#for me it’s easier to draw a picture for someone than to explain why I like them with words

[x-adoringvoid-x]

Hey are you chill with fanart for your selfship even though we don't really interact much, asking just in case

I don’t mind! It’s fun to get fan art! Even if we aren’t close, I appreciate that you would want to ^^

[idkwhatever580]

Avengers Team Night- Natasha

Masterlist Series Masterlist

Pairings: Natasha romanoff x reader romantic. Avengers x reader platonic

Prompt: what I think Nat would choose for her night on the avengers bonding nights.

Warnings: swearing, lmk if I need to add any more!

A/N: disclaimer, this is what I personally think they would do. So if it isn’t what you pictured I apologize :)

Nobody’s pov

As everyone fills into the main living room they stand and wait for instruction.

As they look around they see that the couches that are usually all facing the tv are now facing inwards towards each other so that everyone can talk.

Nat comes out and says

“Everybody pick a spot. If I have to move you I will so behave”

Tony pitches in

“Ooh what are we doing? Playing spin the bottle?”

Natasha quickly shuts him down and says

“No. We’re sitting down. Now behave or I’ll put you in timeout.”

Steve wants to laugh but he knows better than to rest Natasha’s patience.

They all start to sit down.

(The squares are the couch cushions to separate them lol. I thought it would be easier to draw it and take a picture rather than try to explain)

Thor pitches in and says

“What are we doing today lady Natasha?”

She smiles and says

“We’re gonna talk. About our greatest fears. And nobody is going to judge. No laughing. No comments. Just support. We won’t be making fun of their fears even if you think it is trivial because you wouldn’t want them to make fun of your fear.”

Some groans go across the room. Mainly the guys. But some of them are oddly quiet. Tony hasn’t said a word since Natasha started and you’re impressed.

Wanda speaks up and says

“Who’s going first?”

Nat shrugs her shoulders and says

“We could go at it any way. Youngest to oldest. Oldest to youngest. Pick someone and go clockwise. Take turns as we feel called”

Steve says

“I wouldn’t want to pressure anybody into anything so I think taking turns as we feel comfortable is a good one”

Y/n’s pov

Nat nods her head and I smile. We kind of sit awkwardly for a bit and then Thor says

“I’ll go.”

We smile at him and all wait patiently.

“My biggest fear would be if I was not worthy.”

We listen intently but he doesn’t go on any further and Nat says

“Do you want to explain or go deeper into that?”

He sighs as he nods his head and readjusts his posture a bit.

“I guess I do not know why I feel this way. I have just always been told that Thor is worthy. But what is Thor if not worthy?”

I smile and get an idea. So I say

“He’s a friend.”

Wanda smiles at me and nods her head and joins in

“He’s funny”

Bucky pitches in

“He is strong”

Tony smiles and says

“He is family”

While we are all saying these things Thor smiles and says

���Thank you.”

Nat shakes her head and says

“You know. Thor I don’t think being worthy is dictated by a hammer. I think it is dictated by your heart. It doesn’t matter how strong you are. If you do not have a good heart then you are not worthy. And let me tell you this. You have a good heart.”

He tears up a bit and he says

“Thank you. I think my turn is done now”

We nod our heads and let him be finished.

Bruce gets some courage and says

“I think my fear is the big guy taking control and not being able to get it back. I mean. You��ve seen how he is. And it is sometimes hard for me to get back out. It’s a constant battle.”

A lot of us nod our heads understanding the battling self aspect. Steve says

“Maybe if you weren’t always fighting with him it would be easier yes? If you could work with him somehow then the both of you could live harmoniously and not have as many problems.”

Bruce nods his head and takes the information. But he kind of shuts down and we move on.

I grab Nat’s hand since I’m trying to gain the courage to take a turn.

Yelena starts speaking before I can even gain an ounce of courage

“I guess I am afraid of men. Or whatever”

I smile and say

“Wanna unpack that?”

She shakes her head and I nod mine. I don’t need much to know why she doesn’t want to talk about it. And that’s okay.

Nat then says

“Who’s next?”

I sign and say

“I’ll go.”

They all look at me and I kind of shrink up.

But Nat’s reaffirming hand on my thigh helps me. I take a breath and say

“My biggest fear is change. I don’t like change. I don’t like not having control over every aspect of my life. It’s hard. And scary.”

They all nod and Steve says

“You know change is inevitable, but I won’t lie. You’re right about it being scary. When I came out of the ice I remember they tried to ease me into it. But they made a wrong choice of radio station because the game that was playing I had been to. So I knew something was wrong and I freaked out. It was hard for me to transition into this world. Sometimes it still is hard.”

Bucky chimes in

“Yeah. When all we knew was one thing and we were suddenly thrust into a world with a completely different view it was terrifying. But we make do.”

Yelena speaks up

“When I was freed I didn’t know what to do with myself. I bought a jacket with a million pockets on it because it was the first thing that was mine and only mine. But I’ve learned to embrace the change. Don’t get me wrong I still hate it. But when I take a second to breathe I see the beauty in change.”

I smile and nod my head.

“Thanks guys”

A few of the other avengers take their turns and then Clint says

“I’m going to just say it. I’m afraid of clowns.”

Tony looks at him and says

“Clowns? Like circus clowns?”

I give Tony a death stare to remind him that we’re not judging and he nods. Clint goes on to say

“Yeah. I grew up in a circus. It’s kind of ironic. But they just terrify me.”

I nod my head and we finish up with Tony.

“I don’t have any fears”

We all glare at him and Nat says

“Everyone is scared of something. It’s okay you can be honest. This is a sage space”

Tony sighs and says

“Okay fine… I guess I am afraid of something.”

Thor says

“What is it?”

He bites his cheek and says

“I am afraid… of losing the thing I love most.”

Bruce accidentally judges like we said we wouldn’t do and he says

“What? Your a.i.?”

Tony shakes his head and says

“You guys. I’m afraid that I will never be strong enough. And one day you will all leave me because I am not good enough.”

We look at him and say

“Oh tony we would never leave you. You are family.”

Pietro pitches in and says

“Ohana means family. And family sticks together.”

Tiny nods his head and says

“When we had that big fight about the accords those years ago I was terrified. So scared that all of you would realize that what we were doing was a lose lose situation so you would just give up on me. Like my parents did.”

Nat shakes her head and says

“We love you Tony. And we might have had fights before but we’re able to put our differences aside now. We are family. And we won’t leave you. And you are enough”

We all end up in a group hug which is super warm and comfy considering I am next to Thor (the expert hugger) and we all just start talking back and forth until we decide we should go to bed.

I grab Nat’s hand and say

“That was a good pick for team night baby”

She smiles and says

“Thank you Detka. Now. About your fear of change, could I ask you something that might scare you?”

I tense up a bit as we enter our shared room and say

“Sure.”

She smiles and says

“I’ve been thinking…”

I cut her off and say

“That’s never good”

She smacks my shoulder as I laugh a bit and then she continues

“As I was saying, I’ve been thinking we should get a cat!”

My eyebrows raise up high and I say

“A cat?”

She nods her head and says

“We’ve been together for a while now and I just want a fur baby with you.”

I smile and say

“Okay. But I’m not cleaning its litter box!”

She smiles and says

“Oh alright.”

——

A/n: I hope y’all liked it!! It took way too long for me to finish 😔😭

Taglist

@ilovesnat @ihartnat @marvelnatasha12346 @moistblobfish @justarandomreaderxoxo @lovelyy-moonlight @symp4nat

[okkennymay]

This time around I thought I would make a comic relaying the events after the last time I posted, because my gosh is it easier to explain with pretty pictures than upsetting words >vO I prefer to make jokes about my situation than anything, ‘cause honestly it’s a solid way of dealing with it and I take so many medications as it is, why not add laughter to it I say! ( •̀ ω •́ )✧

Despite my condition’s best efforts I still managed to organise and complete a commission with someone through emails! Thank you @waezi2 you were so patient as I arose from my grave every other day to get things done (❁´◡`❁) Fighting my body and winning to complete it was the victory I needed! The sheer satisfaction I get from a commission well received by someone is like pure nectar to me~ Sweet sustenance I just can’t get enough of! The money don’t hurt either, Disability Support Pensions do not go far in this economy 👀 This is as close as I can get to having a job and I wont let C.V.S (Cyclic vomiting Syndrome) or Chrohns take that from me! 

I’m raring to dive into more if anyone’s interested ♪(´▽｀) I’m just about to post a new “commissions sheet” to broadcast that very fact >vO I do love having something to draw between Ectober pages~

[huesofvioletandpurple]

A few days ago, the DRDT channel made public a “character song” playlist with sixteen songs inside (link). Naturally, considering this means that every character has a theme song of their own, I became Fucking Obsessed and tried matching each song to every character

Out of sixteen, I have exactly Four I am completely and absolutely confident in. That’s like, (checks notes), a quarter of the songs. I wish four was as neat of a number as three but unfortunately I do not get a choice in that regard. This would’ve been a quick post on which song I think matches with who + why but these guys made me recite an essay to myself as I paced around the room. So they deserve their own post <3.

Featuring: screenshots, hidden quotes (link) (required reading), and a shit ton of brainrot. explanations are below cut. tl;dr:

Rose is Cartoons

Charles is Asymptotic

Nico is Drawing Pins

Teruko is Good Grief

=

Rose Lacroix is Cartoons

[plain text: Rose Lacroix is Cartoons]

Track #4 is Cartoons by Louie Zong, and I have decided this is Rose’s track too. This is one many, many others have suspected as well. Starting it off with this first because it’s the simplest to explain: Rose is an artist, the lyrics are about art; or, at the very least, uses animation and drawing as metaphors.

Abstractions how I live my day to day, [...] Hard to explain, And to express, Forever just a work-in-progress.

The song in general uses drawing to explain feeling burnt out/not passionate about. Well. Your passions. Rose states herself that her work can only give her catharsis, considering none of it technically “hers” anymore.

[ID: Two screenshots of  Rose from chapter 2 episode 5. She is in the dressing room talking to Teruko, and has her hand on her neck as she looks downwards. Transcript: All I do is make paintings on other’s beck-and-call. It’s been so long that I don’t think I remember how to paint something original anymore. / There’s no value in the creations of someone who’s fallen so far from artistry. The only thing I can get out of art is catharsis. End ID]

Which is even more tragic, considering how she had huge ambitions as a child

[ID: One screenshot from the same episode. Rose now rests her chin in her fist. Transcript: I wanted to be a great painter when I was a kid, but things didn’t turn out that way. None of my original stuff ever sold well. End ID] 

There’s also these lyrics here

Can't hold a pencil or a thought. (Oh uh oh) Can't paint myself something I'm not.

Tryin' to make that ol' deadline, But all I've got are two dots and a line.

Rose knows she’s talented; in fact, I’d argue she’s one of the most secure about her talent than anyone in the class. She understands how useful it is in the killing game when paired with her photographic memory. In chapter 2, however, she hesitates, despite knowing this more than anyone.

[ID: Three screenshots of Rose from chapter 2 episode 8. She is sitting against a wall, knees drawn to her chest as she buries her face in her arms. Transcript of her dialogue: I don’t want to find out what kind of corpse Arei left. It’s easier for me to pretend nothing bad happened and forget about everything tomorrow. / That’s why I’m sitting here, wallowing in my own guilt, unable to do anything helpful. / You probably need me to draw a picture of a crime scene, like last time. That’s something only I can do that can help everyone. End ID]

She doesn’t want to use her talent that way—she can’t “paint herself something she’s not”, and she would “make the deadline”, but she can’t just will herself to simply Do Something when it’s draining and linked to her trauma from the previous case—and she’s more self conscious of it than anyone, that she only has “two dots and a line” —an upset face.

There’s also her hidden quote from the inspect elements of her character page: “In the end, all I can do is watch my wretched life go on.” I think it fits with the general theme of being incredibly discouraged and burnt out. “Forever a work in progress” indeed.

=

Charles Cuevas is Asymptotic

[pt: Charles Cuevas is Asymptotic]

I’ve chosen Asymptotic by (once more,) Louie Zong as Charles’ song. I could say it’s because of the mathsy theming and Charles is literally a fuckging chemist and leave it at that—I almost chose this as Min’s song because of how groovy and nerdy (affectionate) it was. I’m sorry to say it’s because of angst.

