that a big typhoon is approaching too…

I’ll leave the interior to you.

You can do anything you want.

Homare:

--Yes! I’ll make sure it has the calm and meaningful atmosphere that grandmother likes.

Homare’s Grandmother:

There’s only one thing… I want this painting to be put here as it is now.

Homare:

Ah, it’s always displayed over here.

Homare’s Grandmother:

It’s my treasure.

Homare:

Grandmother’s…

Homare’s Grandmother:

You looked surprised.

Homare:

Ah, nothing—

Who’s the name of the painter?

Homare’s Grandmother:

He’s not that famous.

That’s why, I can’t recall anything about him.

Homare:

Then, --

Homare’s Grandmother:

…

By the way, is that pocket watch still moving?

Homare:

Eh, yeah, of course.

I’ve gotten it taken care of in an excellent repair shop.

<Shifts to Hisoka/Homare’s Room>

Tasuku:

Is Arisugawa inside?

Hisoka:

…He’s staying over at his family’s home today.

Tasuku:

Then, please pass this back to Arisugawa.

Hisoka:

…The pocket watch, is it fixed?

Tasuku:

For now, but the parts are getting worn out, I think it will break soon.

The parts are not available anymore, it’s really reaching the end of its lifespan.

Handle it carefully.

If it’s subjected to shock, you’ll shorten its lifespan even more.

Hisoka:

…Understood.

Tasuku:

About Arisugawa’s grandmother’s condition…

Hisoka:

?

Tasuku:

Nothing—There’s a message inside of that pocket watch right.

It said, “To the mechanical you, with love. Sakae.”

When I look at that earlier, I’m somehow reminded of Arisugawa’s grandfather and grandmother. I’m just a bit curious.

Hisoka:

…Why not try and LIME Alice.

Tasuku:

Me, out of the blue? That would be weird isn’t it.

Hisoka:

Whoever it is, anyone would be happy if someone else expresses concern for their family.

Tasuku:

…I see. I guess so.

Hisoka:

…Zzzzzzz

Tasuku:

Don’t sleep while you’re still holding the pocket watch!

You’ll drop it!

Sigh… And I thought you said something decent for once.

<End of Chapter 3>

Director:

That was so interesting!

As Tenma-kun said, the circus scene was so powerful!

Kazunari:

The overall color was so psychedelic it’s interesting~!

Tsumugi:

The unique world view was pretty interesting too.

Sakuya:

I’ve never seen a circus before and I can’t imagine it by just reading the book, but…

After watching the movie, I thought it’s really great!

It’s like I’m sucked into the world of dream and imagination.

When I saw the audiences, who seemed to be having so much fun inside the dream world, I can’t help to think that circus is such a great thing!

Kazunari:

You know, Sumi had a part time job in a circus before.

Sakuya:

Eh!? Really!?

Tsumugi:

That part time job really fits Misumi-kun.

Sakuya:

That’s so nice~ I also want to try it.

But I don’t have athletic capabilities and reflexes like Misumi-san so it’s probably impossible for me.

Tsumugi:

Even if you’re not the performer, there might be jobs available behind the scene isn’t it.

Kazunari:

A clown for example, it doesn’t seem that they would ask for high athletic capabilities for that.

Let’s go ask Sumi about it!

Sakuya:

Right. Let’s go!

Director:

Eh, there’s a car parked in front of the dorm.

Kazunari:

Woah, isn’t that Rolls Royce!

Sakuya:

Eh! That is!?

It’s my first time seeing it.

Tsumugi:

It’s such a luxurious car.

Homare:

…

Director:

Homare-san!?

Homare:

Oh, is everyone going out.

Tsumugi:

We just came back from a movie.

Homare:

I see.

Oh yeah, Kazunari-kun.

I have something to consult to you about.

Kazunari:

Consult?

Homare:

Yeah. Actually, there’s a room that’s going to be refurbished in my family home and there’s a painting I want to decorate the room with.

For my grandmother’s sake, I want to decorate the room to her liking, so I wonder if you can draw just one piece for me.

Kazunari:

Me!?

