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aphroditesmoon · 1 year ago

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lacrymosa [part 1]

clarisse la rue x fem!hecatecabin!reader [boarding school au]

PART 2

summary: you were sent to a prestigious boarding school to be rid from your father as a burden, but when strange things begins to happen upon your arrival, you wonder what truly lies behind the school walls. And as you attract attention from an infamous student, your plans to lie low is disrupted for the semester.

warnings: basically pjo plot in a different font, wlw relationships and what that entails, artist!reader. warnings will be according to the chapter.

wc: 5.2k

a/n: part 2 will hv more clarisse, also I've never been good at finishing series, but here's to an attempt! Comment if you'd like to be added to the taglist!

The violent wind coming from outside of the car window sent a sharp shiver down your spine. You readjust your sitting position, pushing your school bag further away from you.

"Would you like to close the window, miss?" The driver asked, sparing a glance to your way. "No, it's fine." You assured him.

You have always liked the cold, it calms your nerves in a way. And for a day like this, you need all the help you can get.

Your father hadn't even been home to see you off for the last time. But you were kind of grateful for that. Usually you'd find it upsetting. But it was a clear decision that he purposely wanted you out of his line of vision when he had registered you into this boarding school.

Prestigious and highly acclaimed, he called it. Those were just polite words for strict and overbearing.

You have stopped wasting time trying to figure out why he hates you. Your mother dying from your birth was only the tip of the iceberg. Your whole existence is a burden to him, no matter how hard you've tried to change it.

I wonder if I'll even miss the hostility he's always given me, or the empty white walls of his mansions that have seen me at my worst and at my best. Those thoughts shouldn't matter anymore, you told yourself.

You've never been happy in that house, but familiarity, sometimes, was better than nothing. You fiddled with your crimson red tie that came with the uniform. What you could tell from the way you're dressed along with the down payment your father had to pay for you is that this place is an exaggerated babysitting place for rich kids with attitude problems.

You've been sent to many places away from your father. Summer camp, Spring camp, summer school and all that. But nothing this far away.

As per your research, the school seemed to be located far from the city and near the mountains up north. There are two buildings divided by gender that stands a few meters away from each other. Not that it'd be a problem for you. You've never been interested in boys much.

It was sunny earlier on the road, but the nearer you are to your destination, the cloudier the sky gets. "Looks like it's about to rain." You mumbled to yourself.

"That's normal here, miss. The weather here's always cold." The driver spoke from the front. You hadn't realized that he heard what you said.

It was a few minutes later when you finally see a large building from a distance. The view lived up to it's reputation even from a far. You feel your heart sinking into a stomach, the anxiety worsening.

This was it. This will be your home for the next 2 or 3 years.

Your driver speeds up once drizzling rain begins to fall down from the sky. You allow him to close the window from his seat and lower down the ac.

Feeling your fingers pruning up, you rub your palms together for warmth after reaching for your bag, pulling it closer to you.

The weather wasn't going to be a problem, and hopefully the people here won't be too.

---

When the car slowed down in front of the entrance, you let yourself take in the view of it all, girls ranging from your ages to younger, walking past of sitting by the stairs. All of them wearing the same thing that you are.

You didn't mean to make the driver open the door for you, but he did anyways as you're too distracted to stop him.

He moves straight to the back to retrieve your other bags as you step out of the vehicle. Some of the girls stopped and stared at you, knowing how rare it is to have new students here.

You couldn't tell what lies behind their long glares and gazes, but you had a feeling that they were eyeing you up like a predator does to their prey. Focusing on the large cream and white colored building staring you down, your heart whispered out a hopeful wish that you could just get back in the car and drive off.

You fix up your plaited skirt and turn towards your driver. "Do you need help to bring these in?" He asks.

You shook your head, immediately taking them into your hands. "No, I got it. But thank you." He smiled warmly as he shut the car hood close. "Have a great year, miss." He tells you politely before walking back to the driver's seat.

And that was the last familiar face you'll ever see for the rest of the semester. You lift up your hand in a tiny wave as you watch him reverse and drive off from the school ground.

You see him wave back before he finally disappears for good.

The staircase made it harder for you and your bags, and if you were expecting any kind eyes to offer some help, none came to it. Instead they all looked at you like you were stupid.

You counted the steps under your breath, stopping when you reached number 5, and then starting back again from 1. It was also an effort to keep your anxiety together, but at certain times like these, you wondered if breathing exercises are all lies made up by a psychiatrist to worsen someone symptom and continue to drive them crazy.

After a couple series of 1 to 5s, you finally made it to the top of the stairwell and into the open doors of the school.

If the rain outside hadn't been freezing your toes, inside was much more brutal. The school is air conditioned, of course it is.

When you said you liked cold, you didn't mean the frozen kind. The strawberry pink socks you're wearing aren't doing you any favors either as you breath out a tired sigh, full hands dragging your bags with you until you reach a tiny counter with the label "office" above the glass.

A teacher, or a guardian, sits inside, working on some paperwork. She looked up when she heard the rolling sound of the wheels on your bag and offered a small smile.

"You're new here, I take it?" You nodded your head and pursed your lips tightly. "Can I have your name?"

You gave her the information needed, from yoir name to your birth certificate. And once she's done compiling the necessary paperworks into a file, she stacks it in the shelves behind her.

"Here's your class schedule, and here's your dorm key." You slid the key onto your pocket and slipped the paper under your arms as you listened to her explaining how the dorm building is in a complete other side of this place, and that you'd have to drag your bags back down the lengthy staircase and walk another 6 minutes towards the other building on the left of the school. Not to be mistaken with the boy's dorms on the right.

You ignored the continuous staring from the other student as you forced yourself down again, and into the left.

The road to the dorm was nicely designed, a straightly drawn black and white concrete pavement in squares with grass on its side. It made the place look more homely. But of course, it wasn’t really gonna fool anyone.

The dragging became easier on the ground. You thanked the gods once you got to the other building once you spotted an elevator. Your first thought was, oh thank fuck for these rich assholes. And your second thought was, oh these are some real rich assholes.

There are less staring here since mostly everyone is already in school. You took your time walking once you're out of the elevator, reading the large signs of the dorm level names.

There are 20 levels to be accurate. And yours, unfortunately, is level 20.

You stood up straight in that elevator for what felt like a whole 10 minutes until it dinged open. Finding your room was much easier, you didn't have to walk very far to find your door. You used the key given to you to unlock the doors and pushed your bags into the room first before you.

You halted for a minute when you met with two strange girls from the inside.

Your roommates apparently have not gone to their classes yet and are still here. They looked at you expectantly as you stared right back.

"Uh-" your daydreams broke. "I'm new here." You announced.

One of the two laughed slightly and shook their head. "We know, we were waiting for you. I'm Harper, and this is Olivia." They extended their hands and you shook them without question.

"So, where'd you come from?" Olivia asks. She had beautiful green eyes and wavy blonde hair. Harper on the other hand, had dark hair and bold blue eyes. Next to each other, the two looks quite the pair. You began rearranging your bags on your side and taking out important things needed for your classes as you answer their inquiries. "New York."

"A city girl, that's nice. The difference here must be jarring." You snorted whilst you hang your clothes on to your small closet. "Very."

They walked out with you once you were done unpacking, leading you back to the school.

"The teachers won't mind you being late, with you being new and all that. But make a habit out of it and you'll get a penalty for it." Harper explained. "Penalty?"

They both nodded and kept on walking up towards the entrance. "Attendance is very important, this isn't public school, lying about health problems to get out of class or skip and disappear for more than 3 times, you could get expelled."

That is insane, you thought. "I didn't know they're that strict." Harper smirked and shrugged at that. "Yeah, I mean unless you're a legacy student, or your parents donate a lot for the school, you won't get many benefits."

Of course, even among the rich, the most privileged still get to escape justice and fairness. "Are you both legacy students?"

"No." Olivia snorted. "What's your locker number?" She takes a peek at your papers and moved right to your locker, opening it with ease.

"Thanks." You tell her while shoving your books inside of it.

