#it's ruining art and my mood specifically

[yujeong]

idk if you still keep up with 4 min events after the series but the issue with the photos of fuaiz for the charity auction makes me so mad. the composition of his photos were by far my favourite (jes being a close second) and they do not deserve to be shelved forever.

he really embodied the theme of the photoshoot very well and we can see that he and the team worked really hard to bring tonkla's mindset to the photos. he's really talented and i hope the fans will allow him to have his own autonomy in future. sorry for rambling, i'm just so upset.

I debated over sharing the news on Tumblr, because I've been blocked by people for bringing negativity into the main tags in the past and I don't want to be negative on here, but this issue is too important not to mention, so thank you anon for giving me the chance. In case any of you didn't know, BOC hired Apo as the Creative Director for a 4 Minutes themed photoshoot in which all the actors got their pictures taken as the characters they played in the show. The themes were "sexy" and "cool", as Apo said himself - he asked the actors what their definition of those terms was, and collaborated with them in order to bring those vibes out and into the photos. All the photos will be part of an auction, both online and offline at the Fancon event they have on Saturday, and all the proceeds will be donated to the Institute of HIV Research and Innovation (IHRI). All hell broke loose when Fuaiz reacted to his photos in a short clip BOC shared. People went crazy on Twitter, tagging BOC cursing them for "grooming a child", tagging Apo to tell him "Fuaiz is an actor, not a pornstar", tagging Fuaiz himself for reasons I can't even fathom, and so on and so forth. This resulted in Fuaiz announcing on a live they did for the online auction yesterday that his photos won't be shared, that he consented, that it was his vision of Tonkla, that it was Tonkla in the photos and not himself and that he wanted to do this for charity, which was the point of the auction in the first place. You can hear Bible's translation of Fuaiz's words here. I am disgusted, and angry, and very very sad that so many people decided Fuaiz wasn't allowed to express his artistic vision, that he wasn't allowed to participate in this beautiful event, that his work was supposed to not even exist at all because.... something something pedophiles, something something protect your artist. Let me be very clear here: this is homophobic. Infantilizing a grown up who consented and who had his parents consent as well, because he's "only 18" to have pictures taken AS THE CHARACTER HE EMBODIED AND NOT HIMSELF, pictures which show a nipple and an aroused expression mind you, is homophobic. Calling gay sexual desire portrayed artistically in a photo porn is homophobic. Implying said photos ruin the actor's image and make him vulnerable to predators and pedophiles is homophobic. You're not protecting anyone with this behaviour. You're not morally correct for ruining an actor's hard work and denying him work opportunities. Neither Fuaiz nor Apo deserved this, and it's the second time BOC had to cave under pressure from entitled fans who have no idea about anything and all they do is hate, hate, hate. I'm appalled and very fucking mad. I genuinely hope Fuaiz is okay after this, and that he gets as many opportunities as he can in the future. He deserves every single one of them.

[ghoul--doodle]

Going through old art feels semi decent rn so I apologise for any spam incoming

[semothekat]

head in hands heand in hands

[youcanthandelthetruth]

My little brother declared himself the foremost #1 world expert on jackalopes when he was 8. He'd talk about them constantly, pretend he knew everything about their life cycle and habits. He said they ate only Scooby Snacks, because Scooby Doo was his other big obsession at the time. He especially loved that horrible little nephew dog, it drove me crazy. We went to Six Flags one year and he absolutely ruined the entire trip by talking about jackalopes nonstop because he knew it was annoying me, I was so mad. It's funny, how now that he's gone I remember that day with such fondness.

As an adult he uhhhhh acquired two plates that had been used in the officer's quarters of the real life USS Enterprise, because he knew I love Star Trek. He felt they'd be better appreciated in my possession and so I own them now and the US military just doesn't know where two of their plates went.

As soon as I saw @claypigeonpottery 's art and their jackalopes I knew they were the right person to make something to complete the set. This was an emotionally intense process for me because I needed an extremely specific mood and finished product. I was asking for a physical representation of my memories of my dead brother as a child. And they absolutely knocked it out of the park. Here is a jackalope, looking up at the stars, with scooby snacks at its feet. I love it.

[dyinbymistake]

male fantasy

i got a call from a girl i used to know,

we were inseparable years ago.

constance evermore.

oh how billie loved that girl when she was a teenager, she loved her so much she wished she could’ve held onto her tighter and never let her go into the bad world they lived in alone.

constance and billie were close friends growing up, both of the two bonded over having a interest in the musical arts. as billie had said many times, one of her choir teachers never liked her, but he did like constance which is a reason for bringing the two so close.

and ever since the friendship blossomed. throughout the whole beginning of her career constance was there. never leaving billie’s side until an argument drove the two of them to fall apart. constance was so hurt and betrayed and yet billie was feeling the same way. so bad she mentioned it briefly in a song or two.

and it was all over a stupid boy

and that was years ago, it was now october 20, 2024, specifically 12:21 am. constance was in west hollywood with a few friends at some random party, she had no clue who’s it was but she didn’t care until someone behind her mentioned billie now she didn’t even wanna be there, so she left.

the thing was they never said billie was at the party. just the mention of her name ruined her mood. it’s been five fucking years since they last talked and she wasn’t over it. i mean how could she be? half the internet knows verses from male fantasy is about her.

and tv is one thousand percent about her. she knows it herself, everyone does. but no one knows why. everyday those two nights the songs were based on were on her mind and it always brought her to tears.

guilt never leaving and she just wished she never made that phone call. maybe she would’ve been long moved on by now.

like billie was.

constance shivered as she sat on the curb and her cheeks stained with tears mixed with mascara and glitter.

straight out of euphoria type shit

DECEMBER 6, 2018

constance sat next to the blue haired girl. her legs rested on top of her best friend. the two were backstage of a concert billie was invited to. and unfortunately her boyfriend was there.

much to billie’s dismay. constance and q didn’t get along, like ever. but billie being billie never let anyone tell her anything. so constance always kept her thoughts to herself because she hated when billie was mad at her.

but this time she couldn’t take it anymore. the way, billie was sulking in her seat, looking border than ever because it was supposed to be a date, then he invited friends, so she invited constance and it pissed the younger girl off. billie didn’t deserve this.

“i mean like, doesn’t he clearly see i’m bored? connie do i look happy?” the redhead looked at her, out of habit, the first thing she does is admire her best friends face before she nods.

“you and i are equally bored, who even is the performer again?” billie sighed and shrugged “i have no fucking clue, wanna go look for food or some shit? q ate my taco bell”

constance rolled her eyes at that but stood up anyway. she smiled at the girl in front of her as she reached her hands out for her to grab. “maybe they have vegan food”

“hopefully, fries kinda sound good right now though” constance nodded in agreement.

the two sat on the couch eating their shared fries when q walked over, his first instinct was to give constance a dirty look which didn’t go unseen by her, she returned the look to which billie caught this time.

“constance.” she warned, the girl only rolled her eyes. don’t make her mad. she reminded herself. but it continued the whole night.

constantly throwing dirty looks and making comments billie would ignore.

and she couldn’t take it anymore when billie went to the bathroom and q decided to speak up when it wasn’t wanted. “so, when are you leaving? it’s supposed to be me and billie tonight .. and you’re kinda ruining the vibe” constance froze and slowly looked up at him.

“excuse me? i’m ruining it? you brought your stupid friends, if we wanna be dumb then blame it on something else but i am not ruining this, you did. and just so you know this is a horrible birthday date idea. billie deserves better so do fucking better asshole”

he stared at her in shock and disbelief, every few seconds his eyes shifted from her to behind her. “what the fuck are you looking at?” she turned frustrated, her eyes widened when they met billie’s angry ones.

“bil..” she began, but the girl was already walking away, constance rushed after her.

“billie stop.” “what the fuck was that? why would you yell at him like that, he did nothing wrong constance!” she scoffed under her breath, billie’s ocean eyes glaring at her.

“you seriously cannot be mad at me, bil i did nothing but defend you and myself, i wasn’t lying when i said you deserve better! i mean look at this? the concert hasn’t even started and he brought his friends like really?”

“never did i need or ask you to defend me so just stop! he’s my boyfriend, as my best friend you should respect that. if you have a crush on me and you’re trying to break us up just say that” “you cannot be fucking serious”

billie shrugged her shoulders, her face blank while constance stared at her, arms crossed and in disbelief. billie’s eyes avoided hers knowing she’d immediately see how hurt constance looked.

but billie wasn’t in the wrong right?

“you’re my best friend, i don’t have a crush on you. i’m sorry for trying to be a good friend but maybe i’m done trying, so go back to your boyfriend, i’m going home. text me when you realize how fucked you sound”

she never texted, constance didn’t reach out either. both too stubborn to text each other. it went on for a whole year of this.

billie hated it, she hated everything going on. she regretted that night a lot, looking back on it now that she was older and matured. she was one thousand percent in the wrong.

so when constance called, a year later, she thought she’d be able to apologize. but she didn’t, the call felt like six seconds long.

