#like I’d love to paint that art exists to make people happy you know??

[lesbianfakir]

If anyone has art requests for any of the anime I post about on here (tutu, utena, fma, madoka, etc), ESPECIALLY requests for something more painterly please let me know!! I can’t promise I’ll do them for sure, mental illness is absolutely sucking the creativity out of me rn, but I’d love to make something that would make someone happy, you know? Please don’t be shy!!

[amiti-art]

HI! I’m here to ask honest opinion on….Lore Olympus. I’m sorry for putting my opinion here….but I hate it. I’m sorry, I try to see it in a good way….put it paints Apollo as a horrible person. And there are other things that I’d respectfully don’t like about it.However, I want to see your opinion. That is if you’re willing to share it. BTW, I fricking love your drawings., especially the ones about Apollo and his myths! Have a good day or night!

Hello!

I'm glad you like my art 🫶🏻

So, Lore Olympus.

This probably won't come as a surprise to most people, considering how much Apollo art I've made, but I hate Lore Olympus. And not only because of how poorly Apollo was portrayed there.

I'm going to be honest with you: I never read much of it. I read maybe a few chapters some years ago because it was advertised as Greek mythology retelling, but I didn't continue because it was boring to me.

Much later, I saw a lot of posts pointing out all the things wrong with Lore Olympus, and boy oh boy, it's bad.

From what I've seen, it’s hardly a retelling; if the names of the characters were changed, nobody would realize this is supposed to be myth-inspired.

And look, I'm not saying you can't change anything when making a Greek mythology retelling, because it's simply impossible to keep everything the same as in the myths—especially when you want to create a story that covers many myths. The math isn't mathing when it comes to Greek mythology, because the myths changed over time, and different city-states had their own versions of the stories, so it's pretty impossible to make a cohesive timeline without changing something.

But from what I've seen, there isn't much Greek influence in this Greek mythology retelling. From the way the characters dress and speak to the food they eat, there is nothing Greek about this comic, it’s completely Americanized.

And I hate Americanization so much. I remember watching Netflix's "The Witcher" and being so disappointed because there was nothing Slavic about it. They kept Jaskier's original name from the books and called it a day. They turned it into another generic fantasy show.

I know that many Greek people feel the same way about Lore Olympus and other American adaptations of their myths. I love Percy Jackson, but the whole "gods moved to the USA because this is where Western civilization is" is just so icky to me. Greece still exists, hello??????

Back to Lore Olympus. For some reason it's fans think that the comic is a valid source for mythology, and they spread so much misinformation.

For the last time: Persephone was abducted in the myths. There is no version where she goes to the Underworld on her own.

Demeter is a heartbroken mother looking for her beloved daughter, not some evil helicopter parent standing between Persephone and her happiness. Justice for Apollo and Demeter.

Also, Persephone is sometimes drawn like a child and looks more like Hades' daughter than his wife. Why?????

And from what I've seen, Persephone is ridiculously powerful for some reason and fights Kronos or something???????

Also, apparently, Leto is portrayed as a manipulative mother????? Leto??? The Titan goddess of motherhood??? Why????

I don't understand why this comic got so popular, to be honest. Probably because of the artstyle.

[multiwreckedmess]

February Filth Fest - Day 23

Pairing: Artist!Hyunjin x older!fem!reader Prompt: Cheating/Creampie WC: 3.2k Summary: LIfe is exhausting and mediocre for most days of the year. Especially when you feel invisible. Hoping to drown your weekday sorrows with a glass of wine and loved ones you visit a friend’s gallery opening. Maybe your husband should’ve gone too. TW/CW: INFIDELITY, Hyunjin likes that you are married, unprotected penetration (fem receiving), multiple orgasms, age gap not stated specifically, reader called whore, under discussed kinks, really all of this is not very safe.

once again this is fiction do not do this. please discuss things with your partner. i’m so serious do NOT use fiction as a guide for your intimate life.

“Can’t you just go to that fucking gallery thing alone?” The flicker of the tv bounces off the white wall of your living room. “You know I have zero fucking interest in that bullshit anyway.” “Yes dear, I know. You’ve told me” You’re totally unable to hide the exasperation in your voice. Not that he’d hear it, not that he’d care. Not that your husband ever cared about your interests despite how happy they made you. Still you invited him to gallery openings, art fairs, even a history of sports photography special expedition that you had no interest in but you’d hoped he might be interested in. It was all in vain. 

It hurt, having to tell your friend that once again you’d be showing up without your plus one. You’d warned her that it was unlikely he’d make an appearance but you’d try your best. Still you could see the flicker of disappointment as she joked with you that at this point she was starting to doubt that your husband even existed. “Well there is wine to soothe your soul, and several beautiful paintings to bless your eyes! Just have a glass and do a once-through before you hurry home to hubby.” Half smiling, you reach out and touch her arm, “he’ll be fine. I’m fine. I’m excited!”

Truth was you were exhausted, pouring yourself whatever white wine was open into your small clear plastic cup. The art on the walls was of only passing interest. Her specialty was “emerging” artists. Certainly what was shown was work of people still developing their craft, derivative but pretty. A small floral series catches your eye along the central wall, a cluster of smaller paintings surrounding one large canvas. “HYUNJIN” The placard reads. “A Study of She.”

On the largest canvas, laid languidly on its side a seemingly naked figure of a woman is sketched. A beautiful bouquet traveling from the figure's toes blooming brilliantly at its stomach, wrapping up to a floral explosion at its head. The flowers have a brilliant rough texture to the paint, thick strokes from a stiff brush. The next a watery lily painted with thin water colors contrasts the previous large bold artwork. Even its colors are soft and delicate in comparison to the bold slabs of oil paints. “It’s the female orgasm.” The man is all legs; dressed in all black with a thin gold chain framed by his v-neck. “You must be Hyunjin.” His eyes light up, “is it that obvious?” On quick appraisal he knows he’s handsome. The playful smile on his face seems to suggest this at the very least. It’s vaguely aggravating because he has a right to think as much of himself. “What right do you have to capture the female orgasm on a canvas?” Hyunjin wanders closer, speaking in a hushed tone. “I’d like to think I'm intimately familiar with it.” This self-assured bastard. His tongue pokes the inside of his cheek as he wiggles his eyebrows. “Surely not as familiar as Georgia O’Keeffe. It’s a good effort but…well you’re young.” “And you’re…?” You give him a withering glance, debating whether or not you want to chide him for asking a woman her age. “Older than you.” “And you reference O'Keeffe because your passing knowledge of her comes from popular culture? Otherwise I’m sure you’d know how frequently she denied it.” “I do know!” Your cheeks burn. The wine is gone from your glass. “Based on the sophomoric description of the composition I’d assumed you did not.”

Hyunjin looks you up and down, eyebrow cocked. “So you don’t feel I’ve captured it accurately then?” This time your stomach flutters. You try to tamp it down, walking away quickly to refill your glass. Hyunjin follows closely. “Please allow me.” His gaze locked with yours he fills your glass and then his own perfectly, halfway up the glass, without looking. “I am very curious as to your experience with it. If you’d care to share what I missed.” Chugging your wine you gulp deeply, avoiding his persistent stare. “I’m…not sure. I’m not an artist…I don’t have the language for it.” “Well, just tell me how it feels for you. What colors or textures come to mind? Objects, places, people, really anything.” It’s difficult to avoid him now. You pour yourself a third glass. “Is it better than chocolate?” Hyunjin says playfully, grinning at you like the Cheshire cat. “Nothing? Really? A learned woman such as yourself surely-” “No. Nope. I really…I don’t remember. I don’t know. I don’t even know that I’ve-” You wish the floor would open up and swallow you whole in front of him. It’s something you had avoided telling everyone in your life, friends and lovers alike. Your secret shame. At first you’d thought maybe it was the jitters from the deed. Then as you had more partners you figured maybe it just was something broken inside you. Either way you’d never managed to orgasm. Not that you thought anyway. Nothing had ever happened that felt even close to the bombastic fireworks that pop culture had described. His eyes flare, jaw dropping as though he’s heard the juiciest piece of gossip in the world. “You don’t KNOW? How can you critique my painting when you don’t know? Tsk, you have less of a right than me to talk about the fem-” “Can you not say it?” you interrupt, placing your hand firmly over his mouth. “I don’t need the whole room knowing.” Hyunjin kisses your palm, his lips firm and full. Retracting your hand he’s silently giggling. “I’m going to remedy that. C’mon.” Hand secure around your wrist he walks you to the back of the gallery, past his paintings, though an inconspicuous door painted white. You’d been back here before to drop off lunch on a couple occasions but now in the dark Hyunjin is navigating the corners of the tiny hallway with incredible speed. You realize he’s dropped your wrist and you’re following him of your own curiosity. You could turn around easily to return to the party and never know what he meant about “fixing” your situation. Except your legs keep moving forward as his blonde hair bobs in front of you at an increasing distance.

“What? Wait, Hyunjin! What do you mean?” This time you grab his wrist, halting him amongst the clusters of desks and filing cabinets housing obsolete hardcopies of receipts for long-sold artworks. Eyes glinting in the dim light he replies, “oh come on. You’re older than me, aren’t you?” You splutter, “yes. I am. But-” Paused in the office space, time holds still. The sounds of the party in the distance buzz in the background dully and just for that second it’s only the two of you that have ever existed. Slinking up to you he weaves his fingers with yours, playing briefly with your wedding band. “I’m going to make you cum. And then we can have a conversation about my art.” To be honest, your husband doesn’t even enter your mind. The beautiful stranger in front of you is already promising more than your husband had ever in your time of being married.  You breathe out, “okay.”

Pulling you to the end of the row to two office doors. Quickly Hyunjin jiggles the handle of one and clearly finding it locked, jiggles the other. For a second you mourn the journey that never was, the anticipatory knot in your stomach loosening somewhat. But the door pops open with a sharp squeak and he pulls you in with him. Conglomerations of dark shape’s you’re sure should be familiar to you bunch in equally shadowed corners. The rumble of an office chair being shoved away sticks out against the murmurs of the party filtered through the windows.