"There aren't many legacy students here." Harper spoke from your side, referring back to your question from earlier.

"There are only certain families with histories deeply rooted within the school walls, like Luke Castellan or Silena.”

Your brows raises at those names as the three of you leaned back on the lockers. "Let me guess, they're brats who can get you expelled?"

"Worse." Olivia corrected with a sarcastic smile. "They can do whatever shit they want to you, and will not get expelled for it."

"But don't worry, half of them are decent, just don't piss them off and they'll leave you alone." You nod in understanding, knowing that it was your plan anyways, even if they hadn't warned you.

"Luke's not even entitled or mean, he's actually pretty nice. He helped me take out a book from the library once." Olivia added, wiggling her brows.

"You're just saying that because you like him." Harper scoffed and rolled her eyes.

"Even if I didn't, he's still not an ass." The bell rang the minute her sentence was finished. The two girls groaned and started saying their goodbyes before they parted ways to attend their classes.

"Meet up back for lunch?" Harper initiates. "Sure." You told her before following her directions to pre Calculus.

Your brain still hadn't fully registered what just happened. You just made two new friends, and that is a relief. Though you enjoy your alone time along with some quiet and peace, that doesn't mean you don't get lonely or feel isolated. Having bad social skills doesn't exactly equate to joy wanting a social life at all.

You walk into the half filled classroom and scan the space for an empty seat.

Some kids up front started whispering to themselves as they watched you from the corner of their eyes, but none of them tried speaking to you directly.

You flinch when you heard the teacher's voice, booming through the classroom as she enters right behind you. "You're the new girl?" She drops her bag onto her chair and looked you directly in your eyes.

"Yes." The teacher hummed to herself and turned towards her other students. "Do we have any empty seats at the back?" She asks loudly.

"There's one, but it's Chase's." A boy responded. "He's not in today, is he?" He shook his head at her.

"Alright, you can sit there temporarily, I'll ask the boys to bring in an extra table and chair for you tomorrow." You thanked her and walked right to your seat.

Grateful to be seated at the last row by the window, you slumped against the chair, relaxing your back.

The kids at the front stop wasting their time twisting their heads to stare at you, and as the class begins, you tell yourself that maybe this isn't as bad as you thought it'd be.

Your first class ever had been less exciting than expected. You had spent the last 20 minutes of the class trying not to doze off.

Barely any sleep came to you last night, considering how nervous you were for this day. All the worries you've had were for nothing, so far it's all been a bore, and all you wanted to do was to crawl back on to your bed at home and escape all of this strangeness.

Get your shit together, you scolded yourself. You've been all alone your whole life, how different is it now?

The girl on the seat next to yours had craned her neck in your direction, trying to peek through your notebook. Instinctively, you closed over it with your arm.

She did not need to see how there are zero equations in your notebook, all replaced with doodles of flowers and frogs.

When all is hopeless, your passion is where you turn to. Life is suffering in parts, but you find that being able to make it into art, makes the suffering less painful, or at least, more manageable.

Your father had never liked how you prefer to spend your time in art class over piano. In fact, when you were much younger, he even took the initiative to throw out all of your sketchbook. You had to find time to practice your drawing when you aren't at home, knowing his ignorance for your privacy.

But here, hopefully, you'll have ample time to draw and paint.

Once the class is dismissed, you make your way straight into the bathroom, trying to get into a booth before it gets crowded. You caught a glimpse of your reflection from the mirror and cringed at yourself. For some reason, even when you're not doing anything, the school air still finds a way to turn your hair frizzy.

You ran into the small space with open doors and knocked it shut as soon as you're in.

You could hear footsteps entering in right after you're done peeing. A cacophony of running sink water and empty chatter fills your ears as you stood up to fix your skirt and your socks.

The zip of your skirt seemed to have an issue getting stuck on a piece of string, holding it back from fully zipping up. You lifted it up higher and pulled the string out before using your teeth to rip it off of the zip and waving it onto the floor.

There was a moment of silence outside the door just before you were going to exit it. But a loud sound of slamming doors and laughter stops you at your place.

"Lock the doors." You hear another female voice command. She was not shouting, but she had a bold voice that seemed fit for a leader, straight to the point and confident.

Any noise of giggling or chatting immediately died down the moment the girl and her friends stepped in, and now you wonder if getting out would be a good idea at all. So you stayed quiet inside the bathroom.

Your palms are held against the door while you lean into it, trying to hear her clearer.

"What did I tell you last week?" The girl spoke again. She sounded upset or the second worst thing, disappointed.

Another voice rose up in response, meeker in comparison. "You said to have it by Monday."

"It's Wednesday today."

"But I have it now!" The other girl pleaded. "I don't care. I asked for it on Monday, you're two days late." The silence that came after her words was worrying. It was only when she spoke again that you felt your racing heart slowing down.

"You know what you're gonna do right now?" She asks. Silence. "You're going to hand me the money, and then you're going to give me 20 on the ground, right here."

20 what? You frowned in confusion. Money?

You expected resistance, begging, or even defiance from the other girl, but you only heard a resigned sigh from the other side of the door.

The door creaked slightly. You tried to balance yourself away from it when you accidentally slipped. Your fingers reach for the door handle to pull yourself up, and just when you thought it couldn't get worse, the door slams back on its hinges. You cursed yourself internally.

"What the fuck." The first girl snapped. "Booth number 2." She called out. "Get out of there right now or I'll break the door now."

Your breath hitches at the direct interaction and your hands hesitate to unlock the booth. But you'd rather get it over with than risk being taunted in a toilet.

You unlatch the lock with your fingers and slowly pull open the door. The first face you're met with is the one you assume who had addressed you seconds ago.

She had a naturally terrifying expression, with her brows knitted together and her hair pulled up in a ponytail. The bronze skinned girl connecting her gaze to yours.

The staring did not last as she soon started eyeing you up and down like she's analyzing every bad decision you've ever made.

But when she lifts her head back up to your face, you noticed that her frowning had lessened slightly. "You're new." She states aloud.

"How'd you know?" You ask her. "Anyone who's been here for more than a week would have the mind to run out of the bathroom as soon as they heard me." She answered coolly, taking a few steps nearer to you.

"What's your name?" She asks you. You tell her your first name.

She hums in acknowledgement before repeating your name, letting the syllables roll against her tongue. "I assume you haven't been making any friends yet, have you?"

You tried not to look to her side at the girl that was currently half squatting on the floor. "You're making her do push ups." You think aloud, ignoring her question.

"What? Oh, her? She's not important, and she's lucky i’m only making her do 25." The girl waved off like it's a silly joke. "I thought you said 20?" The other girl muttered under her breath.

She snapped her head at the younger girl and glared at her. "One more word and I'll make it 30."

Turning her head back to you, the anger she bore dissolved. "It's a good thing you've met me," she started. "In this place, it's all about making the right type of friends, just in case and not enemies."

"I don't plan on making enemies." You tell her. She was trying to intimidate you. Or at least, ruffle your feathers.

"No one does, but they just do it anyways without realizing." She answers with a shrug.

"And I suppose, if I'm with you, I won't fall down that road?" You didn't mean for it to sound insulting or sarcastic, but when she raised a brow in response, a ghost of smirk over her face, you realized that it was too late to take back your words.

"No, you won't. Because I am that enemy that you should be avoiding." You wondered if she is one of those people that's all talk and no bite, but the way she's folding her arms together as she stands inches away from you, radiated something much more sinister than you'd expect from a typical bully.

"I have to go." You say suddenly, a sense of urgency filled you when you remembered that Harper and Olivia would be waiting for you in the cafeteria. "I won't tell anyone about this." You added, trying to make sure there'd be no bad blood between the two of you.

"You can tell anyone you'd like, it wouldn't matter." She replies, stepping away from you to lean her back on the sink counter.

You clicked your heels away from her and made your way out, taking off the locks before you could swing the door open. You could feel her gaze on you as you left, but didn't twist your head back to confirm.

It didn't matter who she was. A few hours from now you'd forget you even met her, and just like always, you'll blend in with the crowd and be out of her sight.