JANUARY 6, 2020

billie didn’t speak much. “tell your fans to leave me alone” was all that was said. billie felt stupid for thinking it could’ve been that she missed her and wanted billie to apologize.

but maybe billie should’ve just reached out first like she was supposed to. “uhm, i don’t know what you’re-” “they’re harassing me still because they still think we’re privately dating and that i cheated or something because i posted my boyfri - billie just speak out” constance sighed in frustration.

the blonde’s heart fluttered remembering how they were so close everyone genuinely thought they were together. and maybe billie did have a crush on constance, maybe she pushed her away because that scared her so she convinced herself constance was wrong.

she’d never been with a girl before, her first kiss was constance, but, they were thirteen and just wanted to practice’. and for some reason hearing that constance was in a relationship hurt.

if she wasn’t a bitch that day, constance wouldn’t be getting harassed because maybe her and billie could’ve been more.

“uhm, i’ll - i’m sorry i’ll say something on my story” she stuttered over her words, constance was silent before a small thank you was heard. “how have you been connie? i heard that you - you model right? for prada”

“i didn’t call to talk like that billie, i have to go. just say something on your story”

thought we’d get along, but it wasn’t so

[g1rld1ary]

I feel like you’d eat up this idea so much but Camp Counselor James Potter!!

Where its semi frenemies to lovers after James unexpectedly becomes head camp counselor alongside reader, thus forcing them closer as they have to work together. I’d imagine James as a sports/swim instructor who the campers adore and reader as an arts and crafts teacher who James has liked for years since they met at camp (even before they became counselors.)

summer friends - camp counselor!james potter x camp counselor!reader

wc: 2816

cw: swearing, implied fem!r but i don't think any pronouns, alcohol, throwing up (once)

part TWO

first of all thank u so much for the compliment anon i hope i am doing it justice!! i actually love this idea and so there's gonna be more parts because i have so many fun lil camp ideas already HOWEVER we don't rlly have summer camps where I'm from so if u wanna see anything specific (activity/trope etc) please request!!! love u xoxo

It was stinking hot already. The clock in your car was broken so you weren't sure exactly what time it was, but you were sure it was too early to have sweat dripping from your brow. Nine, maybe. Still, nothing could bring down your present mood, not the sweat, not the early morning on a weekend, not even that your Fleetwood Mac CD kept skipping during The Chain. No, you were in the best mood you'd been in in a while and nothing could ruin it.

You were headed back to camp. Your camp. It was your first year as head counselor at the camp you'd grown up in and you were filled to the brim with excitement and drive to make this summer as magical as the ones you had growing up. Pulling into the dirt parking space you sighed contently, glad to be back where you belonged.

It was weird to see the camp almost empty. You'd been a general counselor before so you'd seen the camp without kids, but being one of the first there in the morning was peaceful. You waved cheerfully at one of the cooks who'd been working since you were a kid, laughing as he tried to return the gesture over the boxes he was hustling into the kitchen.

You broke into a jog to catch up with the camp director who you needed to meet with, smiling widely when he greeted you. You made small talk as he led you around the camp, giving directions to some of the staff setting up in between his extended spiel explaining your duties. You really were trying to listen but you couldn't help your eyes darting to each movement in the corner of your vision. The other head counselor should have been here already, and it wasn't like him to be late. Michael was one of the many kids you'd grown up with through summers, and he was just as devoted to camp as you were, so it wasn't surprising he also made head counselor, but it was surprising that he was now late.

"Where's Michael?" You asked when the director took a breath. He turned to look at you, one eyebrow raised slightly.

"Didn't we tell you? Michael had a health scare, he can't work this summer." You could feel your mouth hanging open. The two of you had been talking about this for years, dreaming of becoming the head counselors.

"So who's—"

"Nothing like the fresh air, is there?" Your shoulders tensed just by the timbre of it, you could recognise that voice anywhere.

"Potter," You turned to greet him, ponytail swinging behind you.

"No need for last names, love, I saw your braces phase," James retorts and you huff, rolling your eyes dramatically.

"Yeah, yeah, and I've got pictures of your acne. So you're really my partner this summer?" James didn't bother replying, his cocky grin saying it all. You felt the director's eyes on both of you and refrained from another snip in fear of it undermining your leadership, but still shot James a dead-eyed smile to let him know you weren't done.

You were dismissed to settle in until the other counselors arrived for briefing after a few other business matters (for which both you and James stayed civil and responsible) and all but ran to your car, eager to get the moving in part over with as quick as possible.

After so many years of making camp your home away from home, you'd pretty much nailed the routine of packing and unpacking, and your part of the four-girl cabin was taking shape very nicely if you did say so yourself. You even had time to stick up the photos you'd printed out, which usually took at least a week to happen. You were just wiping the sweat off your face with the hem of your t-shirt when someone cleared their throat. You didn't need to guess who it was.

James was leaning against the doorframe, looking unfairly unperturbed by the heat.

"Sorry your dream boy couldn't be here," He said and you couldn't quite tell if he was joking.

"Michael and I—"

"Relax, I was talking about your real boyfriend, remember?" You paused at his statement, studying your painted fingers intently.

"We broke up," You said quietly, not daring to look at James in fear of him teasing you about it. You consequently missed the flash of curiosity (and maybe relief) that passed across his features.

"Sorry," He said awkwardly, still under the doorframe.

"It's fine. He's a dickhead."

"I could have told you that last summer!" He laughed, then slapped a hand over his mouth as he realised it might have been too far. You managed a small laugh yourself, if only to make him feel better about his misstep.

"Yeah, yeah. Last summer you also thought swallowing gum would fuse your insides together."

"And I stand by that! You should just learn to listen to me," He crowed, eyes sparkling with mischief. You rolled your eyes again, pushing yourself off the bed to reapply your deodorant.

"If I ever start listening to you, take it as a sign I'm losing my marbles," You said, ducking under the arm James had stretched across the doorframe, "Now come on, everyone'll be arriving." You don't stop to see if he's following, marching out of your cabin and toward the dining hall where the counselors would convene. James watched you go for a moment with a soft grin before jogging to catch up and bother you some more.

The dining hall was already buzzing with energy and noise and the campers hadn’t even arrived yet. You smiled as you watched the counselors meet and mingle, some of them being kids you’d grown up with almost your whole life.

“Everything the light touches is our kingdom,” James’ whisper appeared from behind you.

“You are so lame.” You don’t bother looking at him, convinced you knew exactly what face he’d be pulling. “Now make yourself useful and greet everyone.” You might have been a little rude, but it was clear to you that this job wasn’t nearly as important to James as it was to you. Head counselor was something you’d been working towards since you’d started at camp, and you would like to keep the gig through college if James didn’t ruin it for you.

A booming noise silenced the room, and you were surprised to know it came from James. He started off the address for you outlining all the boring housekeeping notices you could recite in your sleep. They were almost exactly the same every year, except for James’ insistence on being the funniest in the room and making jokes after every other statement.

“As you know if you find any contraband in the camper’s belongings report it to the camp director, especially if it’s an illicit substance, as there may be serious discipline. However, if it’s alcohol, slip into into my cabin ‘coz god knows I’ll need a drink after dealing with the kids and this one.” He gestured over to you, receiving a ripple of laughter throughout the room. You grit your teeth, trying not to react and be the bad cop of camp.

“Just so we’re all clear,” You faked a laugh, “None of the campers or counselors will be ingesting or posessing alcohol while at camp. Right guys?” You locked eyes with the camp director, trying to bring him down from the conniption he was on the verge of. It worked, mostly, and you took over from James, shooting him a warning glare as you rushed to finish listing off the timetable for the coming evening and next day as campers arrived.

In his defence though, James wasn’t exactly wrong. Although the camp director could never ever find out for the sake of all your jobs, there was definitely a stash of alcohol that all the counselors contributed to and had access to, though strictly when there was no risk of campers or higher ups finding out. Like tonight. Every year before the campers arrived the counselors held a campfire right out in the forest; far enough away that there was almost no risk of the adult-adults finding them, but close enough that drunk walks back to the cabin weren’t quite impossible.

That brought you to the campfire. You’d been stuck in meetings and doing last minute admin all night and you really needed the break. You could only look at schedules and spreadsheets for so long anyway, add James to the mix and you were going absolutely crazy.

You’d snagged a spot next to Lily, hugging her tight as you reunited.

“I can’t believe you’re stuck with Potter,” She said, taking a sip from some ungodly drink one of the counselors had mixed. You laughed as you pulled away and greeted Remus quickly, taking the can of cider he offered.