Hyunjin is stronger than he has any right to be, arm looping around your waist to hold you pelvis to pelvis. The sudden intimate position has your heart plummeting down into your sex, awakening it from its thousand year slumber. Gasping, the twinge is so forceful your knees knock into each other, thighs clenching. “You cannot be this easy to crack.” Hyunjin smirks, breath playing across your lips. “I’m not!” You try to sound intimidating, forceful, but with your arms folded into your chest and fists pressed together it’s a difficult gambit. He presses your butt to the lip of the desk, leg propping between yours. “I don’t want you to think you can’t get out of this. Just say the word, I will stop and never say a word of this to anyone.” The scent of rose soap clings faintly to his neck. It's faint enough to feel like a wild hallucination. How can he even smell floral? You don’t want him to stop, you want him to want you. It feels so good to feel wanted. Subconsciously you twist the band on your finger. The band pulls uneasily at your skin, tighter than you remember it being, too difficult and too obvious to remove. Searching the room for anything but his face to look at your eyes fall on a small glinting plaque on the wall. “This is my best friend's office,” you choke on your ambition. “This is my boss's office,” he shrugs, still trying to make eye contact. Looking at the desk, papers strewn to your sides. The most precarious place you’ve ever hooked up. “Do you think she’ll mind?” “Do you think I care?” He teases with a lilt. “Do you care?” Twisting your ring more frantically as though the friction could burn it from your finger you mumble “I’m-I don’t.” Cupping your hands with his, Hyunjin kisses your knuckles. “Are you a ravishment girl or a slow and steady girl?” He asks with a tilt to his head, finally catching your gaze. “I don’t think I know.” You are breathless as he brings your hands to his shoulders. Finding your waist again he slowly starts to encourage your hips on his thigh. The increased bloodflow already has you sensitive, hissing into the rocking motion. “That’s it- quick learner. Doesn’t that feel good? Rubbing yourself on my thigh like a whore.” You duck your head into his shoulder, stifling a moan so only he can hear the breathy note escape your lips. The gentle stimulation is pleasantly frustrating. Just enough to rile the butterflies in your stomach but not enough to coalesce into a singular form. Your moans grown in vigor and volume along with your impatience. It’s close. You know the close feeling, if you just clench harder or go faster or press harder -- but it’s all for naught. “Just a bit more love, just a bit,” Hyunjin swoops in, nibbling on your earlobe. You grunt in anguish, “Hyunjin. It’s not going to fucking work. This doesn’t ever fucking work. I’m going to fucking wring your neck.” “Alright alright!” He laughs, fitting himself between your thighs, the wet spot on your tights suddenly cool with the blast of night air. “Feisty for an old lady!” “Overconfident brat-” Hyunjins lips meet yours suddenly, passionately, ripping away the air from your lungs. “Will your husband care if I ruin your tights?” Googly eyed, your jaw hangs, “no, I don’t even think he knows that I wear tights,” you reply out of breath.

It takes one sharp tug at the flimsy seam to rip the two halves of your tights apart at the crotch. He plunges two fingers into you easily, slick warm walls welcoming him in. “Fuck, love, you’re soaked. Does he know how fucking wet you get?” You squirm as he leverages his entire forearm to thrust into you. Shaking your head tears well up in your eyes. The intense arousal pools and bubbles like a cauldron in your stomach. The crook of his fingers is just enough to caress your inner walls like he is stroking your belly button through your spine. It twists your gut and has you bucking back at him for more. Hyunjin seems pleased with your inability to respond, kissing you greedily. “I didn’t think so.” You clench harder down around him, chasing what feels like a peak, a summit just a little farther from your grasp. “Fuck!” You finally yell, the wound up energy slowly trickling back down. As long as his fingers are and as skilled as his work is, there just isn’t enough to push you the last few steps. Tears finally roll freely down your cheeks. “I’m so close. I’m closer than I’ve ever been!” You wail. Hyunjin pulls his fingers from you, licking them clean before cradling you in his arms. “Hey, hey. All you need is a little more attention okay? I’ve got you. I’m paying attention.”

His tender kisses surprise you, fingers still tracing the outline of your slit in your ruined underwear. Slowly kissing your neck, basking in the pauses between your breaths, listening, really listening to what your body is saying. You can’t remember the last time someone has treated you this delicately. Certainly not your husband, who would’ve cajoled himself into by now and already left you to clean yourself, still unsatisfied. Instead Hyunjin holds you, letting the pads of his fingers tease your clothed clit, slowly working you to a trembling mess on the desk. “Hyunjin?” You whine his name, undignified and shaking. “Yes, love?” His pitch also shifts higher to match yours, mouth parted and eyes dilated. You’d never begged a man a day in your life but here you were in a musty studio office on your friends quarterlies. “I need it, I need it now.”

Pushing your underwear aside he slowly feeds his cock to your hungry cunt. Slick enough the stretch is the only thing that keeps him from bottoming out easily. The extra pressure from his swollen member is exactly what you need. Hyunjin cautiously thrusts into your warm, wet hole. Barely moving so that you can adjust and so he doesn’t cum immediately. Placing his thumb at your clit he works in circles, feeling you clench down around him, watching your eyelids flutter. Mouth wide your tiny breaths come quicker and more shallow and he smiles. “Feeling good?” Every nerve in your entire body goes off like someone setting ablaze to a fireworks store. You think you’re dying. Your heart pauses and skips, breathing stops. You fight to keep your eyelids open but your vision goes blank. “Shit,” you mutter, weak and shaking. “Hyunjin-fuck-” you writhe below him, each nerve ending washing from white hot to icy cold, blooming from your center outward like frost crackling on a window pane. “Oh my fuck,” you grab the back of his neck with both of your hands and kiss him roughly, walls pulsing and pulling him deeper. “Thank you,” you mutter, breaking the kiss. “Can you go again?”

In theory you know people can have more than one orgasm. In your current state you wonder how they withstand the sheer physical labor of it all. The rush of oxytocin sweeping your body makes you want to take a nap, just slide the rest of the way back on the desk with his cock fully in you and rest. On the other hand now that you’ve experienced it you can’t help but fear you may never feel it again. “I’m tired…” you whine. Hyunjin circles his hips inside of you, “I know love, just take it okay? I promise I’ll give you another one before I’m done with you.” You nod, cock drunk, each word is like a honey coated pill swallowed easily down. His gentle thrusts jostle you, almost unable to resist the push and pull of his cock in your walls. Carefully he takes you down from the desk, resting your torso on the damp papers. Re-entering your swollen cunt he groans, fingers curling into the flesh of your hips. “Pussy’s so tight. What’s wrong with your husband? We’d fuck so much the next guy would feel the imprint of my cock in you.” He growls in your ear, hot breath tickling your neck as he rolls his hips against the plump flesh of your ass. “Should I take a picture for him? Show him what you like? Leave a nice video tutorial on how to fuck his wife? Tell him who made his wife cum for the first time.” Squealing, fingers scrambling, you reach back for him, “Hyun-hyunjin!” The new position feels dirtier, less intimate, closer to your natural forms. He grunts with each punishing thrust. Teeth gritted into a smile. A cool drop of sweat travels from his forehead down and drops to your mid back as he hunches over you, hands pinning your waist to the desk as he uses you. “Don’t worry babe, I’ll fuck you nice and good for him.” He smacks your ass with a responding wallop, sending reverberations through your spine. “Tell me, do you let him use this hole?” He asks in a sing song, thumb working your slick against your puckered hole. “N-no- but-” you splutter and wiggle. “Hm, shame, maybe just a taste then?” The first knuckle of his thumb pops past your tense ring and the world goes technicolor. Blues and purples of the shadows look bright and jagged, peeling away from the white plaster. Every ridge and vein of his dick are prominent in your walls, leaving your mouth hanging dumbly. And then he starts matching his thrusts with the digit. Face pressed to the wood, toes twitching, you’ve lost all sense of shame. At this point anyone could walk in and you’d be totally unphased. Breath knocked out of you in groans and hisses your cunt is already tensing and releasing, working him in time with his hips. “Hyunjin it’s-oh fuck-it’stoomuch!” You slur your works together, eyes screwed shut. Hyunjin is shaking too, dripping with sweat as he gingerly reaches down to fix your hair sticking to your damp face. “You can take it, love. Just a little more. Take it like the whore you are.” You choke on your inhalations, “fuck.” This time your release is almost violent. Gasping and gripping, your entire body fighting the friction that is slowly driving you insane. You could swear he was reaching deep inside your body, rearranging intestines to make room for himself. Body going stiff, the vision in front of you closes in again, cradling you in darkness. “Fuck! Fucking cum on my cock,” harsh and demanding he snaps against you as your cunt drenches him. Tight wet heat enveloping him, he snarls. “Milking me like that, gonna make me cum inside that thirsty lil pussy.” Almost boneless beneath him he collapses stiffly on top of you. His cock pulses hard inside of you as it shoots his release into your throbbing walls.

Hearts beating in flashes of reds and blues the night is calm.

You don’t want to go back out there, the party having dwindled far too thin for your absence not to be missed. Hyunjin presses flat a wrinkle in the back of your dress, the sticky cool wet remainders of your tryst still staining you beneath the facade. Your tights are stuffed in his pants pocket, his own trophy to take home tonight. Hyunjin coughs, holding out his business card to you as you both re-enter the gallery. “If you ever want to talk about art, give me a call.”

all of this is inspired by the “hotter than you ex better than your next’ shirt from like a year ago. Yes i STILL think about that.

Also i’m sorry i’ve been away!!!! i am trying to battle my want to write 28 days of literally 3k long fics and being physically and mentally unable to. I’ll be posting them slowly as i go!!

[noodyl-blasstal]

A Work of Art

It's @taznovembercelebration day 16! Still goin'. Today's card was "laugh" and we got here somehow.

Read below or on Ao3, missed yesterday? Catch up here.

-

Kravitz has no idea why he agreed to this, no idea what kind of person he thought he was when he did. Kravitz: Comfortable Around Naked People; Kravitz: Chill About Crushes; Kravitz: The Most Regular Guy. In reality, he was none of the above.

