#its more intense with my own art than others through how I know my thought processes and feelings behind it but like woow all art is so goo

[mildcicada]

Recently looked through some of the oldest art I made as a child and it was all SOO GOOD like it was just wow it was amazing. Art rules didn't exist I just was

[spuirrelwiththeletterp]

cutely slides in the yap post about their Sans AU that was previously accidently posted and jumps out of a window 😊

I've posted some art of my kid, but haven't given their name(I did) or any other info. I will eventually make a proper info post on them, but for now...

this booger right here is Error Print Sans, or just Print Error (or Error Print)

an absolute feck ton of words under the cut that's me just throwing up my thoughts ⇓

they originally started out as a passing thought that was just Error!Sans but CMYK colors, which evolved into a whole different character who didn't even have anything CMYK going on and I forgot about them for around two or three years until I re-entered my Undertale/UTMV phase recently. seriously disliked the character and the direction I took them in so I decided to start from scratch, took the original CMYK concept, and Print Error was born

am still working out their lore. I have ideas for some events that led to their current state, though how they got into the Anti-Void or why their attire changed after becoming an error is still beyond me

I called them Print Error because inkjet printers use CMYK ink and they're an error (very creative ik) they also feel weird being called just Print but they don't know why

even though I made its design with the CMYK color model in mind, its more CMY than CMYK due to actually not having any black, the way its body works just makes it look like it has black↴

Print Error's being is composed of 3 overlapping color layers (cyan, magenta, yellow) that each depict how much of that magic they have. less saturated colors means less magic left, and running out of all three colors will leave Print Error in a mindless "no color" or "all white" state where they can't use any magic unless they absorb color through physical contact

the alignment of Print Error's layers reflect their mental state. more misaligned layers means more mentally unstable or intense Print Error's emotions. more aligned layers means Print Error is more "there" in their own chaotically fragmented way, but layers rarely ever align too closely...

Their body is not affected by lighting, which means they stick out like a sore thumb with their bright colors and vantablack bones (it's already hard enough to just make the effect, shading them would just be an absolute nightmare 😭)

Print Error's strings are much thicker than a typical error's and come from both its eyes and mouth. Print Error can additionally absorb CMY colors from objects/beings with its strings

Print Error's attacks (bones, gaster/printing error blaster blasts) come in cyan, magenta, and yellow, which all have their own properties, but Print Error can't control what color their attack will be half of the time

Print Error is cold to the touch but has thermoanesthesia, so it doesn't know its a walking ice cube. its confused why others react so weird when coming in physical contact with it

Print Error does not understand social cues and personal space. they're often in a chaotically playful mood, though not always

Print Error is morally grey and can't tell the difference between good and bad, everything is neutral to it... apart from mistakes

Print Error's thoughts are inconsistent, usually jumping from one topic to another, having multiple thoughts at once, or not having any thoughts at all. it usually "lives in the moment", often going with the flow

Print Error's fragmented mind kind of leaves them absent minded most of the time, getting easily distracted and forgetting things like it's nobody's business. though they can often hold their focus if they're intrigued by something

even with a horrible memory, Print Error can remember things at random, though often it's something that it was previously intrigued by, or just something completely random. either way its gonna forget not even 2 seconds later

Print Error deeply believes that any mistake, no matter how small, can be catastrophic, causing them to have a sort of perfectionist mindset. they try to avoid making any mistakes, and punish themself over any mistakes they do make (leaving out details)

if Print Error witnesses someone else make a mistake, there's a chance their mind might not register it, but more often than not, will get seriously exasperated at the person for making a mistake and might even crash out of frustration. not because of the mistake itself, but more so out of fear for the person, though Print Error doesn't recognize the feeling nor reason behind it

though they do heal quicker than usual, it's a double-edged sword as it subconsciously encourages Print Error's more self-destructive behavior

I originally had Print Error have excellent depth perception, until I thought of Print Error seeing everything in the same layered effect others see them in. definitely gonna explore that idea!

there are many more ideas I have for Print Error but I don't know how to "coherently" include them so those are gonna be revealed over time 😉

If anyone wants to ask anything about Print Error, feel free to ask! I would love to answer any questions about them and I got nothing but time!

been stressing over this post for like two weeks and I just set a deadline so I wouldn't tweak things till the heat death of the universe

was heavily inspired by @ossiethegreat's Static Hue/Error!Color post to make my own rant on my own kid, so there might be some similarities cuz I am oh so ✨️creative✨️. link to the post because I absolutely loved reading its ideas and I love Hue

I AM SO SORRY OZ IF YOU DID GET A NOTIFICATION FOR THE UNFINISHED VERSION OF THIS POST THAT WAS NOT SUPPOSED TO HAPPEN I AM SO FRICKING SORRY 😭😭😭

I really tried to explain my thoughts and I feel like I failed in certain areas 😭 I struggle with explaining my ideas and especially the more in-depth ones, so some things might change if I find better ways to explain them

I definitely plan to share more of this gremlin, and especially if more than one person is interested in them!

also found some older drawings of Print Error I made previously but didn't share, so I'm sharing now because I don't think I would have shared these at any point in the future

also a lil lore one 👀 which I like but also don't like

[comfortless]

in my pottery class thinking abt how much i would rather be painting with König rn pleading emoji btw

lele you are in my head always.. König being artsy..? awkward, spontaneous infatuation developing over sharing portraits of each other? yes yes… 💞

There’s a new man in your class that you have never seen before, not around the rest of the community center. The perplexing titan has chosen to take up painting, of all things, and you wonder as he steps through the threshold of the door how he will ever even be able to hold a brush without the wood splintering in those massive hands.

Painting is calming, gentle most of the time. Only, he embodies that feeling of a failed brush stroke, an accidental tilt of your wrist leaving a swirl of mottled colors that would take far longer to fix than it could ever be worth. Dark, dreary and tense as he seats himself directly next to you.

His creations are dark things, abstract shapes of gray and maroon; red lightning and murky sea. Each dip of pigment glistening off of your own brush leads to softer scenes; poppies and silhouettes of sweet creatures grazing and basking beneath the amber rays of a sun hanging lofty upon the canvas. Gentle things to warm a heart where as his own are to expel something from a chest wound, infected and bursting.

He takes note of your bewildered stares, two weeks after his joining, and even makes a point to place himself at the back of the room, far enough away to keep you from seeing the quivering of his wrist as he paints a new apocalypse. A mercy or an insult, you couldn’t be certain.

When the time comes to create a portrait of one of the other participants, you approach him without thought. “We can paint each other,” you offer, voice like a bowstring. He only nods, once, and allows you into the space adjacent to him as he shifts his long limbs beneath the table in an attempt to accommodate you.

Just mercy, it was, then.

König isn’t talkative, even as you pester over details and ask him to tilt his head a certain way just to ensure you’ve picked the perfect placement for one of the rogue freckles dotting his cheek. He complies with a wide-eyes stare, one that leaves you feeling a strange mixture of curious and uncomfortable. Each time you look up, you notice that the gaze hasn’t lessened, it only proves to be more incessant and intense.

You show him his portrait; attention drawn to the eyes, each fleck of fluorescent light painted in them with the same color used for the pale white of his scars. This is one to be proud of, a certain reverence to the piece that you’ve lacked entirely in your painted fields of little white and gray blotted sheep.

His version of you is a splash of dandelion yellow, flecks of pink in a sea of black. There’s no face to be seen, but it is beautiful in its simplicity. You marvel at it, holding the canvas up to the light and your eye catches on something— buried just below the still-drying paint, a small scrawling of your name in the shimmering gray of pencil lead. You almost think you can make out the shape of a small heart somewhere in that mess of cheap acrylic, too, before the piece is gently tugged from your hands.

“It needs to dry,” he tells you, casually discarding it back onto the wooden table and examining your depiction of himself instead.

You watch as his eyes seem to light up, that weariness within them suddenly gone as his stare drifts from top to bottom of your canvas. You know that you’ve done well, with a certainty when his focus shifts back to you and a barely-there smile is tugging at his lips.

He tells you that he can not paint anything like you, and when you ask him just what that means, he only tells you that you’re just too pretty. The reality is obvious— his hands shake, but only around you. You’ve seen him nodding along to something the instructor says to him as the older man leans over the table to inspect his art, and König has only seemed stiff, unbothered.

There’s a cup of chamomile tea prepared for him the next time he enters the room and you’re nothing but demure smiles and sweet greetings as König takes the space next to you once more.

It’s just as he’s taking a sip that you decide to innocently ask: “Have you ever painted anyone nude?”

He sputters for a moment, trying to conceal the rising tide of crimson that creeps up from his cheeks to the tips of his ears as he turns away from you.

“Nein, but I would like to try.”

[alelathedragon]

Mr.Puzzles Ramble part 4009488383839393848

I added links to my other rambles if yo interested but all in all.....

Chat

GET EM

[1]

[2]

[3]

I wanna talk about 2 episodes in particular for this ramble:

Mario loses his moustache & Mr.Puzzles lowest point

It is my humble opinion that this dude still does NOT know what the fuck a MEME is- cus look at his actions in each episode. In the first one he studies Mario intensely because this is the one who has been ruining his plans the most with his bullshit and FUNNY.

Mr.Puzzles is after the power of being funny but still finds memes disgusting/horrible, when he makes Pedro his intensions are to film the creature hoping to steal SMG4's fame in a SMG3 LIKE manor, instead of stealing the videos hes just stealing assets of an actor. Yes; he does say MEME OFF but im convinced this man has no fucking clue what he's talking about and thats made more apparent in the next episode where he's going through content creator depression.

When the children turn on their Brainrot Skibbity Toilet he rightfully finds it to be the most insulting thing to ever grace his face and wants it gone, but then he realizes; hey wait a minute ... If I do this, I can traffic people to follow me, make money, make the content I love and BAM!! I'll be popular!!!

However.... He gets in his own way, when the "fame" of a billion children liking his youtube channel hits, it gets to his head immediately and he gets distracted from what he really wanted to do! He doesn't wanna make this shit, he wants to make his art!!! He doesn't understand WTF he's made other than an abomination

Like this man is genuinely confused as to why people have not gone from his shitty youtube channel over to his REAL content on the TV bc he forgot the part where he's supposed to stop the youtube and make stuff he likes again. Too 1 track minded

Even to the SMG4 crew its not funny bc it is NOT a meme! Mr.Puzzles doesn't know how to do that.

He came into the convention wanting to talk about his interests, inspirations, how he wrote his screen plays... Alas the crowd was children who didn't give a flying fuck about his craft and this pissed him off. Like: WHAT DO U MEAN U DIDNT LOOK AT MY TV SHOWS AND ONLY WATCH THIS STUFF IM NOT PROUD OF!?!?

& funnily enough

That leads into another point where this guy gives up so fast on things. Like in the cannon he SAYS he's given up on TV but that's a lie, he's going to keep doing entertainment.

What I mean by him giving up easily is:

He is a pathetic little meow meow folks. Hes one of those villains that THRIVES off a evil plan but when he's caught. He puts up his hands and runs, or throws things at his enemies.