“I’m just thanking my lucky stars it wasn’t him three years ago.” You shook your head resolutely, “At least now I’m sure he’s human. I just hate that he’s gonna make me bad cop all summer.” Remus cocked his head in confusion and Lily asked for clarification so you continued.

“You know, James is always the funny one, James is always the chill one. I’m the one who’s gonna have to spoil the fun and enforce the rules.”

“That’s not true though, you might be the one sticking to the rules but you’ve been here just as long. Everyone knows and loves you, and you’ll have just as much fun even if you aren’t quite as go-with-the-flow,” Lily said, a comforting hand resting on your arm.

“Prongs might surprise you,” Remus said, clearly taking a different approach, “I think when it matters he’ll step up to the plate.” You looked at him for a moment, considering his philosophy. You chanced a glance over at James to see him halfway through a game of beer pong — losing badly in fact, and sighed. If he, the head sport and swim counselor, was losing at a game consisting of throwing then he must’ve already been smashed.

He caught your eye at just the wrong (or right) moment and waved you over with such excitement that you excused yourself from the conversation to see what he wanted.

“Sirius needs a teammate,” He said simply, gesturing for you to go over and play. You shook you head furiously.

“So you’re asking the arts and crafts leader? I have zero coordination.”

“Yeah, and? You’re competitive and that’s all that matters. Consider it our head counselor bonding time.” You looked at James for a moment, weighing out the pros and cons in your head. You figured it couldn’t be that bad even if you embarrassed yourself, and you really didn’t want the other counselors to think you had a stick up your arse after getting the position. So, you reciprocated the high five Sirius had offered and got in position.

The game went shit, as could have been assumed. You really didn’t have an ounce of coordination, your throws missing most of the cups. Sirius was better, making your team at least not totally hopeless, but the two of you were no match for the machines that were James and Marlene — though both significantly worsened by their inebriated states. You were providing the trash talk though, which seemed to keep everyone entertained

“Ok new game!” James clapped after you’d downed the last drink, “Sirius, switch with me.”

“What! But I like my partner!” You high-fived Sirius again at his declaration, now sufficiently buzzed from the shitty beer you’d been using.

“Yeah, we’re doing just fine, Potter. Worry about yourself.” It came out a bit louder and more aggressive than you intended, but James didn’t seem to mind — none of you were sober enough to be picking up on the intricacies of human communication. James mimed a stab to his heart dramatically.

“You kill me,” He groaned, leaning on the folding table in despair. You laughed loudly, holding up your hand in the shape of an L to rub it in. After rubbing it in for a moment you conceded, stomping your way to his side of the table, patting Marlene on the shoulder as you swapped places.

“Alright, Potter, let’s get this round over with so I can kick your arse again.” James’ grin was practically blinding as he brightened up, getting ready to play another match. You might’ve been getting a little too competitive, but it was camp and you were drunk, so everyone around the table was matching your energy tenfold.

“Are you actually capable of getting a ball in a cup? You’re genuinely so terrible at this,” James laughed as he said it but you took it personally, shoving him aside.

“Piss off, dickhead. Just because you’re a big shot athlete or whatever.” You must have finally struck a nerve in James as he was quiet for the rest of the game, still much more skilled than you but his energy significantly dampened. Even when you won, he only offered you a weak smile and a pathetic high five. You felt bad for a moment and opened your mouth to apologise, but your inebriated brain was distracted by music playing, running over to Lily to ask her to dance.

You were at the stage of being drunk where everything was perfect. The day’s heat had mellowed out into a dreamy summer night, a soft breeze rustling the leaves above you all as you danced and drank, reuniting after a long year apart.

You might’ve overdone it slightly though, which found you a little ways away from the rest of the party, emptying your stomach into a bush where hopefully none of the campers would stumble across it. Looking past your unfortunate accident you caught a glimpse of a dark shape on the bank of the river. Narrowing your eyes you tried to make out who it was, but settled on getting closer instead. You hesitated when you made it out to be James.

“Hey, Potter. You alright?” You called awkwardly, a little unwilling to get too close.

“Hm?” He looked back at you, voice uncharacteristically quiet. “Yeah, fine.” You sighed. He was clearly upset about something and you couldn’t just end the conversation there, no matter how much you didn’t want to have a DnM with James Potter on night one of camp.

Reluctantly you got closer, taking a seat next to him. You watched the lake for a few minutes, black except for the silver from the moon. It was peaceful when there weren’t so many people around, it was one of your favourite things about camp, just being outside and disconnected from the rest of your life.

James broke the silence first.

“Do you… Are you mad that I’m co-head counselor?” You chanced a glance at him, surprised at the vulnerability in his voice. James wasn’t usually one to get sappy or personal like that, especially not with you.

“No?” You replied, “It wasn’t what I imagined, obviously, but it’s not like I hate you. You’re just mildly infuriating like 80% of the time.” James snorted, and you got the feeling he’d intended to wallow a bit longer. But James was James and he couldn’t stay moody for too long, it wasn’t in his nature.

“I can work with that.” He smiled his blinding grin, and you could have sworn you could see it reflecting off the water.

“We have to be a team though,” You affirmed; now was as good a time as any for you to address it. “I know that your whole bright and lively class clown thing is effortless for you, but I don’t wanna be the bad cop all the time, okay?” James was deep in thought for a second, then a cheeky grin crept onto his features.

“You think I’m bright and lively?”

“Shut up.” You rolled your eyes, but you weren’t sure you weren’t returning his smile. “Come on, let’s get to bed. Neither of us can afford to be hungover when the kids get here.”

You and James wandered back towards the cabins, both hazy and giggly from the lasting drunkenness and the (at least temporary) smoothing over of your tenuous relationship.

PART TWO

[localplaguenurse]

Falling Head over Heels (Pantalone X Male Reader) pt 9

More fic! More fanart! A meme! Thank you once again @your-local-furby, yes I AM going to link back to your art every time. Get appreciated loser (affectionate).

Also, all future chapters are going to link back to the masterlist for this fic! You'll also find the ao3 link there, and I'm going to link the art made for the fic there as well once I've got everything posted.

@thedeimoshimself @eli-chris

“You’re honest to god hopeless,” Alik says, “I hate to say it, but you are.”

You hear Tartaglia, number Eleven, laugh at your attempt to hide your embarrassment in your hands. “Twice, twice, how did I do this twice?”

“Didn’t you almost trip on Pulcinella forever ago?”

“That was Pavel, and he was drunk at the time.”

“So you haven’t tripped over him yet, gotcha.”

You groan in irritation before finally lifting your head up out of your hands. Straight ahead is Alik, who is taking delight in your newfound tendency to trip into members of the Fatui. In the corner of your vision, you can make out a partial profile of Tartaglia, your latest victim, sitting next to you. In front of him is the drink you bought him as an apology. You cannot see his face fully, and you are so embarrassed that you’re actually very thankful for that fact.

“Does your friend do that a lot?” Tartaglia asks.

“Running into people, or specifically Harbingers?” Alik asks in turn.

“Harbingers.”

“More than the average person should, I think.”

Tartaglia laughs. “You said twice, right? I would say it’s more than average for sure, especially if you’re still alive to tell the tale!” 

“Oh come on, the others can’t be that bad, can they?” Alik jests.

“Depends on the Harbinger,” Tartaglia says, “and depends more on their mood. I would say the Knave, the Captain, and Mayor Pulcinella would be the most forgiving, though honestly, it feels like Arlecchino can be fifty-fifty some days.”

You catch Alik’s sly smirk. “What about the Regrator? Is he forgiving at all?”

“Well, yes and no,” Tartaglia answers. “He’ll forgive you if you can make it up to him in some way.”

Alik turns their smile to you. “Lucky you.”

You see the Harbinger turn his head towards you, and you turn your head so you can see his face. “Wait, you…?” Suddenly, his dull blue eyes widen in recognition, and he grins. “It was you! You’re the one who spilled wine all over his new suit!”

“... I see my reputation precedes me,” is all you can muster.

Tartaglia continues. “It was all he talked about for the next week, how he hadn’t even owned it that long and already it was ruined, how much of a pain getting the stains out would be, and a lot of figuring out how much he should bill you for it. I was surprised he didn’t bill you for the whole suit!”

“The shirt was fairly expensive,” you say.

“Still, with how annoyed he was all week, I thought making you pay the entire dry cleaning bill was the least he would do. He’ll also tack on what some of the lower ranking agents have dubbed ‘the asshole tax,’ or the ‘inconvenience fee,’ as he would rather people call it.”

That actually gets a bit of a chuckle out of you.

Tartaglia leans props his head up in his gloved hands, giving you an inquisitive look and a smile that doesn’t quite reach his eyes. “So, do tell, what made him take pity on you?”

“It was an accident.”

This makes the Harbinger laugh. “No, no seriously, why?”