---

"Where have you been?" Harper inquired once you sat next to her.

She had half a donut in her mouth as she asked this. "Don't talk with your mouth full." You chided her. She groans and mumbles something else you can't understand but chews the food until she's finished before she speaks again.

"We waited for like 10 minutes, you know recess isn't that long." You took a bite of your own sandwich and shrugged at her like nothing. "I was in the bathroom, there was a line." Harper nodded in understanding, but Olivia made a face of disgust as she toyed with her food.

"I hate the bathroom here, the dorm bathrooms are better." She said.

"What if you really need to pee?" You ask in disbelief. "I hold it in."

"What if you had explosive diarrhea?"

"Well, that would suck." Harper chokes out laugh, trying not to spit out her donut. You joined her with a chuckle, shaking your head at your friend.

"Your fear of public bathrooms will be the death of you." Harper quipped after taking a long sip of water. "I think it makes me stronger." Olivia argues.

"Well, I think it's gonna mess with your bladder." The brunette argues back. You listen to their back and forth until the bell rings again, indicating the end of recess.

You were a bit bummed that your classes aren't aligned with theirs, your nerves are much less triggered when they're around, a sense of familiarity of a sort.

Though, there was nothing you can do about it. You say your goodbyes at your lockers and parted ways again for your last 2 classes. The rest of school time was made bearable with the reminder that you at least shared rooms with your two new friends, and so there was nothing to worry about at all actually.

A part of you feels safer when you're around them. Though your mind is constantly bringing up the girl you've met in the bathroom. Her brown eyes and the way she looked at you.

She didn't strike you as someone admirable, but you had to admit, her features were remarkable. You had pulled out a pencil and a paper for a quick sketch of her eyes during Literature class.

It only hit you then, that you haven't even asked for her name. She knew yours, but you didn't know hers.

What would it matter? You asked yourself. If all goes well, you'll never see her for the whole semester at all. And she'd be nothing more than another face in your sketchbook.

You paid attention to the lesson, but your hands just needed something to work on while you were listening. Tapping your fingers repeatedly on the table was getting old, so you got productive and drew up a little something.

You had managed only half of her face on the paper by the time the class ended. Slipping the book into your tote bag, you follow the rush of students leaving class and heading back to your locker to switch your books for the last class.

It was 8pm when you were finally in the dorm elevator, back against the cold silver metal, relieving the warmth that radiated off of your body. The gym here is open all day and night, and even if the only equipment they had was a treadmill, you intended to utilise them fully.

Working out helps to take your mind off things, and it tires you out enough to help you sleep easier at night.

And so while everyone went back to their dorms, you stashed your bag by the gym entrance and tied your hair back up and went ahead for a good 40 minutes run.

You kept your eyes on the elevator level, watching the number get higher and higher until it eventually reached 20. It dinged open and allows you out with your poor tired feet and worn out expression.

It was quiet on the top floor, nothing like you’d predict what with the hour still being early. The small light bulbs above your head led you straight down the long corridor until you reached your room.

You took out your key and slashed it into the keyhole and heard your friends’ voices evolving from muffled noises into a clearer state as you pushed the door open.

You expected the girls to scold you over your absence again, as you do make it a habit of going places without letting them know, but what you didn't expect once you enter your dorm room, is for them to genuinely fret over your late arrival.

"You can't just disappear without telling anyone!" Olivia exclaimed, her large green eyes staring into your soul as you took your uniform off. "I was at the gym." You explained.

“In your school clothes?” Harper scrunches her nose in disagreement. “Hey, it's convenient.” You retorted.

"Were there other people there?" You shook your head no. "Well, maybe next time we'll go with you. I know you're not used to the unspoken rules here, but there are seriously more creeps than you can imagine in this place."

They were both sitting on their beds as they're talking to you, fully dressed in their matching pajamas like twins.

Harper had a face mask on as she rested her head on her pillows, her elbows used to help her sit up. They had music playing in the background, a song you recognized as Tourniquet by Evanescence. “I love this song.” You say randomly.

“Don’t change the subject.” You look over at them in confusion once you're finished changing.

"I didn't know it'd be such a big deal, I'm doing what everyone else does."

"I know, but I'm just saying, maybe we should all just play it safe for the semester. We don’t want another Samara accident." Harper reasoned.

You walked over to sit by the edge of her bed and asked her who's Samara.

"Samara Turner. She's a senior from last year. Some kid found her passed out by the back garden, her eyes were rolled back, and she was basically frothing from the mouth. When the ambulance came, it was too late. She was gone."

“Are you just making this up to scare me?” You ask them suspiciously. “No!” Olivia denies. “It's a real story, the teachers covered it up real good for future students, not even the news got a hold of Samara's fate.”

"Does anyone know what really happened?" You questioned them.

"The police ruled it as an overdose, but I can't imagine any type of drug running through her veins. And also, in the garden? That's just weird." Olivia says, shaking her head in disbelief.

"You guys think someone drugged her?" Harper shrugged and pursed her lips, inconclusive.

"Either way. It happened when she was alone. What was she even doing in the garden late at night? No one knows. But everyone will point their finger right back at her and say it's her own fault." You understood what they meant. This place isn't as picture perfect as it seemed, just like any other place, it has its holes and flaws.

"Okay, the next time I'm going anywhere other than my classes, I'll let one of you know." Harper and Olivia smiled and looked relieved. You could tell they were satisfied by your answer. "And if we're going anywhere, we'll tell you."

"Okay." You assured them.

You've never really known what it was like to have people worry over you this way. Most of the time, people were grateful when you minded your own business and hid away. And sure there is a little bit of annoyance that comes with being scolded like a child, but it also felt good to have someone care for you this way.

You folded your knees onto your chest, repositioning yourself on her bed. It is only after you move closer to her that you notice your sketchbook on her side table.

"Where'd you find that?" You jolted up, eyes widening..

"Oh, this is another thing we wanted to ask you about." Harper exclaimed, stretching her arm towards the book and passing it over to you. "Clarisse came over here like 15 minutes ago, said you dropped this."

"Who's Clarisse?" You frowned.

"Oh that's funny, you don't know who Clarisse is, and yet she's talking about you like you've been friends for ages." Harper says it like a mother hen catching her daughter red handed, but you're only further confused.

"No, seriously. Who's Clarisse?"

Olivia sighed from her bed and waved her hand exaggeratedly. "Curly hair, dark skin, looks like she can dropkick you in 6 different ways." Instantly, something in your brain clicked.

"Oh, her." Their expression changed into curiosity as they await for you to add more.

"I...met her in the bathroom. She was making a kid do pushups. But we barely talked, I just left."

"Yeah well, she asked where you were when she came by, and we told her we didn't know. And then she gave me this." You opened the book and found that the page with her face on has been ripped away.

Something eats away at your heart when you saw the torn pages, but you said nothing and instead just tossed the book onto your own bed. "What's her deal anyways." You huffed.

"Legacy students, they're all a little entitled like that, her more than others." Olivia answered.

"Oh, she's entitled alright." You muttered to yourself and rolled your eyes.

"I think I'm just gonna go catch up on homework now, unless there's anything else you two want to nag me on." Harper snorted and shoved you playfully but still smiled.

"No, no more nagging." Olivia concluded.

#clarisse pjo #clarisse la rue #clarisse la rue x reader #clarisse x reader #pjo series #percy jackson #percy jackon and the olympians #percy jackson and the olympians #percy jackson x reader #pjo x reader #dior goodjohn #dior goodjohn x reader

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snakeguy999 · 4 months ago

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Hi. To be honest, the response to that Batter drawing was quite overwhelming. It was not made with erotica in mind, but it's a fair interpretation.

Now, my passion for OFF feels a tad wilted, and alike with a dead flower, I cannot seem to revive it. I'm happy so many people gathered a liking for the piece, but I don't think I can supply it further. Seems my own passions have escaped me without my knowledge and have seeped into the fabric of my work. Cool! Kinda nice how so many enjoy this little niche of gore, though.