“Sure, no problem, Taako, I’ll help you with your portfolio.” He’d said. Honestly, I’d do anything for you, no don’t test that theory, I know you want to. He’d meant.

“You’d like some body paint? Wonderful. That’ll be fine. You’re right, I am a good artist.” I’m sure you being half naked in close proximity to me won’t feature in any late night thoughts… or middle of the day thoughts… or morning thoughts. I know, I know, I swear I wasn’t like this before I met you.

“Oh, you’d like to do it fully nude? Yep, we’re both adults. That’s fine.” Taako, you cannot do this to me. I am going to die.

It was okay, actually, the art bit. He knew that it wasn’t sexual, knew that it was just for Taako’s modelling portfolio, knew that Taako had asked him because he was an artist, because Taako trusted him, there was no way he’d misplace that trust. But what he didn’t consider, what he should have considered, was the Taako-ness of it all.

They’d agreed to do it at Kravitz’s place because he actually paid for heating. Taako’s career was feast or famine and he refused to accrue any unnecessary bills. The fact he avoided these by hanging out at Kravitz’s when it was hot in Summer or cold in Winter hadn’t passed Kravitz by, but he also cooked, and ‘secretly’ stocked the fridge when Kravitz was snowed under by an avalanche of deadlines, and made the place feel so much friendlier that Kravitz was happy to pay slightly higher bills to account for the second person. Also, it meant that at least three of his neighbours thought they were together and it was nice that a version of them existed out there, comfortable and together and happy, just like Mauro and Imran, and The Carrots, and old Mrs Chen thought.

Taako had announced his presence (Kravitz gave him a key months ago, it seemed easier) by loudly asking: “Do you want to start with my dick, or my not dick?”

Which, honestly, Kravitz should have expected. But he struggled to find the I’m-Definitely-Not-In-Love-With-You-And-Only-Have-A-Friendship-Level-Interest-In-Your-Dick, honest, answer to Taako's question.

"Yes."It turned out, was not the best option because it gave Taako the chance to ask:

"Yes Taako's dick, or yes not Taako's dick?" And look at him with his perfect eyebrow quirked and his ridiculous smirk and his flushed cheeks making it look like maybe he felt weird about it too.

Obviously the answer was ‘yes Taako’s dick.’

"Either. Dick or not dick, that is. Whichever way you want." Was as much as he could manage in the being regular about this situation stakes, but it he was still convinced it would be okay, he could handle it. In fact, it’d probably get easier as it went.

Or maybe not, but even when Taako said, ‘oh, so you're happy to take Taako both ways?’ and touched his arm Kravitz managed to keep his (outward) composure.

What he couldn't have anticipated, whether he’d accounted for Taako’s inherent Taakoness or not, was the laughter.

Kravitz stoops, eye level with Taako's nipple, wondering exactly why Taako had decided to take all of his clothes off straight away even though they agreed Kravitz would start with Taako's arms and then move to his torso. He knew models had to be comfortable with nudity for shows, but Kravitz isn't a model, Kravitz is a man who is deeply in lust and is suffering.

Even still, adversity inspires creativity and there's a glorious swirling design sprouting from Taako's arm in golds and greens and pinks. It's beautiful, even if Kravitz does say so himself, which he does, because he's working on his confidence. Yes he's a good artist, yes he makes nice things, yes he can work up to asking out the very handsome man that basically lives with him at this point. He'll get there any minute now probably.

Right now though, right now, the fern leaves sprouting up from Taako's taught stomach (which Kravitz has definitely not had any inappropriately lustful thoughts about) are in peril because apparently Taako's torso is ticklish and apparently he didn't think it was worth mentioning that fact before Kravitz had to paint every inch of him with a brush. Every time Kravitz adds a brush stroke Taako shakes and snorts and attempts and fails to stand still and pretend nothing is happening.

“Taako, please. You have to stay still.”

“Cha’boy’s, snrk, trying.” Taako wiggles, leaving a broad stripe of green across his hip.

Kravitz reaches out and smudges it away with his thumb. He almost thinks he hears a hitch in Taako’s breath when he does, but it’s probably just that type of touch when it’s been a while. Last week Taako was lamenting how long it’d been since he’d gotten laid, apparently it was hard to find someone you could trust when you were on the cusp of being famous, hard to find a friend who you were interested in who was interested in you too, hard to find someone to be the ‘whole ass boyfriend’ Taako confessed to wanting. Kravitz could be all of that if Taako could just see it.

“Maybe you need to hold me down.” Taako suggests, as if he’s not proposing Kravitz restrains him while he’s naked and writhing. Is Taako trying to kill him? Is this a really bizzare assassination attempt?

“What do you mean?” Kravitz asks, clarification. Assassins have to tell you if you ask otherwise it’s entrapment. He’s fairly sure that’s how it works.

“If you just, like…” Taako lies down. “Straddle me here.” Taako indicates his hips. “That should do it.”

“Hrnk.” Says Kravitz’s traitor mouth, while his traitor body drops itself over Taako’s. It’s too late for his brain to do anything about it now.

This is bad. This is very bad… Although, actually, Taako looks pleased, so maybe it’s not that bad. Maybe Kravtiz’s weight is comforting, he’s like a weighted blanket! Plus, after a few brush strokes the ferns take shape again. Maybe it’s not so bad? If he can just keep his mind on the task at hand and not on Taako’s body it’ll be fine.

“So Krav, how’s this for you?” Taako squirms and snerks as another press of the brush winds across the centre of his chest.

“Good. Yep. Fine. Great actually.” Kravitz says, like a sane person, like a guy who didn’t have a crush on the person he was currently straddling and painting. The naked person he was currently straddling and painting.

There’s a pause, Taako fills it.

“How’s the weather up there?” Taako wriggles again as Kravitz adds gold accents and tries desperately to remember what Wiki How said about painting nipples.

“Warm.” Kravitz says, because he is. The temperature was cranked even higher than usual to make sure Taako was comfortable.

“You can take some clothes off too, you know, if you want.” Taako’s doing the faux nonchalant voice he does when he wants to have dessert but says it doesn’t matter.

“I wouldn’t want to make you uncomfortable.” Kravitz says mildly. He’s let optimism carry him over cliff edges before. Taako’s vulnerable right now, he has to be careful.

“Taako would definitely be more comfortable if you were wearing less right now, handsome.” Taako says, like he’s confident, like he means it, and then he winks. Winks.

Some things are slotting into place in Kravitz’s head. The visits, the earnest talks, the compliments…

“Wait… Hold on… Taako, did you specifically do this to hit on me?”

Taako grins. “Is it working?”

“Maybe.”

“Then maybe.”

Kravitz considers his options. He wants to know. “It’s working.”

“You didn’t notice anything else I tried.”

“Well…” Kravitz doesn’t have a comeback, instead he uses every drop of courage that the stupid mirror affirmations gave him, leans down, and kisses Taako firmly on the mouth then sits up again. “How about that?”

“I’ve got a few more ideas about what you can do with your mou…”

“Nope! Don’t you dare suggest anything right now. We’ve got some art to finish. It’s for your portfolio.” Kravitz adds air quotes around the last bit, well, as best he can with a paintbrush in hand and dabs some more paint onto Taako.

“Fine, but you should definitely be wearing less too.”

Kravitz doesn’t finish his painting.

-

I hope you had a goodfun time. Wanna read more? Catch the next prompt here.

[free-for-all-fics]

🎃Random horror movie crossover thought! Feat. Trick ‘r Treat, Terrifier, and The Jester 🎃

I can’t help imagining an Art the clown, The Jester, and Sam crossover. All of these characters oddly have things in common. As far as we know, they’re all supernatural entities who wear masks and/or makeup to hide their face. They exist to make sure Halloween is respected and its traditions are upkept. They commit acts of violence and/or murder on those who are rude and/or disrespect Halloween in any way. Even people who choose not to participate aren’t safe. The only characters who survive are ones that follow the rules of Halloween.

(Note: Art would probably still kill people regardless. Like my bestie @tinalbion said, “I think he wouldn't have been as messed up in the kill if she would have given him candy. So I feel like he'd still kill people, he just wouldn't be AS brutal as he could be.”)

I’ve seen lots of crossover fics for slashers before, and I dunno why but I’d love to see Art, The Jester, and Sam as this scary and unnerving yet unconventionally wholesome family of supernatural Halloween entities. Maybe with Little Pale Girl tagging along. She and Sam could pose as children and go trick or treating together while Art and Jester are the “parents” or “cool uncles” who keep watch. They’d probably make the people giving out candy uncomfortable with their silence. This family isn’t exactly talkative but they express words and emotions through body language, even if that may freak people out. Fun night out for the family whether they get candy or commit heinous acts of goofy gorey fun on humans. It’s both tricks and treats for this gang of ghouls.

And if reader somehow gets roped into this family, she’d be the wife/mom and the only seemingly “normal” member. Just an everyday average human woman and the murderous Halloween entities she loves so much. Imagine their family photos. They’d probably be like those “Everyone looks the part of a nice, happy family except the goth/heavy metal teenager in black clothing and corpse paint.” meme pictures you see. But instead it’s “Everyone looks like a laid off Spirit Halloween employee or out of season scare actor, except the wife/mother, who looks like she came from a Better Homes and Gardens magazine.”

[shakespearefreak]

New friend! Meet Virginia Wilde, from the late 1880s - early 1890s.

I've wanted Truly Me #115 for a while now, and I found a very good deal on her recently. I originally had intended to make her into Luna Lovegood (in fact, I'd already bought a fan-made Ravenclaw uniform for her), but as a trans person with trans and Jewish friends, Harry Potter has become... much more complicated for me the last few years. There's still a lot I really love about the series, and I don't think there's anything wrong with that (as long as I don't buy official merchandise etc.), but a lot of people I know are starting to see HP as a signal that someone isn't safe to be around (which, to be fair, makes a decent amount of sense, especially given Rowling's comments about the fanbase supposedly supporting her agenda). Anyways, the point to all this is to say that while I was planning to make #115 Luna, I also knew that for the comfort of those around me, I couldn't post a lot of photos of her or bring her out in public as I do my other dolls. I also was very torn on having a reminder of how betrayed I feel by Rowling in my room for me to see on a daily basis. Every time I find myself thinking of the Potterverse, it makes me happy, then immediately sad and angry when I remember how Rowling has harmed and continues to harm people like me. I was considering maybe keeping her stored away in her box part of the time.