Like in WOTF, in the song all boyo does: is throw shit because he DOES NOT know how to defend himself bro lololol. He has the power of his imagination but this isnt his head or his rules so he cant just- imagine a kung fu master as himself and fight back: his natural defences are to

Run/ Hide/ Throw things/ Bat things away/ Retract/ Panic

So when a plan fails. That plan is practically gone until he can think of a new way to use it

Like i doubt we're going to see Mario losing his moustache for a long time, i think we're going to see it again!!! But not soon. Mr.Puzzles needs time to cook that thought in the back of his mind of if it's even worth trying again or not.

He coulda given up on that thought all together but we wont know til we see!!

And he gave up on the youtube too! Because he was disappointed in himself and bro really just; could not bear to use that money anymore. He looked at that cash and could only relate it to his cringe youtube channel that he didnt want to associate with anymore. The original plan to use the money to make the content he wants: ⚰️

"I can't just use the money to make the content i want now! Im ruined! They just see me as a kids play toy now and this cash is NOTHING!!"

He forgot the plan, thus it got ruined by his own hand, and sense it was no longer completable in the way he originally intended it to go- it was impossible to complete.

He's so silly. I love him so much

[hwaightme]

Your fan, Seonghwa (part 2, series finale)

(part 1) (your fan ml)

🛸 pairing: seonghwa x nerdfluencer & physicist!reader 🛸 genre: romance, fluff, mutual pining 🛸 summary: a bulletpoint-style wordstream of what it would be like if seonghwa was stanning you 🛸 wordcount: 6.0k 🛸 warnings/tags: language, noraebang chaos, mc knows too much, seonghwa is a star, IT ALL COMES TOGETHER, crossover hours, is it christmas again? 🛸 taglist: @doom-fics @layzfeelit @acciocriativity @izuijin @justhere4kpop @honey-lemon-goose @i-luvsang @jcngh0-hq @black--awsum @jackinmyarea 🛸 a/n: HI! THIS IS THE END (hold your breath and count to 10) oh my word... I am so unbelievably grateful for all of you, for your love and support, for inspiring and for believing. Without you, none of this would have happened. Much love, and biggest hugs, and stay tuned for more to come in the future!!

You needed to act quick if you were going to solve anything. Time was against you, considering that in a month’s time ATEEZ were going to be going on tour, and you needed to write another chapter of your thesis that discussed experimental set up and some predictive modelling.

As you watched your computer crash yet another time, deleting the data that you had implemented into the physics simulator engine, you decided to give up for the evening and figure out how to get your plan, your life experiment, running.

Your thoughts had drifted to trying to immerse yourself in Seonghwa’s world. You were clueless when it came to music, and aside from listening, did not do much else. But what you were always ready for, was others’ enthusiasm, You wanted to see that glint in Seonghwa’s eyes return to him, you wanted him to be himself and to be proud of what he had achieved.

You were no stranger to creative ruts, to self-doubt and trying to pretend to be someone you were not. It was almost a rite of passage in STEM, and you could only imagine how intense it could be in the creative and liberal arts. In that state, one tries to remove themselves from what they can actually do, steps away from that they have overcome and believe that the work of others is something they need to measure themselves against.

This was what you had observed in Seonghwa, and this was disconcerting. Of course, you appreciated the fact that every time you called, and met, he could impress you with his newly acquired knowledge in your subject… but at the end of the day… it was something you already knew. It was something that was second nature to you, and removed his own beauty from the conversation. You stared liking Seonghwa not because he was an astrophysics enthusiast (especially since when he tried to be, it was evident that it was giving him unnecessary amount of stress), but because he was himself. That adorable nerd sitting in front of a camera having the time of his life assembling Lego. That more than cute man who was over the moon when you were raving with him about the lightsaber he had as part of his collection. The wonderful, brilliant, Seonghwa who had so much to share with you, so much to teach you, but instead was hiding his genius away. The last thing you ever wanted to do was to change him, so for the sake of humanity and the universe not exploding, it was time to act.

After a quick ideation session, your intentions and your plan was clear – but, you needed to go to a more public space for it, and every fibre of your being was screaming THIS IS A RISK. But a risk you were willing to take, and were ready to go through every mitigation strategy in the risk assessment framework that you had drawn up on eight post-its you had stuck side by side on your desk. Though, prior to doing any of that, being the certified adult and professional researcher you were, you needed permission for this to go ahead. You had already heard from Seonghwa about the number of times that his members had caused unnecessary chaos, and you were not about to join the ‘horsemen of the ateezpocalypse’ ranks. You needed to call the captain.

You were lucky that most of your friends had an equally strange schedule that made one question what time zone they actually lived in, so your close bestie who owned ‘dream-ity’ and had the patience of a saint to be able to handle none other than Jung Wooyoung, had sent over Hongjoong’s number at lightning speed, though not without trying to figure out why exactly you needed it. She already knew that you were ‘seeing’ Seonghwa, but none of the details. Neither you, nor the eldest member, apparently, were cracking about anything more ‘tea-esque’ that was going on between you.

She did initially offer to send you her boyfriend’s number but considering that Seonghwa had explicitly stated that that certain someone was the equivalent of his personal sleep paralysis demon and the real reason why his hair for the comeback was stark white (“it is not dye nor bleach, it is Marie Antoinette syndrome”), you politely refused, insisting to ‘go see the captain’, channelling your inner Karen.

Seemed that Hongjoong was also an interesting character who was able to respond to you in thirty seconds, at four in the morning. At least your friend had an early opening shift and needed to travel, this man was just night owling like you. Little did you know that this was the case because Hongjoong already had your number after ‘lovingly’ interrogating Seonghwa after your first meeting.

You had opened up the conversation by introducing yourself, stating your interests, and apologising for the disturbance. You had also inquired whether it would be possible to set up either a meeting or a call with Hongjoong, to discuss the details of your proposition, seeing as you needed approval and it may be easier to explain verbally. Hongjoong was pretty straightforward in his response:

<hongble telescope> call in 2 min?

<you> yes please thank you!

And in exactly two minutes, you were ‘face to face’ with none other than the captain of ATEEZ, who appeared to be located in his studio, hunched over just a little and in dim lighting. To be frank, you were not any better – you were still in your office, illuminated just by a couple of desk lamps, and were also gremlin-like in your posture. It was odd how, in some senses you two were alike.

“So, how is the woman who is making Seonghwa turn into a physics student?” Hongjoong joked, though it did not make you cheer up one bit. You felt a pang of guilt in your heart, and decided to launch straight in.

“About that. I have been quite concerned about Seonghwa recently.”

“In relation to physics?”

“Yes.”

Hongjoong ran a hand through his hair and looked off into the distance momentarily.

“Well, he has been kind of… out of it lately. I mean, when it comes to stages and stuff he is chill, because you know, professional and music is his passion and all that, but in the dorms, you are right he is a lot more isolated.”

“Yes, well, I am to blame for that, and I want to fix it.”

“Since when are you to blame? If anything, it is his choice so he should like… wake up.”

“Well, it is hard to kick away something that someone wants to do subconsciously, and I do not want to come across as the centre of the universe by no means, but when a person does something to try and impress you, you cannot help but feel responsible.”

“You know what, I like your approach. That’s admirable. Okay, then, go on. I am interested to hear what you are thinking.”

“Well, I want to prove to Seonghwa that he does not need to pretend to be someone who he is not. I really could not care less whether he knows anything about my line of work or not, what I want is for him to be happy.”

“You are just green flagging your way into my grumpy old man heart.”

“How are you old, Hongjoong? You are just caring-”

“Okay Y/N you are just going through a check list of how to make Hongjoong happy at this point.” He grinned and exclaimed, intertwining his fingers and leaning back in the spinning chair.

“Well, hah, I guess it is easier to do when you mean it. So, well, my point here is that… I need to take him to this one location that is a little bit more public, but I can assure you I will do everything within my power to make it safe.”

“Hold on, hold on, do you need to do that?”

“It is critical. There needs to be a little bit of a shock to the system but it is only beneficial.”

“Okay, now I am not so approving. How do I even know I can trust you? Being nice is one thing, being reliable and trustworthy is a whole other area. What is the deal? What do you know, or what can you do to prove that it will be okay?”

Frankly, Hongjoong was already pretty confident in the fact that he would be able to entrust Seonghwa to you – the eldest member’s heart was already in your hands, so what was the problem with just letting you two go for it? Hongjoong wondered whether he was being stopped by his frazzled nerves, which had been put through challenge after challenge with each of the members – even himself¸ in this chaotic journey to find and fight for love. But he needed to act in the role of responsible leader, so back to listening to you. How were you doing to impress him?

You needed to think fast. Here, every word mattered. Expressing your affection and concern was easy enough, since it was at the forefront of your mind, but here you had some six dimensional chess to play, and your opponent was a master – taking one look at the ATEEZ lore was enough, and how it was going to play out was going to be quite impressive…

Oh.

That was right.

You knew the secret of the lore.

That’s it.

You thanked your ability to hyperfixate for helping you go over all the diaries, the interviews and the albums and mvs and shorts that were linked to the story of ATEEZ. You were no stranger to extensive lore and saga-like evolution. You were a Star Wars fan, for goodness’ sake. On top of that, why had you studied the theory of relativity and quantum physics if you were never going to use it for the most abstract and obscure reasons? You felt as though you had just gathered all the infinity stones together and were about to snap an infinity glove. You looked straight into the camera with a soft smile gracing your lips, and began.

“Well, I am not sure about physical proof, but in terms of theoretical knowledge and carrying on the story of ATEEZ, I could talk you though a couple of my ideas that may or may not serve as proof for my understanding of the depth of your group, the importance of paying attention to the details, and future-forward ideation.”

Hongjoong did not look particularly impressed, since he had listened to enough ATINY explain to him some outrageous interpretations of the lore, that were anything but correct. But he was intrigued enough to motion to you to go on. And that, was when he had signed up for the shock of a lifetime.

You launched into a monologue that first, briefly summarised the relationship between every era, every little diversion and even the selection of concepts for stages. You were showcasing that really, to you, it had been simple all along, and you had been merely enjoying how they were executing what was already out in the open. When you transitioned smoothly into expressing your musings on future releases and the avenue down which the story will go, Hongjoong was dead quiet, and even stopped rocking in his chair. His jaw began to drop as you revealed a specific detail that was meant to be a plot twist – he had envisioned ATINY’s reaction so many times, and had been keeping this a secret even from his members, and here you were, saying it right back to him. Just who were you?

He was equal parts impressed and terrified, since you were a walking computer of ATEEZ knowledge. You could basically compromise the entirety of KQ with the amount of information you held. There was no choice now, it was not even a matter of trust – it was basically essential that you joined them at least for the sake of being silenced. He recalled how he had said to Seonghwa that he expected you would know at least a bit of the lore to a high level – well, he had never expected you to be able to lead a discussion on it. Hongjoong now desperately wanted to invite you to a chat with him and the CEO. This was essential for the business.

“Well, these are just my thoughts and feelings, of course. So take it with a pinch of salt.” You finished, smoothing the creases at the bottom of your shirt, a habit you had formed to calm your nerves during presentations.

“That is one big pinch of salt, Y/N. I think I will have to have you sign an NDA for that. And jeez, this has probably been the most original way someone had ever pledged allegiance to the ATEEZ mission… ever.” He whispered, suddenly looking a LOT more tired than he did at the beginning of your conversation.

“Thank… you?”

“Yeah… uh… so… where was it you wanted to go?” he recalled that he had not even asked what the public space was.