To answer a few asks, I'm distantly excited for the steam release of the game, and I predict it will be a very good experience, new and changed as it is. Mortis Ghost's artistic vision has absolutely changed and grown with him, and I wish to see this new view applied onto the game. Will play, hopefully.

But I don't know how many OFF drawings I will be making, let alone posting. I feel spent, burnt, and a little bit soggy, haha. So, sorry! ❤️

#not art #beautiful space this tumblr ecosystem is #and im ever so grateful to play my little role in it #im so aaaaahhh so happy with the response! i never expected this...#sorry for the absence but i dont know when im going to post again #im making many drawings but none fit interests here #so! yea. i need a little break.

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melshifting · 4 months ago

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Pick an object reading! (shifting) - How's your shifting journey?

Hi! This is the first time I'm doing this, so apologies if it's not entirely accurate as I'm a beginner; but, also remember, that this is for a diverse collective, so take what resonates and leave what doesn't <3

(BTW: I'm using an angel deck which is in Spanish and I can't find the right cards online, so I'm sorry for now showing them)

────୨ৎ────

If you chose #01... You are a creative person, capable of overcoming the challenges that come your way. I feel like you are one of those people who spent most of their lives thinking or imagining living in a different world. If necessary, ask for help in your shifting process (here on Tumblr or with a mutual/friend who has shifted or is experienced).

The first thing that came to mind when I saw the second card was intrusive thoughts. Don't let yourself be driven by your doubts or fears. Protect that inner child who always wanted to fantasize about living in a magical world, and now can do that with shifting.

Your vision is set forward, inviting you to continue “facing” shifting with a positive outlook. You need to put on your big boy/girl pants and stop running away from what keeps you from shifting. (You may also be someone important in your DR - some CEO, or you are highly respected).

────୨ৎ────

If you chose #02... It clearly shows a guidance figure - if you know about this, you could try communicating with your spiritual guides to deal more personally with your limitations; or, maybe you need to be your own guide - try getting off social media for a bit, stop overwhelming yourself with info, or just leave all those 'failed' efforts behind.

You need to make up your mind; there are lots of doubts, fears, or some self-doubt inside you. Maybe you are that kind of shifter who takes the words of antis very badly, leaving you unmotivated. Let go of your fears.

And speaking of doubts, you seem to have doubts about a particular subject (DON'T SUPPRESS IT LMAO) - perhaps you doubt about the existence of shifting, or your ability to do it. Maybe you've been trying for a while now and you still haven't succeeded. You are letting yourself get carried away by your insecurities, you're falling out of love with shifting; work with your intuition to reconnect and see the light in your process.

────୨ৎ────

If you chose #03... Maybe you are some kind of artist in your DR (idol, singer, actress/actor, etc). Work with that creativity you also have in your CR to connect with your DR, with your DR self - detail things about your reality, sketch/draw smth, visualize scenarios, or do whatever you'd like using your creative talent.

Lately, you've been thinking about doing something to let go of limiting beliefs (mental diet? or maybe 'resetting' your process?). Whatever it is, you are doing well to free your mind, making room for thoughts that align with what you want.

This last card shows someone who has bad habits, perhaps it's about someone who keeps fantasizing instead of taking action, or someone who breaks down when things don't go their way. You have to be firm to stop suffering with shifting. Keep your head up, there is always a light at the end of the tunnel.

────୨ৎ────

TYSM for reading! I hope that, at least a small part, of the reading you have chosen resonates with you <3 I'll keep working on my tarot reading skills lol, hopefully soon I'll have the deck that I want so I can provide better readings!

#kpop shifting #reality shifting #shiftblr #shifters #shifting community #shifting diary #shifttok #reality shifter #desired reality #desired self #shifting

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xxsquiddkiddxx · 8 months ago

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hiiii could I request smth w John Bender where he's kinda infamous in the school. Reader and him are maybe assigned on a sculpting project together or something like that, and because of his reputation he expects her to hate him, but she's nothing but nice to him and feels for him because she sees the signs of abuse. One day he seems in an even worse mood than normal and is pretty bruised up (though trying to hide it) and after school when they walk out together she privately broaches the subject, causing him to involuntary have a breakdown/panic attack, which she comforts him through

With some romantic fluff at the end?? Idk ahhhh sorry this is so specific I feel awkward typing this all out 😭 no worries if you can't and have an amazing day/night!

A/N: Wait omg I actually love this???.?? I'll TOTALLY do this!!!!!! Idk how well it'll be cuz I haven't watched Breakfast Club since mid August... but I'll do my best. (Also ty so much for being specific! Helps me out A LOT more!)

Art Class ~ John Bender x !Artist! Reader

Pronouns for Reader: She/Her

Relationship type: Platonic to romantic

Genreal Idea: (Y/N) and John are working on an art project together, and things seem to be going smoothly. A friendship even seems to be blooming. However, one day something seems... off. And (Y/N) seems determined to figure it out.

Content Warnings: John might be out of character, accurate PTSD representation from someone with PTSD, abuse mentioned (but not seen in action), swearing. It's a fic that takes place in the 80s. What do you expect???

(No particular POV)

☆Day 1: Assignment☆

John wasn't exactly the best at art. Shop? He pretty much had that class DOWN. Art? Not so much. So he decided to bite the bullet and just get the class over with. It was only a half-year class anyway. And he needed it to graduate. And in his mind, if he could graduate... he could get the FUCK out of that house. It was a win for him.

He took his spot in the back of the classroom, sunglasses on his face, and leaned back slightly in his chair. He found himself zoning out, wrapping himself around his own head. The thing that pulls him out of his thoughts is the sound of someone clearing their throat. He lifts his sunglasses up slightly on one side, just enough to see who it was. It was a girl with (H/C) hair and (E/C) eyes. Someone he INSTANTLY recognized as (Y/N) (L/N)

He didn't know the girl personally. He just knew OF her, if that makes any sense. He had another class with her, but he couldn't tell you what class it was. His school schedule mostly just blurred together if he was being honest. But every time he'd stolen a quick glance at her or whenever she was just simply in his line of vision, she always had her nose in either a book or a sketchbook. No in between. Occasionally, she was seen doing homework, but the rest of the time, it was drawing or reading.

"Can I help you?" He asks, a little snappier than he'd intended. Before he had a chance to mutter a quick apology and try again, she speaks.

"We were assigned to do the sculpting project together?" She says, unfazed by the snappy tone. It was the first time she'd ever spoken. Or... at least the first time John had ever heard her speak. Not nessicarily what he expected, but- God that sounds so fucking weird.

"Oh," He says, feeling kinda stupid. She just sits down, setting her bag down beside her, fishing around for what he assumed was her sketchbook. He decides to speak again, hopefully making some form of small talk to make up for the snappiness of before. "(Y/N), right?" He found himself bewildered at his own behavior. He normally never found himself feeling bad about his attitude or behavior. And here he was, feeling like a douche for slightly snapping at her.

"Yes," She says. "You perfer John or Bender?" She asks, grabbing a pencil and sliding it over to him, John stopped it with his forefinger. "I hear people call you both."

"I don't care." He says simply, watching her grab her sketchbook.

"Alright, John, it is." She says. "So, were you paying attention to the teacher, or do you have any idea what we're doing for the next..." She thinks for a moment, tapping her pencil eraser to the paper. "Week or so?" John's silence speaks more than if he'd simply said that he didn't. "We're doing a sculpting project." She says.

"Ah, I see." He says, twirling the pencil in his fingers.

"So I was thinking we could possibly get a rough idea before we actually dive in, yeah?" She says, flipping through her sketchbook. John gets some glimpses of her art, mesmerized by her work. She flips to the next blank page, writing at the top "PROJECT IDEAS".

The two plan, and by the two, (Y/N) mostly talked, and John just kinda nodded and went along with it.

At the end of class, (Y/N) gave John her phone number so they could stay in contact about the project. And the two went their separate ways for the day.

☆Day 3: Even More Sketching, Some Potential Friendship Forming☆

"How the hell do you understand this?" John asks, cracking his knuckles. "I barely understand 90% of this class." The girl in front of him simply chuckles.