But here's the thing... when she arrived, I took one look at her face and knew I couldn't do that; I loved her too much. So... now I had a very, very beautiful doll and no idea who she was. And I'd never, even as a child, bought an AG just because she was pretty and made up a character for her later. I definitely wanted to keep her though, so I just decided to wait until she told me who she was.

The first one I got came with a manufacturing defect, so I returned her to the seller and got a replacement. While the replacement was in transit, I racked my brain trying to decide who she should be. I had some vague ideas, but a lot of them seemed contradictory: I kept picturing her in historical gowns, but also found myself thinking of her in contemporary gothic alt fashion. In my mind, she was both a cheerful, creative artist type and an unusual “old soul” who made many people uncomfortable. Then, when the replacement arrived, I found myself thinking of her physical features: her pale skin, wide cloud-gray eyes, and flaxen hair, and tried associating her with pre-existing characters with similar attributes; and suddenly it clicked. She’s a Victorian gothic heroine; her biggest influences are Virginia Otis from “The Canterville Ghost” (which is also where her name came from: “Virginia” from the character herself, “Wilde” from the author), Edith Cushing from Crimson Peak, and Johanna Barker from Sweeney Todd.

She’s a little older than the rest of my dolls (15). Her father died shortly before her story starts, which is why her Meet Outfit is a mourning gown (I also want to get her some accessories inspired by Victorian mourning jewelry). She was quite close to her father, and became interested in the paranormal after his passing. She also loves art (especially painting). She’s quiet but cheerful, despite her more morbid interests, and friendly when you get to know her. Like Samantha, some of the dress codes of her time period frustrate her, and she surreptitiously rebels against them when she can.

I wanted her to be from 1884 originally (because of the old AG tradition of starting each story in years that end in 4), but then I had the idea of giving her a doll-sized Ouija board (which I’d found on Etsy ages ago, but never found a good use for!), and while spirit boards were used at the time, the Ouija board specifically was invented in 1890, so I’m leaning towards 1891 (I know I could use 1894, but then only a decade would separate her story from Samantha’s). I’ve been having trouble finding affordable era-appropriate doll clothing on Etsy, and I don’t know too much about the fashion from that period myself, so I’m kind of kicking myself for choosing this backstory, but now that I’ve seen it I can’t unsee it. (Any information about the time period any of you have, or any ideas for where to get outfits/furniture/accessories for her, would be more than welcome; thanks in advance!)

Since I don’t have a black Victorian-style gown (yet), for this photo I put her in the nightgown my mother made for Samantha when I was a child. I think it suits her more than it ever did Sam, so it’s hers now.

[weirdthoughtsandideas]

If DCLA characters had Tumblr part 12 🕺🏼

🌼 punk-not-dead Follow

I’m gonna sound insane but I do want kids but I don’t want a partner.

Like… sure, someone to get steamy with occasionally would be nice, but when I picture myself as a mom I want no one else involved (except for friends and family helping out ofc). I wanna raise my child my way. I’m too bossy to have someone co-parent.

💍 queenoftherink Follow

You sound like my adoptive mother but in a good way.

When I think about it you don’t really sound like my adoptive mother because she’s just repulsed by other people’s existence, and I think that’s why she raised me alone. No family or friends helping out. She also refused to let me close to anyone else as she wanted to have full control over me. But she also shut me off and didn’t want me to know stuff in her life, and then demanded to be involved in mine??

Sorry this turned into a rant. Didn’t mean to. Anyway you are NOTHING like her and I am sure you’re gonna be a great single mother one day.

9 notes

🎨 biamakesart Follow

I’ve gotten asks if I’ve ever thought about putting my art up in an exhibition ☺️ Yes! That would be a lot of fun! My art style is often more cartoony, but I have been thinking of doing more paintings on canvases. Maybe one day I’ll become a professional artist, maybe they’ll put up my paintings in a museum! 🤭

Ok, I’m dreaming big 😉 I’m just happy if one person likes my sketches I make in my notebook 🩷

I hope everyone has a wonderful day! Remember to be yourself! 🌈

🧢 everythingscominguponmaxi Follow

I just wanna say that I see so much unhinged and crazy stuff scrolling through my dashboard, and then comes you with your sweet posts. Filled with calmness and love.

I hope you become a big artist one day and I’ll brag to everyone that I knew you when you were just a little blog on Tumblr

200 notes

💍 queenoftherink Follow

People are discussing if Regina George is a lesbian or not.

I think she is just high. She cares about no one because she is very high. Kissing people doesn’t feel like much because in her mind they’re probably dancing fruits.

Haha. Maybe Regina has a weird worldview like Cady had. But instead of everyone like animals it’s everyone as fruits or maybe ants. Or furniture. Talking furniture…

💄 not-homophobic-goth-girl Follow

Were you high when you wrote this

💍 queenoftherink Follow

Yes.

69 notes

👨‍🍳 kunsts-best-chef Follow

It is so funny to randomly mention to people that I’m a lawyer student.

Anyway, today we’re making carbonara on my youtube channel! Uploading in 2 hours!

8 notes

🧢 everythingscominguponmaxi Follow

Sometimes I think about my childhood and realize… there were some CLEAR signs.

🏳️‍🌈 creyendoenmi Follow

Yeah…

🛼 rollerskatingonthemoon Follow

Yeah…

🍓 chico-fresa Follow

I’m so confused, what is this about?

#Are you three even talking about the same thing??

899 notes

💅🏼 ja-jazmin Follow

Do you guys think I would be a good mom? 😘

✌🏼 arodarmivida Follow

Yes!! Omg

🏳️‍🌈 creyendoenmi Follow

Yes but you would probably be one of those moms who start a family youtube channel and record everything your kids do, until one day it gets out of hand you get cancelled and your children sue you.

But that is only if you start a family youtube channel😁 Otherwise I’d think you do a splendid job

🐬 fab-and-chic-delfi Follow

Yam’s brutal honesty scares me.

13 notes

🎸 beanie-guitarist Follow

Is she high or just like this? A new song I wrote the other day and thinking of performing later. It’s based on real events.

😎 rapmiro Follow

Idk man Luna can be a little quirky but I don’t like to think she is ever high on anything

🎸 beanie-guitarist Follow

Who says this song is about Luna?

😎 rapmiro Follow

I thought every song you wrote is about Luna?? I thought that was your thing or whatever

🛼 rollerskatingonthemoon Follow

🤣🤣

😎 rapmiro Follow

Why are you reblogging with laughter emojis? Aren’t you offended this song is not about you?

🛼 rollerskatingonthemoon Follow

😂😂

😎 rapmiro Follow

Maybe you are high.

16 notes

✌🏼 arodarmivida Follow

I went to that site where you can listen to music around the world from different decides and anyway, NO ONE put in A rodar mi vida for Argentina in the 90s smh

I could add it there myself but apparently you need to PAY to get an account there…

#i guess the rest of the world will never know the argentinean bangers of the 90s #also I listened to other countries #why does Iceland in the 70s have such bangers #Finland in the 70s too

2 notes

😎 rapmiro Follow

People who think I’m nothing… just you wait… one day the whole world will know the name of Ramiro Balsano

💄 not-homophobic-goth-girl Follow

Balsano…

😎 rapmiro Follow

Ponce*

🏳️‍🌈 creyendoenmi Follow

My dude how do you forget your own surname and write someone else we know’s surname

😎 rapmiro Follow

It was a typo

🍓 chico-fresa Follow

Are you trying to take my identity, rapper boy? 😉

😎 rapmiro Follow

No it was a typo

77 notes

🎤 singing-is-who-i-am Follow

You’d think I would be more cultured due to living in so many different countries growing up, but all it got me was like. Kids shows that maybe were good but were dubbed in languages I did not speak and if they aired in other countries they might not have the same names, so no one knows what I am talking about.

Anyway the trouble with this is that I sometimes don't know if anything aired globally or if it was a show exclusively shown in that very country and it's so annoying. I’m going around with vague memories of some french dubbed anime except I don’t even know if it was an anime or if I just saw Totally Spies in french, or if it was none of that at all. Maybe it was not even animated in the first place and I’m just gaslighting myself that it was. Maybe it wasn’t even french but actually german.

55 notes

🌼 punk-not-dead Follow

When I was small I saw a show where a girl got poured water over her by two mean kids, and her immediate response was to bring out her lasso she carried with her, capture one of the kid’s hands and attempt to drag him down from the balcony.

I remember I became so inspired by this I tried to do it myself by asking my childhood rival to stand on the balcony while I tried to catch her hand with a rope.

We had to stop abruptly because her mother thought I was trying to hit her with it like a whip and forced me to go home.

🌟 supernova-number-one Follow

I don’t even remember this, but it makes sense. My mom banned Pippi Longstocking in our house because she thought I was gonna learn to ??? throw kids up in trees with super strenght I guess ??

🌼 punk-not-dead Follow

That is something I also wanted to do and I used to throw my sisters up in trees.

But the lasso girl was another girl, she was blonde and had a pet racoon.

… I guess there’s been a theme with unhinged little girls who perform great revenges on their bullies and question authority and always get in trouble that I’ve always loved and wanted to aspire to.

🎀 italys-biggest-bow-collector Follow

Only Camila will say stuff like ”I used to throw my sisters up in trees” and then not elaborate.

28 notes

🎧 pixiemix Follow

I HATE THIS GAME SO MUCH AAH

💃🏼 daisydances Follow

I encourage you letting out your feelings, but I also saw you throwing your nintendo switch across the room almost making a hole in the wall. Please be careful.

3 notes

[saferlost]

For those that struggle to start (artists and writers)

Dear friend,

First of all, I must say that I’ve been meaning to write to you for a long time. For years, actually. This letter has been in the making since I was a teenager. I'm about to enter the second quarter of my century, and I thought if I didn't do it now, I’d never do it.