“Noraebang.”

“What the fu- did you actually just make my soul leave my body to ask if you could go sing some songs with Seonghwa?” he face palmed and massaged his temples. Damn, you really were a STEM person. Very careful. Though he could vibe with that – Seonghwa was not kidding when he said you were a mature and responsible human.

“Uh… well I needed to check with you because this is a venture outside of more secluded locations, I needed to hear your thoughts on whether it would be okay for Seonghwa to appear in a noraebang, how and when it would be possible-”

“My one request is you don’t talk lore with the guy, because I still want to maintain some authority. And ask him to take you to KQ at some point after, and I can arrange a meeting for then. I am not kidding about the NDA.”

“Sure. Thank you. Then the rest is… up to me?”

“Yes, go wild. Well, not wild, but I assume you know what a ‘safe and secure’ wild is?”

“That is basically what physics is.”

“Understandable-”

“-have a great day.”

“Yeah you are a walking green flag in my eyes, Y/N. I’ll text you some of the times when Seonghwa is free this week so you can organise the noraebang date, m’kay?”

“Perfect, thank you so much!”

When you ended the call, Hongjoong yeeted himself onto the sofa, face down, and began to run through the conversation that he would have to have with management – ‘big reveal an astrophysicist knows more than the group about the storyline that the group follows’.

-

Seonghwa was not enjoying the continuous winking from Hongjoong, not one bit. In addition, the fact that, upon receiving some kind of message on his phone, Wooyoung entered full sneak and snoop mode and kept on infiltrating the eldest members’ room – fifteen times in the last hour, to be exact, did not bode well for Seonghwa’s sanity. Though at least the latter member appeared to still be clueless, and pestering Hongjoong more than him.

And it only built up come the time of Seonghwa’s date with you. You had suggested to meet right outside the dorms, saying that it was going to be a surprise. His mind went right back to high school when there had been pop quizzes and surprise assessments – totally not emotional trauma speaking for him there. He recalled you had talked about some kind of conference, or convention related to space research – what if you were going to take him there? As much as he was into seeing you be very excited, and he was interested in the reality that inspired some of his favourite things on the planet, his brain would erupt or turn into goo from that much content.

He already had a hard time reviewing the online flashcards that he had created for whenever you would mention some kind of concept or word that he did not quite understand. Though you did not do it often, and never, ever did the horrid thing of overusing complicated terms just to put yourself above someone, he still went out of his way to study the thing that appeared to come naturally to your after so many years of practice, study and beyond impressive dedication to the craft. He felt that you deserved more than he could offer, that you were on your own gorgeous wavelength, and that he could only dream to reach it – if it could happen at least sometimes, that would be enough.

“Dude you are actually scary, why are you looking at that?” San slinked right up to him, pointing at the screen where there was a diagram explaining redshift and blueshift.

“Because I am ascending, San.”

“Hwa, you are not a scientist so why are you-” Mingi, who was in the process of trying to sneak a snack from the kitchen in his pocket, called out, but was quickly cut off by Hongjoong, who was standing right by his room’s door.

“-because he is respectful. If you guys had as much dedication as the guy then maybe, just maybe you would be able to carry the lore or at least pretend to understand it.”

“Why so salty?” San interjected, allowing Mingi to complete his mission without being spotted.

“Excuse you that’s called being well-seasoned.” Hongjoong retorted, not being quite sure what he meant but at least it was not salty.

“Ah yes, something that a near-retired gent such as yourself and a Thanksgiving turkey have in common.” Wooyoung appeared out of his room, shooting finger guns at the captain.

“Nah turkey doesn’t do it.” Yeosang called out, only having tuned into the conversation once something bird related was mentioned.

“Yes you guys, we have all converted to ‘blue bird’~” Yunho imitated Yeosang’s line in Halazia, deepening his voice. He was currently splayed out on the living room couch, trying to control his rage as he was repeatedly losing to Jongho at FIFA.

“We are not EATING the BLUE BIRD you GUYS!” Hongjoong sighed and tried to end the conversation.

Seonghwa sent him a grateful glance for the effective de-railing. As the members disappeared back into their respective corners of the dorm, he settled back down into one of the dining room chairs, only to be joined by Yunho, who decided to ‘take a break because he was not really feeling the game at the moment’, much to Jongho’s amusement.

“Hey… all okay?” Yunho whispered, making sure that others would not overhear their conversation.

“Yeah.” Seonghwa locked his phone and placed it face down. He tried to muster a smile, but it was a little challenging given that he could not figure out what he was going to face this evening.

“How are things with her?”

“Good. Thank you for driving me those last couple of times by the way.” Seonghwa tried to bring up the positive. Yunho, though he was able to choose violence, ended up being incredibly supportive of Seonghwa and his seeing you. To the point where he was competing with Hongjoong for best advice giver and most encouraging homie.

“Oh no problem at all. It its just awesome to see you so smitten, really. Just let me know if you need anything else, like ever. I’ll be there.”

“It really means a lot. But today she is taking me to some mystery location apparently.”

“Well you know hyung and I are right here, just sound the alarm and we will speed to wherever.”

“What would I do without you, Yunho?”

“Take the taxi.”

“Respectfully, bruh.”

“What, am I wrong?”

“Nah.”

“Good, let’s stop being sappy and get you ready, yeah?”

“READY FOR WHAT?” of course Wooyoung had to have listened into the conversation, and was more than ready to learn the ins and outs of what kind of stuff has been going on with Seonghwa.

“Seonghwa, do you want to-”

“It’s a date, Woo. It’s a date.”

“CAN I COME?”

“NO, YOU CANNOT!?!?!”

At least now he did not need to spend the next two hours stressing, but instead fighting a barrage of questions coming from all directions at once. At least Hongjoong and Yunho were already in the know, and Yeosang and Jongho were just not bothered enough and respected a thing called privacy (also known as – they will not hear the end of this from Wooyoung later anyways, so why bother now). So, he was getting it easy.

-

Out of all the places in Seoul where you could have taken him out on a date, a noraebang was probably one of the furthest down on the list. You had never explicitly expressed any interest in performing music or signing or… anything to do with you personally engaging in the art. You had given him the impression of exclusively being a listener, rather than someone who would belt songs into a microphone in front of a TV screen for fun. But he was not complaining. This was right up his alley.

You had taken every precaution, even if it meant paying a higher booking fee, checking the blueprints of the place to make sure you went down corridors with less people, choosing a noraebang that was primarily automated with little staff… you wanted this evening to be about Seonghwa and him having fun, rather than him having to worry about everything and everyone.

It was nothing short of brilliant to watch him as he ambled down to the room under the neon lights, excited at every piece of décor, and poking you a little whenever he would hear snippets of songs that he recognised. It was like someone had pulled a switch inside him, and the previously distressed and anxious Seonghwa was nowhere to be seen. This was the power of passion, and of music. And you felt beyond guilty for somehow having had played a part in making him believe that you did not want to see this.

Though nothing was explicitly your fault, and you did talk with Seonghwa about his life and abouthis career, you felt like you could, and should have tried harder. He deserved so much more than what you could offer, so you were willing to do anything to simply make him smile. And a trip to the noraebang was, as it turned out, a fantastic start.

You two had started off the evening with a couple of classic 90s hits, Dance with DOC by DJ DOC and I Know by Seo Taiji and the Boys, which progressed to Seonghwa fully serenading you with Perfect Man by Shinhwa, which you had picked because “haha, Seonghwa – Shinhwa sounds similar”, not realising that your ears were about to be blessed. Then you had made the discovery that Seonghwa was a girl group dance machine, and from Wonder Girls, to miss A to 2NE1 you two were losing yourself in the music, with Seonghwa actively trying to teach you key points of every choreo. As you came closer and closer to choosing more recently released tunes, however, you noticed a lull in Seonghwa’s enthusiasm. He appeared to be hesitant in carrying on with your concert, glancing at you more often, asking if you were okay, if you were happy, what your preferences were.

As minutes turned into an hour, and then were beginning to approach the second, he started getting worried about your interest. Were you doing this because you actually wanted to, or because you felt pity for him and wanted to ‘bring yourself down to his little bubble’ and have a good sing-along. Long rumination session short – he needed a reminder for just what he had achieved.

With every look he was sending in your direction, you were getting more and more annoyed. Not at Seonghwa, but at the fact that he was so quick to disregard his brilliance. Compare himself. View himself as someone who had 'not done much'. While being humble was admirable, and how he was grateful to everyone who was helping him made your heart swell, he was approaching irrational levels of self-disregard.

"Hey, Seonghwa. Can I quickly tell you something?"

"Oh if you are tired we can-"

"What makes you happy?"

"What?"

"What makes you happy?"

"Uhm... is this a trick question?"

"This is not a quiz, Seonghwa. What I want to hear is the truth. Otherwise, I will just try to answer for you.”

"You?"

"Smooth, but scratch that for a second. Does music make you happy? In another life, would you still be ATEEZ?"

"...Yes."

"Good! That is what I wanted to hear. So why are you not living it when you are with me?"

"But I... well... we bonded over space? And Lego? And sci fi and... things not to related to music... so I decided that this was what would help me be closer to you."

"I am glad that it helped us bond, I really am. But at the same time, I am upset that I made an impression on you that this was all I was interested in. I know you go out of your way to learn more about what I do. I know that you spend hours picking apart the vocabulary, the ideas I drop without thinking. I know that you care so much and put that above what you love. But this is consuming you. I am so sorry for it. I am taking away from your happiness."

"But this is not... your fault? In the slightest? I want to learn more, and I want to know what you like-”

"Relationships are a two-way street, Seonghwa. So, if there is imbalance, I am to blame too. I like you for who you are, not for who you try to morph yourself to be. I am an idiot for not diving into music until now. I am upset at myself for not enabling you to shine to the fullest. Seonghwa, you are radiant. You are the most hardworking, respectable, persevering individual I know. You remember those times you mentioned how you approach practice? Passing it of as nothing special? Well I can guarantee you, you are one of the few who is so damn passionate and so deeply caring about the future, about ATEEZ, about music. You breathe this, and I want to see more of it. You deserve more than what the universe has to offer, and I as an astrophysicist can say that. And you, as an idol, singer, rapper, performer, dancer, artist, role model, actual model and SO MUCH MORE, can do me a favour and BELIEVE IN YOURSELF AND LOVE WHAT YOU HAVE ACHIEVED. You have so much to be proud of, and yes, I understand that sometimes there are days where you doubt yourself and are down in the dumps - hell, I have been there myself, but just know, that even if you feel that way, neither your fellow members, nor I feel the same. You are a guiding star for many, and the one I will always look for in the infinite expanse."

"I... I really don't know what to say.... Y/N..."

You could see that Seonghwa was beginning to tear up - you had expected for him to be the type of person to take such things more deeply, but did not predict that you would be misty-eyed right there with him. Before either of you became a sobbing mess, Seonghwa pulled you close, and into a tight hug. The way he held onto you alluded to a sort of fear. A fear that this was all an illusion. That it could disappear in the blink of an eye. But you were never going to feed into that. Instead, you moved your hands to cup his face, and stared deep into his eyes, finally closing the space between you with a sweet, reassuring kiss, full of love and promise.