We’re aymptotic, Divided, by the smallest, slimmest line

Hey, so you know how Charles has an older brother ?

And you know how he didn’t know this until one of the motives told him ? So now there’s a good chance he won’t remember him fully for a long, long time ?

[you’re] Not imaginary. But it's complex! The limits are infinitely great

Charles now knows of this family member he has no recollection of. He most likely existed at some point—every other secret, though written to show the worst of the cast, are based on some sort of truth. I have a pet theory that his phobia of blood is connected to his brother, considering amnesia of a traumatic event is a common occurrence, and he doesn’t recall the origin of his haemophobia either, which opens up the possibility of them being linked. As long as he has this amnesia, any memory of his brother will always be far from his grasp.

As close as we could ever get, you'll be just out of reach

His hidden quote is about how it’s better to just forget; that means those events weren’t worth keeping.

if you forgot it, then it probably wasn’t important to begin with. none of those memories should ever be kept anyway.

In the context of the creator looking at the lyrics of the song and going “omg that’s blorbo from my brain”, the song refers to him as believing that he and his brother are asymptotes—lines that greatly resemble each other that will never reach, existing in different planes altogether.

=

Nico Hakobyan is Drawing Pins

[pt: Nico Hakobyan is Drawing Pins]

So.

Drawing Pins by Nothing but Thieves ! This song in particular fucking Stumped me. The lyrics are good, they slap, the Creator has fantastic taste in music; I just couldn’t figure out who the Hell it could be. Then, I had an epiphany.

This epiphany, by the way, is also probably one of my BIGGEST reaches. It completely redefines the song—even MORESO than how I treated asymptotic—and focuses hard on One aspect of Nico’s character.

(In my defense, it’s a really huge part.)

I don't feel like I belong Here at all

Tell me what you did it What you did it What you did it for 'Cause I can't figure it out

What do I have to do To be loved, loved by you

These are the lyrics in particular that made me go “wait a god damn Second”.

Firstly, not feeling like they belong.

[ID: Two screenshots of Nico from chapter 2 episode 6. They hold their arm and look nervously to the side in the first screenshot, then bury their face in the collar of their shirt in the next. Transcript: I thought you would laugh at me. I was worried you would pick up rocks and start throwing them at me or pick up clumps of mud and start throwing them at me. / I’m sorry, this never happens! Usually people call me abnormal or say that I’m just trying to be special, in a derogatory way. End ID]

Nico has been a frequent victim of bullying. Even though their current classmates are accepting, that just made them wary that something was off, because their past experiences stuck with them ! I feel like it should go unsaid that that, already on its own, is pretty fucking isolating !

[ID: a screenshot from the same episode. Nico is in the same pose. They say “And then they leave me out of everything and never talk to me again because there’s something wrong with me.” End ID]

So, self-explanatory line in the context of Nico. Cool. Cool. What am I seeing in the other lyrics, though ?

Tell me what you did it What you did it What you did it for 'Cause I can't figure it out

Okay, so. You know Nico’s hidden quote ? It’s “why should I own up for the mistakes someone else made?”, if you’re wondering.

There’s another reason they don’t feel like they belong.

There’s this running thread of Nico misunderstanding social cues, causing conflict and being scorned for it, but never being explained why those social cues exist, leading to them confused on why something so arbitrary is held to such importance. This causes this cycle that they’re just expected to escape, yet not being given the understanding or tools to do.

[ID: Three screenshots of Nico from the same episode. Nico looks down at their hands, then scratches their chin, then buries the bottom half of their face in their shirt. Transcript: If you’re having dinner and want someone to pass the salt, you can say, “Please pass the salt,”  or you can say “Give me the salt.” / One of those things is supposed to be more polite than the other, right? But why? They both meant the same thing. They’re just slightly different mixes of words. / It’s like that. I don’t understand why some mixes of words come off as ‘rude’ and some don’t, even if they mean tthe same thing. End ID]

I suspect the hidden quote is of Nico snapping, of not caring about being polite or nice anymore. They are already honest, which escalated their animosity with Ace, but this time they’re not caving if someone tells them that they’re being “too blunt” about it.

What do I have to do To be loved, loved by you

But it was never on purpose. They are not “blunt” or “brutally honest” to Ace or David whoever because they want to build that kind of reputation. I think these lyrics are suggesting a culmination of their arc, “What can I do to be loved ? Why should I apologise in place of the person who did hurt you ? Why am I constantly apologising for my existence ?

How do I win over people like you?”

I am fully aware that I may be reaching, but if you see the song as a representation of Nico’s rage and resentment that they had to “hold down by drawing pins”, you can at the very least see where I’m coming from.

=

Teruko is Good Grief

[pt: Teruko Tawaki is Good Grief]

Good Grief by Bastille, aka the last song on the playlist !

I’ve seen people say it’s a Whit song, or a Charles song, and I see it ! Death is very important in both of their arcs, and so is their way of mourning. However, I feel like it couldn’t be anyone but Teruko, and I also feel like there’s a very important part of her that people often forget.

[ID: Two screenshots from the episode 1 of the first chapter. They are lines of Teruko’s inner monologue. Transcript: His name, her face, it’s just barely out of reach. I claw and grasp through the dusty haze of my memories. / Choking on my nostalgia, I keep begging for you to come back. End ID]

[ID: A screenshot from chapter 1 episode 9 of Mai Akasaki turning around and smiling at the viewer. End ID]

Teruko mourns.

At the very least, she tries. She misses people. She grieves. That is what drives her distrust—she knows how much love hurts, and doesn’t want to feel that way.

[ID: A screenshot from chapter 2 episode 3. Teruko playing with succulents in her room as if they are dolls. One succulent has an eyepatch and knife, and the other has a knife and a sticky note, with a cowlick resembling Teruko’s. End ID]

Even in this silly moment of Teruko playing with cacti—it shows she didn’t WANT Xander to die ! She misses him. She wishes it could’ve gone better and blames herself for trusting—and notice how Xander in this scenario stands by her side.

Every minute and every hour I miss you, I miss you, I miss you more

She “chokes on her nostalgia” when she thinks of two unnamed people, “begging them to come back”. Will she ever admit it? Fuck no are you kidding me she couldn’t be emotionally vulnerable to save her Life. But Teruko constantly loses and is never given time or space to mourn (That is what I meant when I said she tries), and it’s led her to bottling and hiding them to further isolate herself, to prevent her from losing the ones she loves again.

In my thoughts you're far away And you are whistling the melody, Whistling the melody Crystallising clear as day Oh I can picture you so easily, Picture you so easily

Again, the two people are “far away”, she’s half forgotten after all. But Mai Akasaki’s image is as clear as day. Her memories are one of the only traces of Mai we have at all.

I could repeat myself over and over with pretty much every lyric of this song in particular, so I suggest seeking it out and listening to it yourself. I cannot stress enough how much this song SCREAMS Teruko to me

=

Overall, I’m fully ready to be wrong. I do not have a great track record when predicting story arcs. However, I have thought about this for a very intense bit of time, so this is to work as a way to get my thoughts out there.

I have a few hunches, like Shun-Ran for David or Jotaro’s theme for Xander, but both are just hunches, and neither are as strong as the four above.

Anyways, have a great day ! holy shit this is over 1.7K words excluding the image descriptions.

[mrsreginagold]

Fic: Let Me Steal This Moment From You Now

Fandom: Nikita 

Pairing: Ari Tasarov x Nikita Mears (Nikari)

Rating: PG13

Spoilers: For “The Life We’ve Chosen”. Serves as a missing scene in the episode. 

Summary: The conversation between Ari and Nikita on the night before pivotal events occur ends differently.

Author’s note: I promise that this is the only time I will ever treat this pair as the tragedy that they are. It legitimately hurts to not give them a happy ending, but I wanted to explore how a kiss would have happened if there had been a chance for one. To make things flow a little easier, I did have Nikita and Michael put the brakes on their engagement, just as a selfish little caveat since I was allowing the canonical ending to remain here.

On AO3

Let Me Steal This Moment From You Now

                  She wasn’t certain how he remained so calm. If it had been her in his place – she would be in a state of panic. 

                  Nikita Mears had to admire Ari Tasarov’s resolve, particularly given the circumstances. There was no guarantee that the mission would succeed, even with her promises – which were not hollow, but still tinged with pragmatism. 

                  Clearly, he had been in the business long enough to read the signs and draw his own conclusions. He had only been under Division’s protection (though really, hers) for the span of close to a month, and their history didn’t exactly paint a shining picture. 

                  Yet: in spite of everything she had put him through, he appeared to trust her. She wished she could understand why. Their past was rife with tension and multiple cases of backstabbing, mainly on her part. At the same time, the attraction that had sparked not long after they had met only continued to grow, which perhaps explained why she had been so tough on him in the first place. 

                  It was difficult, admitting when you liked someone.  It was downright impossible when said person worked for an agency that rivaled the one you wanted to destroy, at least at the time. 

                  Nikita sighed and pulled her overcoat tighter around her body to guard against the chill in the air, her gaze raking over her companion as they stood, silent, outside of the truck they were using as transport. 

                  Ari appeared less fazed than she did by the rapidly dropping temperature. It made sense; he hailed from a country known for frigid winters. 

                  He looked in her direction, those perceptive, beautiful blue eyes catching hers, his brow furrowing when he noticed her discomfort. “Perhaps we should wait inside?”

                  She shook her head, rubbing her palms together. “It’s fine. They shouldn’t be too much longer.”

                  “Nikita, surely you realize that I don’t like seeing you distressed?” His tone softened, as did the look on his face. 

                  The beautiful, dark-haired operative’s heart did a tiny cartwheel at his compassion, but her response was clipped. “Then maybe stop being so defeatist regarding your survival rate.” 

                  He blinked, astonished. “I’m not being defeatist. I’m merely being realistic.”

                  “Then stop it,” she griped, stomping away from him, though uncertain of where she could go since they still had to wait for the return of their companions. 

                  Snow crunched under her boots as she drew to a halt and took a deep, steadying breath. She hadn’t meant to start an argument – and really, it had not reached that point. Ari simply brought out that side of her.

                  She went still when she felt his hand on her shoulder. Of course he’d followed. 

                  “I’m sorry,” she murmured, not wanting to turn around just yet. “I didn’t mean to snap at you.”

                  “Clearly, something else is bothering you,” his touch drifted down, light and fleeting before he squeezed reassuringly at her arm. “What is it?”

                  She twisted to face him, tipping her head back due to their height difference. He really was quite handsome, with his striking, angular features and a stunning gaze that pierced right into her soul. 

                  “Why are you so resigned towards death, Ari? Would it be easier, after everything you’ve done?”

                  His lips pursed before he responded. “Do you think I want to die, Nikita?”

                  “Maybe,” she shrugged. 

                  He grasped at her shoulders abruptly. “Of course I don’t want to! I want…” he trailed off, letting go of her just as quickly as he’d latched on. 

                  She watched him begin to pace, muttering quietly in his native tongue.

                  She narrowed her eyes and crossed her arms over her chest. “You can’t get out of this by trying to be incomprehensible.”

                  “That’s not –” he threw up his hands in frustration. “Nikita, you seem to be under the impression that there isn’t anything out there for me that’s worth surviving this for. You’re wrong. There is, but it’s not something I can possibly have.”

                  She took a step towards him tentatively. “What is it?”

                  “Hmm?”

                  “What is it that you think you can’t have?”

                  His eyes met hers then, the clear expression in them causing her heart to clench. 

                  Then he said the words that she had been secretly longing for. “Simply put, you.”

                  Her pulse jumped at the affirmation, her breath catching in her throat. 

                  “If there was time, we’d be someplace else – preferably warmer – where I could put this in more poetic terms and make love to you for hours on end.” He started towards her. “Where this ridiculous world we choose to be a part of doesn’t have to matter and I can finally have you all to myself. But I know it’s nothing but a fantasy. You have Michael and I –

                  She brought one hand up to his mouth to silence him momentarily. “Michael’s not part of this equation. We’re taking a break.”

                  “Surely not. What about the engagement?” He gaped at her in disbelief.

                  “I gave him back the ring, for now. The truth is: when you told me that there wasn’t a happily ever after in this business, your words resonated. I rushed into Michael’s arms not long after I rejected you the third time, and things escalated so quickly that I never really thought about what I truly wanted. I got caught up in the perfect ideal and then it all crumbled to dust when I had to cut off his hand to save him."