“... It was an accident.”

He shakes his head. “Pantalone doesn’t believe in accidents, he says they’re the result of negligence from people who should know better.”

“Just tell him you’re blind already,” Alik blurts out.

Tartaglia blinks. “What?”

“I’m legally blind,” you explain, “I have no peripheral vision, so I bumped into Pantalone and spilled wine on him because he wasn’t in my direct line of sight. I think he only made me pay for the shirt because he went on a rant about how foolish I am before my mother explained my condition to him.”

“Well, that’s certainly a new one,” Tartaglia comments, “he rarely takes pity on people, save for extreme cases.”

You take a swig of your beer instead of replying.

“Say, Tartaglia,” Alik says, prompting the young man to turn his attention away from you, “what else can you tell us about Pantalone?”

You shoot Alik a look. Tartaglia doesn’t see it, and you can hear the smile in his voice. “While I’m enjoying this little chat with you two, I’m afraid I can’t disclose too much about my more high ranking coworkers to anyone.”

“I’m not asking about his big plans for the bank or anything,” Alik says, “we just want to, I don’t know, learn some general information? Like what are some of his hobbies, or his favourite foods. Things to know if you want to get closer to him.”

“And why do you want to get to know him?”

“Oh, I don’t.” Alik points at you. “He does.”

You feel heat spread across your face, and it gets worse when Tartaglia looks your way, very intrigued. “Is that so?”

“I-I think I’m okay,” you state, “he and I, I mean I don’t know if we’re friends, b-but we get along fairly well! He’s partnered w-with my father, so I tend to run into him a lot, and we actually had tea the other day. Or, we were supposed to, but my parents decided to show up, so then after they left h-he and I had dinner so–”

“Pause,” Alik says, “you did not mention having dinner with him.”

“I didn’t?”

“No, you didn’t.”

“I told you we still spent time after the ruined tea party,” you say, “does it matter if it was over dinner?”

“Pantalone doesn’t usually invite people to stay for dinner,” Tartaglia states, “I of all people should know.”

“He only did it because he wanted to discuss my book with me,” you explain, “but my parents’ intrusion hindered that. So he invited me to stay later.”

When Alik and Tartaglia look at you, they are both equally skeptical. You feel your face get hotter, and take another swig of your cold drink to cool yourself down. Then you remember it’s alcohol, so if anything it’s going to warm your face up even more. You stand up. “I’m going to the washroom,” you state, intending to splash water on your face and get out of the awkward situation you’ve put yourself in.

“Try not to bump into anyone else,” Tartaglia jokes, making your face burn hotter. When you walk away, you bump into a table, but that could just be the alcohol. When you disappear into the men’s washroom, Tartaglia turns back to Alik. “Pantalone certainly keeps interesting company when he wants to.”

Alik shrugs their shoulders. “I’ve only met him once, but I’ve known my poor sighted friend for years now, so I believe that.”

Tartaglia hums. He glances over his shoulder, seeing who and who isn’t listening. Most of the patrons are minding their business, and some are currently leaving the bar. Seeing the coast is clear, he turns back to Alik and lowers his voice to a whisper. “I assume your friend is happy about that, isn’t he?”

Alik chuckles. “What, ah, what gives you that impression?” 

“He’s not that subtle,” Tartaglia says, “and I might have overheard a little bit of your conversation before he ran into me.”

Alik lowers their voice so only the Harbinger can hear them. “Look, I’m not going to confirm anything, but true or not, it’s really important that we not let that sort of talk get around. As far as I’m aware, the Regrator might be fine with it, but his business partner, my friend’s father, is not.”

“Ah, I see.” Tartaglia takes a drink. “I can understand that. Rest assured, his secret is safe with me.”

Alik raises their brow. “That’s it? No blackmail or anything?”

Tartaglia chuckles. “No, that’s not how I do things. Ironically, that’s more the Regrator’s style, but he clearly likes your little friend.”

“Wait, do you mean ‘likes him’ in a friendly way, or…?”

Tartaglia smirks. “Who’s to say?” He takes another swig. “In all honesty, for someone who tends to drone on and on, he’s careful about his life outside the Fatui, or the bank. Though, I will say that even if I knew, Pantalone could and would have bought my silence.”

“Eh, it was worth a shot. You’d at least barter for a higher price, right?”

“I think he’d give me a satisfying amount on his first offer,” Tartaglia replies, “enough that I’d be smart enough not to push it.”

Alik tips their head back and pours the last bit of their drink into their mouth. They glance back at the bathroom, wondering when you’re going to come back. They jump a bit when Tartaglia places a hand on their shoulder, and motions for them to move in closer. Curious, they lean over a bit. Tartaglia cups his hands over their ear, and Alik shivers uncomfortably at the warmth of his breath.

“I’m not going to confirm anything,” he whispers, “but if your friend likes how things are progressing with Pantalone, I think you should let him keep doing whatever it is he’s doing.”

Alik pulls back a bit so Tartaglia isn’t whispering right in their ear. “Is that so?”

“Yeah. From what I hear, your friend is a ‘refreshing change’ compared to most,” Tartaglia continues, “so if he’s trying to get closer, he’s already on the way there if you catch my drift.”

The sound of a thud, a chair scraping, and a hissed curse is all Alik needs to hear to know you’re out of the bathroom. They look up and see you rubbing your knee, before you straighten up and begin making your way back to the table. Before you sit down, you look at the two and give them an odd look at their suspicious proximity.

“What’s all this?” you ask.

“Gossiping about your book,” Alik says.

“All the raunchy, lewd details,” Tartaglia adds.

You blush. “I told you I’m not adding that scene in.”

Tartaglia laughs. “I was just messing with you! You’re actually a smut writer?”

“No! Romance! Romance does not mean smut!”

“Not that he could write it, anyways,” Alik teases.

You sit down. “I wish I was blind already so I wouldn’t have to look at you.”

“Isn’t that a bit harsh?” Tartaglia comments.

“No, that’s pretty normal when he’s grouchy,” Alik says.

You throw back the rest of your drink, your now empty glass clacking on the table. “Well, this has been… one of the outings of all time. I think I’d better get going soon.”

“We haven’t been out that long,” Alik says.

“No, but if I stay out later, I’m probably going to have a couple more drinks,” you say, “and I don’t want to be writing hungover tomorrow. Plus, my mother will have a conniption if I’m out later than ten and the more I avoid that headache, the better.”

Alik sighs. “Fair enough. I have an afternoon meeting tomorrow. It won’t do me any favours if I’m groggy during it.”

“I suppose this is goodbye, then,” Tartaglia remarks. He offers you a hand, and you awkwardly take it. His grip is firm when he shakes your hand. “Thanks again for the drink, comrade! And for keeping me entertained for the evening.”

“M-My pleasure,” you say, “and, on that note, sorry again for bumping into you.”

Tartaglia watches as you and Alik put your coats back on and pay for your drinks. Alik trails behind you, and waves at him before stepping through the door and disappearing into the night. In the quiet bar, he takes his time finishing his drink before he bids the bartender a warm goodbye.

His cheeks and nose are a warm red, contrasting his white foggy breath. Soft snow crunches under his boot, the clusters of flakes falling around him glowing in the moonlight. Eventually, his feet bring him to a building he is all too familiar with by now. The doors are locked now, but he has been given a key to the back door, which he has been told time and time again to only use in case of emergencies. He knocks the snow off his boots as best as he can before he enters the bank properly.

With one of the only other people in the building being a heavily armed guard, Tartaglia’s movements are practically broadcasted throughout the bank as he makes his way upstairs. He’s loud enough that he doesn’t need to0 knock on the Regrator’s door. He makes it to the door and lifts his hand up and is told to “come in.”

He’s polite enough to shut the door behind him when he enters. He gives his superior Harbinger a smile. “Good evening, Regrator.”

“You’re late,” Pantalone states, keeping his eyes on the paperwork he’s scribbling away at.

“My apologies,” Tartaglia states, “I had a little run in earlier.”

“And that’s the third time I’ve heard you use that as an excuse for being late.”

“You make it sound like I’ve made tardiness a habit!”

“I can also smell the alcohol on you.”

Tartaglia takes a seat. “Now you’re making it sound like I’m a drunk. Besides, it’s not as if this is an official meeting.”

Finally, the Regrator sets his pen down and looks up at Tartaglia, shimmering stony eyes meeting dull baby blues. “I don’t care if this is a casual outing or a serious business deal, you know my expectations, Eleven.”

“I wish you were as forgiving to me as you are with that writer fellow,” Tartaglia comments, watching Pantalone’s reactions like a hawk.

Pantalone stills for a moment, and though his expression remains mostly unchanged, the inquisitive tilt and slight arch of an eyebrow is enough to satiate Tartaglia. “The writer? Why are you bringing him up?”