--

You upheld your promise to Hongjoong, and had asked Seonghwa whether he would be comfortable with showing you around KQ. This had led him to immediately calling Hongjoong, who, much to his surprise, had apparently already organised everything for the same day next week, and now was simply asking Seonghwa to send his regards and warn you that you were probably going to be ambushed since the rest of the guys were going to find out pretty quickly. Oh, and that you had a meeting at two thirty in the afternoon, so better be at KQ by then. After ending the call, Seonghwa turned his head, eyes wide as a saucepans:

“Since when are you business partners with Hongjoong?”

“Probably since I had to call him to ask if it would be okay to organise this.” You gestured all around you, struggling to keep a straight face as EXO’s Growl played in the background.

“And what kind of meeting is he talking about?”

“Long story short I apparently need to sign a non-disclosure agreement. For… reasons.”

“No way. No freaking way you actually did it!” he exclaimed, putting his hands on his head.

“Did… what?” you tried to hide it since Hongjoong had asked you to not tell Seonghwa the specifics, but his reaction was too cute to resist.

“There is literally only one reason why he would want you to join in on some intellectual property protection schemes, and that is if you somehow managed to crack the lore. So… my darling has the ATEEZ multiverse in her hands isn’t that neat?!”

“I said nothing, by the way.”

“I don’t need you beefing with Joongie so neither of us know anything.”

--

Did you overprepare for what was supposed to be a casual visit? Yes. Did you regret it? Hell no. So, you lugged a heavy tote bag around with you with a great sense of pride, from room to room, studio to studio. Seonghwa asked you a couple of times whether it was too heavy or not, but you stated confidently that it was for an eight makes one team kind of moment.

The gifts contained in the tote bag were a collaboration between eight people, after all. It was not too hard to get in touch with everyone, and they were more than invested in the idea of figuring out a meaningful expression of gratitude. This was how, in a week’s time you had managed to coordinate the ultimate deliverable, exclusively for ATEEZ, and absolutely top secret.

Seonghwa managed to force entry into what had been planned as a meeting between you, Hongjoong and the CEO only, and ended up sitting in a corner, just loving the fact that you were his girlfriend and were so immersed in his work, as spooky theories and future release plans were being hurled around the room. Being sworn to secrecy had never felt as good for you as it did now, and the joy written across Seonghwa’s face as you ended up being able to uphold a discussion about some obscure science fiction anime that the CEO was a fan of served as further motivation.

After finishing the meeting and making your way to a staff-only cafeteria for a late lunch together with Hongjoong and Seonghwa, you were stopped on your tracks by a very distinct shout from behind you.

“SPACE RACE!?”

“Oh so you were not kidding when you said they interrogated you huh?” you turned to Seonghwa after having registered that the rest of ATEEZ were about to stampede you.

“Yep, and that, my dear, was Wooyoung altering you of his presence. Whether you stay still or run it does not really matter. He has you on his radar.” Seonghwa warned you, placing a hand on the small of your back.

“And his girlfriend is my friend.”

“You have too much power, I respect you.” Hongjoong whispered as the three of you turned to greet the rest of the members.

Yunho pushed himself through, introducing himself as the designated driver to a lot of your functions with Seonghwa, for which you bowed to him and thanked him. Yeosang mentioned that your work was very cool, and how he had read your interview in a science magazine published a few months ago, which took you aback, but made you feel honoured. The rest of the members were equally polite, though Jongho was the only one who managed to control his volume when greeting you.

“So, you here to talk science?”

“Only science that’s related to ATEEZ, so if you follow Hongjoong, Seonghwa and I to the cafeteria, I shall share all.”

And who would not sign up for a little mystery?

Once everyone had sat a large table, and were more or less settled down, you finally felt like you could reveal what had been prepared. But, not before quickly shooting a text to a group chat of all your collaborators: “it is happening”.

After looking around the oversized bag, you finally took out gift number one. It was a miniature FIFA World Cup style trophy, engraved with ‘ATEEZ’ and ‘8 makes 1 team’ right at the base. You noticed Jongho go pale, just as you had expected.

Then, there was a game for the console. A side project which a high profile game developer who you admired had been working on for what had been a few months apparently, but managed to wrap up in the time you had set – a Super Smash Bros style multiplayer, but with the boys as the playable characters. Yunho began to look side to side, trying to figure out whether it was only him to realised exactly who was behind this gift.

The next gift was a double combo – it was a CD, recorded by a rapper that was currently rapidly rising to fame, together with a well-designed booklet on the inside, containing the lyrics translated into seven other languages. Both San and Mingi melted into a puddle at the side, punching each other out of excitement.

One of your favourites was a present from your good friend at ‘dream-ity’ – an array of cookies with ornate icing designs, made to look exactly like the various editions of all albums that ATEEZ had ever released. You could hear Wooyoung whispering to himself ‘this cannot be happening and when did she have the time’ over and over again.

Next were eight custom jewellery pieces, matching bracelets for each of the members that were from a not yet available, highly exclusive collection from ARNURI. You had no idea how you had convinced the designer and owner of the brand to just gift that on a whim, but seeing just how Hongjoong.exe ceased to work explained it all.

Was it possible to make a mini magazine in the span of a week? Apparently so, especially when an expert has access to top quality blackmail material collected by none other than Yeosang. And that was exactly what he gravitated towards as soon as you produced it out of the bag. He leafed through page after page, seeing a collection of inside jokes, quotes and memes from both the internet and from his stories of the boys, and was near tearing up.

Seonghwa was staring at you, flabbergasted as you produced a framed mini poster. While the rest of the members were cooing over the various ATEEZ-themed presents, you looked at him, and quietly explained:

“So, this… this is a star map. Basically, how the sky looked like above Seoul, South Korea when you guys made your debut. And under this,” you turned the poster the other way around, and from behind the frame produced a certificate, “is a document confirming you having your own personal star, named after ATEEZ. So, here’s that.”

He covered his mouth with his hand, stifling a gasp.

“Eight makes one team?” you tried, noticing that all the members were either texting, or already calling their special people.

Seonghwa reached over to you, gleaming, thanking the universe time and time again. As he took your hand in his, and looked into your eyes, making time freeze, he whispered:

“Something tells me it’s sixteen.”

[tollingreminiscentbells]

I have . . . a lot of comments to reply to. I was traveling all week and actually got home at 21:00 last night, then posted the final chapter of All changed and went to bed. I will be replying to comments, but that's a project in and of itself and will take a minute. Please don't take that to mean it's some kind of chore—replying to comments is part of this for me because fandom is a community.

But I have some thoughts and feelings that I am going to put under a cut because I don't want to ruin anything for someone who hasn't read but might.

For a story I didn't exactly intend to write, it ended up being some of the best writing I've done in years. I initially took RadioApple for a fling, right up until I got overly invested in Lucifer's characterization. I'm not here to criticize or bash. Write the stories and make the art that give you joy, and never apologize for it.

But a lot of people write Lucifer too soft, and a little too human, for my taste. I want Lucifer the devil, ancient and eternal. He's a tragic figure in the literary sense—the architect of his own downfall. He has always believed that he knows best, and he destroyed himself (with a lot of collateral damage) in his crusade to be right. But he is trying to be better. Still callous, still selfish, still a fucked-up hypocrite, but trying.

Then there's Alastor the violent sinner who has proudly earned his eternal damnation. I lovingly call him Lucifer's cringe-fail loser second wife because he thinks he's hot shit and then almost gets himself killed more than once by way of his own hubris. Alastor has never been in love before and he struggles with it, with how to love someone and be loved, but he's trying, too.

I also just really wanted to write an asexual romance. I'm asexual, but open to sex, and that is how I write Alastor. His reasons and specific desires and how he thinks about and engages with Lucifer sexually. It isn't an aside or an obstacle, he doesn't suddenly start experiencing sexual attraction, it's just a facet of their relationship. They have an active sex life, but Lucifer still isn't the One Special Exception to Alastor's asexuality (I hate that).

And it's all to get to the love confession sequence in Transformed Utterly. Starting with Alastor's semi-lucid rambling, through Lucifer showing him his true form and the closest thing Alastor has ever had to a religious experience. His moment of seeing the mosaic in its entirety, for the first time. Their shared moment of intense intimacy, just being honest with each other, no defensiveness or affectation. It took, I don't know, maybe 87,000 words to get there, but it's the title—"all changed, changed utterly: a terrible beauty is born."

I write a very specific flavor of RadioApple. Next up is A Momentary Radiance, my Southern Gothic. Which, much like A Terrible Beauty, fits into a canon-adjacent AU timeline. It's a different genre, but in the "Alastor meets Lucifer before he dies" sub-category, so if you like my Lucifer, my Alastor, and my RadioApple, I like to think it will work for you. There will also be a few All changed side stories, at least one of which is going to be very unserious. Look, I think I'm funny and I'm going to subject all of you to it. That's just the cost of admission.

But the real point, in the end, is that I cherish everyone who came along on the journey. If you have questions, if there's something you want to know, my inbox is always open. I will be delighted to answer you, though fair warning: the answer might be a mystique-destroying "I don't know, it sounded good at the time."

💜

[the-tmnt-ficfinder]

Ficfinder finds: The Lemonade Leak

Chapter 19: The Sculptor

Chapter 19 Summary: No summary

The Sculptor: Appraisal and Ratings

(Don't know what fanfic "Appraisal and Ratings" means? Check out my explanation on my Main Masterpost! Looking for a different fanfic to read? Head on over to my Fanfic List Masterpost!)

Disclaimer: This fanfic is only available to those who have an Ao3 profile. This fanfic is written by @turtleinsoup, so go show them some love and support!!

The fanfic ratings are not based on quality, favoritism, or how good I think it is, but rather, how intense a subject may be. Like a movie review, or the tags on Ao3, letting the readers know what to expect.

Plot: 💛💛💛💛💛

"Plot is five out of five!! The jump from Donnie's POV to Mikey's is quick and jarring, but also incredibly effective!! Everything is going to be different now. Like, massively different!"

Suspense/Mystery: 💛💛💛💛🖤

"Suspense/Mystery is four out of five!! The suspense and mystery levels for this chapter originally start out low, as we the readers understand what happened between Donnie and Leo. Then as the story progresses, and more things are revealed, its suddenly apparent that the big picture had yet to be resolved."

Angst/Hurt: 💛💛💛💛💛

"Angst/Hurt is five out of five!! The amount of angsty emotions packed into this chapter is crazy!! The fear, the confusion, the dread, its all so potent!!"

Fluff/Comfort: 💛💛🖤🖤🖤

"Fluff/Comfort is two out of five! Some of the interactions between Mikey and Leo have some comforting elements to them, though it is somewhat marred by the severity of the situations."

Emotions Conveyed: 💛💛💛💛🖤

"Emotions Conveyed is four out of five!! Mikey's emotions are very powerful, and it really bleeds through into the writing!! The grief, the fear, its all so well written!!"

Drama/Tension Level: 💛💛💛💛💛

"Drama/Tension Level is five out of five!! The tension between Mikey and Leo very prominent, and the family drama is a big part of the story as the chapter progresses!!"

Triggers: 💛💛🖤🖤🖤

"Triggers for this chapter are two out of five. This chapter has less triggers, and more emotional angst in it. Most of the triggering things, are implied, or hinted at, rather than actually talked about or shown."