                  "That wasn’t your fault,” he whispered. “You did what you thought you needed to.”

                  “There’s nothing I wouldn’t do to protect the people I care about. That includes you, Ari. I wouldn’t be here if you didn’t matter to me. But now time is running out,” tears began to form at the edges of her eyes, forcing her to wipe them away hastily. “Why didn’t you say anything about how you felt earlier?”

                  “You mean besides the fact that I thought I’d already lost you to another? Because I never believed that you would return my feelings.”

                  She glanced at her feet, shame taking over. “God, Ari, I’m so sorry. This really isn’t the way I wanted you to spend what might be your final night alive.”

                  “I’m spending it with you. That’s enough,” surprisingly warm, elegant fingers curled under her chin, tilting her head back so she could see the grateful expression on his attractive face. 

                  Before she could say another word, his lips brushed hers – feathery and tentative, as if asking permission. 

                  She pulled back long enough to catch his eyes and grant it, before gripping at his coat collar and yanking him to her for a proper kiss. 

                  They embraced tenderly, his hands moving around to cradle the back of her head so he could angle his mouth more passionately over hers. 

                  Nikita sighed, giving herself over to it – to him. Ari’s kiss was tinged with a melancholy that couldn’t be fully shaken, and she could feel a part of her heart shattering.

                  To keep herself from sobbing, she gripped on to him tighter. She needed him to know how deeply she had fallen in love with him. 

                  He seemed to get the message quickly, and she gasped when she was unexpectedly pressed up against the side of the truck. She hadn’t even realized that they were that close to it. 

                  The mood shifted, heat blossoming between them as what had started out as innocent evolved into a full-blown make out session. 

                  With surprising strength, he hoisted her up in his arms, never once breaking from their kiss. Instead, they met over and over, exchanging fervent bites and teasing at each other’s lips, while she circled her legs around his waist to anchor them together. 

                  Her hands traveled to undo a few buttons to his shirt. It was far too cold to let reason completely leave the premises, but she still needed to feel him in some way. She wanted to know what she would be missing as their future wasn’t set in stone. 

                  Her fingers came in contact with the firm tone of his chest, her nails scraping through the soft hair that dusted his skin which was flushed with heat. 

                  Ari groaned, his lips straying from hers to lay claim on her throat, one hand dragging the zipper to her jacket down further for better access. 

                  Nikita hissed when he bit down on her neck, arousal jolting straight to her core. “We shouldn’t do this here.”

                  “You’re right,” his words were muffled against her flesh, his teeth scraping provocatively. “Of course you’re right…you deserve a soft bed and a man who isn’t courting death.”

                  “And yet I want you.” 

                  This finally prompted him to pull away and look at her. For the first time since the entire ordeal began, there was hope in his eyes. 

                  Her heart skipped a beat. “I love you. We’ll figure a way out of this.”

                  “I love you,” the conviction was unmistakable, as was the strength of his arms as they wrapped around her, even when he set her carefully on her feet. 

                  They took another moment to bask in one another, foreheads touching and eyes closing as they breathed each other in. 

                  Eventually, they made their way back inside the truck, fingers laced together as they contemplated where to go from there. 

                  Little did they know – there wouldn’t be a later. 

The End

[oillydiya]

Things Between Us | Cillian Murphy x OC

Chapter 5 : Get to Know

Summary: Sansa, a 26-year-old graduate student, who unexpectedly encounters a twist of fate when she comes across an actor she never knew before!

Sansa led the four actors into the living area. They all sat down on the large sofa that was prominently placed in front of the bookshelf. She sat on the sofa opposite them. The girl was extremely nervous at this moment. She’s not acting right. Because this was the first time she had brought a stranger into her apartment. All four of them were also men. That doubled the nervousness.

This was not normal for her to blindly bring someone into her own safe space. Even though she knew they could be trusted, it still made the girl feel very nervous.

“Why did you choose to study art?” Cillian asked.

The young woman thought for a moment.

“Um…. It’s a continuation of when my parents passed away.” She said with a sad look in her eyes. “I was only seventeen at the time. I didn’t know how to deal with various feelings. How did that come to me? I’m not a good speaker and don’t express myself much. One day, I sat down to draw a picture. At that time, I painted it with every emotion I had. So it made me know Art has no voice. No need to sit and talk. It is a space for us to easily express our feelings. And when that work is finished, paintings are able to communicate the emotions of the owner of the piece. Without speaking. Just looking at it, we can understand that What does the owner of this work want to convey? And how are you feeling? So that’s what I chose to study and pay attention to.”

She tried to explain her feelings to Cillian, who asked, and other people who are sitting and listening intently to understand as easily as possible.

“Wow, you explain the word. The art is really good, I can understand that,” Fin said.

“I’m just explaining my feelings. Art is the ultimate in emotional fluidity. There is no definition.”

“Are you English? Or did you just come to study here?” Stephen asked.

“I’m English,” She continued. “But I’ve only been back in England for two years. Before that, I went to study in America.”

“Oh, I guess that’s why you have an American accent. Because of this,” Joe added.

She laughed.

“Yes, I have an American accent. It’s much easier to speak and listen to than a British accent.”

Everyone laughed in agreement at her words.

“True!”

“You all work in the film industry in the same way? You mean they’re all actors?” She asked them, curious.

“Uh… No! I am a screenwriter and director. But we work together. In the series Peaky Blinders,” Stephen replied, gesturing to Cillian, Joe, and Fin.

“These three people. Who are the main actors of the story” The three male actors turned around and smiled at her in a friendly way.

“Oh wow… am I hanging out with celebrities? Guess I’ll have to look into this!” She excitedly replied to them.

“I’m still very surprised. When you say to your friend, ‘Don’t know Cillian,’” Stephen said and laughed.

The person being talked about, “I’m not that famous!” Cillian interrupted his screenwriter friend.

“Sorry, I don’t really watch many series or movies.” Sansa bowed her head in acceptance. She immediately felt anxious. Because since her parents passed away, she had never been to a movie theater or even looked for other entertainment. The young woman could only keep to herself and study the three courses. She has to divide her study time every day between the two universities, with no days off.

“I study quite hard. So I didn’t have much time to do any other activities during that time. I had never been to a movie theater in the five years I studied in America. Because I have to read a book and deliver work every day. That’s why I didn’t get to know the actors much. I just came back to watch movies or series when I was back in England.”

She replied with a sad, remorseful look on her face.

“No need to apologize. We understand that you study very hard. It’s strange that you don’t know us,” Cillian told her understandingly.

“I studied really hard. Sometimes I used to sit and think, ‘Why did I do it?!’” The girl laughed at what she had done.

“Final period for each major. I haven’t slept at all. Especially if it’s the same time as submitting work or taking exams. I’m like a walking pudding.”

She stood up. Wobbling around in her chair to show them her condition then.

“It’s terrible!!!” She moaned under her breath.

“We can imagine.” They laughed at the girl’s expression a moment ago.

“Are you alone, or do you have siblings? Can I ask?” Finn asked.

The woman was a little fumbling at the question, until Stephen noticed.

“Hey, you’re making her uncomfortable, Fin,” he admonished his fellow actor.

“I’m fine. I just don’t know how to say it. I’m an only child.”

She added, “I’m quite an introvert. That’s why I don’t get to meet anyone or talk to anyone much. Except for friends in class who study together. But I only talk during class. Didn’t hang out or talk outside either. I have only one close friend, Gigi, who I met at Mr. Louis’ shop only today.”

She was extremely nervous. Because it is quite a personal matter. And they were strangers. But when she thought about it, each person was very good to her. Plus, they helped her even though they didn’t even know each other. That’s why she decided to tell them her personal story.

Cillian listened intently to the woman. He felt a lot of sympathy for her. With her personality he saw from the first time. And from the fact that he overheard her and her friend’s conversation in that restaurant. Let him know that she is peaceful and likes privacy. The more her parents and family left. In life, there is only one close friend like this. He felt sad for her.

“It must be pretty lonely, right? Being all alone?” Cillian asked her.

Sansa’s eyes flickered slightly to the owner of the voice.

“There are some, but I’m used to things like this…I know that I look rather strange,” she laughed.

“Oh, not at all,” he hurriedly protested, along with the others as well.

“Well, I’m a rather boring person. It shouldn’t be much fun to talk about. And shy too. It was very difficult for me to get to know or talk to people. Makes me not have many friends. And I don’t use social media either. That made me less likely to get to know people.”

She was still nervous like that.

“You are very fun to talk to. We confirm,” Fin said.

The young woman smiled in response. Before changing the subject because now she was starting to feel uncomfortable with being the one being questioned.

“Do you guys like listening to the piano? I’ll play it for you. The wine will taste better.”

“Good. We’d like to hear it,” Stephen replied.

Sansa sat in her usual position in front of the heartwarming piano, prominently placed next to the sofa where they sat. She raised a glass of wine to enhance the emotional luxury. Her slender, beautiful fingers were skillfully and gracefully following the notes, playing the composition expertly. The young woman delighted in the sounds and those musical notes. Sansa didn't need to look at the sheet music at all; she simply let her feelings and expertise guide her, as she did every time she played. The young woman wasn't sure how long she immersed herself in playing those notes until she heard the rising sound of applause.

“Wow, that is so sweet,” said Stephen. Everyone gathered around the young woman around her piano at this moment.

“You play smoothly. Without having to remember or even look at the notes,” Cillian praised.

She smiled at the compliment.

“Do you know how to play? Do you want to try it?” she asked Stephen, the oldest man. He looked like he could play the piano.

“That’s enough. I think I can.”

“Then let’s collab. I play the violin. You play the piano.”

“Sure. I’ll probably have to retake the course, haha,” he laughed.

“What songs can you play?”

“Hit The Rock Jack, then. It would go well with the violin.”

“You chose the songs well.”

Stephen began to play his fingers on the piano as Sansa started to passionately perform a violin solo. Both of them seamlessly played into each other, creating a smooth harmony. The young woman never forgot the feeling; she had never had a friend to play the piano or do something like this together. It was the first time she felt the joy of having friends who shared the same passion. Meeting a group of people with similar interests felt truly special. Tonight's musical session with them was incredibly enjoyable.

“Awesome, you’re so talented, Sansa. I never thought I would meet someone as multi-talented as you.” Stephen stood up and applauded the woman appreciatively, including the other people.

Sansa stepped back, bent her knees, and bowed her head at the flattery, with a shy face but full of a smile of happiness.

Meanwhile, Cillian was staring at a young woman’s bass. It was very beautiful and caught his eye. He could only touch and rub it, but he didn’t dare to pick it up or try playing with it.

“That was the first bass my father bought me. It’s so beautiful and classic,” a young woman’s voice next to him said.

“True. I agree. It’s very beautiful.”

“Do you know how to play?”

“He’s the best,” Stephen interjected, adding, “He was a musician before he was an actor.”

"You're exaggerating, Steve," Cillian replied, turning to his friend with a shy smile.

"Give it a try, go ahead. It's absolutely fantastic. You'll love the sound of it," the bassist girl invited.

Cillian thought for a moment. Should he be rude and pick up her things to play with? But there might be some encouragement or encouragement, and the owner has given permission.

“Okay.” He picked up the bass and adjusted the strings, trying a few notes. Cillian thought for a moment. What song should he try with this bass? ‘Ah… that’s his favorite song,’ he thought, before starting to strum The Beatles’ Hey Jude.

Sansa observed the performer in front of her as Cillian played her favorite bass. He looked even more charming when he held that bass. He was skilled, playing it smoothly. She thought he must really like that particular bass; it was fascinating to watch.

“Would you like to try playing together?” she offered, just to add to the fun.

“Alright.”

The young woman picked up another one of other favorite bass. She sat and competed with him. And there were three audience members sitting and cheering for the two musicians.

"Don't Let Me Down, okay?" she said to him.

Cillian nodded in agreement.

She started strumming the first two chords, and he followed it up with the back chord part. The two played together smoothly. It’s like they’ve practiced together before. Both of them play very well together. Their hands were extremely agitated. Sansa glanced at Cillian slightly, thinking to herself, ‘Tonight’s bass playing for you and him, what a night to remember.’

“Sansa, you are amazing. So you’re going to be good at everything? And you did well too, Cillian.” Stephen praised the two of them.