“Who do you think I had a run in with?”

Pantalone’s lips finally curl, and he just chuckles. “Ah, you’d think he’d learn after our first encounter. You’ve met him now?”

Tartaglia nods. “He bought me a drink as an apology, and we talked a little bit about you.”

“Good things, I hope?” Pantalone remarks, and while it’s easy to tell when he’s fishing for information, his intentions are currently hard to read.

“His friend and I were mostly teasing him about the suit,” Tartaglia replies, “but other than that, it was just small talk.”

“I see, I see…”

“Better than he does.”

“Mm, it’s funnier when he makes the joke.” Pantalone opens a drawer and pulls out couple documents stapled together, reading them as he shuts the drawer. “I received your latest proposal, and after doing the math, I found that for once you actually deserve more mora as opposed to less. Not as much as you would have gotten before your time in Liyue, but I think you’re wise enough to be happy about that.” With his eyes still on the paper, he reaches into another drawer and pulls out a jingling pouch. Without looking up, he hands it to Tartaglia, who accepts it graciously. “Don’t let this get to your head, and please don’t mention it to Dottore. Specifically Segment Kappa, he’s still upset I only gave him half the funding for his latest project, but I told him I needed a functional prototype by the end of the month if he wanted the rest of it.”

“I know the drill,” Tartaglia replies, “and isn’t Kappa in Fontaine right now?”

“Something about studying scuba gear, I don’t know, all I know is he’s not bothering me right now and quite frankly, it’s all I really care about. Now, do you have anything else to say or ask before I send you on your way?”

“I take it your four-thirty meeting went poorly?”

“Why do you ask?”

“There’s some blood splatter still above your left eyebrow.”

Pantalone stops and lifts his hand up to his forehead. He rubs at the spot above his eyebrow, and when he pulls his fingers back, he can see his finger tips have slightly tacky red residue on them. 

He clears his throat. “Goodnight, Eleven.”

“Goodnight, Regrator.”

[oscconfessions]

Honestly I’m just gonna say it at this point,

the fandom ruined fantube for me, believe it or not but I was a huge fan of them before I started posting my art.

Its not that I don’t like them anymore because the ship is now popular, it’s because of how I’ve seen so many people just straight up ruining the mood for people who dont ship them,

“Oh uh you can’t ship that cause fantube is canon :/“ I’m quite sure AE doesn’t want any ship in the ii to be canon, even fantube.

“But Bot sees fan and test tube as their parents!” Yes I know that, but AE also specifically said that the ship can be canon in a platonic, aromatic or even romantic way, whatever your heart desires, so it’s not immediately romantically canon.

Even if it was, you’d still be allowed to ship them with different characters,

so why would you comment “fantube is canon” on a cute ship art that involves fan or test tube with another character, when in conclusion, you’re just ruining the mood for everyone, what are you gaining from this??

and also, I think the fantube family thing ruined how the fandom previews bot. Bot is their own character with their own relationships, it’s been shown how uncomfortable they can from the thought that fan and test tube created them to represent a person they’ve never even had a close bond with, (which is really messed up may I add) and now the fandom treats bot as a child, which isn’t wrong by itself ,but it’s still irritating how the only reason bot is now previewed as a child, is because so they could be THE fantube kid, making it a fantube family, and I’m kind of mad that it’s now canon.

nothing against fantube itself ofcourse! Please , this really wasn’t supposed to be the message of this confession 😓

.

[justastrugglinghotchocolate]

Ya’ll I used to jokingly consider this, but nah, there is enough evidence in the book to suggest:

Henry ruins Dorian out of spite and jealousy towards Basil for moving on from him.

Let’s get right into this. 

I went back into the book because I wanted to review the post I made about Henry and misogyny earlier. Besides the usual annoyance at Henry’s dumb stupid rant, I noticed this line:

“I had buried my romance in a bed of asphodel.”

And then it hit me that Henry’s worst rants about women only come after the topic of marriage, but more specifically, commitment. Which then led to an even more interesting idea: I’m pretty sure Henry mostly uses ‘women’ as cover to complain about Basil and Basil’s ‘lack of commitment to him.’

I want to note that there’s a lot of interesting things in regards to Henry and his relationship with women that I’d love to go into, but this will focus solely on him and Basil.

Here’s what Henry says in his misogynistic ass rant after Sibyl dies. (This is from the 1891 ver):

“But [Sibyl] would have soon found out that you were absolutely indifferent to her. And when a woman finds that out about her husband, she either becomes dreadfully  dowdy, or wears very smart bonnets that some other woman’s husband has to pay for.”

Basil is often considered ‘unfashionable’/‘dowdy’ by Henry’s standards. This is only further proven in what he says about Basil’s disappearance:

“Why should he have been murdered? He was not clever enough to have enemies. Of course, he had a wonderful genius for painting. But a man can paint like Velasquez and yet be as dull as possible. Basil was really rather dull. He only interested me once, and that was when he told me, years ago, that he had a wild adoration for you and that you were the dominant motive of his art.”

But that isn’t all. The last part of that quote matches one to one to Henry’s claim about women (or Sibyl, specifically). Basil was not only ‘dull’, but his only ‘fashionable’ attribute, his art, grew ‘dowdy’ once he discovered Dorian’s indifference to him.

Henry also says this about women:

“Good resolutions are useless attempts to interfere with scientific laws. Their origin is pure vanity. Their result is absolutely nil.”

And later:

“But women never know when the curtain has fallen. They always want a sixth act, and as soon as the interest of the play is entirely over, they propose to continue it. If they were allowed their own way, every comedy would have a tragic ending, and every tragedy would culminate in a farce. They are charmingly artificial, but they have no sense of art.”

Guess who makes resolutions regarding goodness? Basil, who refuses to believe that Dorian is nothing but a good, pure man. 

“[Basil] could not bear the idea of reproaching [Dorian] any more. After all, his indifference was probably merely a mood that would pass away. There was so much in him that was good, so much in him that was noble.”

Basil’s arc traditionally should have ended once Dorian rejects him. Between that chapter and the chapter where Basil dies, there is no mention of Basil in any form. By all means, Basil’s role in the story is over—and then he demands the ‘sixth act’ to confront Dorian.

And finally:

“Besides, nothing makes one so vain as being told that one is a sinner. Conscience makes egotists of us all. Yes; there is really no end to the consolations that women find in modern life. Indeed, I have not mentioned the most important one.”

“What is that, Harry?” said the lad listlessly.

“Oh, the obvious consolation. Taking some one else’s admirer when one loses one’s own.”

Now before I point out the obvious irony of Henry literally 'taking someone else's admirer' (henry actually has a lot in common with his 'criticisms' of women), I want to bring your attention to a key part we don’t discuss enough about in the book.

““Life has always poppies in her hands. Of course, now and then things linger. I once wore nothing but violets all through one season, as a form of artistic mourning for a romance that would not die. Ultimately, however, it did die. I forget what killed it. I think it was her proposing to sacrifice the whole world for me. That is always a dreadful moment. It fills one with the terror of eternity. Well—would you believe it?—a week ago, at Lady Hampshire’s, I found myself seated at dinner next the lady in question, and she insisted on going over the whole thing again, and digging up the past, and raking up the future. I had buried my romance in a bed of asphodel.”

So I’m gonna make an educated guess and say Henry is lying his ass off here. He did not have a ‘romance’ with a woman. He certainly did not get an emotional, romantic attachment with a ‘woman’. I feel comfortable saying this because 1) his general distaste for women literally points to this being bullshit and 2) a significant change that was made from the 1890 version of the book to the 1891 version.

This is the quote in 1890:

“I once wore nothing but violets all through one season, as mourning for a romance that would not die.”

This is 1891:

“I once wore nothing but violets all through one season, as a form of artistic mourning for a romance that would not die.”

Well, well, well, who is the arti—It’s Basil. He’s literally talking about Basil here. AND GUESS WHAT VIOLETS MEAN IN VICTORIAN FLOWER LANGUAGE?

A couple of things actually, but the top three are:

‘Faithfulness, Modesty, and Love.’

Henry emotionally had been faithful to Basil. While I doubt he was monogamous in anyway, Basil held a special place that no else would ever have. Not even Dorian.

And this brings me back to the quote that originally sent me down this rabbit hole:

“I had buried my romance in a bed of asphodel.”

In the 1890 version, it says:

“I had buried my romance in a bed of poppies.”

Poppies are known to mean death and would have fit perfectly if Henry was saying he felt nothing for the relationship, but what does asphodel mean?

‘Love Beyond The Grave’, ‘Remembered Beyond The Tomb’ and sometimes, ‘My regrets follow you to the grave’. 

(NOTE: please keep in mind floriography could mean certain things based on the color and the type of flowers. That being said, considering Wilde described the shit out of every setting he wrote, the lack of detail about the flowers suggest the most broad meaning is meant to be taken.)