Legibility (Reading): 💛💛💛💛💛

"Legibility (Reading) is five out of five!! As this chapter is from Mikey's POV, I'd say its absolutely a wonderful read!! Its poetic, and flowing, different than the writing style of Leo's and Donnie's POVs."

Legibility (Audio): 💛💛💛💛💛

"Legibility (Audio) is five out of five! No weird formatting in this chapter!! So, its able to be listened to in audio book format!! Yay!!"

Length: 💛💛🖤🖤🖤

"Length is two out of five!! Chapter 19 of The Lemonade Leak takes about 14-15 minutes to listen to!!"

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

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The Lemonade Leak: Story Ratings and Chapter List

Personal thoughts on chapter below cut (Contains Spoilers)

Later, Mikey’d sketch over the memory, re-trace it for details, his mental brush hovering too long over the same spots, muddling Leo’s last expressions into loose suggestions. Mikey would re-tell them a thousand times. But here, oh no. His head was stuffed with crème au beurre, a savory-sweet non-knowing.

I absolutely adore how Mikey thinks in art terms, and baking terms. All creativity and creation. It’s fun to compare the thought style of the brothers, and how it affects how they interpret each others actions. 

Dr. Feelings didn’t answer. He was super silent lately, and a part of Mikey felt chewy about it, but maybe it was for the best! Mikey couldn’t trust him to do it. To help Leo. (Chocolate should be chocolate and nothing else, and all that!) Dr. Feelings would’ve tried to talk Donnie out of it.

It’s interesting how Dr. Feelings seems to be more of a presence in Mikey’s mind rather than a persona. I wonder, if that was built into his mind, like a fail safe mode to get his brothers to stay together. Because we often see that Mikey is very sensitive and caring. He’d never yell at people. However, Doctor Delicate Touch is very harsh, and Doctor Feelings takes no crap. They both deal with different things. Dr. Delicate Touch with physical issues, and Dr. Feelings with emotional problems. I wonder, does Mikey control this?

Where’s he at? Supply run? He tried to think back. Did he tell me? It was hard to remember. A lot of things were, lately. Memories kept smudging from frantic retracing, mental brush strokes unwilling to form.

Like a hand brushing over a graphite pencils drawing to many times over. Eventually it all smudges together, and bold light and dark contrasts all become gray. 

Mikey kept Dr. Positive at gunpoint while he closed the door to Donnie’s room.

Maybe because he doesn’t wanna be overly hopeful? Or because he doesn’t want Dr. Positive to leave… 

Mikey warped his arms around Leo’s neck and pressed his nose against the base of Leo’s throat. (By his nature. Like apricot confiture, clementine compote, or the skin of a peach – Orange was a sticky color. His brothers understood that the way they understood their own hues in the picture.) Leo didn’t try to wipe him off. This close, Leo’s scent filled him in a thick rush, petrichor and damp. At the base of Leo’s pulse, Mikey could make out every nuance, every past palette. The dried blood layering him, the sour lick of chemicals and far-away places. Those were the new normal.

The imagery that all these poetic sentences bring, is beautiful in almost a haunting way. I love how Mikey’s thoughts and emotions are objectified. How they’re expressed through colors, and sounds, and flavors. It’s simply stunning. 

Mikey tightened his hold and bumped his cheek to Leo’s. Dotting his purr with playful little pecks. “I love hanging out with you, you’re so cool! And fun. You’re so dang important to me.” He felt Leo exhale shakily, sinking into Mikey’s embrace, heavily. His muscles fought with themselves but lost against their own instincts. Leo buried his face in Mikey’s warm shoulder.

Out of all the brothers, Mikey is the one who is most in tune with his emotions. He’s also the one who is most in tune with his animalistic instincts, as they go hand in hand. You can clearly see how this give's Mikey a leg up on his brothers. They're all powerful in their own ways, and this is one of Mikey's ways.

Donnie, Leo. Missing. It was like half of Mikey’s body had been amputated, and he was left with phantom pain in every movement. His body itched and burned, so much; it was hard to feel much but the missing, missing, missing of my brothers.

Mikey’s role in the unit is to keep his family, so it makes sense for that to be instinct driven. It’s not even something he can control. Just how Donnie only feels welcome when he has a purpose, Mikey only feels happy when his brothers are around. Incomplete without them. 

Dad didn’t look up from the kitchen table. “What do you mean to say, Orange?” he asked.

Now that Donnie's gone, now that Splinter is no longer taking any of those specialized pills, he's up and about, and interacting with his sons.

Now, my last little thought is on the chapter name. The Sculptor is a very fitting name for Mikey. I find it interesting that the name the painter, or artist wasn't chosen. The sculptor seems much more fitting for this Mikey in particular. A sculptor, to create art, slowly chips away at a hard exterior, till its the shape they want it to be. Occasionally, they'll mold soft clay, shifting it to how they want it to look so that once it dries, it'll be in its correct shape. Other artists, such as painters add paint to a canvas, while a sculptor already has what they're given. Mikey chips away at his brothers, and molds them when they're soft, turning them into the art they need to be.

[rosesnink]

Mad Love

Author's Notes

During the holidays, Thia @oh-so-youre-a-nerd and I made a content trade and today I sent the final product to them and wanted to share it with y'all! Read the warnings and tags just in case, though.

English is not my first language, so please forgive any typos and grammar mistakes

Check out Thia's amazing art here!

Summary: Mr. Sinclaire and Tulsi share a sizzling moment in the carriage (based on b1 chapter 8's event)

Word Count: 1.1k

Category: Pining, historical, slowburn

Rating: PG-13

Pairing: Mr. Sinclaire x MC (Tulsi)

Book: Desire and Decorum

The couple ran towards the carriage, the rain turning into a full-blown storm. Mr. Sinclaire dragged Lady Tulsi as far as he could, considering how small she was. At last, he spotted one and shouted “Sir! Sir? The lady needs to go to Grosvenor Square! I can pay!”

The driver, not denying himself good coin, ushered the couple inside and after clarifying the destination, started driving towards the luxurious neighbourhood. Still panting from the exercise and the events of the bridge, Mr. Sinclaire took a breath. He looked at Lady Tulsi, who somehow managed to look beautiful despite being soaked through and panting from such an effort.

He would’ve offered his coat as a relief, but he was as soaked as she was. The last thing he needed was to worsen still her condition. Regaining her breath, she looked at him, and by God, was she beautiful: with her rich brown skin, and her fiery red hair, as red as the end of the flames in the fireplace back at his house.

“That took… a turn.”

“I-it did.”

He couldn’t help being nervous around her. They were soaked, the dress’ fabric was feeble and one could see a glimpse of what it hid. He could see a glimpse of her chemise, which hugged her figure perfectly, allowing him to see certain curves that a man ought not to. Swallowing hard, he looked away. It was improper to gaze upon an earl’s daughter in such a way. Had he not been soaked as well, he would’ve offered his jacket without hesitation.

“Did you mean it?” Tulsi asked “when you said…”

“Of course I did, my lady. With my heart on a fist.”

Her enchanting brown eyes gazed at him intensely, and he gulped, his heart beating impossibly fast. He liked to think that the thrill on his body was due to the cold rather than Tulsi’s effect on him. Not tearing his gaze, he brushed away a strand hair from her face “There’s something about you, Lady Tulsi… The way you challenge me, fuddle me, the way you talk, that beautiful smile that makes my head spin… I can’t have enough, I crave more, I crave—,” He stopped short, swallowing hard. If he continued, he might regret it later. Or not. He did not know which one was worse.

Tulsi leaned in his direction, and he sucked up his breath “Crave what, Mr. Sinclaire?”

He fought against his best senses, but his eyes nevertheless landed on her lips: a dark pink with pink rogue and probably tasted of roses. The thought made his heart beat even faster, and before he could even think of it, he was leaning towards her as well “Can’t you tell, my Tulsi?”

Her hands were on his chest, drawing small and sizzling circles on his damp clothes, and his whole body felt like he was on fire. Her hands were surely smooth, as smooth as a baby’s skin, and warm. Her hands then went up to his upper chest, where he was sure she felt his heartbeat. His body responded by leaning dangerously closer to her, and her hands were then on his shoulders. Against his best senses, his hand went to her untamed red hair, and the other to her gorgeous blue dress, returning the favour. A throaty hum came out of her, which encouraged him to carry on. They flushed their chests together, the damp clothes giving the other a forbidden glimpse of one another. His hands at last found at last her hair, and buried his fingers in its scalp. It was smooth, like touching the finest silk. His other hand found the small of her back, and her body was probably as warm as his own. Her hands then found his jaw, which she traced, and he had to bite back certain noises coming from his throat. He shuddered from pleasure when her fingers found his lips, tracing them, and he nearly ended such torture. He kissed the tip of her finger, and his eyes found hers. They were blown with wanting and yearning, as surely his were, her cheeks warm and her mouth open in a small ‘o’, much like himself. He worked the courage to break the embrace when the carriage passed over a pebble, and both tumbled to the floor, Tulsi on top of him.

Her face was now only a few inches away from him, and Tulsi murmured something. His hands were now on her waist, and felt every inch of her, and her of him. He could not speak, he could barely breathe or move. This position was all too perfect, the woman he had always dreamt of having at his entire mercy, and nothing but a dark carriage all for themselves.

“Will you look at that, Mr. Sinclaire,” mused Tulsi “it seems we have some sort of habit on tumbling onto one another. What will you do now?”

He took a deep breath “I—I don’t… mean to take such liberties with you, my lady?”

She purred sensually in his ear “But what if they’re eagerly given, sir?”

His whole body tensed of anticipation, wanting nothing to end such torture and kiss her until he could no longer remember his own name. Her hand traced his cheeks, drawing their bodies impossibly close, a small, throaty moan coming out of him.

“Don’t, Tulsi.” He whispered.

“Whyever not?”

“Because if we start now, I won’t stop myself from doing… things a gentleman ought not to do to a lady.”

“I don’t wish to be a lady right now.”

By God, she was an expert at driving him mad, was she not? Many sinful thoughts once again raced in his mind, many terrible ones a gentleman ought not to think. If he could, he’d give himself to her, allow her to make him hers, and hers alone. What an incredible feeling that must be, to have Tulsi claim him as he so badly wanted her to.

But the rumours of her came back. He’d only make them true, and Edgewater would sink. Mustering an Herculean effort, he got up, not daring to touch her, for if he did, he’d be back to the limbo where only he and Tulsi would ever exist. Her untamed red hair, her warm brown skin, her full lips, her intoxicating warm body…

He cleared his throat as the driver pulled to her destination. He helped her out and kissed her hand. Suddenly, her lips were on his cheek, and he inhaled sharply “Good night, sir. Let’s do this again sometime.”

If such thing happened, he would surely die of heart palpitations. Coming back onto the carriage, composing himself, indicated the driver to take him home, a few neighbourhoods away from hers.

If it wasn’t clear how maddening his affections for her were then, now all doubts had been cleared in a few minutes.

[avissapiens]

JBS retrospective.