“You play so well, Sansa, I can’t fight you. Did you train yourself?” Cillian asked her curiously. He thought it was strange that a girl with such a sweet exterior looked like her could play bass aggressively like this.

“I have been practicing playing since I was a child. My father taught me. So it gave me some basics. So I played enough,” she answered him humbly.

“This is not enough. How can you be so good at everything?” Joe said with an appreciative laugh.

"I just do well in what I'm interested in," Sansa replied with a genuine sentiment. She never considered herself exceptionally talented. She didn't have specific goals in life; she just did what she wanted to do, pursued her interests, and tried to learn and excel in them.

“You are amazing.” Everyone praised her again.

The young woman saw that by now the bottle of wine was empty and it was getting dark outside.

“Are you all going to leave now? It’s already evening. I don’t want to disturb you too much. I’ll send it down right now.”

She cut them off so they didn’t have a chance to reply, whether they want to stay or whatever.

“Okay.” Everyone seemed to understand what the girl was thinking.

Sansa led the four men into the private elevator to descend to lobby of the apartment. While in the elevator, the young woman felt the need to say something to Cillian since he was standing beside her.

“Thank you very much about helping find the gallery.” She turned to thank him.

Sansa was feeling incredibly nervous because her face was now very close to Cillian. With both of them being about the same height, around 5'7 and 5'8, their eyes locked onto each other at precisely the right angle.

“Congratulations. You deserve it.” He smiled kindly back at her.

She walked them to the apartment door. Stephen was the first who came to say goodbye and hug the beautiful young woman. “Today we had a lot of fun. I’m glad I got to know someone as wonderful as you, Sansa.”

Followed by Fin, Joe, and Cillian, who came in to say goodbye and hug one last time.

Sansa felt incredibly nervous because she had never been hugged by so many men before, even if it’s just a casual hug. But it was strange to her anyway!

“Bye, Sansa. I hope we can meet again,” Fin said before leaving the door.

“Bye, everyone.” She waved goodbye to everyone and walked into the elevator back up to her room.

After a group of four people coming out of that strange woman’s apartment, Cillian couldn’t help but feel happy. He hadn’t had a fun night like this in a long time.

“Oh, damn it! Her smell so good when you hug.” Fin’s voice said suddenly.

“Her skin is soft too,” Joe added.

“I don’t think I’ve ever met anyone as versatile as her. And more than that, she is very beautiful. I can’t stop looking at her. Today’s talk. It was the most fun day In months. I really want her to be in my script,” Steve said, looking thoughtful.

 ‘It’s not just himself who’s happy’ Cillian pondered in his heart. He looked at his screenwriter friend who seemed quite delighted with the young woman.

“I agree with you. She is very beautiful and fun to talk to,” Fin and Joe said.

“I’m starting to like her. I really want to get to know her more… Hey! Cill, you have her business card, can I have it?” Steve asked him.

The forty-six-year-old young actor glanced at his friend’s face.

“What is it, Steve? You can’t even see a pretty girl. She keeps saying that she likes her privacy. If I give you my business card without your permission, how much will her criticize me?”

He is evasive. “You’ll ask her yourself. You go to Mr. Louis’ shop often. You’ll meet her yourself.”

Cillian humorously rejects his screenwriter friend. But in reality, it’s just an excuse! Because he’d rather keep her business card for himself.

“That’s true of you,” Stephen replied. Before everyone walked their separate ways and returned to their respective residences.

[deathsplaything]

Tea and Biscuits || Jonas & Alistair

LOCATION: The Bread Cemetery TIMING: Early January PARTIES: Alistair (@deathsplaything) & Jonas (@thesilentmedium) SUMMARY: Alistair visits the Bread Cemetery for potential business and gets a haunted bagel instead. WARNINGS: None

Paws slipped against the freshly polished floor as Blue chased the cackling bread roll through the front of the bakery. Jonas was quick on her heels, doing his best to avoid bumping into any of the bread he already had stacked for the day but that was proving pointless as his left hip hit another batch of loaves. “Oh please.” He muttered out, not really able to pause and pick it up in his chase of the wayward bagel. This morning had been so peaceful, he was starting to feel a bit more confident on opening the store on his own when Chris was taking the later half of the day to run the bakery. Now he was flustered as one of the bagels he freshly baked sprung to life and began reeking havoc upon his store. 

The baked good rolled under the counter just out of reach of Blue’s angry jaws. Jonas turned to grab a broom when he saw the front doors open. “I am so sorry! The bakery is um closed at the moment!” A little gasp left him as the bagel made a beeline for the door, still laughing. “Close the door!” He didn’t mean to be rude to a customer but the bagel simply could not be allowed to leave. A tsukumogami inhabiting a piece of bread was hardly dangerous but it was better to be safe than sorry in Jonas’ experience, especially when it could still cause inconveniences on others even if it did not harm them directly. 

It had been Melody’s idea to extend the olive branch out to the business known as the Bread Cemetery. As far as names went, Alistair wasn’t sure how good that would be at drawing people in, but seeing as how they were well versed in death themselves, they could appreciate it. As soon as they opened the door to the shop, Alistair’s eyes went wide behind their sunglasses, and quickly slammed the door shut as requested. 

Immediately, Brutus started acting off. “What’s wrong with you?” They asked their dog, who yanked them further toward the haunted bagel that Alistair still had no idea about. Instead of being pulled to the ground, Alistair dropped Brutus’s lead and let the dog join in the other to chase the bagel around the store. “Right.” They spoke, clapping their hands together and staring straight forward. “I need you to paint me a picture of what the bloody hell is going on.” They insisted, hearing the distinct pattering of two sets of paw prints and one set of human footsteps. “I’m Alistair, and I’m quite blind.”

“I um am very sorry you had to come in at this moment, Alistair!” Jonas sounded out of breath as he paused to look at the other. The name seemed familiar, if Jonas wasn’t currently chasing down the spirit he would take a moment to actually think on why that was. “I do not um I am not quite sure how to explain this if I am being honest.” His shoes skid on the wooden floor as he rounded a shelf in the middle of the store. The bagel was trapped between him and two angry dogs or so it seemed. The roll quickly darted through the gaps in the wood and made a beeline for the blind person. 

Jonas was quick to course correct and managed to reach Alistair before the tsukumogami did, causing the prankster to giggle and run away. Jonas took a moment to pause and catch his breath after averting a small disaster. “There is um a well… there is a bagel running loose in my shop. It is haunted.” He was panting and doing his best not to get too close to the older person while still keeping his good eye on their lips. He was getting serious deja vu from all this, though the bagel Regan had dealt with was more talkative than this one and honestly easier to handle. He still felt bad that Blue shoved it in her pocket but it did solve the issue. He wasn’t going to allow that to happen again, however, he doubted the bagel would even keep still enough to shove into someone’s pocket. 

This brief pause that allowed him to  reminisce also allowed him to think about where he had heard the name Alistair before. “Oh! You um run The Sugar Pot. We have talked online before, I am Jonas. I am sorry we did not meet under calmer circumstances.” 

As soon as the words haunted bagel reached Alistair’s ears, they knew they were in for a treat. A slow smile spread across their face at the prospect of haunted baked goods. “Well that just sounds lovely, and explains why Brutus has decided to commune with his ancestors and go absolutely feral for the thing.” Alistair turned their head in the direction of Jonas’s voice and changed their smile from mischievous to friendly. “Do you often deal with haunted pastries?” They found themselves asking, discretely allowing themselves to see through Brutus’s eyes, watching as the dog ran around, desperately trying to catch the bagel with their new friend.

Suddenly, Jonas was right in front of them and panting. “Sneaky bugger’s really giving you a run for your money, isn’t it?” The smile went crooked, and they stuck a hand into their pocket and stuck their hip out. “Well it’s nice to finally meet in person, even if there are sinister bagels being chased by dogs.” Alistair paused, listening to the dogs running around, chasing after the bagel. “Between you and me, I don’t think that bagel’s making it out of here in one piece. Brutus is a fiend for bread. Can’t leave it out on the counter without the beast jumping onto the counter and tearing the bag open.” They pulled a face, then shook their head, displeased. 

“But anyway!” They spoke, trying to change the subject to what they came there for. “Melody’s always trying to be the sensible one of the Sugar Pot business owners and thinks it would be good if we met with you to try to strike up some kind of working relationship with one other. Promote each other’s businesses. I don’t sell pastries, and a lot of people are always asking if we ever would, but I’d rather not have more competition than I already have with the coffee shops in the area.”

“I am happy to say that I um do not.” A hand went to his chest as he willed his heart rate to go down. He wasn’t out of shape by any means but he felt like he’d been chasing that bagel for nearly an hour at this point, “Brutus? What a lovely name.” Jonas looked the smaller dog over as he ran around, admiring the floppy ears. “He does seem to be having fun. I am glad Blue’s size is not off putting for him.” Blue rarely had the chance to make friends with other dogs, she was too busy acting as a guard for her boy, and when she wasn't, people were often too uncomfortable to let her play with their dogs. He didn’t blame them; she could be rather intimidating to those who didn’t know how much of a gentle giant she really was. 

“Blue prefers her dog treats. But um I cannot blame him for liking bread. I have made a living off of it.” Jonas smiled, even if the other couldn’t see it, “It is lovely to meet you as well. I um do hope they are able to handle it. I am in need of a break.” The possessed bagel was no more dangerous than a regular one, even if it was a tad quicker. Jonas was a little glad Alistair couldn’t see his disheveled appearance. He must look terrible after running around and knocking things over. His apron was still covered in flour from this morning’s bake session as well. 

“Oh! Well I um would be happy to accommodate you. I would invite you to the back room to talk properly if it were not for the uh bagel.” Jonas’ words trailed off slightly as said bagel rolled in front of the pair, cackling like a maniac with the two dogs hot on its tracks. Blue went to bite it only to miss by an inch. Really whatever spirit was in that thing must never get tired. “I um would love to supply your store with pastries if that is what you are looking to do,I have a few select pastries that would go lovely with some of your um more seasonal teas.” it was odd to be talking shop while chaos was occurring around you but he supposed this was just how Wicked’s Rest was. If you didn’t learn to roll with the weirdness you’d be stopped in your tracks every five minutes. 

“Your dog huge or something?” Alistair asked, cocking his head to the side. “Size of the dog don’t matter to Brutus, as long as they’re willing to play nice.” they shrugged a shoulder as they crossed their arms across their chest. “I’m not one to judge someone by their size or appearance.” They added, waving a hand in front of their face. “Not like I can exactly see it.” The quirked a half-smile, as if it were a little joke to themselves. 

“Brutus will eat anything he’s told he can eat. Especially if he’s off duty.” Alistair quirked a brow and raised his voice, “which he’s not off duty!” They reminded Brutus, who’s ears went back and immediately heeled to Alistair’s side. “Good boy.” They remarked, patting the top of their head, but heard Brutus lick his chops at the idea of getting a bite out of the bagel. “Laigh sios.” Alistair commanded, and Brutus laid down at their feet. Alistair’s posture seemed to relax as soon as they had their dog under control. They hadn’t brought their mobility cane, so if Brutus wasn’t cooperating, they were in trouble. 

The spellcaster’s face twisted up as they thought about it, then shook their head. “Not sure if I want to deal with a display case, honestly. But I’m sure we could work out some kind of deal where they buy something here, they can get a discount at The Sugar Pot.” Alistair suggested with a lofted brow. For some reason, Alistair wasn’t at all phased by the chaos unfolding around them. It wasn’t the first time something stupid had happened like this, and it certainly wouldn’t be the last, not by a long shot. 

“Oh she is um quite big.” Big was really an understatement when it came to Blue. The dog was only two inches shorter than him, really lending to her status as a bad omen though Jonas never could see her as such. She was too sweet to be a bad omen, if anything she was just an early warning system. How early depended on when she got to you if she bothered to at all. Lately she was content to stay by Jonas’ side, especially after the kidnapping incident. She was practically glued to his hip when, at least when she wasn’t chasing reindeer away from the store. Her rivalry with them seemed to outweigh her desire to keep an eye on her boy. “Perhaps if our um business plan goes well then they will get to see more of each other. Blue is in need of more dog friends, of course when he is um not busy working.” Jonas would never suggest the other let their service dog play with Blue while he was helping the blind person. 