"I've done this for a LONG while, John." She says. Most people just called him Bender, so hearing her call him John made him feel... nice? He didn't know, feelings are weird, and that wasn't a rabbit hole he really wanted to go down today.

"I've noticed." John says as the two work. "I hardly ever see you without that little sketchbook of yours." The two continue to work before John breaks the silence between the two.

"Ya know... I don't actually hate this." He says quietly, mostly to himself. (Y/N) hums in response.

"You say sumthin?" She asks, looking up at him. John feels heat rise to his face as he clears his throat, making up something on the spot.

"I-I said that I'm surprised you don't hate me." He says smoothly, covering up his little embarrassing moment.

"Why would I do that?" She asks, her eyes going back down to the large(ish) lump of clay infront of her as she rolls up her sleeves. The two converse back and forth while they do their project.

"Hey, so I was thinking." (Y/N) says before class ends. "Since we are a tad behind, we could possibly stay after school one of these days to get some extra work in."

"That works for me." John says, hand in his pocket. "When were you thinking?"

"Would you be able to do Thursday?" She asks. John thinks for a moment.

"Yeah, I can do that." John says.

"Sweet." She says as the bell rings. She puts the stuff they were using away and grabs her bag. "See ya."

John, left slightly speechless and red faced, blinks a few times before mumbling a "Yeah, see ya."

☆~☆

John was practically counting down the hours until he'd be able to work with (Y/N) after school. The fact that he was counting the hours down both disgusted and fascinated him. It was an odd combo that he really wasn't familiar with, nor had a desire to be familiar with.

(Y/N) had been nothing but the kindest soul to him. Did it make sense to him? No. Was he gonna ruin it by saying something? ... Also no.

☆Day 6: After School Work and a Walk Home☆

(Y/N) instantly knew something was up the second she set her stuff down. The air felt thicker around John, who was clearly pissed. The two didn't really talk, as (Y/N) detected he wasn't really in that mood. However, this didn't stop her from sliding a little slip of paper towards him.

John unfurled it: "You good? You seem a lot more angry than norma." John bit a small corner of his mouth until he could taste his own blood before responding verbally.

"It's not any of your business." He responds. The girl simply sighs softly, the two going back to the project. A few bruises poke out from under John's jacket sleeve, and (Y/N)'s heart instantly aches. She knew EXACTLY what was going on.

At the end of class, (Y/N) puts stuff away before asking John: "You still down to stay after?" She asks, her voice a bit softer than normal. John simply mumbles a "Yeah, whatever" and is out of the door.

☆~☆

(Y/N) sat on a desk as she ate a granola bar, waiting for John. Sure enough, there he was. He tossed his stuff at his normal desk, not really caring if anything was damaged.

"Ya know, we can reschedule if you're not doing the best." She says, doing her best not to sound rude or condescending.

"I'm fine, (Y/N)!" John says, slightly snappier than normal. "God, will you get off my back, please?" (Y/N), taken slightly aback, simply nods her head and the two get to work.

☆~☆

The two walk out of the school in silence. John feels like an absolute dick. He shouldn't have snapped at (Y/N). He's mad at his dad, not her. He can't bring himself to apologize though.

For once, it's (Y/N) who breaks the dense silence. "John, you don't have-"

"For fucks sake, I'm FINE, woman!" He snaps, turning to her. "God take the fucking hint?! Try that!" (Y/N) blinks a few times. She takes a lot, but that wasn't something she was gonna take. Regardless of what he was currently going through.

"Listen, John. I get you're in a bad mood. And you don't have to tell me why." She says. "But it's obvious you're not-"

"I'M FINE, (Y/N)!" He says, his voice shaking with unnessicary rage. "I'm fine! Fucking PERFECT even!" His hands shake with the rage. "So PLEASE! For FUCKING FUCKS SAKE! Get OFF of my ass about this 'You're not fine' shit. I'm PERFECTLY FINE!"

"Oh, clearly." (Y/N) says, hands on her hips. "Because someone who's fine acts like this."

"Oh my fucking god." John groans, pinching the bridge of his nose. "Are you ACTUALLY braindead? Did you NOT hear me?"

"John," The girl says, trying to be as calm as she can. "I can literally SEE the brusies-"

"Oh my god, you fucking win! You fucking win." He says, practically whirling his jacket to the earth, revealing a shit ton of bruises and marks both old and new. "There, my old man whipped me to shit last night cuz I forgot to do something exactly to his liking. SATISFIED?!?" The rage in John's voice scares both (Y/N) and himself... but mostly himself.

The look that (Y/N) has on her face brings him damn near to tears. It's a look not of disgust or fake sympathy. But of actual concern, maybe even actual care. He's trying to look everywhere, BUT her face.

"John..." She whispers softly, her fingers moving to his arm, but instantly drawing back. John sighs, extending his arm out to her. Her soft fingers trace each mark softly, almost a feather light touch. "You don't deserve this."

"Well clearly, I did." He mumbles, turning his head to the side. (Y/N) drags her finger down his arm softly to his hand, where she squeezes gently.

"No, you don't." She says, looking him in the eyes. "John, I may not have known you for a super long time. But I know for a FACT that you're a good person under the tough guy exterior." John stays quiet, his eyes not leaving the girl in front of him. "You DON'T deserve this." She gestures to every mark that she could see and the ones she probably couldn't see. "And I'll be DAMNED if I listen to you act like you don't deserve the dirt under my shoes." Her other hand moves to his shoulder, squeezing it comfortingly. "Last time I checked, no human being deserves this. And if you need ANYBODY, SOMEWHERE to get away for a bit, my door's WIDE open, just call me, talk to me, hell even send me a letter. I don't care. But I'm here-"

"(Y/N)..." He says softly, his fingers wrapping around the hand (Y/N) had hers in. "Thank you. I appreciate it."

"Of course, John." She says softly, going up on her tiptoes to lightly brush her lips to his cheek. "Contrary to belief, I do have a-"

"You missed." He says.

"I-I'm sorry?" She asks. John simply chuckles before pressing his lips against her own.

A/N: There we are! Hopefully, I did the idea justice. I loved it sm. I'm not nessicarily good at romantic fluff (I don't tend to experience romantic fluff often if ever XD) so hopefully I did it alright. I feel like I put a bit too much of myself into John during his little meltdown, as that's how I was during my first PTSD episode. I APOLOGISE FOR HOW LONG THIS TOOK FOR ME TO GET OUT THO 😭😭😭😭

#judd nelson x reader #fanfic #80smovies #judd nelson #the breakfast club #john bender x reader #john bender #brat pack

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alicia-18 · 1 month ago

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Second Choice — Eminem x Reader

Summary; Y/N was used to being a second choice to everyone, so it didn’t surprise her at all when Marshall broke off their situationship in order to give things a try with Kim again. But she was surprised by the emotions that came with it.

Warnings; this fic will include mentions of domestic violence (not between Em and Y/N), drug and alcohol abuse, adult content, swearing, idiots in love, and moments where you hate both Eminem and yourself :)

Notes; Guys my laptop is being a cunt. It’s not working properly and is being well slow so this hasn’t been as thoroughly edited as I like and will not be added to my masterlist until it decides to work properly. I’ve got my friend popping round to have a look at it in the next couple days so hopefully will have it sorted and be able to update more frequently.

Chapter Sixteen; I Got Jealous

You had stayed behind whilst the boys went off, mainly to say hi to a few fans and take a few photos before getting in the bus. You were the smallest artist on the tour so less people swarmed you, and you wanted to be able to give them the best experience you could. But after half an hour, your entire body was spent. All you wanted to do was go lay down and sleep, but of course, your life never did go so smoothly.