Rather than me, isn’t is better to ask a more famous painter or something?

Homare:

My grandmother is not someone who cares about that kind of things.

In addition, even though you have no name right now, I’m certain that you are the one person I can count on to be a well-known painter one day.

Kazunari:

Aririn…

Homare:

So, let’s do a collaboration, that painting by you, who have such a promising future, and my poem!

Kazunari:

Collab!?

That sounds great! I’m looking forward to it!

Director:

A collab between Homare-san’s poem and traditional Japanese painting, what kind of wind is brewing over here I wonder…?

Tsumugi:

Umm… I can’t really imagine it, but if it’s Homare-san’s grandmother, maybe she’ll be happy about it.

Kazunari:

I kinda want to see the image of the room that you’re going to decorate, so is it okay for me to visit Aririn’s family home?

Homare:

Of course!

<Shifts to Lounge>

Tenma:

The wind is pretty strong tonight.

Tsumugi:

Looking at the path of the typhoon, it’s going to be a direct hit.

Banri:

It seems that we won’t be able to go out tomorrow.

Director:

Everyone, let’s begin the leader’s meeting.

Today, I was thinking that we should discuss our third Mixed Play performance.

Tsuzuru:

Ah, can I say something.

Director:

Yeah.

Tsuzuru:

I’ve drafted out a few plots that we can use this time, we can see if there’s anything we can use from these.

Tenma:

…There’re really a lot.

Tsumugi:

This story about animal’s banquet, sounds pretty novel.

Director:

It’s a play where everyone needs to dress up as kigurumi for the performance.

Tsumugi:

But it’s something that requires a different technique compared to the usual performance, it might be quite rewarding at the end.

Banri:

Wait, do you even need the technique to perform in a kigurumi!?

Sakuya:

This story of Tengu too, seems to have different atmosphere than usual, sounds interesting!

Tsumugi:

You’re right, we don’t have things like that before.

Tenma:

This, are we all going to wear mask?

Banri:

I would hate trying to sell this idea to Azami.

Tsumugi:

Isn’t it okay if we go for mask-like make up.

Tenma:

Why this problem?

Tsuzuru:

At this point, I haven’t thought whether all of these ideas can be realized, there’re quite a lot of problems huh~

Director:

Tsuzuru-kun, do you have anything you want to write among these ideas?

Tsuzuru:

Hmm, the one that I have most ideas for the plot will be this circus one over here.

Director:

(It’s a fairytale like story about a struggling circus group with a tinge of fantasy on the stage…)

Sakuya:

Woah, it’s a wonderful story!

I just watched a circus themed movie earlier, and I thought there’re really a lot of dreams presented in the circus--

Tsuzuru:

If that’s the case, do you want to do it, Sakuya?

Sakuya:

Is it alright!?

Tenma:

If you’re thinking about the characters, Sakuya might become the clown or the trapeze artist.

Director:

The lead, the circus troupe leader, George, I wonder who will be a good fit for him?

Tsuzuru:

Ah, actually, I have someone in mind—

*lights out*

Tenma:

Wh, wha wha wha wha wha wha what!?

Tsumugi:

A blackout?

Banri:

I’ll use the smartphone light for now.

Sakuya:

*accidentally bump into Tenma*

Ouch!

Tenma:

Wh, who who who who who’s there!

Sakuya:

So, sorry, it seems I accidentally bumped into you--

Banri:

Don’t move. I’ll turn on the lights now.

Ouch!

Tenma:

Wha, what is it this time!

Banri:

That’s, just my leg.

Tsumugi:

Tenma-kun, calm down.

*lights on*

Director:

Ah, the light’s back.

Tenma:

Fuh, don’t surprised me like that.

Tsumugi:

Tenma-kun, why are you against the wall?

Tenma:

I, It’s just a mistake!

Director:

I wonder if the other places are fine?

Anyway, let’s just conclude the meeting for now.

Sakuya:

I’ll go and see the breaker!

Tsumugi:

I’ll go with you.

Tenma:

In that case, me too--

Banri:

You better stop right there.

<End of Chapter 4>