“That sounds like a wonderful idea.” Jonas tucked his hands into his pocket and pulled out a notebook jotting a few things down, “I um… We can always schedule a later date to go over the finer details.” Blue, noticing her new friend was no longer in the action, huffed and trotted over to Jonas complaining the whole way. Jonas shook his head and ruffled Blue’s fur, “It is okay to take a break Blue, we will get it um eventually.” The large dog whined and leaned on her boy eliciting a small ‘oof’ from him. Eventually Jonas settled for wrapping his arms around her neck and writing in his notebook that way.  “Brutus is a very pretty dog.” He commented letting the other person know he hadn’t forgotten about them, “I am um just writing down some ideas for later.” 

The bagel realizing it was being ignored began to circle the small group trying to get their attention. It wasn’t ready to stop having fun and started hopping in front of the dogs. “Oh please it is time to stop now. I um do not mean you, the bagel is… Well being the bagel.” Jonas wasn’t sure how else to really explain what the bread was up to. It’s laugh was starting to die down into frustrated grumbles. 

Alistair nodded their head slowly as Jonas spoke to the size of Blue. “Well there’s always more to a dog than their size, no?” they asked, tilting their head to the side with a lofted brow. “I’m sure she’s great. And between you and me, Brutus could use a friend.” A soft smile broke out across their face, nodding. “Even if our business plan doesn’t prevail, I’m sure the two of them will say that this meeting was a success.” Alistair pointed down to Brutus, who was aggressively wagging his tail at the chance to get to interact with Blue again. They could feel the whacking of their dog’s tail against their shin.

“I would love to not talk business any longer, seeing as how there’s a bagel on the loose.” Alistair wiggled their fingers with wide eyes behind their large lenses. “I think you’ll find that talking with my business partner much easier than with me. She’s the one with the big ideas, I’m just the one that goes along for the ride.” They shrugged a shoulder, a smug look on their face. “Why thank you,” Alistair responded in kind to the compliment for their dog. “He’s a black lab mixed with a Burnese mountain dog. So big and fluffy.” They grinned, patting the whining dog’s head.

A brow lofted in amusement as Jonas told them to stop, and chuckled as Jonas quickly corrected himself. “I think the bagel is not at all being a bagel, dear boy.” Alistair was quick to respond with, amusement laced in their features. “I think I know the answer to our problem.” They spoke, pointing down to Brutus who was all but ready to pounce on the thing again. “Brutus.” They spoke in a commanding tone, which immediately drew the dog’s attention. “Fetch.” They let go of the lead, and Brutus immediately sprung into action. Before the bagel could so much as react, Brutus chomped down on the bagel. The thing screamed as it was torn into pieces, giving Brutus a much deserved snack. “There. Bagel gone.” Alistair exclaimed with a mischievous grin etched onto their face.

“Oh of course they should be friends!” Jonas was more than happy to have Blue gain another friend. The big dog wagged her tail in response to Brutus’s enthusiasm. “We will have to make sure we set up a playdate for them, I am sure they would love to go to the park together.” He tucked the notebook into his pocket and ruffled Blue’s fur. Luna and Auggie were good friends but having one that was a dog would be something special. Or Jonas hoped so, he knew it was special to have a friend that understood the same things you did. 

Lil was always good for that, they knew each other better than anyone else and their shared experiences made it easier to approach her about things. Although he seemed to be doing that less and less these days, perhaps to avoid burdening her with anymore than she already had going on. Jonas knew she wouldn’t mind but he did. He didn’t want her to have to carry everything all of the time and right now Jonas had a lot to unload but he was doing his best not to think about it which made talking a lot harder than normal. As much as he wouldn’t like to admit it, the bagel was probably a good distraction. At least it was. 

Jonas’ hand went to his mouth as the bagel was dealt with swiftly as it had become a problem. “I um.. Well I suppose that takes care of that.” Now that the menace was dealt with he took in the state of the bakery and sighed. It was a mess and anything not packaged would have to be tossed. “I do not um mean to force you out, but I unfortunately have quite the mess to clean up. Oh! Let me uh get my card so your partner can contact me. I would not want you to leave without it.” He shuffled through the scattered rolls of bread and slipped behind the counter. Blue was sitting and waiting, tail wagging and silently praising her new friend for his speedy reaction. Jonas did not take long to return, “Here you are, if you um hold out your hand I can place it there for you.” He didn’t want to just grab a blind man or force something into his hand without permission. As lovely and the older gentlemen seemed to be, he was sure he wouldn’t take kindly to such an intrusion. “I am happy we can work together, and please feel free to come by again once I have had a chance to clean. I will um be much more free then.” 

Part of Alistair wanted to do right by Brutus, who seemed happy to finish the now very dead bagel and agree to a dog playdate. It was very seldom that his dog got to truly be a dog. “Maybe.” He finally said with a half-hearted smile. It was hard to get himself to leave his comfort zone from time to time, and the idea of going somewhere foreign where his dog couldn’t be his guide, it made him a bit worried. “Brutus, thig!” Alistair spoke, which immediately caused Brutus to trot over to his human with a wagging tail, back in work mode the moment that Gaelic was spoken. “I’m sure Brutus would have no qualms with it. I just am…” he sighed, shaking his head despite himself. “I’m just bad at doing things without him as my guide, is all. But he deserves to be a dog and not just a working dog.” He finally decided, giving a genuine smile. 

“If I had working eyes, I’d certainly help you out,” Alistair remarked as he held his hand out, the card swiftly deposited into his grasp. “I’ll be sure to reach out.” He spoke with a nod before heading toward the door. “Sorry about the evil bagel!” He called over his shoulder before walking out of the shop.  As soon as he was outside of the shop, Alistair made a face and looked down at Brutus. “Ye cannae fuckin’ behave yerself fer two fockin’ minutes, can ya?” His Scottish accent came out fully, truly astonished by Brutus’s behavior. “At least y’got the thing.” He decided, then headed on his way towards home, satisfied dog guiding the way with a wag of his tail.

[gynandromorph]

Hi, more Jessie questions (apologies if you got these before, I didn't scroll down to the initial post);

In the sushi comic Emily says Jessie could just go with 'that sushi' and get the sushi she wants, and I'm gonna assume that's true. But does that mean the power is relative, or is it based around Jessie? Let's say Jessie goes to a hardware store, and forgets what specific type of screws she needed to get. If she were to go 'those screws' will the power know what she is referring to, or will the power default to what it thinks she wants? If Jessie plum forgot about the screws and then remembered them in the parking lot, could she go 'get those screws' and have them appear in her bag, or would she have to go back into the hardware store for the power to understand the command? Or would Jessie have the clearance of mind to go 'make me remember what screws to get' and avoid this entire hypothetical?

And;

What happens if someone prays to Jessie? Abrahamic* prayer is really weird, because nobody tells you that a prayer is not a wish. From my own experience (Anglican, non-conformist and high church) people love talking about the impossible power of the thing above you, but not in a way that helps you think about communication with it. I've gotten a lot more out of prayer since following the Gods, because the Gods are, imo, humanities stewards, but both of us are controlled by the fates. Even if the prayer is honoured, fate can invalidate the reason for the prayer, and neither me nor the Gods can do anything about it. But the God is a sustainer, the reason why humanity is, so people treat it like a wish giver. If life goes well for you, than the God answered your wishes, and you pass that along as what prayer is. If the God does not answer your wishes, you did not pray hard enough. Accepting that the old god is not 1:1 the God, I assume prayer works in a similar way to our world. So how does this effect Jessie? Can she hear prayers? If she can, can she turn off the prayers or respond to them? Obviously Jessie is a bastard dirt creature, I love her for it, so can she just chose to fuck with someone by responding to their prayers 'wrong'?

And;

I love how you draw pogs so much. The sushi comic really made me think about it because holy shit, Jessie pog, but it's just something you're really good at drawing! There's a dupe picture from a while back of dupe and I think gray (?) Pogging at each other, and that dupe pog has become my default pog when I think of a pog. Just true Platonic ideal of a pog

Thrilling questions going on here. If I knew more about demonstratives, this would likely be easier to explain, but, if the audience gets it, the power "gets" it - for the most part. In the screw example, if Jessie had mentioned getting screws at the store, retrieving "those screws" after forgetting them would work, because the audience would understand what screws she is talking about. If she tried to refer to "those screws" to remember the screws, or learn what screws she needed, this wouldn't work, because she's trying to reference knowledge she and the story don't have. Similarly, she could invoke retrieving "those screws" for as long as it would register to a competent member of the audience. She could even get the right screws by looking at what she needs the screws for and then invoking "those screws." Another example is "that guy" -- Jessie usually specifies what "guy" she is referring to with a small identifying descriptor, because it won't work in a crowd. She could be referring to many guys. However, with only one other guy around, she could just say "that guy." On top of that, "a guy" can work. "A jogger" can work if there is only one person jogging in the vicinity, etc.

Second question: Jewish prayer actually does structure itself in a way that is like making a request to a king -- it would be rude to walk in and ask for a favor first, so it is sandwiched in between prayers that are only praise. I don't know about other forms of worship, but it is sometimes accounted for in a faith. I never like seeing Judaism lumped in with more general terms if it isn't accurate, so I have to nitpick. It's great that you brought up fate. Fate is

an important concept

in Idletry

which it goes great lengths to explore indirectly.

It is one of the core thematic concepts of the story, and consequently, I need to dance around it to avoid some of the biggest spoilers in Idletry. The way fate is described here, I would simply consider it another God which controls all else except, perhaps, itself. The story takes it a different direction, where I'd say that fate is uncontrollable, but also entirely controlled by the individual. As far as we know, Jessie isn't subject to inevitabilities such as fate. Tangents aside, the "prayers delivered through Twiddler arguments" bit is actual canon, so Jessie needs to be bored enough to check her Twiddler feed to even notice prayers. She listens to them directly at first, and quickly decides that is very overwhelming AND boring -- the Twiddler decree is not only for entertainment, but to force prayer to be easily turned on and off (for Jessie). She can also respond to them directly (on Twiddler, usually). She can and absolutely has fucked with people just because she didn't like what they prayed for, how they conveyed what they want, or I even have a joke where she responds to someone's prayer saying she won't help them because they don't have pronouns in bio. The snowglobe guy specifically argued with Jessie on Twiddler because she wouldn't acknowledge a particular prayer. The religious organization that springs up to worship her initially spends most of its time reviewing and refining the prayer formats of its congregants; it entices more people to join because wishes they post on Twiddler tend to be granted (or at least taken well). Am considering having them more involved in the handling of prayer later on, but there may simply not be enough time in the plot in between their introduction and Jessie going bitchcakes.

this pog takes up 50% of my language processing.

[scorpiongrassfield]

Conspiracy Board Time 

Start | Prev

Concrete enters the room and roams around, eventually settling near Pat’s feet as they enjoy their second cup of coffee for the day. 

Once Pat is satisfied that you and Theo have eaten enough, they set their cup down on the side table and say, “Okay, now we can get to work.” 

Theo stands to collect everyone’s trash and takes it into the kitchen for disposal. 

“What will we be doing, exactly?” he asks when he returns. 

“We’re gonna make a murder board,” Pat says, gesturing to the cork board. 

“Oh… has someone been killed?” Theo asks, not matching Pat’s enthusiasm. 

You can see realization dawn on Pat’s face. If you had to guess you’d think they were reassessing whether or not it’s appropriate to call it a murder board while talking to an actual murder victim. 

“Uh. No. I guess no one else has been killed as far as we know,” they say eventually. 

“Ah. Okay then,” Theo says. 

“Anyway!” Pat sing-songs in a manner that implies they want to move on without addressing anything that just happened, “We brought the board, pins, yarn, and a bunch of stuff to pin up. We were hoping you could help us piece everything together.” 

Theo hesitates. “I’m not sure how much help I’ll be, but I’ll try my best,” he says after a few beats. 

“That’s the spirit,” Pat says cheerfully. 

They move to start getting the materials out of the bag and onto the coffee table. Concrete steals their seat in the meantime. 

You help by spreading out some of the drawings and cards out so they’re easier to look through. 

“What mystery are we solving, again?” Theo asks as he stoops a bit to read the cards. 

“The sun is missing,” you say. 

“We’ve seen it a few times, it isn’t completely missing,” Pat corrects. 

“That’s… not reassuring,” Theo says, brow furrowed. 