Henry isn't over Basil. He couldn't kill the love, so he buried it and took Dorian as a consolation and revenge. He will never be able to get over Basil until Basil or himself dies.

BOY DO I HAVE GOOD NEWS FOR HENRY/s

[iztea]

Do you like drawing in a sense that it relaxes you? Like a hobby you‘re looking forward to after a day of work. Do you feel joy while you draw?

I‘m currently battling my art demons and came to the conclusion that drawing actually makes me feel shitty a lot of the time because I only take joy out of the results yk? So if it‘s good, great! If I get overwhelmed woah my world is breaking down. My therapist told me I need a hobby that actually relaxes me and that I like solely for itself, not connected to performance, and I was wondering if drawing is just generally the wrong thing for that or if there‘s a way for people to actually enjoy it in a relaxing way.

You‘re so open about your drawing process and you‘re my favorite art account so you fell victim to my question haha but I get that this ask is pretty specific and kinda weird, don‘t feel pressured to answer :)

i do very much enjoy drawing in a relaxing way; for me, it's the equivalent of playing video games or watching Netflix so, in a way, i think of drawing as "unproductive work". Not sure if you're actually looking for a solution-based answer to your problem or if you just want to hear my side/my opinion on the matter, but I'll try to delve into both. 

I think for me personally, I've always found drawing to be relaxing for the most part. Frustration is always to be expected, of course, but I wouldn't say it ruins the mood, it's just something that comes and goes. The only unpleasant part about drawing for me is strictly related to the social media aspect or just making it public. Now, I'm not sure if you have an art account as well or how much you relate to this but I very often dread posting stuff online. I kinda have to force myself almost every time to make something public because I hate the applause but I am also rational enough to understand that art is meant to be shared with others, even if I personally don't feel a strong need to... It's just one of those human behaviour things you have to mimic or adapt to get by, similar to many other things that don't make sense to me personally but I cognitively understand why they happen but I digress

 When it comes to the process itself, I actually enjoy it more than the final result. If I had a lot of fun experimenting with brushes and new techniques and crazy effects i saw online then i get a sense of joy no matter the end result, and here is where my first piece of advice comes into play: learn to enjoy the process without thinking of the destination. For me, even when I do have a clear idea in mind, it always fluctuates and I let it fluctuate. Sometimes it even looks like shit. So what? It's just for your eyes, who cares if it doesn't look good? Just call it a flop and move to another thing, or revisit it sometime later when your skills improve. This is even easier when you do not have an art account where you share your art, there's zero pressure, you're creating the pressure yourself.

Just think about it: 

>why do you feel shitty and overwhelmed? -> because you care about the end result

>why do you care? -> because if it turns out bad, it feels like wasted time. or because you put your worth into what you create or because [  fill in your answer here ]

>do you still want to continue drawing? -> if there is a way to enjoy it in a relaxing way, then yes i assume

Ok great! Then, the solution is to remove that root feeling of disappointment, overwhelm or despair by learning to appreciate the process of creation and bask in the uncertainty of it instead of being so dead-set on the final piece. If you are not content enough with your skills to end up drawing something that you're always satisfied with, and if it causes you this much distress, then drop your expectations and don't reach the finish line. I mean this literally: draw forever-WIPs. Sketches. Doodles. Don't render, don't even try to think of a color palette. Don't Finish Your Art. Enjoy the process of discovery, of trial-and-error of indecision and I can assure you it will be during these moments when you'll find the relaxation you're looking for.

Enjoyment and relaxation, in my experience, come from two places/approaches: 1. the subject itself and/or 2. noticing improvement in your skills.

To give you an example, when I was sick with fever I drew Dazai as that "let's take ibuprofen together" meme and I thought it was the best shit in the world I was on cloud nine and giggling to myself. Looking back on that art, I now realize it looks terrible (and i lowkey want to redraw it) but back then i was laughing while drawing it and felt Great. because I was drawing something i thought it was funny. Not even once did I think "oh man, I hope this turns out nice ohh it will be so awful if it doesn't the world will explode" because that was not its purpose. Granted i was a bit,,,,,, unwell given my sickly state but my point still stands! So, what I'm trying to say here is that you can try drawing "funny/silly" things as a way to sort of lessen that burden of expectations. Or just something you reaaalllly want to see and you know no one else will do it. Taking matters in your own hands type beat

The second way to enjoy drawing in a relaxing way is by taking the other route: instead of focusing on the subject matter, try focusing on new techniques, new brushes, new tutorials or approaches you found online. Basically, focus on improving your skills in a fun-no-pressure-no-strings-attached way while keeping your subject of choice neutral or uninteresting. Or maybe take the artwork of an artist you really like and try to deconstruct it/ reverse engineer it and apply it to your own art. But whatever you do or choose, just never finish it. let them stay as wips or else you won't be very.. relaxed.

*please note this is an "and/or" statement, so you can absolutely do both: try a new technique you found while drawing something that you also enjoy for uhhhhhhhhhhh relaxmaxxing as the would kids say

Lastly, what I would highly recommend is listening to Adam Duff's podcasts, he really hits the nail on the head when it comes to such topics and more, he really narrates and explores that soulful part of an artist way better than I ever could with this answer so please check him out, I think you'll find your answers there

[captain-lessship]

Frozen Over Pt. 2

Trigger Warnings (Whole Work): Canon Typical Violence, Manipluation, Abuse, President Snow being President Snow, Eventual Character Death.

Content Warning (Chapter Specific): Jealousy

Friendship it was. Many years after his victory, you and him spent time together. Many memories of growing up involved him. It was easy to find time to be around him.

You recalled him interrupting one of your painting sessions by sneaking up behind you. You had started mapping out the huge arched window that was calling for you to paint it.

You jumped slightly when he grabbed your sides and attempted to tickle you. You rolled your eyes, “It is rude to interrupt an artist.”

Finnick looked at your painting, “I think it is missing something.”

You looked at him, annoyed and confused, “And what would it be missing, my crayons only friend?”

“A subject.” He noted, “All of the best art pieces have people in them.”

“Well, I don’t paint for other people.”

“But you always want to do the best in everything else.”

He had a point. When you got into something, you were into it.

“Who would I paint?”

“Me.”

You laughed, “Paint you? You’re already an art piece to other people.”

“Why not immortalize my charming good looks? I won’t be young for ever.”

You sighed, “Go sit on the windowsill.”

You and him could be seen running around the city when he was brought back for a visit. It stayed this way and you hoped it would continue to stay.

He was a favorite among many people in the Capital. He was very enthusiastic and entertaining. There was never a dull moment around him.

Just as you did then, you idolized and envied him. You wished that you were more like him for your reputations sake. Strong, cheerful, charismatic and attractive. Socializing came so easy to him meanwhile you often were looked over during conversation, many people deeming you a bore.

Many times you heard people say that something was wrong with you and how could someone from the capital be so dull.

Truth be told, you didn’t like looking like a cake decoration and preferred the simpler formal dress that your grandfather had you dressed in for many ceremonies. You liked to party but people being so… gluttonous ruined your mood.

You were sitting alone on the outskirts of this party, a birthday party for a capital big shot that apparently was your distant cousin.

Finnick was there. You could see and hear him, he was laughing and having a good time. Many people were swooning over him. A flare of jealousy came to you but you swallowed it down with your drink, cursing yourself. Finnick was your friend and here you were, wishing he would go away and you could take his place or that you had it in you to be beside him.

He was making his way to you. He wanted to see you, “Excuse me, I must go see Mr. Snow about a private matter.” He flashed his boyish smile and the guests that were flicked to him smiled, giggled and let him be. He sighed heavily once he was sure none of them were looking.

He walked to you, smiling. To him, you were hope that not all of the Capital citizens were borderline crazy and exceptionally wasteful.

“How are you doing?”

Your eyes cut up to him, “Oh the usual, dreadful but great at hiding it.”

In nine years of friendship, Finnick was well aware of your introverted disposition. He sat beside you, “You know, we could leave.”

You eyes gleamed, “We could.”

“We should.”

“What will we do?”

“Go for a walk, talk about what is new, and you tell me what is going on with next years games.”

You scoffed, “ I know what everyone else does. A Quarter Quell.”

He eyes you with the look that got him anything he wanted from you. You stood up, “Are we going for that walk?”

“We will.” He stood up and you picked a direction and started walking.

You looked up at the sky, all the lights dulled the stars but if you caught it before they all turned on, you could see them.

“You know, in my district, we can see all the stars.”

You smiled, “Must be nice. I want to see them.”

“I come visit you, you can come visit me.”

You laughed, “I would like to see you ask grandfather for permission.”

“You are a grown man! What’s the geezer going to do?”

You glared at him, “He isn’t a geezer. I know I am grown but I have a lot of responsibilities here.”