I've been feeling very nostalgic lately. Every day I reflect on my life, especially on my art. You know I like to write. And I think about why I write. What is it that moves people to do anything?

I think it's love and pain. I believe that humans were made to escape pain and protect love. I say “protect” and not “seek” because love is inherent in human beings, contrary to what cynics might say. To be alive is to flow with love, and as proof of this I can show you the history of humanity: eras of pure misery, suffering that transcends generations, the worst of the worst. Would we consciously choose to continue an existence plagued with endless evils, if there wasn't a reason to do so? Don't you think we would have decided a long time ago to put an end to all evil forever, that is, to voluntarily extinguish ourselves, if we thought that was the most rational thing to do? What makes our small and insignificant species not choose to self-destruct is what makes it not so insignificant. It’s love for life that moves the world, my friend. It may be subconscious, it disguises itself, it changes shape, but it's there.

But when it comes to art, it doesn't matter what moves the world; an artist is an individual, and the human mind must be analyzed in terms of its uniqueness. What can move an artist who has never loved, or who has never felt pain? Where can his magic... his inspiration come from? Where is an artist's love born?

Art is sensory. We can see it in paintings, movies and novels; we smell and taste it in culinary works; we can touch it on the fabric of a dress; we hear it in orchestras and indie rock bands. But its inspiration is not sensory. It isn’t intellectual either: it doesn’t come from the body or the mind.

There's a book called The War of Art (by Steven Pressfield) that states that all callings of the soul, that is, vocations, come from a single source, a single metaphysical force, separated, but united to us, that indicates the path we must follow to reach happiness. There is a force that wants us to accomplish our mission. They are the angels, the muses, the “inspiration”, whatever you want to call it. When we do what we came to do in the world, we are accompanied by this force.

But there is an obstacle, as immaterial as its counterpart. There’s another force that haunts all people, all the time. It's almost undetectable, very hard to see. Pressfield calls it "Resistance". It's the force that tries to prevent us from fulfilling our mission. I'm sure this will be familiar to you, it certainly is to me.

Resistance fights against the divine. It’s an ally of abulia, depression and apathy. It’s a leech that feeds on suffering; it’s never satisfied and will never be. It has a colossal objective: to destroy love for life.

To me, Resistance feels like an endless list of priorities. Anything seems much more urgent than sitting down to write my ideas. There’s always something else to do, the time never seems right, my ideas have to wait to be written, they have to get in line. But what's strange is that when I get free time, I’m the one that goes out in search of something else. Leisure has to be avoided at all costs. Not even the idea of starting appears in my mind. And if it does, something inside me panics. Now’s the right time, inaudible voices whisper, if you don't do it now, you never will.

Then Resistance answers for me, without my noticing. It does so with my voice:

I have to watch that new anime that everyone is talking about.

I need cigarettes.

I have to go get a coffee with Miranda.

I have to get into a relationship.

I need to graduate.

You gain nothing from it, do something productive.

Something that makes money.

After reading Pressfield's book, I became more aware of its tricks. Bit by bit I began to hear its voice. A perverse imitation of my natural voice, that revealed more of its dirty nature the more attention I paid to its distorted resonance. Resistance went back to its hiding place. It has only one weakness, being found out.

I cleared my schedule (that was never that busy), closed my bedroom door, put on my headphones and rested my fingers on the laptop keys. Muses are capricious; sometimes they play pranks, sometimes they test you. They are spontaneous, they like their orders to be followed immediately. Sometimes they abandon me when I'm alone with a blank document, patiently waiting for some indication, however precarious it may be.

They don't listen to threats. They don't care about your need to acquire capital to feed yourself, or ask about the status of your rent or bills. They only know that they won't let you be happy until you do what they say. They’re a little despotic in that respect. How inconsiderate... don't you think? Why couldn't they call me for a more lucrative and stable activity, like programming. There are people who have programming, medicine or law as vocation, good for them. My luck is that of a hostile and difficult to secure world. The muses don’t promise anything material. They don’t promise success, fame or fortune.

Resistance can also take the form of overly strict self-criticism. This is especially pernicious, because we may think those are our own perfectionistic standards. That our sensitivity to mistakes is so high that nothing we do seems to satisfy us. Of course, these criticisms are limited to our work only. We can appreciate other people's works and ignore the imperfections, sometimes we don't even notice them. It's hard to perceive that the criticism is rarely directed to our art, and is almost always directed to ourselves. If that haughty voice only leaves a bitter aftertaste, without anything constructive, it’s the voice of Resistance.

Also you can’t argue with Resistance. No matter how much you argue with it, invariably you’ll lose. The only thing that can be done to weaken it is to listen to it attentively, knowing what it really is.

Resistance can also imitate (or reproduce) the voices of others. For example, an older brother:

"Cringe."

A father:

"Is that what you spend your time on?"

A friend:

*Laughter*

Or a negative comment on the internet:

"I hate Twilight Sparkle x Flash Sentry."

An artist with a severe and undiagnosed case of Resistance can truly lead a miserable life. Especially if the people around them don’t know anything about artistic calls, or if they are the involuntary spokespersons of their own Resistance.

"Nobody cares if you don't finish it."

"Nobody cares. Period."

Forgive me for being so hyperbolic.

It's hard to overcome the relentless urge to self-destruct when we see no reason to do so. It bleeds empty, boring hours, in which we are almost paralyzed on the bed, lazily sliding our fingertips across the phone screen. You have time, right? Art can wait. Checking twitter is more important. Our pride doesn’t allow us to abandon the idea that one day we will put in 100% of our effort, one day we’ll get tired of lying to ourselves and we will study, draw, write, exercise or sleep well. But that day never comes. That's why every birthday feels so miserable. If you get to work, the years that go by won't make you despair, I assure you.

Who can leap into the void, relying only on faith in oneself? A lunatic.

Who can leap into the void, relying on faith in oneself, and survive? Those that trust, I suppose.

And I don't mean that they trust that in the end, they’ll accomplish all their goals, that they’ll live out the fantasies of the future that were born in childhood. Fulfilling your mission doesn’t mean that. The muses don’t dictate fate or circumstances. Trusting them promises nothing but their company.

What I mean by all this is that art fulfills a function, one of the most selfish ones there is. It helps the artist to be happy. For some that means expressing their pain through art. Others express the love that fills their hearts, love for art or for life. My muse is honesty. When writing fiction or a letter like this, I'm being honest, and that is pure happiness.

Sincerely,

A lonely writer

P. S. This letter is addressed to you, reader, and it was inspired by a poet (who doesn't know me, but I do) that is facing an illness and keeps creating his art like a true warrior.

[slitherbop]

.......Any papastuck hcs?

THANK YOU for giving me an excuse to publicly ramble about PAPA G AND CHUCK beware of Spoilers within ALSO HERE’S A PIC happy valentines day

When they met and Chuck was still Stuck in the floor, like Post-Chicken-Feed-Missing-Scene, Chuck would be RUDE as HELL to Papa G. But Papa G took it as realizing he’s just A Guy and was like AH MAYBE I SHOULDA BEEN GIVIN HIM REAL FOOD and then he does that, but Chuck is still a bastard to him. Not to The Kid’s knowledge tho, he only found out that Papa G knew about Chuck’s existence in the second episode like we saw.

Papa G literally just looked at Chuck and how Evil he was being at the beginning and was like OH YES WE CAN BE FRIENDS I LIKE THIS GUY cuz he DID save him and want him to be redeemed and have the last ring to be on the team... Papa G’s Immediate Trust.. like if u agree

I like to imagine that Papa G actually did have da iced tea with Chuck to get to know him :] this was Post-Chuck-getting-Cut-in-Half. Papa G is Very Curious about Chuck but Chuck’s still a rude little man at this point and Papa G laughs off his behaviour. Papa G might be f*cked up enough that he does enjoy his company, bad vibes and all

Chuck has NO idea what to make of Papa G here because no one else has ever shown him kindness or wasn’t annoyed at him. It doesn’t stop him from being a force of negativity though cuz at this point he still Believes he’s going to conquer the earth.

This ended up being like a timeline of their relationship and not relationship headcanon UUHH OOPS!!!!!

OK, Chuck actually likes that he calls him Charles it’s the special name :]

I’m prepared to be proven wrong but it would be epic if Chuck started calling Papa G “George” because he was there to hear that that is his first name and Papa G like with Tuna Sandwich doesn’t mind being called it, it’s just his name. Also George is my real name and I’d love to hear Chuck say. Also Also George and Charles are gay old man names

Uh oh I’m talking more about timeline stuff but some time after the events of the big showdown and they’re dealing with the fact that Chuck is deciding to stay here on earth, Papa G and The Kid make him his own living space there in the junkyard with them. Not sure where or what it’d look like but it means a lot to Chuck (makes this face -> 🥺) I’d imagine since his species aren’t given their own names / have individuality he wasn’t given a space of his own to do whatever he wanted with

Since they no longer have the rings, Chuck helps Papa G as an extra hand doing work in the yard (Papa G had to get used to doing stuff without being his own company :[ ) and Chuck ACTUALLY LOVES HELPING imagine that one scene where Papa G and Chuck are working together to build the ice cream megaphone truck, they’re both really skilled at building stuff and enjoy it so it’s like that pretty often!

I swear to god Papa G needs to get Chuck a wheelchair / make him one, I want to believe that he does have one and we just didn’t see it at the end of the time skip -_- :prayer: but they totally deck it the hell out (you KNOW Papa G is capable of making deadly death machines and you KNOW Chuck would absolutely love that sh*t!!!!)

Anyway back to the time skip relationship development thing: PAPA G SHOWS CHUCK AROUND HIS HOUSE I wish we knew what inside the house looked like besides the kitchen sink lol but Papa G figured if he’s gonna be around here more often he might as well show him where HE lives! Papa G is SUPER excitedly showing him all the weird stuff he’s accumulated over his lifetime. Chuck doesn’t Get the specialness of physical possessions and calls it Junk but Papa G doesn’t mind! He shows things and Chuck is confused about certain things (being an Alien) and Papa G is happy to explain everything to him.