Jockbull summer was definitely something where I shot for the stars. 15 tasks where everyone else had only 5. Fairly stringent time limited goals that got more intense and all consuming with each set that was developed. I knew I wasn't going to be perfect at it or even approach 50% completion. And yet i still feel fucking amazing to have done it! In an 8 week span i jockified certain segments of my life in ways that really did feel like they resonated through my whole being. It sounds a bit hyperbolic, I know. But I do think that undergoing such a structured battery of tasks, having it constantly in my mind every single day, even to the point that for 8 weeks straight my phone background was some of the images I generated for each set of post diaries did something to me. Thinking about these Jockbull tasks definitely left a mark on my mindset. And the tasks themselves left a mark on my life because I think some of them are simply going to stick with me. 

But they were starting to drag and i noticed myself getting more and more exhausted with..well..everything as the cut came to its end. So it had to come to a close as all good things must

Set A

 Of the tasks that are gonna stick with me here I definitely think elements of the competition task are gonna have a big impact. It was perhaps overenthusiastic to demand weekly competition from other people. But I have noticed my approach to things the longer I've held this task in my mind is a lot more geared towards winning and just enjoying competition in general. It’s still not fully realized yet though. There is more I can do to embody that jock mentality of victory at any cost. Maybe i should delve into some specific self programming so that i take it beyond just video games

The other task I think is going to stick is Baki. I just didn’t anticipate how fucking fun it would be and how much it aligns so well with my particular kink ecosystem. But moreover, I think deliberately pursuing baki rather than just mindlessly consuming it has opened me up for more media exploration, and exploration of the sort that will help me see the archetypes in more forms of art. That definitely had an impact on my vibes sets too. And in the time since then I've opened up to exploring shows like Letterkenny which has a whiff of jockbroness to it.

Set B

I feel like Set B was mostly more geared towards accomplishing a specific goal for the cut. And now that it’s accomplished and thensome I can thank it and file most of it away. Maybe bring some of it back around when I do a cut in future. One thing that will definitely be sticking is the Personal Training element. Keeping this task in my mind has really opened up the possibilities. Especially as I’ve talked it through with Abg and others more thoroughly. I want to keep synthesizing my loves and my passions. I moved here to NZ specifically because I wanted to combine my interests into something niche and eclectic but that could still serve me. And the same goes for Personal training. At first I thought I'd be stuck just working in a gym and I was fine with that. But I want more. I want to be able to take this knowledge, this business, and combine it with the different brilliant works I've already put so much work into. The abyss, the archetypes. I wanna do online training and help you all actually physically attain these goals and help you make a transformation Even more astonishing than my own. Combining Personal training and the hypnotic structures I've created. And I'd love to be able to make something steady and sustainable out of it so I can get my own space and grow even more while finishing my degree here. I know it’s lofty. But I've always put in the work and this is no exception. We’ll see how things go once I've got the quals.

Set C

I truly wish that the meditation task was the one I was gonna keep around. Set C however really illustrated how precarious setting too many things in stone can be. Daily routines, a biweekly creative work schedule, weekly fast days. It was a lot. Things eventually had to give and meditation was one of them. Now that I'm trying to gain some muscle mass, fasting days are actively counter productive. And being on commission mode means that a lot of my creative bandwidth is taken up by those. I will however be maintaining the daily routine. It’s not perfect. It never will be. And it sure as hell isn’t for everyone. But I am very much an abyssal creature of habit and structured chaos. And the creation of a daily routine for skincare, supplements, Breakfast. It all makes me feel a lot better and has 100% elevated my aesthetics. Not to mention really entwining himbo as something I relate with and aspire to more and more. For most of JBS i was also using a pretty strict time table for a bunch of summer related things.

But I've decided to retire it because the longer it went on, the more tired and numb I grew and the lower my success rate with any given day’s tasks were. But it was incredibly successful at the start of summer and allowed me to get a lot done and set a great momentum for the rest of it. My libido never really “went away” during the cut like sometimes happens to bodybuilders, but it defo got attenuated or at least shifted. But holy fuck now that i’m back on carbs you can bet that i’ll be doing task 3 almost unthinkingly

All in all, I really enjoyed this experiment and I’d love to try it again in a different form. Maybe with a wider sample of bros who might also benefit from the structure and accountability. In a way the dudes I generated these with stopped being the main form of accountability for me, and you all reading the blogposts and listening to the Voice logs kept me going instead. So thanks so much. Back to regularly scheduled programming

[caluski]

hi… any tips how to spend your birthday alone :-(

hiii im so sorry baby i know this sucks :(((((( i might be not the right person to answer this bc i always freak out about my birthdays BUT maybe some of these could soothe your nerves a little as well.

choose music for yourself. what i usually do when im having a tough day is picking either a) a playlist of mine that i know will keep me feeling alright, or b) a playlist with new music that i can listen to thorough the day in hopes of finding something new (like my favorite genre playlists from everynoise.com). if youre likely to feel crappy on ur bday best to not choose either too sad or too happy music!!! too sad for obvious reason, but too happy - might make you feel even worse, like forcing yourself to smile in the mirror when you feel like the absolute failure. if youre out of ideas lmk what genres/artists you like and i would love to try to pick out a playlist for you!

the classic go to cinema/cafe/restaurant/gym/beach whatever to keep yourself busy. im sure you probably thought of this yourself but its a standard advice for a reason; activities are good for you!!!!!! since its summer, maybe your city has some fun events? flea market or thrifting? being a tourist at your own city? maybe a free museum or art gallery exhibit? think it through, im sure theres something you can come up with!!!! for me, free-to-attend events work best, because i dont have to worry about feeling guilty about spending much money.

if youre like me, you might feel worse if you pretend its a day like any other - for me, celebrating things is super important, so i have to acknowledge birthdays properly. so what i do, instead of acting like its nothing, is trying to make it as special as possible. if you cant be with your loved ones, try to make it a day of preparing yourself for the upcoming year. for me, its usually meditation, taking some time to relax with my thoughts (like during yoga), lighting candles, and so on and so on. for me this past sunday, it was a lot of listening to the rain and intense wind. maybe take a super long bath, or if you prefer being more active, a longer than usual walk/run to help you clear your mind.

this is connected to previous point, but - remember to look at your future with hope no matter what. its really important to try and find positives, even if being alone for one reason or another sucks so much. good ways of doing it are listing ways in which your life has become better than last year (there MUST be something - maybe youve become better at sex, maybe youre feeling a little more comfortable in your gender expression, maybe you finally learned how to love food you used to be grossed out by, whatever). think of what youve overcome since past birthdays, think of how youve grown or what youve learned, and then set yourself some goals to achieve over the next year. dont be TOO ambitious because then youll just feel upset bc you didnt manage to meet your expectations. aim low and specific! explore a new city, try to overcome your anxiety about phonecalls, find a new comfort tv show, and such. think of small things youve always wanted to improve on that feel more achievable. you can put it into a letter to yourself to open in a year, maybe a word document, an extra long journal entry. remember that a you from the next year will likely read this! be kind to them and give them as many excuses to feel proud and hopeful as possible.

start the good change & embrace new things! dont let yourself drown in sadness by staying in bed all day. its okay to have bad days and let yourself process them - we cant possibly be doing our best all the time, and sometimes slowing down for a moment really is necessary to keep moving forward - but it'll feel so much better to do something meaningful (to you). if youve been wanting to start working out for a while, a day like this might be good to do it for the first time. or maybe youve been putting off cleaning your bedroom or your bathroom or something. change your sheets and pajamas! start fresh! crack open a new book! maybe you have an unused notebook laying around - start a scrapbook with a beautiful collage on the very first page. make that recipe youve kept in your bookmarks for years - its so fun to look back at your memories like, "oh i remember ive made my very favorite meal for the very first time on that lonely birthday!!! how symbolic is that, now i cant imagine celebrations without it!!!" and so on and so on.

and these might be super obvious but theyre also super important: stay well fed and hydrated! get plenty of fresh air! if possible reach out to someone for some human contact! go to bed at proper hour or take naps (dont stay up for too long esp if you know you'll do nothing but feel sad - and lack of sleep will only make you feel shittier).

these might be pretty plain but i hope something can be helpful. so sorry about your birthday being in solitude! i hope the next one will be much, much better and you'll be surrounded by your loved ones. happy birthday sweet pea! and let me know how the day goes for you :-) mwah!

[tfdtreasurer]

hi sooo i have very very VERYYY intense eridan x yn brainrot happening and its all i can post about and think about, can you please tell me how the actual fuck do i cope with the ampora brainrot TEACH ME UR SECRETS /hj (funnily enough i found ur blog through you liking one of my eridan posts, soo yk)

It is not a total exaggeration to say that Eridan brainrot has taken over the entirety of my creative thinking capabilities. Some would see this as a negative, but I believe I have achieved zen mastery over my brainrot, which I think is the best case scenario, very possibly enlightenment. So in short, embrace the Eridan and channel it creatively. This also applies to literally any character that you form brain rot over, so I hope the rest of this ask may be universal to other people too.

The long and universal answer is that you have to start by forming an in depth interpretation of the character that you can creatively work with. Research everything you possibly can about them and when you're done research more until you're so wrapped up in thoughts and ideas you want to spin into yarns you're not sure what are spurious connections or load bearing columns. Link your thoughts about the character to your own personal philosophy on nothing less grand than life itself. From there, anything you will want to say will steadily become clearer, and you'll be better equipped to express it in artistic and creative medium.

For me with Eridan I can spend hours in Wiki holes and esoteric and specialist websites for the strangest things. I know the symbolism of the water carrier and the shoulder yoke. I know the myth of Ganymede, cup bearing and drinking poison. I know the exact names and manufacturers of 1800s whaling equipment, their mechanisms and specifications. I know that Starbuck is the name of a significant whaling dynasty. I know the scents of lightning. I know the instruments of the apocalypse and armies. I know the complicated etymology of romance. I know emperors and conquerors. I know of biblically wicked kings. Think of nothing that you research or notice shallowly. Look for deeper meaning because even if you determine it's not intended in that case, you can create something with it where it is. Do that and your repertoire of symbols and devices will become infinite.

At every step and revelation about Eridan as a character I related it to my own worldview and practiced endless self inquiry like a fucked up fandom fueled Socratic dialogue. And as my worldview refined, without meaning to sound ridiculous, I came to view things through the lens of Eridan goddamn Ampora. Does that sound ridiculous? Yes, absolutely. Would I admit in person? Maybe on my deathbed or in a criminal confession. Is it the truth? Yeah. Sorry to get all hippie communist all of a sudden but I can seriously link Eridan to my thoughts on capitalism and class struggle, on anarchism and anti-authoritarianism, the status quo and revolution, on psychology and how to relate to our fellow human beings. Not because she's instrumental in getting to those beliefs, but because the art I want to create to express myself and consequently the beliefs that form myself will inexorably use my ultra brairot powers to do so. Even if you don't seek to create art, training yourself to look deeper and analyze at that level about anything will help you consuming art in a way that will give you so much satisfaction in the long run.

For me personally, I have written works of art that are just channels for all my complicated thoughts on Eridan. I've written my own version of orphaners, of kids that wanted different lives than the one they ended up with, allegories of the Aquarius zodiac, magicians and scientists, punks and soldiers, bespectacled and pinstripe-wearing villains. I've entered them into contests and to literary journals. On small scales, I've won money and gotten published.