“Like what? Social networking? If so they need a new guy.” He nudged you with his arm.

You playfully rolled your eyes, “It’s not my fault I am bad at coin tosses.”

[ryuichirou]

RYU YOUR RECENT LILIA/MALLEUS ART ON TWITTER JUMPSCARED ME I WAS AT WORK AND COULDN'T SCROLL PAST IT AFTER UNHIDING IT FOR LIKE A SECOND I WAS SO SCARED MY COWORKERS WERE GONNA SEE IT FROM MY PHONE

But I gotta thank you for the lovely food, I was literally waiting hours to be able to look at it in a more appropriate setting (not kidding it took 5 hours) and my goodness gracious me like always there's so much to the illustration to appreciate I'm a sucker for your LiliMal art 💕💕💕

(In other news I know you did LiliMal headcanons a bit ago but anything else hot n spicy sex specific you also got in mind for the two?)

I already replied to this ask about a week ago, but I promised to get back to it when I have headcanons to share, so today’s the day! I feel like some of the things I’m saying in this post are kind of similar to the ones that I mentioned in my previous one, but I tried to elaborate on those if that’s the case. Anyway, I hope you enjoy it.

Thank you very much for your kindness once again, and thank you for asking about these two <3

So, here are some more spicy LiliMal hcs~

When comparing the way Malleus behaves with Lilia and with other potential lovers, there is a clear difference: he allows Lilia to be a bit more disrespectful to him. Malleus tends to be provoking and teasing in general, but with Lilia he is straight-up bratty sometimes, and Lilia is the only one who is allowed to tame him, to grab him and even to punish him a little bit. It’s because Lilia knows exactly when to stop not to sour Malleus’ mood. So it’s not unusual for him to grab Malleus by his neck, his horns or his tail, to bite his skin as a warning or to even smack his butt (the last one is pretty rare though). Also, Malleus is more clingy with Lilia than with anyone else: to Lilia it’s very obvious that despite being powerful and proud, Malleus still desperately craves his attention.

Sometimes there are situations when they argue very passionately and end up having sex. Usually it happens either because Malleus enters that pouty and capricious state that could only be fixed by Lilia kissing him and pacifying him with affection, or because Lilia gets genuinely irritated by Malleus’ selfish and stubborn nature and just wants to teach him a lesson.

Malleus is very used to his lover being small but agile, and he loves the fact that Lilia’s bites are subtle but stingy, and also quite unpredictable. And being a powerful fae that he is, Malleus could’ve easily healed all the marks that Lilia leaves on him in seconds, but he doesn’t do it all the time. When he is alone (especially when Lilia used to get very busy and disappear for weeks), he likes to admire these marks and smirk to himself, remembering how Lilia was all over him, touching and biting him everywhere like a tiny predator. Malleus’ beautiful pale neck is usually the part that suffers the most from Lilia’s little vampire moments.

There are times when these two get way too passionate and intense. Sometimes they find themselves having sex mid-air, bumping into the ceiling, breaking walls + Malleus starts shooting lightnings at some point just because of how aroused and overwhelmed he is. They completely ruined an abandoned building once… “I am too old to do something this irresponsible” Lilia said that day, with absolutely no remorse in his voice – it was too much fun.

Lilia adores Malleus’ tail. He loves it when Malleus thumps his tail on the ground when he’s a bit irritated due to sexual frustration and impatience. He loves that Malleus is so well-trained by him that he pulls his tail up and exposes the sensitive spots when Lilia touches him. And Lilia knows all those spots even better than Malleus does: he always triggers all the right nerves that make Malleus’ lower half of the body shiver. At the same time, when Malleus is either playing hard to get or just changed his mind about wanting to have sex, he slaps Lilia’s face with his tail and pushes Lilia away with an annoyed expression on his face.

Malleus does suck Lilia’s dick sometimes, but it’s an unusual occasion: he doesn’t really like how it feels, especially when he touches Lilia with his teeth on accident. It kind of hurts his ego a little bit… But it’s all good, because he squeezes Lilia’s dick with his breasts instead, and Lilia loves it even more~

[ccaramel-llow]

I'VE BEEN SUMMONED! Platonic! Kinger and Ragatha with Teen!Reader who draws them (Family Drawing you know?)

Bonding with the Grandparents moment. (Totally not projecting)

Pairings; Kinger/Reader Ragatha/reader

Warnings; None!!!

Platonic 🫂 hc's !!

vv Below! vv

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Kinger ♔

, Kinger would be scared if you showed up out of nowhere and gave him a drawing.

{ "AH!!" He shouted in surprise until he realized, It was just you. "Oh!! (Name)!! It's a pleasure seeing you here... Are you stalking me?- Oh, you're trying to show me something? Cool, Let me-..." He paused for a bit before his eyes dilated.}

, He would be so grateful and so happy you did this !! <33

, He would frame it with a shiny golden outline as if it was real artwork.

, If Jax broke it, He'd hide in his pillow fort while having a mental breakdown for an hour until you made a new one, He wants caine to protect it from now on. He wouldnt talk to Jax again for a long time though. { "Oh please old man that thing you call 'Artwork' Wasn't anything like actual art." Jax said, His stupid grin still plastered on his face. "It isnt like it was spe-" "It is special!! Atleast to me!!! Get out of my sight!!" Kinger broke, Irritated from all the stuff jax has said. "And this IS artwork! It's just as beautiful as mone liso!! O-or whatever you call it, I don't specifically remember..." }

Ragatha 🧶

, Ragatha would just crouch to your height if you were short, And ask what you wanted to give her despite being in a terrible mood because of Pomni abandoning her.

{{ " Oh!!! (Name)." She said with a tone filled with false cheer. She crouched to your height as she saw the paper in your hands. Her expression softened as you held the paper out for her to grab and see. When she did, She cried as she saw what you drew, Engulfing you in a hug, Clutching onto the paper being careful not to ruin the gift she has received. "It's beautiful." }}

, She would cry from how cute it was and hug you, Now officially adopting you. As a little sister, Or as her daughter.

, She would ask caine to resize the image larger then before and then frame it with a golden outline.

, Ragatha would protect it HEAD to TOE. Beating anyone who dared to even touch your precious artwork.

[followmetoyourdoom]

So inspired by this post from @jak2gooberglub and this art by @preservedcucumbers I've written a shortish post-Jak 3/Jak X late night Jak musings about the what ifs and what he regrets, and then Daxter comforting him in the way only Daxter can - calling him a moron.

Rated T: swearing and mentions of blood.

Might put this up on ao3 but for now, under the read more:

It's late. He's tired. He's wired with thoughts about what could have been and what futures could have changed.

His father was there the entire time. Just outside the city walls.

What if he had waited? What if he had known sooner? What if he could have returned Mar to his father and he had grown up with him?

Jak allows himself to imagine it for a few blissful seconds. The training his father would have passed down, the honour. He could have grown up to be the leader Spargus needed him to be instead of refusing the throne. He could have spent more time with his father. He could have felt his love and pride for longer than those few short months. Yes, the Wasteland was harsh, but the cell walls and the experiments were harsher.

When did he get to have what he wanted? World be damned.

He gets up, a ball of frustration, and begins to pace, back and forth and back and forth, until he stops in front of his mirror.

What's happened to him?

You have. The answer comes ringing into his head as clear as the Light that keeps the Dark at bay. He's done this to himself.

It's by his own hand that he sent his younger version back in time to re-live the same shitty reality he was going through now. Why did he do that? To a child? Everything that's happened since he got to Haven City he can blame squarely on his own shoulders. Avoid the wumpbee nest. Yeah right, like that's the main thing the kid has to worry about.

He's no better than the Shadow trying to send that poor kid into Mar's Tomb.

His fist finds the indent in the wall from previous nightly musings and his head finds the crack in the mirror.

Jak winces in pain and leans back, watches as a thin stream of blood slowly drips down his forehead. Good, he deserves it. What good ever came out of his actions?

"Can't sleep, huh tough guy?"

The voice knocks him back into reality and he looks down as Daxter patters into the room.

Daxter. His friend. His partner in crime. The one he turned into an ottsel, the one he dragged into this mess. The one that could have just had a regular life without him in it, growing up in Sandover Village without him.

Of course, he can't just ruin his own life, right? He has to drag others down with him.

"Helloooo? Earth to Jak?"

There's a familiar jolt to his shoulder as Daxter hops up, but Jak ignores the hand waving in front of his face for a moment.

Still staring at himself in the mirror, he speaks up. "Are you happy here, Daxter?"

Daxter frowns. "Here specifically?" He leans back, elbow resting on Jak's head. "Well I'd rather be asleep curled up with my little tootsie roll Tess, but some big jerk punched the wall and woke me up."

"I mean here in Haven City."