“Plus our mystery is really like 8 stacked in trench coats like gnomes on a dinner date,” Pat says. 

Theo looks more confused than ever. 

“Our overall question for our mystery board is ‘What’s Going On’,” Pat says, pausing to pin a card with each of those three words up on the board. 

“That's not very specific,” you chime in. 

“It’s not! But it covers all our bases for now. We can get more specific if we have any more questions after we answer this one,” Pat explains. 

“First let’s get our dramatis personae up,” Pat says. 

You find the drawings you made last night and tear them from the sketchbook. 

Pat pins up a portrait they drew once you’ve gotten yours on the board. 

Ametrine stares out from the page, sadder than you’ve ever seen her. Pat’s drawing style favors bold lines and heavy shadows. 

“She’s not wearing sunglasses,” you note. 

“No? She doesn’t really wear them,” Pat says, sounding perplexed. 

“She’s always wearing them when I see her,” you counter. 

“Huh…” Pat takes a card and writes something down on it. 

“There’s no picture of you?” Theo asks, looking your way. 

You drew Theo, Pat, and the shadow, and Pat drew Ametrine… Theo is right. There isn’t one for you. 

“Uh… No. Guess we forgot.” 

“May I?” Theo asks, gesturing for the sketchbook. 

“Sure,” you say, offering it to him. 

He thanks you and settles back down into a chair to start drawing. He looks up every now and again, scanning your features before returning to the task. 

You aren’t sure how you feel about having your portrait drawn like this, but you did just agree to it, so you won’t back out now. 

“Now we connect everyone with yarn. Pink is for a connection to me, obviously. Black for you Sylv, we’ll put your portrait here when Theo’s done. T-Ametrine gets yellow…” 

“Why do you do that?” you ask. “Do What?” 

“You trip over Ametrine’s name often enough to be noticeable,” Theo chimes in. 

Pat huffs a laugh. “Can’t get anything past you two, can I?” 

They don’t elaborate. 

“Well?” you prompt. 

“I’m thinking. It’s not like it’s a big secret or her dead name or anything. It’s just. We used to be… close… Me and Ametrine. I used to call her Trina. Now we aren’t close. The habit remains. You two don’t know her by that name, so I’m trying to just call her by the one. That’s all,” they say. 

“How close were you?” you prod. 

“That’s none of your business,” Pat says. 

You give them a look. 

“Close enough that we were planning to run away together at some point. We didn’t though. She wasn’t… no, she couldn’t give up on what she thought was right, and I have a different idea of what’s right, so we went separate ways,” they say. 

“Thank you,” you say. 

Pat mutters something under their breath, but you don’t catch it. You’ll let them be grumpy as long as they give you the information you want. 

“Who is she, though? How is she relevant to,” Theo gestures to the board with his pencil, “That?” 

“Not you too,” Pat complains. 

“We can’t make a conspiracy board if we don’t have any information,” you point out. 

“It’s true,” Theo agrees. 

“Oh this whole trip was a bad idea,” Pat whines, but you can tell they’re playing it up for laughs. 

“No dodging the question,” Theo says without looking up from the portrait. 

Pat laughs. “Absolutely relentless…” they shake their head. “Ametrine is an exorcist and psychic. She’s… Not fond of ghosts and will do just about anything to get rid of them, including murder,” Pat explains. 

“Oh, I see. I should perhaps steer clear of her then,” Theo says. 

“Yeah. She’s got it out for Sylv here,” Pat says, connecting Ametrine’s portrait to your space with black and yellow yarn.

“And we thought she was after him because of this guy.” They connect the shadow to you. 

“How are you two connected?” 

“Actually, I think the shadow might be more connected to Pat than me,” you say. 

“What makes you say that?” Pat asks head cocked to the side. 

“Last time I talked to it, it mentioned that you were the one that asked it to protect me, but that you’d forgotten you’d done so,”  you explain. 

“And you’re just telling me this now?” 

You shrug. You can’t tell them everything about that conversation anyway, and it never really came up. 

Pat gives you a look, but says. “Okay, well. We’re gonna put a pin in that for now.” 

They write down “The shadow allegedly knows Pat” on a piece of paper and pin it on the board. 

“The shadow is currently playing guardian for you, though its true motives are unknown,” Pat says firmly. 

Well, you can argue about that later. 

“How am I connected to all of this?” Theo asks. 

“We were hired to investigate your... situation,” Pat says. 

“Why?” 

“It’s complicated,” Pat says, trying to sidestep the question. 

“Oh. Okay,” Theo accepts. 

Pat is clearly trying not to remind Theo that his own parents covered up his death. 

“So our only connection to you that we know of is that we’re psychics and you’re a ghost,” you say. 

Except… 

“But you’re also connected to the shadow somehow,” you add. 

Theo’s face scrunches in confusion. “How?” 

“Are you sure you want to tell him?” Pat asks, their face expressing disapproval. 

Theo has a right to know that he might have been possessed. But on the other hand it might scare him and there’s nothing he can do to avoid future possessions. 

Will you tell him?

Next

[imeverywoman420]

okkkkk so as a STEM girlie who's been a tutor on the side and TA I think/hope I can explain the issue with math. (this is @andsheoverthinks btw but that's my sideblog so i can't submit asks from there)

(1) math is one of those subjects where you have to understand everything along the way

(2) math requires more abstract thinking than every other subject. spatial intelligence is usually also important for stuff like trig and geometry and everything thereafter

i learned when i was tutoring second/third graders that getting people to think abstractly is difficult. if i asked kids to add say, 17+9 they would count on their fingers to get the answer. this would always yield the correct answer but it is inefficient for obvious reasons. i had to skip ahead to explain hundred's, ten's, and one's places to wean them off it.

(3) it is genuinely hard to help someone bad at math because of (1), you don't know how far back the confusion goes. it might be the first grade

(4) people will come up with an inefficient way of getting the answer, which is the Wrong (TM) way and it comes back to bite them in the ass with harder problems. a lot of times people develop weird/bad habits and refuse to change

i also tutored an eighth grader learning algebra. she was learning systems of equations. there are two ways to solve a system, geometric (which is just for illustration purposes and really shouldn't even be taught) or algebraic. this kid would always 'solve' systems the geometric way and always get the wrong answer because it's hard to draw lines straight. i tried to convince her to do it the algebraic way which is easier and doesn't hinge on drawing perfect lines freehand. it took a really long time because she would always go back to the geometric/drawing way even though it would always be wrong.

(5) it's genuinely frustrating to teach people bad at math because grade-school math is 'algorithmic' aka procedural. you just memorize how to do it and then do it.

for example you posted an example of SOH CAH TOA and i am genuinely confused why it's hard to understand (not trying to be a dick). if someone asked me to explain it i'd literally just read out what's on the picture because they're definitions. like. the sine of an angle is equal to the ratio between the length of the side opposite the angle and the length of the hypotenuse (side opposite the right angle). idk how else to explain it more clearly. it's not rocket science i promise.

Thank younforntjis responsee its really. Enlightening.

Ok my confusion with that last part would love tonhear back

what the hell is a sine of an angle? How can a sine of an angle be equal to the rationo whatever. What does that mean. Its just a triangle. Why would anyone need to know that.

like what is the purpose in a sine. What even is that.

And its just. So many letters and shit??? What do the colors mean. How can you understand this its so many colors and letters and things with no words its just hierogylpsh

like WHATT IS THISSSSS HUHHH. WHAT IS A SOH CA TOAH??? Like. Whatttt.

[doctor-orbagels]

How I Draw With Borderline Aphantasia

~Preamble~ 

Hi! I’m Dr.Orbagels, and even though I have been drawing for most of my life, my brain is a near black void where any images are very hard to make out. This is a condition I would come to know much later as Aphantasia. As you might guess, this was extremely difficult to work with for a very long time. Anyone with similar experiences can relate to needing piles upon piles of references, doing fan art when you felt like you were incapable of something wholly original, and a whole heaping helping of imposter syndrome. So, here I’ll detail my own experience overcoming this massive hurdle in the hopes that it will help others who are having the same struggles!

Important Note:

I am not claiming to speak for everyone who has Aphantasia, nor will my methods work for everyone. As I will get into later, even though i absolutely do have this issue on some level, my case is not nearly as bad as some have it. These are more or less oddly specific tips from someone with an oddly specific condition. 

Also, I’m not necessarily the best or most technically proficient artist out there, but I’ve come a long way. 

~why “borderline” and what my condition is like~

I think the easiest way to get across how I think is through the most common example of what level of Aphantasia you have:

When you think of an apple, what do you see?

Well, if I were to answer this, it would be something along these lines

Yes, I can see some level of silhouette and almost get a complete image, but it feels like the smaller details and overall outline are very hard to see when thinking of the full picture. However, things become clearer the more I focus on certain parts over others, sort of “zooming in” on what I’m thinking about. 

~what I did about it~

This is the main reason I am bothering to post anything about this at all: it took me nearly 15 years of trial and error and struggle after struggle to figure out what I’m doing, and I can’t help but feel that if I was able to just tell past me how I did it, I would have progressed so much faster. 

Anyways, first off is even starting a drawing in the first place. I don’t know how relatable this is, but things like anatomy skeletons just do not make sense to me when you can’t really make out the entire image in the first place. So, I much prefer to just zoom in on the image in my head, so to speak, and start with the line that is the most clear. This line is often either towards the top of the image, the part most in the foreground, or whatever feature is most prominent. To use the previous apple example, I’d probably start here: 

From there, it’s easier to work your way downwards as you go. 

And then start working on where certain details will go

Admittedly, i don’t really specialize in super detailed/realistic shading and rendering and I am completely self taught, so I don’t really have a choice other than to concede that my ability to explain my process kinda ends here. However, I found that tumblr is an amazing place for art tutorials and just getting this far is enough to get the whole train going.

Here’s the part that’s much more difficult to swallow:

The only was I was able to develop this method was from YEARS of freehand copies (i.e. replicating the works of other people as closely as I could). No, this doesn’t mean literally trace other people’s art, nor does it mean that you should even post your freehand copies or hype yourself up for doing them. Freehand copies should be purely for practicing techniques and exploring your art style. Nothing more, nothing less. However, again, this was just how I was able to make things work for myself and eventually do things that were original. 

~conclusion and more disclaimers~

This does not mean that I have negated my need for references entirely, nor did it mean I felt the need to abandon making fan art. This method just made it so I was able to make anything original at all. If this makes sense to literally even a single person like me, then I’ve justified posting this. 

Finally, I need to reiterate that I am NOT the best artist in the world, nor the most technically skilled. I just know what I know and I’m still getting better.

Here’s some of my most recent art that I’m most proud of. Two finished pieces (Pumpkin Rabbit, being my first digital drawing ever, and the monster with 4 left hands I have named “Windmill”), two WIPs (the MC of a story I’m making and fan art of an old creepypasta i loved as a kid), with two being originals and two being fan art. 

[kpg-1126]

9, 13, and 33 for the writer asks pretty please, when you have the time 👀

Please, let me over-explain:

9. Do you believe in ghosts? This isn’t about writing I just wanna know

Hmm, okay:

I think some kind of spirit or essence of something that is gone seems plausible, even if it's not in a way we currently understand via "science." I say "science" in quotes because science is a process and not just a body of knowledge about natural phenomena and don't get me started on the philosophy of science because it is so interesting,  but I only know enough to be sure I'd get something wrong if I start talking about it.

Aaaaanyway, if you think of all the things that are possible technologically that would have just seemed like *magic* a hundred years ago or more, or all the things we can explain now that were once a mystery (like viral diseases, even) because we had no way to "see" them, finding out ghosts have some "scientific" explanation doesn't seem all that far-fetched. This reminds me of Lost and Wanted again, which is a novel about science and ghosts, more or less. (It doesn't answer the question of whether science can prove the existence of ghosts...but I doubt you thought it did.)

So . . . if someone tells me a house is haunted, you bet I'm on edge and peeking behind curtains and such, so clearly I haven't ruled ghosts out. Do I tell everyone I believe in ghosts? No, not really. I'm a skeptic. But skeptic doesn't mean non-believer.

Also, on an interesting note, my immediate family all *definitely* believes in ghosts and can tell you times when they've seen them / experienced them. I don't think they've made these stories up. What were they actually experiencing? No idea. Maybe ghosts.