You clambered into the tour bus, using one hand to cover your mouth as you loudly yawned, your eyes prickling with the sensation. You were so tired, you barely paid attention to your surroundings. So much so, that you didn’t tune into your tour buddies until a nasally giggle pierced your exhausted bubble. In front of you was an extremely intoxicated Marshall, not that you could see more than his hands and legs. That was because a woman was perched on his lap, throwing her head back as if he had said the funniest thing in the world. You weren’t sure if it was your jealousy or her bright hair that caused your vision to go red, but you could feel your entire body burning up. Ever since you and him became somewhat exclusive, he didn’t flaunt women in your face. Even once he broke you off for Kim he didn’t flaunt her in your face. It was probably over a year ago since you had to witness his hands on someone else’s body. And the image ignited every nerve in your body.

Thinking wasn’t an option as you advanced on them, noticing his hands dipping down and cupping her ass. That annoying giggle drowned out your thunderous steps and pounding heart, and no one’s reactions were quick enough to intervene. Before they and yourself knew it, your fingers scratched her scalp and collected her hair into your hands. She screeched as you used all your might to drag her out of his grasp and towards the door of the bus. She landed on the floor with a thud, her arms and legs sprawled amongst the littered beer cans.

“Woah what the fuck!” Proof jumped up to intervene, realising what was happening before the other men — barring Marshall. You snapped your head to him and glared as coldly as you could whilst still hailing her thrashing body.

“Come near me and I’ll kick you in the dick so hard it turns into a fucking vagina.” He immediately sat down, taking your threat for gospel.

“Let go of me, you bitch!” The redhead screamed as she tried getting to her feet, but you pulled harder. You grunted once getting to the door of the tour bus, realising dragging her out was more difficult than you had anticipated but somehow managed it. You pushed her by the back of her head once off, sending her tumbling onto the pavement with a loud groan. A few strands of her orange hair remained tangled round your fingers, and you pulled them off one by one as you entered the bus again, indicating to the driver to shut the door. Not wanting to argue, he did as you said and began driving away, leaving the ginger lying on the sidewalk.

The bus was eerily silent as you nonchalantly finished removing her hair from your fingers, throwing it on the floor without a care. The silence lasted a good few minutes, no one knowing what to say. Sure, the boys had heard you shout, seen you threaten others when you had to. Never had they seen you act like that. The way you didn’t even say a single word to the woman, and somehow hauled her out of the tour bus despite her being considerably taller than you and fighting every step of the way. It was down right creepy how you just stood before them, leaning on the side of the bus as you picked the last strand of hair from you.

“What the fuck was that?” Marshall managed to get out, the interaction seemingly sobering him slightly. You flicked your eyes up to meet his, your face blank as you stared him down.

“I’m tired.” You complained, deciding to ignore him. Your hands ran through your hair, now ginger free, before you stretched. Proof and 50 shared a look, one you couldn’t decipher, but ultimately resulted in 50 speaking.

“You gonna give us sex changes if we speak?” He questioned, folding his arms over his chest. You shook your head no, your jealousy extinguishing the further away from the tramp you got. “So why the fuck did you just drag that bitch out? You literally dragged her out by her hair. You’re a crazy bitch.” He laughed at the end, clearly amused but equally shocked. You shrugged, reaching into the purse you hand hanging off you and fished a lollipop from inside it. You put the blue raspberry sucker in your mouth as you contemplated your words.

“Maybe I decided I ain’t gonna watch you fuck your way through the entire tour. She is lucky all I did was drag her out, because trust me, I wanted to do a whole lot worse.” Your emotions felt heightened, it was odd. Your body still felt on fire from the performance with Marshall that night. You couldn’t deny it anymore. You wanted him. You wanted him just like a crackhead wanted crack. You were craving him. A touch only he could supply. Your insides were yearning for him, and you felt empty without him physically connected to him.

You swirled your tongue around the lollipop, maintaining eye contact with his baby blues. “I got jealous.” You advanced him, grabbing his shirt and tugging. He scrambled to his feet, utterly baffled and completely turned on. Disregarding the others in the room with you, you grabbed his jaw and pulled on him until his lips had no option but to collide with yours. It wasn’t loving in the slightest. He kissed back immediately but it was all filled with nips and tugs and resulted in a complete fight with your mouths. “Bring another girl back here and I swear I’ll force you to watch another man take me.” You murmured against his lips, dragging a groan from him as his hands landed on your hips and squeezed into the flesh possessively.

“I’ll kill him.” He promised, and the image of him threatening the guy at 50s party entered your mind. Your insides bubbled with need as you pulled away from his mouth.

“Let’s go to bed.” Your hand ran down his chest and to his pants, where you squeezed his ever growing bulge over the material. He didn’t want anyone to ever see you in the state he got you, just the idea of Proof or 50 witnessing your face when intoxicated on him ignited the familiar feeling of possessiveness inside him. He hooked his hands under you thighs, lifting you with ease and carrying you into the bunk portion of the bus, slamming the door behind him.

50 and Proof blinked at the space you both just were for a moment, slightly disturbed by how quickly the night changed. “I guess we’re sleeping out here tonight,” Proof stated, eyes not leaving the bunk door.

“They’re fucking crazy.” 50 breathed, and he was right, of course.

#eminem #marshall mathers #slim shady #eminem x reader #fan fiction #marshall mathers x reader #slim shady x reader

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yuurivoice · 2 months ago

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If there was a con started solely for asmr story creators similar to DreamCon and MomoCon, do you think it would be successful? What would be your vision for something like that?

I think you'd have to go up one step on the ladder and just have it be an ASMR Convention with multiple branches to explore genres and niches. That way you'd also open up the artist/merch area for supplies, etc. and so forth and hopefully get some sponsors on board. There are also WAYYYYY bigger names in traditional ASMR that would help with attendance.

You'd have to come up with a solid solution for private creators, essentially work out a Vtuber type setup for them, which is a whole extra bunch of work, but not impossible! I do think having physical people there is ideal, but you can host panels with a mix, etc.

I think you'd have to have strong supporters on the back end, and trusted folks in the con scene to make it resemble something closer to successful rather than a Tumblr con ballpit situation lol.

On the back of character/narrative driven ASMR Roleplay itself, I don't think it's doable in a physical location. The numbers aren't there, in my opinion. You could do a digital convention, I've seen that sort of thing happen before, but that's much smaller scale. That's something I've thought of trying to accomplish either in a stream setting paired with Discord integrations, etc. but centered particularly on my content + collaborators within the space. I've never told anyone about that, so don't like...take that as me saying I have plans, it's just a thought I had like a year ago and never revisited.

For reference, there was TingleCon, which was a more traditional ASMR Online Convention. Doesn't appear to be active anymore, and I'm not sure what sort of metrics they were hoping for in terms of what was and was not a success. But I think they gave it a good shot! I think a lesson I can peep right off the rip is you probably need to secure some funding and actually get some heavy hitters, and have a strong social media team with a prepared rollout plan to maximize your reach.

I would love to see 18+ conventions centered on adult content to open up a bit for audio creators, which is a separate thing from what you're discussing, but an additional thought I've had. I shot my shot once with a convention here in Central TX but it didn't happen.

I want to guest at more cons in the future, or at least host panels again. Every time it has been a pretty big success!

Thanks for the intriguing question!

#yuurivoice #asmr roleplay #audio rp #i love this shit tbh ask me more biz related questions lmfao

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intramoon · 5 months ago

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hi aj !! i have a question i dont want to sound rude please know im not trying to be rude. i came back to simblr after a long time and its been really hard not to get discouraged. :/ my account is really dead no one interacts with me anymore. stuff is so different. i remember you used to be kinda popular but how do you deal with people not interacting with you as much as they used to?? i dont mean that in a mean way!! i dont want to quit simblr but idk how to get back to how things were

Hi! Don't worry, I don't think you're being rude, I understand where you're coming from. ♡ My response will be long because I have a lot to say about the topic, hopefully, it will help you.

If you were mostly active when I was in my "prime" (assuming that's what you mean by "kinda popular"), like 2018-2021, things will never be how they were then. The community, trends, and how we interacted with each other was so much different, I don't think it will ever go back to how it was then. I am kind of happy about that. Although my relationship with that time on Simblr is nostalgic (despite being too young and miserable to enjoy it), I think the community is in a healthier place now (mostly). I have had to adjust to a couple of things since coming back. One is that the content looks different now.