Yes I realize that it's mostly plain ol brain rot but at the same time a part of me is always wondering if this is just the nature of how we're influenced by art. The way that Homestuck is written feels like it's somebody's own experience with an obsession with something in particular that spiraled outward into all these esoteric sources that were then synthesized into a singular creative work. Gnosticism and genetics and Internet culture and video games and music, but also little its and bits of things like lovecraftian horror, anime, chess, Peter Pan. To borrow the words of a recently relevant political figure,

"You think you just fell out of a coconut tree? [...] You exist in the context of all in which you live and what came before you.”

It's the same thing with art. I came to understand at some point in my life that I am less merely effected by my influences, and more possessed by them. In writing, I find myself acting irrationally, random impulses to include depths of symbolic comparison that nobody but myself could possibly hope to understand. I try to tame these impulses when they arise, make them more accessible, but my subconscious psyche is a pair of invisible hands perpetually at the wheel. So, I really just wish that someone eventually reads into my writing and is just as possessed by my words as I was by something else writing them. Even if it's not what I intended or the ghosts possessing me even intended, because writing is strange like that, in how we leave so much in the hands of the audience to interpret their own way. Like, I don't know if the cup-bearer-zodiac-Eridan drinking something later linked to an allusion of poison was intentional, but it will be for my own art. I don't know if Eridan's scare-everyone-away personality was connected to the skunk stripe-like hair, but for the characters I write it will. And I hope my legacy is like a legion of weird eridan-like ghosts haunting others' writing everlasting into eternity.

So, yeah, how do you cope with Eridan Ampora brainrot? Learn to love it, and learn to use it. Most of all, learn to love using it.

[nightingale-fic-recs]

By the Grace Of [Sorcerer Rogier x Fem!Tarnished] - Chapter One

Summary: Rogier meets a Tarnished and finds what he’s been searching for- in more ways than one.

Author’s Notes: 1K words to start! The Tarnished isn’t named in this chapter, but she will be. 😉 thank you to my beloved @halfmoth-halfman for giving me an excuse to post this. 💙

Disclaimer: I do not own any characters or events from Elden Ring

Warnings: abstract horror? I think? Unedited (basically), unfinished story- read at your own risk!

If he hadn’t watched it happen, he probably wouldn’t have ever known. He’d just stepped forward to peek out the doorway when a figure landed on the stones before him without a sound. The same Tarnished who’d fought Margit. She froze, lavender eyes locked on him as he paused.

“Ah, nice to meet you. The pleasure’s mine.” When she didn’t move, he went on, turning on his infamous breezy charm. “Rogier’s the name. A sorcerer, as you might’ve guessed.” She straightened slowly, eyeing him warily.

Rogier shifted, growing a bit nervous. He’d thought she might be friendly, after his aid in her fight against the Omen. Now, though he could hardly begrudge her caution, he wasn’t so sure. And she was beautiful in a way that was vaguely intimidating all on its own. Sooty lashes brushed her cheeks as she blinked at him, one slim hand on her sword hilt.

“I’m looking for a little something, here in the castle. When I’m not hotfooting it from the troops, that is.” He cocked a rueful grin, hoping for some expression. Nothing. “But enough about me. What are you doing here in Stormveil Castle? This place is bristling with Tarnished hunters, you know.” He was rambling, now. “They sacrifice our kind, for grafting. Not exactly a place I’d stroll into without a purpose in mind…”

“I’m here to defeat Godrick.” Her voice was soft and rough, low in a way he hadn’t expected. He blinked, momentarily thrown off guard.

“I see. Here to challenge Godrick, and lay your hands upon a Great Rune, are you?” She nodded, and he could feel himself relaxing. If only a bit. Then her gaze seemed to catch on something he couldn’t see before coming back to him. Bitterness flooded his throat, nearly choking him in its intensity. “You can see it then, I take it? The guidance of grace.”

She nodded, and he tried to level his voice when he replied. “Well, enjoy it while you can. I’m Tarnished, like you. But unlike you, I’ve seen neither hide nor hair of this guidance for the longest time.”

Her brow furrowed, and she stepped further into his little sanctuary. Rogier tried to mask the sharp spike of anxiety he felt, and was grateful when she came no further. He felt naked under her sharp gaze, pierced through and stripped of all his cavalier defenses. He tried to keep the panic and exasperation from his voice. “Still, I won’t forget how it felt when I first came here, to the Lands Between.” He’d erred too far on the side of caution. His voice was far more wistful than he would have liked.

The Tarnished hummed, finally taking her eyes from him to look around the room. He breathed out sharply, relieved. They rested for a moment on his fire, and Rogier extended a hand. After a moment’s hesitation, the Tarnished sat. Rogier realized that she was just as nervous as he. On the one hand, it filled him with pride that he could intimidate a warrior as fierce as she. On the other, it filled him with relief to have a peaceful encounter like this. Had she any wish to strike at him, she’d have done it by now.

“I’m privy to a few magical battle arts,” he blurted. She looked up, eyebrows raised. Rogier stumbled on, lowering himself to sit across the fire from her. “Would you care to learn one? As a fellow Tarnished, once guided by grace, I’d love to help you out, if it please.”

A wry smile quirked one corner of her lips, highlighting a fine scar there. “I’m afraid I’ve no aptitude for magic. Cold steel’s more my speed.”

“Oh?” Rogier grinned. He drew his rapier, carefully, holding it out handle first. The Tarnished took it gently from his hands, turning the blade this way and that reverently. “Keen to learn another battle art, are we?”

She looked up, then back to the hilt in her hands. “It’s a fine blade,” she admitted, turning it back toward him. He took it from her hands and leaned back to slide the blade into its sheath. The soft hiss of steel raised his eyes, but he found only another hilt before him.

Rogier’s eyebrows lifted. The blade was rusted, chipped in places and somewhat dull. “You used this… to fight Margit?”

She shrugged a muscled shoulder, not quite meeting his eyes. “I’ll replace it eventually. Just haven’t found anything better, yet.” She looked up then. “Thank you, by the way.” At his blank look, she went on. “For helping me.”

“Oh, that. Of course. As I said, fellow Tarnished and all that. Happy to help you out.”

She hummed again, tilting her head. “That doesn’t seem to be the case amongst us all.”

Rogier grimaced. “Come across someone less friendly?”

“Several someones, in fact.” He waited, but she offered no further comment before standing. “Thank you for sharing your fire with me. I’d best be getting on, though.” And off she went through the door, silently as she’d come. As eager as Rogier had been to escape from her eyes, her absence left him feeling bereft of comfort. He sat for a long while after she went, watching the space where she’d been.

There was a certain despair that accompanied meeting new Tarnished. Sometimes, when they were particularly rude, Rogier allowed himself to gleefully imagine the moment that they, too, lost the ability to see the guidance as he had. But only for a wink.

Tonight, he found himself hoping that just this once, that moment might take a long, long time. Perhaps even long enough that he could discern what made her attention so captivating.

And in the depths of the castle, pierced with Death itself and barely able to drag himself away, as he crawled on shaking arms, fumbling his Roundtable medallion out of his pocket, the only thing that kept him awake enough to escape was the memory of those eyes, burning into and through him. The memory of feeling, and the hope of feeling again, seen. Truly seen, for the first time.

[cafrinn]

embracing the feminine 12/13/24

i don't think i'm outlandish in stating that living as a woman its a consistent battle between you and the world. all women on the planet are familiar with the tornado that spirals in your head when thinking of how you play your role as a woman. who am i meant to be? how do i fit in enough to be desirable in society without sacrificing who i am as a person? am i anything more than just a woman? do i need to be? what can i do to become the best version of myself? why is this the prescription for being the ideal woman?

i can do my hair in 45 million different styles, calculate which outfits suite my body type, do my makeup in just the right way that makes me intriguing to others. all of this plus the million other things that are told to us in the woman's bible of existing. i walk into the world as the best version of myself everyday. i always try to look put together and exude the message that i have mastered how to be the perfect woman. even with all of this, i come home, take off this skin, and i ponder if i really am what i put into the world. is it all a lie? who do i do this for? yes it makes me feel amazing to look great, i think self care and effort in appearances is extremely important. on the other hand, who told me that this was the right way to be a woman? why is it that when i stray from the formula that i have created for myself to be a "divine feminine character" i feel so gross. i'm sure i'm not alone in this feeling. the one you get when your hair doesn't look right, your outfit makes you look "frumpy", your nails look a bit beaten, you did't have enough time to do good enough makeup, etc etc etc. to me, it feels dirty. to go out in public in a slight disarray appearance wise.

all this to say, what is the meaning of being a perfect woman? i'm not sure anyone has a clear cut answer to this. i'm sure that someone with a doctor in sociology can logistically pinpoint all of the characteristics society has been good for a woman to embody. that isn't what i am trying to get at. how does one feel comfortable in their gender identity without it feeling preformative? isn't that was gender is anyways? a societal construct in which we perform the play that the world has given to you based on the genitalia you were born with?

the debate of gender is one that i've thought about a lot in my time on earth. as someone in the LGBTQ+ community who has habitually inhibited online spaces designated for those in said community since i could navigate the online plane, i'm not stranger to discourse on gender. feminist spaces that say being a woman in this world is too confining. spaces in which gender non-conforming people share their stories in which the feminine was not something that spoke to them. this among many things has led deep introspection in my mind, mainly when i was a bit younger. i deliberated my own gender for quite some time. am i comfortable with being a woman? would i be happier if i was non-binary or trans? i dabbled in a more androgynous way of dressing for experimental sake. i was so convinced that i did not have what it took to be a good woman. i wasn't really like the other girls around me. i felt like i didn't read the guidebook on how to be a woman. maybe it was a lack of a connection with my mother. maybe it was just a fault in my identity. who knows? regardless I spent so much time wondering how I could be a good woman. one that men desire and women envy.

through all of this pondering, i decided that i did in fact enjoy being a woman, i just didn't know how to enjoy it. I spent my time looking at countless sources of media and how they pictured women. how their bodies looked. how they did their hair and nails. did reading on what men like. what women like. i studied the art of womanhood so intensely. trying to analyze all of the characteristics i needed to embody to feel good about myself. I learned and i implemented step by step. red nail theory, how to speak to men, how to do my makeup, what my body should look like and the steps in which i needed to achieve that look. after a certain point, everyone around me was convinced that i was one of the people i once envied. a good woman. i even saw my peers envy me. what a sight. still, i didn't feel like a good woman. i was lusted after by countless men and women always told me how pretty i was but it didn't feel right. there was something missing.

at times i still do think that there is something missing. when all of my makeup is off and i look in the mirror i wonder if i am doing a good job as a woman. there is something that has helped me with this. this being, tapping into not only the physical manifestation of womanhood, but the spiritual one. anyone can pull off the looks and act the way they think they should, but not many people truly know what it is to delve into the feminine spirit. i think that me being a wlw helped me with this. being able to see such beauty in the raw state of womanhood. the softness and the strength.

i wish i could give a guidebook on how to become more spiritually feminine in order to feel secure as a woman in the world but i simply cannot. i have a pinterest board full of feminine infographics and affirmations but beyond that i cannot. it's about tapping into yourself and noticing what feminine trait you have and how they serve you. i like to do uterus minded yoga and mediation at times but i can see how it seems a bit outlandish. the prescription to being a perfect woman is seeing the woman within yourself, battered around by societal expectations and molded into something she may not be, and loving her unconditionally. giving her the space to bloom and flourish. doing yoga to show love to your feminine frame. tapping into what being in a feminine energy feels like to you and doing everything to protect that nourish that blissful state of being. I feel most feminine and wonderful when i do put that effort into my appearance, being able to express my femininity, but that may not be what makes you feel most feminine.

i don't think anyone has mastered the art of being a perfect woman, but i do know that embracing the woman inside of yourself is as close to perfect as you can get.