13. What is a subject matter that is incredibly difficult for you to write about? What is easy?

"Subject matter" is an interesting category for this question, because although I will try to answer that way, it's not generally subject matter that makes something difficult or easy for me. So I'm going to answer this two different ways, because I feel like it. Also I got another ask with this, so I may elaborate further.

Incredibly difficult - I would have a difficult time writing really gory violence or really explicit sex based on a certain level of "do I want people realizing I had *that* thought?" and also because I have a really prudish mental block, so I can't even put things on paper unless I were to *really try.* Mostly, though, words come out of my head pretty easily when I'm on a roll (whether they are the words I'm actually looking for is another matter), regardless of the actual subject matter. My mind does think of certain subjects more easily than others, but if someone were to give me a prompt and say "write about ____, go!" I could probably do it (quality would vary but that wasn't the question--or not the one I'm answering right now).

Easy - nothing is "easy," but I can write mundane dialogue about any given topic on and on forever and eventually stumble upon something funny, or at least funny to me, so that's easy-ish. I write all my dialogue first, almost as a rule, because it comes easier than physical description. That's why I just write a lot of people talking in rooms doing simple things (🤫🫣). In other words, I was intended to write multi-cam sitcom material (kinda joking).  Show me a picture and tell me to describe the scenery--that's going to be tougher. So I find internal things (thoughts, words, feelings, even bodily reactions) easier to express than external things (physical surroundings, the way other people appear, etc).

33. Do you practice any other art besides writing? Does that art ever tie into your writing, or is it entirely separate?

Short answer - no, not really.

Longer, unnecessary answer:

Writing is my art of choice.  I have an older brother who has always been a very talented visual artist (like painting, drawing, etc) from a young age, and because that was *his* thing, I mostly stayed away from it because I wasn't as good (I also wasn't particularly inclined to it - see above re: external reality), but I made writing *my* thing. I have liked writing and have pretended I'm secretly a writer since I was 6 or 7. (Basically since I could write sentences coherently--although that may still be arguable.)

I like music but I played a lot of sports growing up and opted out of playing an instrument (except I got really into playing the recorder when I was 10 until it annoyed everyone in the house. Oh, and I bought myself a guitar when I was 14 so I could be a brooding folk singer, but as it turns out I didn’t want to be one that badly and I'm not sufficiently deep or broody - I'm more "easily amused and analytical"). Hmm, other art fails - I went to dance class once when I was maybe 4 or 5 but I got upset about being corrected on my baton twirling form (was it a majorette class? who knows...) and cried and they asked me not to come back. That story was pretty specific because I remember criticism forever. 🫥 This is all to say that I would probably have done more art but I had a need to be good at everything I did all the time and art isn't like that. I'm better about failing at things now, but now I barely have time to do the writing thing (I make time because I enjoy it enough that I'm willing to get a little less sleep sometimes in order to do it).

Anyway, I just really like words--reading them,  writing them. That's my art thing.  I like other art, but I don't create it.

[thepandalion]

So as I might have mentioned I’ve been reading Homestuck for the first time

(Rant under the cut, you know the drill)

So! A lot has happened since I last uploaded art. Including, but not limited to:

- My computer deciding not to open any website that isn’t owned by Google

- I bought myself Clip Studio when they did their December holidays sale

- Taught myself to draw in a chibi/chibi-adjecent art style and now I can’t stop. It’s so simplified compared to how I used to draw look at it. Its so soft and untextured and I can just make blobby hands and feet and it works??

- After an entire week, finally fixed my computer (it just wanted an upgrade to Windows 11)

So, yeah, been a while. I’m actually working on a project for my MCYT sideblog wherein I draw all the Hermits as per my AU, the Sunbringer. I’m currently.. halfway through. It’s been a week.

Hhh.

Well, now onto actual details, starting with the fact that CSP makes it much easier to save transparent PNGs (Krita was fine, too, but it was slightly less intuitive, at least for me- I figured out how to do it on the first try- though maybe that also has to do with the fact I now have actual art experience meanwhile Krita was my second ever program, and while I’m certain the first one was fine it did not have that feature specifically... or at least I wasn’t aware I could look for it. Idk, it’s been like 4-5 years since I last used that program, I can’t even recall its name). What I’m saying is that the version above is transparent, while my new profile picture is the one with a background! And it’s space!

Anyways, figured out I really like giving characters with large, round glasses small, simple eyes, that are just colorful eggs.

So, as I mentioned, this is Homestuck stuff- apparently my last try was the wrong class, but not the wrong aspect; I’m actually a Mage of Mind. The one server I’m on where I talk Homestuck had me accidentally rant for paragraphs upon paragraphs (like I’m doing now... haha) about another person’s classpect and why their explanation for why it won’t fit them is actually the entire reason it should fit, actually.

It was a discussion on why classpects are infuriatingly confusing, so of course that “short” explanation I provided immediately cleared the issue for me, since a Mage of Mind is one who understands choice, consequence, and thoughts. So, understanding the minds of fictional characters to the point where I mimic mannerisms subconsciously, as well as understanding someone I had at most two conversations with prior... Yeah, fair enough.

That’s my invitation to anyone who’s interested to ask me to explain the personalities for various classpects, if you’re willing to read this much text (and, let’s face it, if you’re reading this, you’re probably fine with the length I write in).

Ok, final notes!

I almost gave the boots little wings- sorta like Hermes’ shoes? Because flight is my theme. I literally have never drawn myself without my signature wings- except when I was 3 and my “self portrait” was a bright-crayon drawing of a luna moth (well, it was bright pink, but it was a butterfly with crescent-patterned wings), and even then it was all about the flight. Always. It’s a part of who I am more than pretty much any other part of me.

... Now onto lighter stuff, the title of the book Mini-me is reading is “Mage’s Guide to Reading More Books”. Specifically because I thought a book on reading books is a silly (yet loveable) concept.

[sealpup9]

Apparently part of this has to do with not just executive dysfunction, but something called Aphantasia, or the inability to visualize in your mind. So like, seeing black when you try to think about stuff.

Heres a fantastic thread about it.

The example they give is how when someone goes to make a PBJ sandwich, they know what thd sandwich looks like, they can visualize it, and then work backwards.

Someone with aphantasia can't visualize what "done" looks like when it comes to a task.

Another example they gave is how their child struggles to get ready for school in the morning because he can't visualize what "ready" is. To help, they printed a picture of him ready for school so he could visualize it, and it helped immensely.

When it comes to this, you could ask the question "How can someone be expected to prepare when they don't know what a finished product will look like?" Well, exactly.

If you can't visualize what a project looks like when it's done and have no examples, you just have a table full of tools and materials and no end goal!

It also explains certain things from a social aspect! If you can't visualize something like a birthday party, that might make you anxious because what will the party be like/feel like/where will it be?

The following thoughts are just my experience, but:

I wonder if this is part of why habit making is so difficult. You can't visualize it. You're blind to it. But I think this is also why habit forming is SO IMPORTANT. Going to the same location over and over again makes it easier for you to remember what things were like. So it's no longer "visualizing the future" and instead it's "remembering how things were." I feel like I try to rely on my past experiences to figure out the future more than i try to visualize the future itself based on just yknow. Being told something exists or being given a box of supplies and told to craft something.

Maybe this is why i love jigsaw puzzles so much. I don't have to visualize it, the image im making is right there, and i take comfort in completing it at my own pace.

Ofc, relying on past memories poses a whole nother issue with time-blindness- you might remember a location differently and it might freak you out. (Or suddenly something about an app you go on daily Changes™ and you have a panic about it).

I think the reason we're visual learners is because we are physically incapable of consciously visualizing outcomes. Whether its a situation or physical object or unit of measurement.

Another side note: I think this is why I took to art so well. For me, its more about process than the end-goal. But being in art classes taught me to do thumbnail sketches and force myself to make my own image to work off of and that is so useful.

Some tips for folks who are in my boat, aphantasia and ADHD and Exec. Dysfunction:

-don't just make a list, put it somewhere it will bother you or you will forget. Change the location slightly of the list if you need to, so it looks out of place when you walk in a room and you're drawn to it. Also, if it helps, make a list of your things to do tomorrow and leave it somewhere you will find it in the morning! (Like on top of your laptop, on the fridge, etc.) Maybe draw a picture if you want. Something to make it different and stand out and not just fade into the Everything Else™ like those unwashed hand-wash only mugs that are sitting in your sink right now.

-Try to force yourself to make habits. Even if it starts with 'when i remember'. You will feel good about it, honestly. And then when things like brushing teeth become habits you can put energy into other things!! Incentivize it! Give yourself a little treat if you do it!! But only if you do it!! You can do it!!

-Take pictures!! I mean it. Take pictures of the sky, of documents you need to remember of phone numbers of drawings of animals of anything. Save that art you love on tumblr, bookmark those fanfics. Just save things. Its helped me immensely. The other day I realized I didn't have a current photo of my ID so instead of stressing I just went and took it immediately and now i just have it for if i need it. I love the photos app on my phone.

-Set alarms. I know. I KNOW im the kind of person who will set alarms and then ignore them. Change the ringtone often if you have to!! Hold yourself accountable for the 1:50am alarm that says 'please for the love of god go to bed' because when you turn it off suddenly it will be 4am and you'll be on tumblr typing up a really long response on a topic you're extremely passionate about

-Find and use The Passion!!!! If you're like me and you get hyperfixated on things? Use that as a means to get things done! Imagine your blorbo cooking or doing dishes! Put music on while you do chores!!!! Its like that one post, Naruto Believes In You!

-I'm so serious about this one and its so important im making it into its own category: Make a nightly routine. You can fall into the rhythm of just doing your nightly routine and it will be mindless. For example my routine is Turn off Computer, Unplug Computer, Put Headphones down, turn off mouse, turn off large lamp, take medication, turn off small lamp, go to bathroom, wash hands, brush teeth, check on front door locks, come to bed, take melatonin. And you can add one or two things in between if you need, like im using a humidifier in my bedroom so i make sure its filled up when I come into the bedroom after brushing my teeth! Be flexible with it but not too flexible. Like if you take your meds after using the bathroom its totally ok you still got it done and Im proud of you.

-This one is something I seriously need to do more but: wake up early every so often. Just to reset your messed up sleep schedule. Just. Push yourself up, make some waffles or pancakes or something. Make tea for your significant other. (Make it about love, man.)

If you're someone who lives with/supports someone who struggles with this kindof thing, maybe talk to them about if it's difficult to visualize the end goal. I was so surprised to see someone put this into words that i was solid crying for a bit while typing this.

At the end of the day, reading into all of this has made me feel a lot less dumb! I hope this helps some people like it did me. :)

A lot of us with ADHD are familiar with the concept of time blindness, but for anyone who isn't: it's a neurological inability to have a consistent sense of the passage of time. If you put me in an empty room, gave me a button and told me to press it when I think it's been 15 minutes, I might press it after..... idk, anywhere between 3 minutes and 2 hours? And if we repeated it the next day the result would probably be wildly different!

But something I've only seen mentioned in one (1) Reddit post, which took some extensive digging to find, is the same effect extending to ALL things measured in numbers. Distance, weight, length, height, amount, space, volume, percentage... For me, small numbers are a bit easier, I could approximate a centimetre probably, but a metre would be much harder and 10 or 100 would likely miss the mark by a lot. Also, anything that can't be easily measured with a ruler or a measuring tape (like weight or volume) is even harder since I don't encounter reference points (like a 1kg hand weight) for those as frequently as I see visual representations of specific lengths.

It's not dyscalculia or anything like that, I'm decent at math (and the OP of the Reddit post was a math major) and I have no other difficulties with numbers, it's just a disconnect in translating real life experiences like sensory input into numbers (and possibly also inconsistent processing of sensory input? Like how the same sound volume is okay one day but hurts my ears the next?), which I think is basically the same thing as what happens with time blindness. For now I've been calling it "measurement blindness" since I've never seen a name for it anywhere, but maybe "quantity blindness" could also work?

I've talked to other people with time blindness to see if they experience this too, but so far none of them have known what I'm talking about. I'd really like to know how many of us are out there and if anyone knows literally anything actually scientific about this very inconvenient phenomenon!