In my "prime" people were just getting into editing (that was a time before ReShade). Heavy editing and experimental editing were really celebrated, partly because everyone was learning and learning from each other. We just wanted to see what was possible. Now, maybe partly in reaction to that trend and how demanding it was, people have found an appreciation for the base game, simple screenshots with really only ReShade/gshade, CAS screenshots, etc. Not to say the former doesn't exist anymore because it absolutely does and people have become truly incredible at it. In some regard, it is an acquired taste especially if that's all you do. I've thought to myself many times should I stop editing the way I do, does that impact the way people take in my content? Do I have editing blindness? lol I like how I edit, I enjoy the process and, even if I do have editing blindness, I like how it looks. Even being an alpha creator, they are fewer and fewer as people opt for MM and MMix. I've thought, do people really not like alpha content anymore? Even my story at times felt like it didn't fit into the current story ethos. I thought about stopping it. I bring that all up to say, when you're coming back to a very different Simblr it can feel like what you used to make doesn't "fit in". And it might not. I don't think that should be the goal. The community now is so much more diverse, content-wise, that anything you want to make is possible. If you sacrifice your artistic vision, you'll end up leaving again. You have to make what speaks to you, regardless of the other noise.

Two, you have to find your reason for making your art. For a moment, I really lost touch with what I was even doing here. I took some time to figure it out. I first started because I wanted to tell a story that talked about intimacy through the lens of a sex worker and someone who had no romantic or sexual experience. I wanted to do this without over-sexualizing my sex worker character and infantilizing my other character. I wanted to write some of the dialogue I was having internally. Way back when that was all I wanted to do, I didn't struggle with being seen as much because I was posting with a purpose. That purpose wasn't likes or reblogs, but to tell a story and have a conversation. Everything else came after. Anyone coming back (or looking for a reason to stay) has to find, within themselves, why they want to be here and what they want to get out of it. I promise you if you reconnect with that, posting will be easier regardless of the outcome.

I know I took a lot for granted way back when. Asks about me or my characters, comments, tags, and even people wanting to join me in a Discord server or stream. Sounds like we both, a one point, wish we could go back. That just means it's something to appreciate more now. You can be and make really whatever you want, which wasn't always possible. Maybe think of coming back as a small rebirth and trust that if you keep at it, you will find your people. I am still in the process of finding mine but I trust they are out there. If you're passionate people will feel it. Best of luck and I hope something in this novel helps you! ♡

#✎ Thoughts ⭑.ᐟ #💌 Mail ⭑.ᐟ #anonymous #Long Post #I ramble I know I know #I just wanted to get all that out.

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pauiful · 5 months ago

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Art idea for any Hogwarts Legacy fan out there!

Unfortunately, my lack of artistic ability prevents me from drawing a lot of visions that pop into my head and I thoroughly enjoy admiring fanart. So in celebration of the up coming Hogwarts Legacy two year anniversary in two weeks, I thought I’d give out art project ideas to the fandom:

1. Drawing House of Gaunt or House of Sallow, family tree. I’ve seen some family trees pop up before, but would love to see more, especially Sebastian’s

2. Draw Young Solomon Sallow and Sebastian’s father. Maybe a scene depicting how diffident they were or how they get along (good or bad) in your headcanons.

3. Young Sebastian or Ominis interacting with their family. I have seen some art depicting Ominis poor childhood with the Gaunts, would love to see more. But realized I’ve not really seen any art depicting Anne and Sebastian as children with their parents.

4. MCs interaction with the Sallow family. I’d like to think that the MC would’ve continuously visited Feldcroft before the terrible incident. How would you depict those interactions?

5. More depictions on how the Sallows met Ominis

All this is also to enrich the lore of HL and create a more 3D look to the characters and their backgrounds. Hopefully this will inspire more people to draw ❤️

Also! You can use these as one shots to add to your fanfiction as well!

#sebastian sallow #hogwarts legacy #harry potter #ominis gaunt #fanart #fanfic #anne sallow

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thecomfywriter · 4 months ago

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How to deal with Imposter Syndrome as a Writer:

Blog Intro ToV Official Synopsis Buy my book Join the ToV Community! Read ToV Free

Learn to appreciate your own work:

You will never know how to accept a compliment from someone else if you cannot see the merits in your own work. You have to learn to love your work yourself first, independent from everyone else’s opinion, before you try to garner approval from them. So how do you go about this? Reread your work and try to find your favourite parts: What is a line you really enjoyed writing? DId you enjoy reading it just as much as you intended for the reader to enjoy it? Did any other lines catch your eye that, during the writing process, you didn’t even realize were so profound or impactful? What about the characters? Whose your favourite? Who makes you laugh the most? Who would you most likely be friends with? Whose very presence in a scene makes you want to commit a felony? By finding the components of your writing that evoke an emotional response from you, you allow yourself to be emotionally impacted– and by extension (hopefully) emotionally attached– to your work. Find the gems in your writing that make your book the favourite on your future shelf. Art and Moodboards! Create art (doodles, sketches, paintings) for your ocs, certain scenes in your books, settings, landscapes, aesthetics, outfits, or all of the above! Moodboards using Pinterest and Shuffle also help if you don’t want to draw, or commissions from artists. Lowkey, I’d be down to open commissions for oc artwork in the writeblr community, but idk i’m just throwing stuff out there. The point is, plenty of artists and writers offer their services to draw, or you can take up the skill yourself and give it a shot! The point of this is to get yourself excited for your writing. Why? That brings me to my next point. Treat your book like it’s already published with an established fandom, and you’re its biggest fan? What kind of fan behaviour are you engaging in? Headcanons? Incorrect quotes? Character edits? Song designation to certain scenes or ocs? Fanfics of fluff scenes? Guess what, chief? You’re the author. Not only do you get to do all that stuff, but it gets to be canon if you want it to be. Or, you can be like me and gatekeep an entire wiki page in your Notion/the drafts for no one to see unless they beg for it. It’s your perogative. But be your biggest fan until someone else comes along, recognizes your passion, and challenges you for that title.

Share your work, and your reactions to your work:

Everything we just did in tip one, I want you to go ahead and share it on your writeblr. Let the community see how much you care about this project of yours. The parts that make you cry; the parts that wrench your heart out,; the parts that were so cinematically aesthetic, you just HAD to draw it. Let the community see not only the fruits of your labour, but the ones you found sweet enough to call nectar. Let them feast on that ambrosia and join the fandom.

Accept feedback graciously:

It’s never easy getting criticism on your work. Whether its positive or negative feedback, the most important thing to do is not react to it defensively. Instead, thank the person who took time out of their day to try and help you fine-tune your craft by giving you tips to improve it. Then, reflect on the feedback and how it aligns or misaligns with your vision. Is this feedback derailing the intentions you have as a creator? If so, how do you try to incorporate the advice so that you are able to stay true to your vision and represent it in a way that allows readers to appreciate it the same way you do.

The most important part of receiving feedback is being open to it. If you close yourself off to changing your work or others’ opinions, you are limiting your potential for growth. Assume the best of intentions from people who comment on your work, and take it with a grain of salt when applying it to your project. Ultimately, you know your project best, but the community will try to help you enhance your work to make it better. The best thing you can do for the trajectory of your writing career is take what they say– not to heart, but to the mind for further reflection.

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I genuinely don’t know how this turned into a toolbox post LMAO. I had another post in queue today, but I saw this reblog and had to respond. If you guys have any additional tips, comment below! It’s always a join to help the community out, since I know how much we all deal with this.

Obviously, since I made the og post, I deal with it too. But these tips are what help me trust myself and my writing, and affirm to myself that no matter how undeserving I feel of praise, my book is good enough. And most importantly, I enjoy it.

I’ll link the rest of my TCW toolbox posts down below, which has a section of affirmations for writers. Anyway– go buckwild! Go crazy! Cheerios!