[gomzdrawfr]

I hope you die, your its okay art lied about everything

(mention of mw3 spoilers)

Hello dear annon.

I would like to say in the first place, that art of mine isn't tag or meant to be a mw3 thing, I drew it as a comfort art for me and thought of sharing it to everyone else too.

Though it has seem to elicit a response like this from you it seems, and Im sorry you have to feel this way.

As much as the news of our fav character passing distraught everyone, keep in mind they're pixels and that we, the people in the fandom are real people. Don't channel your emotions like this to other people.

Yes, they're more than pixels, some of these characters are our comfort characters and they changed our live. I understand that.

But in no way should you ever send death threats like this to ANYONE, and i mean other artist, content creators, voice actors and the developer themselves(yes, there are people doing that)

I get it, everyone is sad, mad, disappointed and just overall not in a good mood from the game, and sometimes emotions get in the heat of the moment.

I'll never know what happened in your end, maybe you were going through it and my art sets everything off in you, I can understand.

But understand that there is also, another person at the other end, that may also be affected by such news(i am in fact still not over it), negative comments like this only serve to damage people more.

Be better than this, learn to handle intense feelings in another way.

This fandom has many many talented people who has offer their take on the ending, some are making fix-it fic, some are making their own cannon, some are expressing their pain in arts and writings, some are openly expressing their pain and frustration with others in the comment doing the same, and some are offering great in-depth analysis of the game and how they think.

That is what I suggest you to do, visit those things, it helps to level your emotions, or find someone to confine to, instead of being negative like this.

I hope you read this and learn something.

I can only say you're lucky that I know how to handle situation like this, you need to understand that death threat like this carry a lot of consequences and damage no matter how short the words are, so much so that someone out there can take it seriously.

Don't be that kind of person, don't let temporary feelings like this lead to another one's end.

And please.

It's a fictional game. Please remind yourself that.

and to the rest who are reading this, PLEASE as well do not get too mad over this and threaten the annon, we are better than this. Acknowledged the threat and move on, let's keep it that way and make this a safe place <3.

[polybiusplayer]

i am once again thinking about ninejuice (for the first time in a whole month wow)

thats all! have a nice rest of your day

ME TOO OML!!

Oh boy I’m gonna take this opportunity to rant about them.

Nine Juice rant below, read at your own risk.

I’m thinking about them so often…. ITS LIKE!!! I can totally understand people seeing them as only platonic!! And I’ve always actually felt kinda nervous to ship them for some reason… the 17776 enjoyers haven’t been much to do shipping, especially since romance is not really the point of the story, at all. but I just really believe they have a bond that just, is a lot.

There is a level of understanding and compassion that Juice shows to Nine in his own ways, he knows exactly how to help Nine cope after the intermission, he knows what they’re thinking when their communications fuck up. (Nine was indeed cussing him out, they said “fuck you.”) He is teasing as always, but not hesitant to reassure them afterwards.

Nine is very observant. They make note of Juices usage of grammar, how he capitalizes thing that are important to him. I can’t remember exactly which chapter that’s in, but I’m like 100% sure Nine pointed this out. Obviously, Nines name is almost always capitalized . This is a notable exception

Has he EVER used this many exclamation points?!

I also love the way the infodump to each other. Ten by this point has heard Juices rants a billion times before, she loves him, but is sick of them! Of course he sees no problem in that. But then suddenly there’s a new listener who is intensely eager and interested in what he has to say! It feels special, because Nine never seems to get bored of it. They love to hear him talk, about anything really, but especially what he’s passionate about. -

Which is mostly football. Football is how he processes the world. With sports and all the things that come with it he was able to come to terms with reality. He looks at it through such a unique lense in order to make sense of it all. Even his own football game is not just insane rules strung together all willy nilly, it’s truly a work of art with a deeper meaning. It’s like he’s painting with the fields, you know?

Nine understands this, and if they don’t, they WANT to. In my mind, Juices voice and rambles about lunchables or whatever start off confusing to them, but once they understand where it comes from and why and what Juice is trying to attempt with all this, they understand a lot.

Nine copes with history, they look into the past for comfort and familiarity. they feel so intensely behind, at first it started as a way to catch up and feel up to date with their friends, but then they discovered that the history of this world was just sort of a safe space for them. Juice loves to hear Nine talk about stuff even he never knew about. Nine is quite the researcher, and is always able to pull up SOMETHING. He is too, but not to this level. They share facts and information back and forth, intently listening to each other and trying to understand. Always.

Juice knows what Nines going through, it’s quite obvious with what he says here.

They ground each other in this reality, they give each other a person to talk about football with. Someone to try and not think about things too hard with. And then when things DO get hard? And the thoughts are too much? They’ll always be there for each other to help.

An underrated aspect about Juices character is how intelligent he is. SURE, he spends a lot of time joking around, that’s just his thing!!! But he is by no means stupid, he’s a little silly, but so so much more than that. He also cares, a lot! He is lonely, he loves his friends so dearly although he doesn’t express it nearly as much as Nine.

Nine is also a lot more than their troubles. A lot of their arc has to do with coming to terms with the state of existence, but they’re also incredibly compassionate and loving. SO SO loving. They’re blindly trusting, showing no hesitation with their love for everyone. They’re observant, and also a bit of a jokerster! They got that from Juice.

I don’t know where I’m going with this, I just really like the two of them, I love their dynamic. I feel like if they could, they would hug for a real long time. Unfortunately they’re way too far apart and made of nuts and bolts. But they still love each other, nothing changes that, not in a billion years

[nightingale-ghost-writer]

By the Grace Of [Sorcerer Rogier x Fem!Tarnished] - Chapter One

Summary: Rogier meets a Tarnished and finds what he’s been searching for- in more ways than one.

Author’s Notes: 1K words to start! The Tarnished isn’t named in this chapter, but she will be. 😉 thank you to my beloved @halfmoth-halfman for giving me an excuse to post this. ❤️

Disclaimer: I do not own any characters or events from Elden Ring

Warnings: abstract horror? I think? Unedited (basically)

If he hadn’t watched it happen, he probably wouldn’t have ever known. He’d just stepped forward to peek out the doorway when a figure landed on the stones before him without a sound. The same Tarnished who’d fought Margit. She froze, lavender eyes locked on him as he paused.

“Ah, nice to meet you. The pleasure’s mine.” When she didn’t move, he went on, turning on his infamous breezy charm. “Rogier’s the name. A sorcerer, as you might’ve guessed.” She straightened slowly, eyeing him warily.

Rogier shifted, growing a bit nervous. He’d thought she might be friendly, after his aid in her fight against the Omen. Now, though he could hardly begrudge her caution, he wasn’t so sure. And she was beautiful in a way that was vaguely intimidating all on its own. Sooty lashes brushed her cheeks as she blinked at him, one slim hand on her sword hilt.

“I’m looking for a little something, here in the castle. When I’m not hotfooting it from the troops, that is.” He cocked a rueful grin, hoping for some expression. Nothing. “But enough about me. What are you doing here in Stormveil Castle? This place is bristling with Tarnished hunters, you know.” He was rambling, now. “They sacrifice our kind, for grafting. Not exactly a place I’d stroll into without a purpose in mind…”

“I’m here to defeat Godrick.” Her voice was soft and rough, low in a way he hadn’t expected. He blinked, momentarily thrown off guard.

“I see. Here to challenge Godrick, and lay your hands upon a Great Rune, are you?” She nodded, and he could feel himself relaxing. If only a bit. Then her gaze seemed to catch on something he couldn’t see before coming back to him. Bitterness flooded his throat, nearly choking him in its intensity. “You can see it then, I take it? The guidance of grace.”

She nodded, and he tried to level his voice when he replied. “Well, enjoy it while you can. I’m Tarnished, like you. But unlike you, I’ve seen neither hide nor hair of this guidance for the longest time.”

Her brow furrowed, and she stepped further into his little sanctuary. Rogier tried to mask the sharp spike of anxiety he felt, and was grateful when she came no further. He felt naked under her sharp gaze, pierced through and stripped of all his cavalier defenses. He tried to keep the panic and exasperation from his voice. “Still, I won’t forget how it felt when I first came here, to the Lands Between.” He’d erred too far on the side of caution. His voice was far more wistful than he would have liked.

The Tarnished hummed, finally taking her eyes from him to look around the room. He breathed out sharply, relieved. They rested for a moment on his fire, and Rogier extended a hand. After a moment’s hesitation, the Tarnished sat. Rogier realized that she was just as nervous as he. On the one hand, it filled him with pride that he could intimidate a warrior as fierce as she. On the other, it filled him with relief to have a peaceful encounter like this. Had she any wish to strike at him, she’d have done it by now.

“I’m privy to a few magical battle arts,” he blurted. She looked up, eyebrows raised. Rogier stumbled on, lowering himself to sit across the fire from her. “Would you care to learn one? As a fellow Tarnished, once guided by grace, I’d love to help you out, if it please.”

A wry smile quirked one corner of her lips, highlighting a fine scar there. “I’m afraid I’ve no aptitude for magic. Cold steel’s more my speed.”

“Oh?” Rogier grinned. He drew his rapier, carefully, holding it out handle first. The Tarnished took it gently from his hands, turning the blade this way and that reverently. “Keen to learn another battle art, are we?”

She looked up, then back to the hilt in her hands. “It’s a fine blade,” she admitted, turning it back toward him. He took it from her hands and leaned back to slide the blade into its sheath. The soft hiss of steel raised his eyes, but he found only another hilt before him.

Rogier’s eyebrows lifted. The blade was rusted, chipped in places and somewhat dull. “You used this… to fight Margit?”

She shrugged a muscled shoulder, not quite meeting his eyes. “I’ll replace it eventually. Just haven’t found anything better, yet.” She looked up then. “Thank you, by the way.” At his blank look, she went on. “For helping me.”

“Oh, that. Of course. As I said, fellow Tarnished and all that. Happy to help you out.”

She hummed again, tilting her head. “That doesn’t seem to be the case amongst us all.”

Rogier grimaced. “Come across someone less friendly?”

“Several someones, in fact.” He waited, but she offered no further comment before standing. “Thank you for sharing your fire with me. I’d best be getting on, though.” And off she went through the door, silently as she’d come. As eager as Rogier had been to escape from her eyes, her absence left him feeling bereft of comfort. He sat for a long while after she went, watching the space where she’d been.

There was a certain despair that accompanied meeting new Tarnished. Sometimes, when they were particularly rude, Rogier allowed himself to gleefully imagine the moment that they, too, lost the ability to see the guidance as he had. But only for a wink.

Tonight, he found himself hoping that just this once, that moment might take a long, long time. Perhaps even long enough that he could discern what made her attention so captivating.

And in the depths of the castle, pierced with Death itself and barely able to drag himself away, as he crawled on shaking arms, fumbling his Roundtable medallion out of his pocket, the only thing that kept him awake enough to escape was the memory of those eyes, burning into and through him. The memory of feeling, and the hope of feeling again, seen. Truly seen, for the first time.