Papa G shares Chuck his art and is showing him painting ;_; once again Chuck is a bastard and doesn’t totally get it. Papa G would definitely call HIM an artist, pointing out that all the building that Chuck does is artwork, those comics that he spent all that time reading was him appreciating the art, and that changes the way he views it. Chuck makes his own dam comics, I’d imagine the way he’d draw is very unique and the text is written in his language, and then it’s Papa G who doesn’t totally get it but is ENTHUSIASTIC ABOUT IT!!!

Also Papa G totally takes Chuck out to the middle of nowhere to go look for junk, this is probably Chuck’s Least Favourite Activity LOL but they do spend a lot of time talking about anything, I’m really curious about what the kind of things they’d even say when they’re not faced with any threat and are only with each other *looks up at the sky in thought..*

Chuck please go off about your previous life away from earth I feel like as soon as he came here he kinda just accepted himself being Stuck Chuck and therefore had no attachment to being a nameless body in an alien army. Also Papa G please open up about your messed up secret history that warranted the government keeping tabs on you and made you live almost completely isolated.

See^ I think whatever they got going on on a DEEP LEVEL could be wild and would have so much to unravel, Chuck’s life before this was probably just 90% seeing various people DIE and was simply made to Kill people for his leader. And. you KNOW Papa G has something Messed Up about him + Is Traumatized / got “bad flashbacks” + the whole seeing himself die and being numb to it. And now that they are people who are trying to save lives on their team they could Relate to each other as the two older guys with UNKNOWN HISTORY!!!!

UUUUH OK SO SHIP HEADCANONS RIGHT. RIGHT. They hold hands :] they rarely kiss it’s mostly Papa G who kisses Chuck on the face but Chuck is forbidden from kissing unless Papa G wants to go to sleep. Also Chuck likes to be held by Papa G, they hug a lot :D Papa G takes Chuck out to the diner and gets him everything he wants <3 they go to the house and watch movies and Kid joins them too as a family ;_; Papa G goes to sleep in his god forsaken hammock with Chuck, and Chuck is like So This Is Your Weird-Ass Cocoon Huh and Papa G is like HAHA YUP and its sweet.

I’m gonna end this here thank you for reading, this is the kinda stuff I ramble on and on like this in private but I hope u enjoy some of my thoughts about this I think it’s a genius ship with so much potential and is my favourite thing right now THANKS

[dreamiesdotcom]

[00:45] To you at least, there was never a truthful, unbiased evidence that people were intended to love: those who wrote their theories about love have yearned, experienced, missed the feeling of being loved. They were tainted by the idea that there exist in this world, people who were born from the same star as you.

Because love meant sharing joys and exchanging affection and holding a loaded gun to each other's chests, you saw it as nothing more than suicide. There are things you keep to yourself; you have to learn to share just enough that they don't suspect you're not fully trusting, but not so much that you end up confiding in them.

Your happiness, your love, your trust, your heart; these are the things you never should let people hold. They let go. God, they let go all the time.

"Yo, Y/N!" A cheery voice calls from behind you, running from his circle of friends to you with a huge smile on his face. He wraps an arm around your shoulder, holding you in a playful chokehold.

"Donghyuck," you call timidly. "Do you need anything?"

"Huh? When have I ever needed anything from you?" He raises a brow. You open your mouth to speak, but then he slightly tightens his hold before letting go, "Do not remind me of the time I cried because my parents left me at home and nobody wanted to cook for me."

"I wasn't gonna."

"Liar! You were!"

You keep your neutral expression as you nodded, fixing your collar, "I was gonna."

"Don't just agree like that!" He huffs, confusing you. He suddenly grabs your hands and brings them up to his face, something a kid would do. You look at him curiously, with doubt that curiosity showed on your face. "Come to the party, okay?"

"I'll think about it."

But love... love is infectious. It's so easy for it to get into you; someone's touch is more effective than the others. Donghyuck's was the most powerful. With just a smile, he touched you so intimately that you were contaminated through and through.

"Pretty please?" He presses the back of your hands to his cheeks, "I— well, I mean, you don't have to, but— but it'd be nice... you know..."

You sigh, easing your hands away from his grasp and turning around. "Fine," you mutter, thankfully succeeding in holding in your blush as you heard him walk over to his friends as he hums a happy tune alongside a 'I'll see you there, Y/N~!'

Since when?

"They might fall for you if you keep that up," a whisper comes from one of his friends, a brow arched. They probably thought you were too far to hear.

You swallowed when Donghyuck laughed sweetly, with no hint of any malice in his joy.

"Let them."

It was nothing specific, not answering any questions but adding two: is he playing with my feelings because I'm a challenge? Is there a chance that he wants me to fall for him... because he fell for me? Useless thoughts as such. Love was annoying. It played like the tune of despair when you're alone; you're constantly alone.

But you come anyway. Love felt like being sick, like the wobbling of your feet as if you haven't walked for a whole month. It felt like throwing up when Donghyuck greets you at the door, tugging you somewhere, sitting you in a circle where a bottle spins, dizzying you further. There were drinks being offered.

He tells you not to drink too much. You tell him you can handle it. You have handled everything so far, hard subjects and emptiness and life in general.

But life makes you secretive. Liquor makes you honest.

After an eternity at laughing when funny stories come up, and blushing when you're complimented for your newly revealed soft side, and hurting whenever he's dared to be near someone (hold their hand for five minutes, hug them for three, kiss them for one), the bottle spins and it points to you.

Everyone buzzes in excitement, hoping to have you do something, anything, with the unfamiliar boy in the circle who's been watching and soaking in your presence and laughter since you sat down next to Donghyuck.

"Truth or dare?"

"Truth."

"Boring," they say, but it didn't hurt, since truth was rarely boring. Sometimes words expressed things you were too uncomfortable to act on. So you smiled.

A girl whose face you don't remember asks you, "If you could choose one thing in the world right now, and that thing would be the only thing you'd feel for the rest of your life, what would it be?"

Beside you lays Donghyuck's jacket, and your cold hand hides underneath it. The other hand brings a cup up your lips, mindful of the stares directed at you. For a moment, you thought it would be better if you chose dare and kissed a boy you barely caught the name of. You wondered if you could back down and choose dare instead.

Underneath the piece of clothing, his fingers dances with yours, eventually slowing into soft, tingling touches by fingertips, and end their artful choreography by settling down. Your palm rest against the carpeted floor. His covers the back of your hand.

Sunshine was not something you were fond of. It was warm, and sometimes it was good, but too much of it burned; it reminded you of a certain something. And sunshine reminded you of a certain someone. Someone who made you rethink that same something.

You didn't like sunshine, but his existence was submerged in summer at birth that at his presence, it was all you could feel.

You look straight in Donghyuck's eyes, the faintest blush and the slightest smile looking like painted sunrise on you face.

"Love," you say softly, "I'd do anything if it means I'd be loved forever."

[akria23]

Let me start of by saying that this series shaping up to be everything I wanted and yet better than I ever expected. There’s so much on the table that can be discussed, that should be discussed. It saddens me that the piece isn’t getting the attention it deserves but even if every BL fan was tuning in I’d still think it wasn’t getting enough attention because the topics are universal. I won’t say that Not Me is above BL or different from Bl because I feel that is reductive and disrespectful to the work creators & actors have placed in transforming BL from what it once was. Instead I’ll say that I’m just happy that BL has grown into really presenting queer identities and that Bl has grown it’s craft of story telling so much that queer identities within it get to represent these universal topics of life, struggle, freedom and justice. Same with the Romance Genre - I will not cheapen it by speaking down on it or trying to separate & place these other elements above it when romance is the most adaptable genre out there. Romance is supposed to make you feel good - that’s what it exist for. And that’s a huge part of Not Me - they take on such big topics that highlight the everyday struggle for many of us but when we get those moments of Sean & White together, even in their intense exchange, there’s something light there that makes the view feel giddy and good as it’s supposed to. So all the elements are important even if I don’t focus on them in every ‘after episode’ post.

Alright so let’s discuss the episode….

The topic that arced the entirety of this episode was Privilege. [ Just to note - Privilege is defined as a special right, advantage, or immunity granted to a certain person or particular group. ] and they did this in a couple of different ways presenting it through the lens of class, position, and disability.

We find out this episode that Yok’s mom is mute and she loses a position of employment because the employer discovered she’s mute and is uncomfortable about the aspect. Unfortunately this is not uncommon there are many people who act like those who have a disability are a burden. There’s many jobs that legally slide in ways to discriminate against those with disabilities so they will be unable to apply or fairly be considered for a job. Even outside the aspect of work there’s still so many establishments not set up for those with disabilities and those without most often give no thought to how much privilege this fact gives them. I appreciate them not for just this element but simply having representation for the mute community at all - because that’s also something that’s not in abundance even though there are many people who are apart of the mute and deaf community. I don’t believe his mother is deaf, they only mentioned her inability to speak and she uses her hands (sign language) as her way of communication. I know some might think they go hand in hand cause I’ve seen ppl on Twitter switch them out but the inability to talk doesn’t automatically go hand in hand with being hard of hearing or deaf. One can be mute and hearing, one can be deaf or hard of hearing and speak also. Often times it’s all about what training / teachings they’ve had. I also love the fact that they highlighted the concept that while you may want to shield them , being mute or deaf does not make one incapable. Yok’s mom can still work, can function the way everyone else does, the only difference is that her way of communicating is different from the average speaking person. People with disabilities, their life doesn’t start and end with that disability they are not beneath you in any way shape or form.

The episodes topic was once again highlighted through expression of art. Dan did a piece called Dance of Privilege wherein privileged government officials danced freely with much space atop a contraption with many everyday people compacted below. The joy of the few at the price of many. The painting itself not only speaks to the episodes theme but they also used it’s creation scene to juxtapose White’s own monologue of self-reflection as he comes to terms with his own privilege. Which was a beautiful result as we’re left with this raw emotionalism. The pain and the anger spilling from White as he fights this internal battle externally through the punching bag all the while we get this mix of calmness, a reality that is already known and accepted but still fought against through Dan’s way. That calmness heightens the emotionalism that White is expressing and yet just as impactful as the scene finishes on the completion of the work.