Happy Writing! :)

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#thecomfywriter toolbox #thecomfywriter #writing community #writing #writers on tumblr #wip #writerblr #writers #writers blog #writblr #writeblr #writer's tips #writerbl's block

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friskyrisk · 11 months ago

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[BIG BOY POST + I DON'T KNOW ANYTHING DON'T LISTEN TO ME] I have to preface this with a HUGEEE disclaimer that an unhealthy workplace is never acceptable, and that the culture of a company being shit is almost *always* the fault and neglect of leadership. That out of the way, as an avid pm fan its impossible to avoid the conversations that have been occurring about PM as a company, and after Ji-Hoon Kim's live stream, these conversations sort of converged on his role in the company and his lack of aptitude as CEO. Second disclaimer, I'm not here to glaze Ji-Hoon as an unassailable god, I think its clear to anyone keeping an eye on whats been happening that he's very suspectable to shitty mistakes. But what's bothered me, and the whole point of this post I guess, is the tone of some of the criticism addressed to him. People have sort of defaulted to the way they talk about every other irresponsible or greedy CEO when talking about him, but I think that misses a lot of important context that's vital to understanding why these things keep happening. Ji-Hoon did not go to university for business communications, or entrepreneurship, or any other fields related to heading a company. Ji-Hoon attended Ajou University for 4 years as a *game developer*, and as a scenario writer for all three PM games, he seemed to have a passion for writing as well. That is to say, Ji-Hoon Kim is an artist. Being a game director and writer are both creative positions, and from my research, he seems to have no prior experience in any other fields. The reason why this distinction is so important is because a lot of the discussion has been directed at PM's treatment of its artists, rightfully so, but its also been tinged by the preconception of CEO's as people who care for profits and growth, often to the detriment of the artists that work under them [A preconception that historically has been proven accurate, BUT only because these people are brought in by a board of directors from the business world] It also largely explains Ji-Hoon's almost nonchalance towards the company, and his controversial statement about wanting to "run it as a club". To many people, this sounded eerily like the corporate "we're all family" excuse that's often given to mistreat workers, but looking at Ji-Hoon's background, and how he started PM as a passion project between 7 people with his scholarship money, as an actual creative, it very much comes across to me as naivety, not malice.

This doesn't abdicate Ji-Hoon completely, and in fact, makes him culpable in other ways. PM has grown to a team of 45 people- its safe to say that it needs leadership from a business savvy, [hopefully] ethical CEO, and that Ji-Hoon simply does not have the tools in his skillset to provide that. However, his work and vision are still vital to Project Moon, and I'd love to see him shift to a position that still has creative control, but that separates him from the business and leadership aspects for the workers and his own good. I'm still quite fond of 300 lunacy man, and I think a CEO as passionate as him has its sets of advantages, but I think he's understandably out of his depth here, and I just hope that a conclusion where all parties are satisfied can reached.

holy yap sesh imma go play demon souls now

#pm #project moon #limbus company #limbus #this is my second tumblr post ever idk how to tag things #am i doing it right guys

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hplonesomeart · 7 months ago

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Hey!! So turns out a video I made between a certain “well beloved but highly sensitive/emotionally reactive T.V” and an “orange haired inkling-turned-human” has managed to sweep my YouTube channel and accumulate 100k VIEWS!! THAT’S A LOT OF PEOPLE ACTUALLY?? My most widely viewed video EVER to exist in this moment in time?? AAAAA?? Not even mentioning the various comments and staggering increase in subs! It’s so much more then what I expected or even prepared for—might even be the most impactful thing to happen for me this year <3

…aside from graduating high school + the social connections I’ve been fortunate to make lol

BUT THE POINT IS I’d been closely monitoring the YouTube growth through the entirety of October. It’s make me smile like a dork, gawk in astonishment, dance frantically in my room from the energy boosts, and grow courage to stop being so selective/self-conscious with what I wish to share with the world! It’s kept my ambitions going!

I needed to find some way to celebrate the occasion and express my thanks—because I can’t NOT acknowledge this milestone jksjskp. Typically I try to avoid getting tunnel visioned focusing on the metrics/numbers. Mr. Puzzles had already demonstrated how much those things can mess with the minds of creatives. Caring too much about chasing views or placing your artistic value in attention seeking gets damaging. But at same time…it’s hard to deny the sense of pride the 100k achievement has filled me with. I understand that reaching 100k views doesn’t immediately make me any “better” or “worse” then I was before. I’m still just me! It only helps me feel seen by others—and that’s all I really needed. To hear some nice words & receive reminders that my ideas are cared about. So thank you SMG4 fandom for that, seriously thank you.

Please accept this Mr. Puzzle drawing as a way of sharing the happiness around. He’s so entertaining. Love him for simply existing. So glad we can all collectively be super attached to him (and the rest of the SMG4 cast of course). Can’t wait to see more incredible artworks from the fandom :)

Just incase anyone is confused by my vague description over which “animated video” I’m referring to here—hopefully this photo will help clarify lol. It’s this one!! Sorry about not outright stating the title at the start, I got carried away with writing!!

I’ve been in an odd place mentally when thinking about it. Wondering to myself if any of the attention is deserved considering it’s not even fully colored and could be dismissed as “low effort” content (despite taking several days making it). It’s easy to get into a trap of comparing yourself to others and questioning how much of the videos success is based on your skills, sheer algorithm luck, or only because you used popular characters and catered to a specific fandom. And then judging yourself by looking at other peoples videos. I’ve seen several artists post higher quality works then my own but it somehow gets less views. So why did mine succeed when others (who should have gotten just as much attention if not more) didn’t? Sometimes you feel like you’ve unfairly robbed them of that chance to be seen. However I’ve realized that I can’t ever expect views to be consistent—and comparing is pointless. So why worry about it or feel inadequate? I mean it’s pretty common for funny cat videos to go viral, so who am I to question the system lol. “Popular” YouTube videos can range from a passion project which took 7+ artists…to a clip of Toad singing Chandelier or a nonsensical Vine sketch. Anything can happen when it’s the internet! And just-so-happened my video was chosen. I should stay glad about that and get rid of all the overanalyzing. So that’s what I’ve chosen to do :)

#OKAY SO SO SO actually started doodling this once the video was around 98k this morning #it wasn’t even meant to be art specifically designed to celebrate the milestone at first #I just wanted to draw the funky fella who makes me laugh #but as you can see that changed up fast jksjksp #I was under the impression that my video wouldn’t reach near 100k until December UH?? WHAT HAPPENED MY PREDICTION THWARTED??#seems I’ve severally underestimated how long the traction would continue for geez wow uh #people sure do enjoy comedy gotta love ‘em laughs and giggles #I CAN’T BELIEVE WE REACHED IT THO. THAT’S INSANE TO ME—ALL THE SUPPORT AND COMMENTS AND SUBS #thank you SMG4 fandom I would’ve never fathomed the algorithm to carry it so far like this #you wanna know the real kicker?#things would have gone so differently for the channel if I didn’t wrestle with my anxiety & post there #because there was a point during that day where I fullheartedly figured it would cause me to loose subs #I was kinda terrified ngl #this goes to show that you should never hold yourself back from sharing different aspects of your interests #you don’t need to confine yourself to just one thing #or to strive only to make the most high quality videos ever (I put that pressure on myself a bit too much nowadays)#sometimes it’s the simple ideas that manage to charm people #and those who see the effort will stick around to support you. You just need to trust yourself during the process and take that chance :)#EWWWW MUSHY GUSHY SENTIMENTALITY CLOGGING UP THE ATTENTION HERE #whatever happened to keeping the focus on ✨the star✨ who made it all possible to begin with huuuu??#show a bit more gratitude to the charming TV who boosted the viewership in the first place…don’t be so self absorbed with morals lonesome 😒#what is this some sort of My Little Pony episode oh pleaseeeeee 🙄#<- all of that was a simulation of Puzzles interjecting and nagging a bit lol. I’d imagine he’s tried of my nonstop nonsense #….yea the Puzzle brainrot is reaching maximum severities. So there’s high chance I’ll be animating him more down the line :3 #stick around to find out!!#hplonesome art

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