"City of fast cars, faster women and even faster death threats? Eh, 60/40," he waves his hand, "happy as I can be."

Jak smudges blood across the side of his face. "You wouldn't have preferred to be back in Sandover, as yourself, without me in your life?"

Daxter tilts his head. "You're in one of those fucked up 'I'm the problem and to blame for everything' mood, ain't'cha?" He sighs. "Look buddy, I am myself and... I dunno, life would be pretty boring without you and pretty sad without Tess. Would it be more peaceful? Sure. Would I have less fur? Probably. Would I be less itchy? Absolutely. But I wouldn't give this up for the world.

"You're not the only one who's had to sacrifice what they want to save the world, y'know? This ain't all on you tough guy, so snap out of it. Please," the last word is mumbled. "No one gets to hurt my best friend, and that includes my best friend."

"I just... Miss him." He plonks down on the bed.

Daxter knows exactly who Jak means. "I know. But if you hadn't grown up in the past, then you wouldn't have gone back to the future and been around to stop Kor."

Jak shoots him a look.

"What?" He jumps off to stand next to Jak. "It makes sense. It would just be baby you who would have had his life juices or whatever sucked out by Kor's giant pincer things," Daxter gnashes his hands together dramatically to make his point, the entire conversation now aided by sweeping gestures. "So you die, Kor destroys or takes over Haven City, and sure as hell Spargus wouldn't have lasted long after that. Damas wouldn't stand by and watch his city burn, so he'd fight back, probably lose, and then you're in the same situation you're in now." Daxter's hands fall limp after their performance. "You had to go back, it was the right choice, fucked up as it is."

"I didn't have a choice as a little kid. Why did I choose for him? Why didn't I just ask what he wanted?"

Daxter rolls his eyes. "Hm yeah okay let's roleplay that for a second. You be you, I'll be younger you. Don't look at me like that, we're doing this, I'm going to show you how stupid you sound."

"Fine." Jak turns to him. "Hey, kid. Do you want to into the past and live in a shitty little village and then get tortured the minute you land back here and also have no memory of-"

"You're doing it wrong! I'll be you, you just be quiet." Daxter clears his throat and puts his hands together, poining at an invisible object. "Hey, kid. Through that portal is a quiet village. It's not much, you'll learn the lay of the land pretty quickly and you'll have a few chores here and there to do. But, and this is the really good part, you meet this amazingly handsome totally cool friend who... Who didn't really have friends until you showed up." Daxter shuffles his feet. "You end up taking him under your wing and he takes you under yours. He doesn't care that you don't talk and you don't care that he never stops talking. You balance each other out. You're partners. You'll be there for each other through thick and thin and you'll always, always, find each other and save each other. No matter what.

"So, whaddaya say, kid? Wanna go meet your best friend?"

Jak sits there quietly.

Daxter sniffs. "Yeah you look pretty fucking stupid now, don'tcha."

"Shut up."

Daxter gently punches his arm. "Never. You know I can't."

"Thanks, Dax."

"No problem, buddy. Let's get some sleep."

Jak grumbles and starts settling down into bed. Then there's a tail in his face and an ottsel on his chest. "What're you doing, Dax?"

"Getting some sleep, duh."

The tail flicks his nose and Jak brushes it away. "I thought you wanted to get back to Tess?"

"She'll have taken over the whole bed by now, nah, I'll stay here."

Jak smiles softly, the darkness allowing him to show his vulnerable side, if just for a moment. "Just like the good old times, hey Dax?"

Daxter makes a few biscuits and finally curls up. "Just like the good old times," he says sleepily.

[tfpriests]

⚠️I WRITE WEIRD EROTIC THINGs!!!☢️

Current obsession : August ;; ???

I have no intro yet but I like pretty boys who are evil and abusive and cruel and I like priests and I like alot of really specific things that spiral on and on and on

No DNI rlly I can’t really block anyway,this acc is mainly for rambling,I can’t follow back but I will rb something of yours to acknowledge u,,,heart emoji

I’m always there so feel free to interact whenever u want ^_^ asks r open

- alot of my imagines/prompts r 3rd person/at ‘other’ things i absolutely don’t do first person sori

*I post proship/fic content including whump sometimes.check bio for other notes n just read my posts :D discourse will never be here btw that’s dum

- I have specific fetishes

Usually have fixation on specific art styles/images never assume that I am thinking of real life/IRL stuff it’s only every the 2D drawn boys in my head plspls my mood is ruined whenever my brain convinces me someone thinks I’m thinking like that

[hydrangeyes]

Mk x spray painter Male reader ☁️☁️

So if you don't know, Yes this already existed, my old account was deleted (accident but I can tell I won't be getting it back), and am reposting my old x male reader works!

I don't know if I saved all of them but here is one that was saved to my AO3 account.

Edit: So shuffling through my docs It's been brought to my attention that wattpad (who I use as backup) Cut a lot of my fics in half??? anyway I'll be trying to fix that also

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Aaaahhhh this is such a cute idea!!!

Mk sees male reader spray painting on a wall and what's to join/try it out!

Warning: None!! Just super cute and mushy

Requested by: ekkozied

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For the most part you started this mural on your own. The building owner wanting to brighten up the alley walkway to their backyard café, and well, the pay was really good. A quick in and out job really.

So you didn't mind cleaning it up and prepping the wall, what you didn't expect was just...how big the wall actually was.

Letting out a breathe you step back shaking the can of black paint as you eye the sketch you placed. Took you since this early morning, and by the sound of your stomach. It was definitely time for lunch.

Doing some stretches and fully opening your bag of spray paints. You felt in the mood for something pretty light but filling.

"Hmm, Pigsy's noodles it is"

Your stomach ended up making you buy 2 servings...

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It didn't take long for your food to arrive, and while it wasn't your order you couldn't help but look back at the cute delivery driver.

Wide eyed and curious, Mk quickly was distracted by the mess of empty paint cans and the sketch you had on the wall. "Woah this looks so cool! How long have you been doing this!?" he shouts in excitement turning to you, seeing you on the ground eating.

You pause to swallow then grin "Thanks! A bit of a hobby, uh spray painting or working on this?"

"Yes." Mk asks

Letting out a snorted laugh you wave him to join you, which he does sitting close, "Let's see, I've been into art and specifically spray painting since middle school I think. Been working on this commission since 4 am? maybe 5?"

Mk gasps dramatically going a small tangent about hoping you at least took a break or how he couldn't even focus on being still for that long. to which as you watch him suddenly start organizing your empty cans, could tell.

"I like to draw and everything but I never branched out of sketches? Can't even imagine spray painting."

You tilt your head finishing up your bowl of noodles and getting up with a content stretch. Fully charged and ready to work.

"Well how about giving it a try now?"

Mk shakes his head watching as you pull out the colors you plan to use. "What!? Oh no no no! I would ruin it, what if I make a huge mess and then-" You interrupt him but handing over an orange spray can. Looking up at you Mk blushes at the calm and soft smirk you give him.

"I'll help if it's needed but that's the fun with spray painting. It dries quick and you can always paint over any mistakes." you wink stepping back and picking up a blue can. "So go wild delivery man."

Looking at the can Mk smiles a little. "Call me Mk."

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You both had fun for hours, coloring in your design and every now and then when mk stayed in one spot too long, getting it on each other.

It was a big piece so day after day, mk came with lunch and a helping hand (When you allowed it). Laughing and tossing cans to one another, it was care free and even when you put on the finishing touches, mk stuck around around, watching you work and talking calmly about his recent training session or frustrations.

You catch yourself, when you start feeling excited when the time for lunch came around. Inwardly trying to keep your cool when when you both were tired, mk leans his head on your shoulder for a quick nap.

Falling asleep with him may have caused a slight scene, someone passing by thinking there was an accident (You guys forgot to clean up the red paint...).

He found himself, really relaxing with you. It was different than with mei which confused him at first. Till one day, it was just a little too hot and you took off your shirt to keep working and not get a heat stroke. Yeah. this feel was very different, that and he felt genuinely safe with you (emotionally of course).

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So when it was all said in done you both couldn't help but feel a little bit sad.

You came to deeply enjoy the hyper man, find him cute and a great talker for times of burn out. And he adored the time with just having fun uninterrupted with someone he....well he realized he was starting to catch feelings for.

It shouldn't have been too much of a surprised when Mk suddenly asks you out. In the middle of cleaning your equipment up, you jolt as you feel him take hold of your arm. you see how he couldn't really look at you, his cheeks a deep red and shifting as if shy.

"Mk?"

He's quiet then with a deep breathe, looks at you straight in the eyes with all the determination and adoration he had.

"WILL YOU GO OUT WITH ME N/N!"

Blinking at the outburst then seeing how he started to fidget more, it finally registered what he asked/shout.

Blushing you smile brightly.

"I would love too."