A large part of the episode was about White coming to the realization of his own privilege. Usually when you’re of a privilege you don’t understand it until you step out of it or are explained about it. Because you’re just going about your daily life most ppl don’t think about what advantages they have and how those advantages harm the ones who don’t have them. He even goes through 4 of the 5 stages of grief - denial, anger, depression and acceptance - technically I could argue bargaining too cause he def intentionally messed up that test question just to see if there was a real case of privilege only to be shown that there was and then move on to anger. It’s another bout of him confronting his self identity. This whole time he believed himself to be working as part of the solution. He believed that these ideals that he built he could just go in and do work and the world would mirror that. It’s not just his privilege hitting him it’s also the reality of working inside the system instead of against it. He has these ideals and values and he thinks he’ll just implement them and make change and his father keeps trying to force him to see the truth that in these positions your job isn’t to help people, it’s to seem like you are and do want to help people (the everyday man) but in reality you’re doing everything for the benefit of those already in power. You can have an opposing opinion or idea but that doesn’t mean you should ever feel bold enough to try to impose it. So he’s really seeing that even the ways he has been building his life and possible career and just the blind naivety really is showing that he’s more part of the problem than being the solution he thought he was.

This realization is imperative to his growth. For him to really be able to come to terms and start to ‘do the work’ the bubble that he’s encompassed himself in has to be burst and he has to be left exposed to rebuild a better more self aware, conscious and intentional foundation. If you’re wearing blinders that help you not see the struggles of others (willful ignorance) then you are certainly blind to their needs and unable to fight with or for them or stop the harm you yourself are helping pass to others.

I think this also has to do with Sean - not that Sean lacks understanding of privilege, he clearly feels the struggle of his own disadvantages def in comparison of someone like Black/White. I’m speaking to a part of his obsession with Black’s change. More than anyone in the crew Sean seems to really be stuck on & affected by the fact that Black wanted to leave the crew. Like I said before, it’s easy to judge the actions of someone fighting the system when you’re not the one being harmed or when you just don’t care and White has sat in upper class privilege for so long that he falls into that category. He knew the plan was for him to come to Thailand and become a diplomat but it also seems he didn’t do much research on Thailand or really delve into the struggles of the people most marginalized on the land. He has a very surface level concept of ‘helping’. Which is normal and why I say it’s imperative for him to have that bubble burst and gain self awareness. But because of this it’s clear to those around him that his ideals and drive for the cause is drastically different from Black’s. I think deep down Sean has a secret admiration for Black’s passion, the way he planned their schemes and been such a force in keeping everyone focused on the goal, on top of the fact that the target is someone Sean greatly dislikes. They may not be the best of friends these days, they may all be apart of the team for their own reason but they all still fight for the same agenda. So Black just up and deciding to quit or walk away even for a second is so jarring to Sean that he can’t let it go because that’s not the Black he knows for sure. And that’s in large the gist in the question to his…?girlfriend? - the “Could you imagine ever coming to me and saying that you quit graffiti because its bad?” To which she of course verifies that no she wouldn’t and he gives a noncommittal agreement (right). In his mind the Black he knows is even more impassioned about his cause, as gumpa states - Black doesn’t even fear death. He’s a perfectionist and demands the same of everyone else in the crew. Someone like that doesn’t just up and quit his cause. So it’s not these small differences that really leaving White exposed, these things are able to be explained away, it’s the fact that he doesn’t yet understand or believe in his brothers ideology.

I think by the end of the series White will be able to understand and even appreciate that he may have entered the group to help his brother but in doing so, in stepping into his brother shoes, so to speak, allowed him to grow a more rounded perspective than he ever had previously. Right now he thinks he’s living two separate lives with what can seem like two separate realities but both those lives go hand in hand and the more he comes to understand that the position of those at the top affects the lives of those at the bottom and that the actions of those at the bottom are actions of survival the more he can effect real change.

[jihyuncompass]

A Birthday Visit

Well well well would you look at that. My very first Tears of Themis fic is for Marius’s birthday who could have guessed (anyone who knows me) Happy Birthday Marius, I can’t wait to see you again <3

For future reference, this fic was written for Marius’s 2021 birthday. As of yet Tears of Themis has not been released for the English audiences. I have played the beta but there is a chance Marius will be a little out of character as a result of the timing. 

Summary: You visit Marius’s work to celebrate his birthday with him, even if he’s a little busy 

Marius x MC

Word count: 2.1k

Warnings: N/A

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The PAX building was an intimidating one. That thought always came into your mind when you approached it. While the Law Firm was also one of the large skyscrapers that made up the Stellis skyline, the PAX building was taller, and quite the intimidating addition to said skyline. 

It wasn’t the first time you’d been here, far from it, but it was rare for you to go into PAX for a non professional reason, or without being explicitly invited by Marius. You looked up at the building, even without meaning to your eyes focused on the window you knew belonged to Marius’s office. There was a good chance he was in there right now. 

Adjusting your bag over your shoulder you walked through the doors and into the bustling first floor.  

You walked through the groups of professionally dressed employees standing to chat idly, or summarize the recent meetings they had. Or stop to enjoy their coffee for a little while before getting back to work. 

“Welcome to the PAX group.” One of the receptionists started as you walked to the desk. “How can I help you today?” You cleared your throat, speaking as eloquently as you can. 

“Hello, I’m here to see Mr. Von Hagen? I’m a friend.” You said to the receptionist. She raised an eyebrow and looked up at you. Scrutinizing your appearance.  

“I’m sorry, Mr. Von Hagen doesn’t see anyone without a meeting.” You pressed your lips together, 

“I can promise you he’s a good friend of mine, it’s his birthday and-” 

“I’m sorry I have no way to verify that you are who you say you are.” The receptionist said. You reviewed your options in your head, clearly she wasn't going to let you go up there on the promise of being a friend. 

After a moment of brainstorming an idea came to you, digging through your bag you showed the receptionist your work ID badge, listing you as a lawyer for the Themis Law Firm. 

“I’m also Mr. Von Hagen’s personal lawyer, he knows who I am.” The receptionist squinted at the ID, hesitant of it’s quality and authenticity. After typing at her computer briefly she sighed and relented. 

“Aright, I do see your name here. I’ll let you up there and I’ll give a call to Mr. Von Hagen’s assistant to let them know you’re here.” You thanked her and hurried to the elevator. The first challenge was dealt with, now it was just time to go through with the rest of the plan.  

You piled into the elevator with a group of suited men heading to what you assumed were their own desks and offices throughout the building, but you’d be one of the only people going as far up, to nearly the top floor where Marius’s office would be found. 

The elevator was nearly empty by the time you made it up, only a few people exiting with you. 

One of Marius’s assistants was waiting for you on the other side of the elevator. They greeted you as you approached them. 

“Good afternoon.” They said. “I’m afraid to say that Mr. Von Hagen has been stuck in meetings all day so I’m not sure if he’ll be able to see you.” 

You pressed your lips together, you should have asked him in advance, he was usually busier than he always let on. 

“Well I just have a couple things I want to show him, I’m happy to wait for when he has a spare moment.” The assistant seemed unsure but shrugged. 

“Very well, I’ll take you to his office, you can wait there. I’ll let him know that you’re there.” You followed the assistant down the long hallway to the office at the end, the largest by far, belonging to Marius. 

The assistant closed the door behind you, the office was neat and tidy as it always was. Although it was Marius’s office, you were always a little disappointed by just how little of Marius seemed to be in the office. The sleek professional furniture, the carefully organized files, cup full of standard ballpoint pens didn’t seem like Marius. The rebellious, creative and playful Marius you knew well and had grown to adore. 

Sitting on the couch in his office you decided to make use of your time by setting the present you’d gotten him out on the table, along with the small cake box. With your job and caseload you hadn’t had the time to make a particularly fancy or intricate cake. But something small the two of you could easily share.  

You hummed to yourself gently as you got everything set up. Your eyes focused on the work in front of you. So much so you didn’t even notice as the office doors opened while your back was turned. 

“So.” A voice said from behind you. The sudden noise startled you, making you jump. Quickly turning around you were face to face with Marius. Dressed with a full suit, although he had that playful gaze he kept around you. Seeing him, your shoulders relaxed, and a smile crossed your face. “I heard you wanted to see me.” 

“I hoped I could catch you for a minute for your birthday.” You explained to him. “I should have asked about your schedule, I wouldn’t have come if I knew you were so busy.” Marius shook his head. 

“Nah I’m glad you’re here. It’s a perfect surprise.” Marius looked past you and to the table behind you where everything was set up. His eyes lighting up with that almost childlike excitement he got. However that excitement was quickly clouded. 

You frowned. “You don’t have a lot of time huh?”

Marius hesitated to answer you. “I don’t have a lot of time, I have a meeting in a half hour.” 

As you looked from Marius to the table you straighten your back and beamed at him. “Well then let’s make this a fun half hour! Enjoy the time we have.” With this the playfulness returned. The Marius you loved to see. 

Sitting beside one another, you made quick work of slicing the cake into two even slices for the two of you. 

“I’m afraid it’s nothing fancy.” You said. “But I have no doubt it tastes good and that’s what matters, doesn't it?” 

“Did you make it?” Marius asked, a brow raised curiously. 

“I did, I’m not a baker though so be warned.” Marius picked up the fork, picking up the perfect bite of cake to get both the cake and the frosting on top. Watching him closely you made note of his reaction. “What do you think?”

Marius nodded. “It’s good, I think I would even say I’m impressed.” You relaxed against the couch. 

“I’m glad you like it.” You said. “I was worried it wasn’t going to be very good.” You took a bite to taste it yourself, the sweetness of the cake hitting your tongue immediately. You’d had better cakes, but still you couldn’t deny the little part of you that was proud of what you’d made. 

Not wanting to waste your time you quickly leaned forward to push some presents closer. This seemed to grab Marius’s attention away from the cake in his hand. He set it down to pick up one of the gifts, looking over the basic wrapping paper. 