Tl;dr: bc I am wordy:

It's like time blindness but for all things measured in numbers

Not dyscalculia or caused by it

Pretty much never seen it talked about anywhere

Please tell me if it sounds familiar and/or you know something about it, thank

[lizzielikeborden]

can you please make a sparrow ben hargreeves imagine a fluff if that’s okay :)

2.3k words

“God, do you have to be so annoying!” Ben waltzed his way around the furniture in the room picking the chair nearest the couch you were sitting on. 

Scoffing and rolling your eyes, you just ignored him. He had been doing this all week, the annoying, obnoxious, and negatively talkative towards you act was getting really old. You had tried everything, being nice, throwing the same energy back at him, and acting like it hurt your feelings but none of those had worked. If there was one thing you could call Ben that could possibly be considered kind it was persistent. 

“Excuse me, did you just roll your eyes?” Leaning forward out of his chair he put his elbows on the armrest, his forearms didn’t touch the chair, but his hands linked with one another as he sneered in your direction as if you had done anything other than mind your own business only to be insulted. 

“You’re looking right at me, you saw me do it, that’s a really stupid question.” You didn’t even look at him as you talked, rather you focused on the task at hand: relaxing. You had decided to just take a nap, that’s all you wanted to do. Your pillow at the end of the couch facing Ben’s chair, you already had your blanket on your body since the house was frigid. 

“Do you always have a bitchy attitude?” Getting comfortable on the couch you still paid him no mind, but you could hear the condescending tone in his voice getting stronger, even though he had no right or reason for his behavior. It was easier to just close the eyes and lay down. 

“I didn’t know you had a mirror over there.” Sighing into the comfort of your pillow you got into a comfortable position hearing  Ben scoff. 

“What did you just say to me?” You had told yourself you were gonna ignore his never ending presence, in fact that’s what you had told yourself all day long up until this point. But it was just so hard to not get involved in his banter. 

“Did you not understand the comment or did you not hear it? So either your subpar physically or mentally you pick.” Digging at his ego would almost always get him to fuck off, even though it was the meanest way to strike at him it usually got him riled up enough to not wanna be around you. 

“Is this how you treated other Ben?” And suddenly your closed eyes became wide ones, the only thought in your head was “what the fuck did he just say.” 

2 times. 2 entire times you had someone extremely close to you die, once in front of your eyes, and once from the echoes of other voices explaining the situation. Neither of which were under normal circumstances but both stung just the same, the shock was like accidentally touching a pan that just came from the oven bare handed, then not being able to take in air afterwards. Like touching a hot pan quickly the scar stayed mostly internal, more  fearful and careful of what you were doing remembering what happens when you don’t do those things. But why was he digging all of that back up? Did he know what he was doing or was it just a coincidence that his dickheadedness had finally struck the wrong bundle of nerves. 

The nightmares were the worst part, but could you even call them nightmares? Memories of your Ben. Of trying to teach each other to slow dance because you saw it in a movie you weren’t allowed to watch, but somehow managed without getting busted. Of reading in a book, each of you getting a character and sharing space to read the lines of your characters back and forth. Of playing tic-tac-toe on a handmade board the two of you constructed so you wouldn’t get caught with the papers covered in them. Of drawing back and forth on the same picture until it was done and then hiding them. Of the late night talks when neither of you could sleep, whether that be out of fear from a threat Reginald made earlier, actual nightmares, or just pure energy. Especially the way Ben’s words would always be that of intelligence and to lighten the mood you’d point at a blinking plane and call it a moving party planet, then ask him what he would do if he could jump up there and be on that planet. Of watching your siblings argue and or fight, then taking bets on who would win with specifics. Of watching them talk to one another and adlib what they were saying. Of sharing a seat next to his no matter what you were doing. Of hiding in each other's rooms when that dark looming cloud of an angry old man rushed down the hallway, holding each other taking deep breaths in sharing air knowing that it would all need to be held the moment that dark cloud struck. Of Klaus always making eyes and assumptions on your relationship with one another that was dead silent, not even noticeable enough to blow out a candle. 

You would think that your brain would notice that these dreams gave you nothing but negative emotions. The crying, the screaming, the internal anger that couldn’t be resolved, and the silence that held you captive. But every night you got a peaceful night of sleep where there were no other concerns. That's where your mind went instantly. As much as you blamed the others for certain aspects of Ben’s passings that wouldn’t bring him back, but neither would the constant reminders that you loved him and never once got a real chance to tell him. There was no way in hell you were gonna tell this asshole how everything used to be. God no, what would he even do? Just laugh, make fun of it, bring it up as a weapon to use against you in verbal disputes. 

 The house had always divided into little groups, like sibling pods of who was more like family than others to each other. Then others of you were friends but not like siblings, and then there was the oddity, you and Ben. You weren’t at all in a sibling pod, you were always friends but the older you got the more it became prominent that wasn’t the direction you were supposed to take. But now he wasn’t even in the Umbrella Academy he was with an entirely different group of siblings, raised by the same rude ass old man. That really struck deep, that Reginald could get your Ben taken away from you then have another chance with Ben and turn him into someone insufferable. 

Thanks to Reginald neither of you had ever heard someone genuinely tell someone else “I love you.” No, not the way it was meant anyway. So, you opted not to say it, every swallow of spit when the air was hot because with the letters falling out of your throat onto your tongue stung. In fact you were allergic to them the way they made your throat tighten ever so slightly. Had anyone, just one person in your physical life had said to literally anyone “I love you” and meant it the two of you would’ve had no excuses at all. One of you would’ve said it before, well before Ben died the first time.  

The second time you hadn’t been there, you had been busy helping the other half of everyone figure things out, you had missed him. Even though these weren’t your powers by any means it almost felt like when he was truly dead in sacrifice of Viktor you felt him go. Nausea struck you and so did the feeling of crying. No not crying, falling to your knees and balling. But you didn’t, not until the others explained the circumstances you were alone. No one knew a damn thing about what the two of you had, except Klaus who was too fucked up in his own right to come and check on you. But just like the first time you had to push through and move along. 

You thought that losing him was hard? No. What was hard was getting him back physically but missing him in every single goddamn way possible. They could’ve been somewhat similar but you refused to see any of it. 

“You wish I talked to you the same way I talked to other Ben.” Swallowing your feelings you gritted your teeth and spit the fire right back at him, he wasn’t about to just bring that up and then pretend like it was okay or right by any means. 

“Why is that?” You could’ve sworn he was being genuine or at least as close to genuine as was physically possible for him. Which by nature made you roll over onto your back and out of being in a comfortable position because whatever he just did took you out of a comfortable position by all means. 

“No, you know what, it doesn’t matter because he’s dead. There’s nothing I can do about that and you don’t need anymore ammunition to fire at me.” Tears, not tears, at least you didn’t want them to crawl out from your eyes but they were burning in the ducts waiting for you to miss a blink. 

“Do you really think that low of me?” Your brain was screaming at you that this had to be a trick, that you needed to get up and run the hell away from him. But you couldn't. He had found your venom and gave you just enough to paralyze you. 

“You know what I think of you? I think you’re mean, I think you’re nasty, I think your attitude problem has a lot to do with your daddy issues and the fact that someone basically forced you to be a walking second place metal. I think that you like to fight with me because the universe hates me and absolutely loves to see me suffer. And before you say anything mean like “you’re not that important to the universe” I know that okay? I would just rather blame anything else but you for your own actions because you look just like him. And I cannot stomach the idea of blaming anything on him.” Word vomit, way too much of it. There was no getting out of it now, he was going to hang this over your head for the rest of however long you were gonna know each other. 

“You are a headache, you showed up and started being nice to me even after I spoke to your siblings in a way I’m sure you didn’t like.  You continued to show me kindness no matter how mean I was to you. Then you started being a bitch, then you started getting sad. You went in circles around me and I never changed. Yet everytime I come around you’ll talk to me no matter what I say. I could scream at you and even then if hours later I spoke to you you would respond. Do you know how hard it is to be mean to someone you feel you can actually talk to?” He stood up, you could hear him standing up and it sent a panic through your body, you didn’t have a single idea how to take the comment he had just made. 

“Even worse, I was drinking a bit and your idiot brother Klaus went on a rant about how hard this must be for you. How close you were to the other Ben.” Klaus. It was always Klaus. You wished your peripheral vision would just give out because you could see him sitting on the table directly in front of you. You just couldn’t turn your head knowing he wasn’t sneering at you. He was actually looking at you and it was like Ben had come back to life and that’s the last delusion you needed to have. 

“I’m sorry, you win, Klaus is an idiot, you’re right, I won’t fight with you anymore, I’ll get them to stop fighting with you, I’ll get them to stop talking to you. Whatever you want me to do, whatever you want me to say to get this over with I will say it, I will do it, just leave me alone. I know you don’t care, but I can’t handle having him hung over my head.” There were the tears, but why not? You had just given in, admitted defeat, told him everything you assumed he would love to hear, and offered him anything he could ever want. 

“No.” Ben just shook his head, stayed seated. 

“What do you mean no?” You mimicked his voice in the best way you could. 

“I’m not gonna leave you alone, you haven’t left me alone, apparently you have never once left me alone until I died. I’m not a monster by the way, I won’t hold my death over your head.” Ben was staring bullets into your head. Waiting for you to respond to that, wondering how many times he was going to have to explain himself and rephrase what he had said. Just this once he was being dead serious, not sarcastic, not with an evil ulterior motive. 

“If this is all a sick joke, I don’t wanna hear it. It’s not funny.” You were more than serious, this was the last thing you needed to be thrown at you. But then something touched your arm, gently, awkwardly, kindly. Ben’s hand. It was on your bicep. 

“I’m not making a joke, I want to start over.” It was almost like he was saying words that he was being forced to say, in his defense he was forcing himself to say them. He had planned this conversation in his head. At least a little bit if not all the way Wondering what you were gonna say…

[strangerthings4theories]

Ok so I don't personally think Billy is coming back alive but I also don't think he was purely a Vecna-induced hallucination (as I've seen suggested). I suspect his mind-whammied body or spirit or something remains in the UD and I reckon he'll have at least one more scene as a zombie or similar.

Why?

I've not seen anyone else mention this, but Billy's scar prosthetics are actually really very odd if this is just a vision Vecna designed for Max. What's odd about them?

They're scars.

I don't have the scene to hand (I'm sure you do) but I could have sworn we saw Billy get through-and-throughed by the mind flayers tentacle, exactly where the Billy Max saw has a gaping hole in his vest. Yet when Max sees Billy this hole is healed over — the gap in the shirt isn't open on the wound we saw him get but on scarring. And that's weird: not to state the obvious, but corpses don't usually heal over.

There's four reasons I can personally think of why they'd make that choice, and none really makes sense. I'm sure there's stuff I've not thought of. (Excluding the copout of "this was easier" — they went to a lot of effort to add scarring in places that aren't even visible, and between practical effects and CGI I'm sure they could have done an open wound if that was what they wanted.)

1) this is how Max pictures him in her head for some reason, even though she never saw that. Vecna is just using the image she subconsciously believes in. This seems weird to me — if Max was going to picture Billy as a ghost, wouldn't she either picture him as he was in life or with the wounds she last saw him with? Why picture him looking a way he never looked during his life or death? (Similarly, his face is clean rather than covered in black blood)

2) this is based on some kind of remains of Billy that survive in the upside down and somehow managed to heal — Vecna is drawing on his own personal experience for the role for some reason. Maybe it's part of his method? (As I recall the other teenage victims only have auditory hallucinations. Creel senior enters the mindscape, but then Vecna knows him)

3) this actually is some kind of aspect of Billy that Vecna has trapped and is able to puppeteer. It looks physically different to how Billy looked at his death because changes have actually occurred in that timeframe.

4) there's some kind of Doyleist explanation, they're doing it for the horror — but surely scarring is less "horror" than a massive wound...

So yeah. Some choices were made, I personally really want to know why, and I thought you'd find the analysis fun even if it probably doesn't point to a living Billy

This is really fun post, thanks for sending it in!

Yeah the whole thing is... confusing. Sarah's already made a couple posts about it. Me, I'm just kinda goin 'wtf' and wishing I had more information lmao

And to add a lil more ✨ spice ✨ to the question, I was just reminded of a theory I'm developing that the Upside Down "remembers" its victims (and anything it comes into contact with, really) by storing copies of them.

So now I'm like...??? Is Vecna using a copy of Billy?? Does Billy still exist in the Upside Down, like a file buried in a computer's directory?

SOMEONE EXPLAIN