“Go ahead.” You encouraged. “Open it up! Take a look.”  Marius stared with the smallest one, quickly tearing off the paper without much thought. He pulled out two tickets, reading the tiny text on them. “They’re for an upcoming art exhibition I read about online, I thought it’d be fun to go together. I don’t know nearly as much about art as you do but maybe you could teach me some stuff.” 

Marius smirked. “I guess I could spare some of my expansive art knowledge to impart some on you.” 

Holding back from rolling your eyes instead you gave him your best genuine smile. “I would love that. I’d love to learn from you.” Marius seemed pleased by this, as evidenced by the redness that quickly started growing on his face. Looking back at the gift he tried to get himself back under control. 

Similar to the first gift Marius tore the wrapping paper off the second one. This one, a hand held sketchbook, bound nicely with a leather cover, his initials MVH put onto the front. A small note you’d written scribbled onto the first page. 

“This is-”

“Well, you’re always working so hard here, or studying hard at university, and I know you would probably much prefer to be in your studio painting. So, that’s a little sketchbook, one you can carry anywhere.” Flipping through the pages, Marius’s expression turned soft, warm, happy, not holding that playful spark. “I know you probably could afford any notebook in the world, but this one is customized just for you, not another one of these exists just like it.” 

The softness in his face stayed even when he looked up at you, even when he looked down again. 

“Thank you, for this.” He held it carefully in his hands, as if he was afraid of damaging it too soon. Before he could even put pencil to paper for the first time. There were still a couple gifts left, but you let him linger on that one. Trying to memorize every single second in your mind. 

The rest of the gifts were more basic things, special sweets, some art supplies you’d seen when you passed by the art store on your way home. Despite how basic many of these smaller gifts were, he never seemed ungrateful, and equally happy to see each one. 

All the presents unwrapped, and cake nearly finished you both sat together happily. Looking at Marius with the initial excitement wearing off you started to see the exhaustion peeking through. The heaviness in his eyes, the way his shoulders were stiff yet slumped. He looked tired, worn out already. 

“Your assistant said you’ve been in meetings all day?” 

Marius rubbed his eyes. “Yeah, PAX has a big thing coming up. I’ve been in meetings since eight. This is the first break I’ve had all day.” As he spoke he loosened his tie, letting it release some of the tension in his shoulders and neck. 

“You look exhausted.” You said. He sighed and closed his eyes for a few seconds. “Have you been resting?” 

Marius’s eyes opened again. “I was at my studio late last night. But I’m fine.” 

You looked more concerned, you doubted he was really resting enough. With everything he did, there was no possible way he was letting himself take breaks. Even on his birthday he seemed to be working full steam ahead. 

“Marius, why don’t you lay down for a bit? Let yourself rest?” Marius looked over at you, as if he was trying to think through it, crunching the numbers in his head. Gently touching his shoulder you turned him to face you, his eyes raised to look at your face. You loosened up his tie some more and unbuttoned the top button on his dress shirt to let him relax. 

 “Come on.” You said in a soft voice. “Rest for a little bit.” 

He considered this for a little while longer. Then let long a long sigh, he let himself lean forward enough to rest his forehead against your shoulder. Reaching up you rubbed his back, gently massaging to let him relax against you. 

“I can’t rest for long.” Marius muttered. “There’s that meeting-”

“Something is better than nothing.” You reminded him. “How about you lie down? You can rest with me until your meeting.” He was still for a little while longer, then lifted his head long enough to move. 

Marius’s head was laying in your lap. You gently played with his hair, running your fingers through the strands. Marius’s eyes slipped closed, his breaths long and even. 

“My meeting-” 

“I’ll get you up when it’s time. Rest right now.” You told him. He sighed and let himself fully rest. 

“Thank you.” He muttered. 

“Happy birthday Marius.” You whispered to him. Watching him rest, you couldn’t help but smile. This moment was going to be over sooner than later, soon he’d have to get up and get himself cleaned up, he’d go to that meeting, and then the next one and the next one until he could call it a day. He’ll probably go to his studio again, even if he’s exhausted. He’ll try and get some rest, but eventually he’ll get up and start it all again. 

But right now he’s with you and resting. Enjoying the short break he could afford. Maybe not the best birthday one could have, but one that was more than happy. 

[meruz]

i was gonna draw tonight but i dropped my tablet pen and the barrel of the pen broke off and flew somewhere underneath (??) my bed (?) and now i cant find it so I’m just gonna answer asks before bed instead. just some art asks and more mentions of infinity train LOL

What program and brushes do you use when making your art?

@ravki hi! part of this is in my FAQ but i’ll say it again anyways LOL: I use photoshop CC and have used photoshop for pretty much....my whole art career. I’ve dabbled in clip and paint tool sai in the past but photoshop is my true wife, we eloped away from her awful father adobe many years ago and are very happy together. 

as for brushes... I should prob put this info in my FAQ too lol,... my default brush set is actually free to download here! Tho I will say I also use steve ahn’s storyboarding brush sometimes and lately i’ve been using shiyoon kim’s brushes A TON. Shiyoon’s cost a couple bucks but they’re super worth it imo

How do you choose colors?

This is kind of a difficult one to describe from scratch but hmm.... I’ll put it this way. Generally when I go into coloring or painting something I already have some colors in mind. Like for a certain piece I know I want a bright green, or a magenta, or a dark blue in certain areas. A lot of the time I know a mood I want. So I’ll start with that core color tone and build around it. I’ll use an example from a recent piece

So you can see here that the first color I accessed was that bright cyan. So I start with that bright cyan and then bring in its “friends” in the form of analogous colors (shown below on the far left)

greens greys etc. THEN I know I want the characters to stand out against all the blue so I start laying down warm contrasting colors for them (middle group). the mat under them is orange, skin tones are warm, ryans flannel is red etc. then to get them to work together I work more cool colors into the shadows and slightly warmer (not too warm because its a cool img overall so in this case, greener LOL) colors into highlights. 

hope that makes sense? for me choosing colors is a lot about story and composition. If you know what you want to say, the mood you want to create, where you want to go, the path to get there becomes a lot clearer imo.

Have you ever considered making an art book?

I have! But I don’t think I currently have enough...original illustrations for one LOL? Not that an art book has to be all original work but if I were putting fanart in an art book...at that point I’d just make a fanzine. I’m making more original work lately though so maybe this year....? Who knows. For now, I do have a sketchbook up on gumroad. Hoping to do one of those next year too.

Any tips for keeping background drawings from getting super stiff, especially since things like interiors have a lot of straight lines?

This is a really interesting ask. Really great question that I don’t think gets asked enough - forgive me if I get a bit art school here but I drew up some examples.

First I think we have to investigate the assumption that straight lines make things stiff. That seems true on an instinctual level and certainly proves to be true very often But I don’t think its actually the straight lines themselves but the sort of arrangements and compositions they tend to dictate. Take this for instance.

pretty big difference, right? there’s a couple things that make a composition feel stiff and one of the most significant is lines that are perpendicular and parallel to the frame. it feels locked in and solid, like bricks. but the moment you shift these angles even a little the composition instantly becomes more dynamic because our innate senses of weight, gravity, and directionality can sense movement.

But it’s not just diagonals let’s take this one step further

when lines meet and terminate together those tangents can flatten and lock space so the best way to solve this is with overlap and complete intersection, forms continuing past or behind each other feel more layered and less like a flat mosaic... again, even in the simplest line drawings. So how do we apply this to a background?

ok I drew this really fast so its potentially not the best example but I think the idea is there. This space isn’t even particularly deep, it’s basically a room, a doorway, and a hallway behind it, and we’re not seeing that much of any of those things LOL. but when you draw an environmental object like a doorway in a way that lines up with the perpendicular and parallel lines of the canvas you’re automatically flattening it and making it look rigid.

and when you create tangents with objects and characters you flatten the space around them and make it difficult to tell what is actually in front or behind or if they’re on the same plane.

GOD I HOPE THIS MAKES SENSE. Anyways. avoid those things and you’ll instantly have less stiff bgs no matter what kind of bg you’re depicting.

I wanna mention however that this isn’t to say a stiff bg with flat space doesn’t have its purposes.

sometimes you want to create parallels and tangents. it can make characters feel closed in, trapped, regimented, part of a routine, etc. it’s also great for making a composition look ornamental (especially combined with symmetry).

directors like wes anderson can even use these compositional elements to make images feel uncanny or harrowing! its very versatile. I think the important thing is to just be aware of when you are making something rigid and when that’s the last thing you want to do. conscious choices.

Can you speak Tagalog?

@lemuelzero101​ I can! BUT NOT VERY WELL LOL ;;; both my parents are from Visayas! but they met and had me in the states lol so I’m pretty American born and raised. We go back to visit family on occasion but not regularly. My tagalog is mostly absorbed from listening to relatives at parties lol and my parents speak bisaya at home so I’m marginally better at that. Sorry to any filipinos out there hoping I’d be better educated, I’m like a little baby...

I do love meeting and talking to other filipinos online though, I grew up in an area that was relatively diverse but the asian population was small and the filipino population basically non-existent. I was like one of maybe 2 filipino kids in my highschool of 2000.

Apart from infinity train what shows are you watching now? Have you seen jujitsu kaisen?

Man this is gonna sound so boring but I haven’t watched a lot of tv lately.  It’s not really part of my daily routine. Let’s see... I was sort of watching Amphibia, Craig of the Creek, and the new Digimon Adventure 2020 but I keep falling off watching those for one reason or another. Also there’s a lot of episodes, it doesn’t feel like something I can just binge and be done with.

The last thing I binged was Succession. I want that show and Euphoria back so bad, when I’m done forcing all my friends to watch Infinity Train im cancelling my HBO subscription until Succession and Euphoria return so they know exactly what I’m on their list for LOL. 

I have not watched jujitsu kaisen but I’ve kept up with some of the sakuga news (I keep up with anime industry news and production info like x5 the amt i keep up with actual anime) for it and their compositing/editing looks dope. I’ve read the manga actually LOL or at least part of the beginning. I wasn’t super keen on the whole finger eating thing. Also to be honest I kinda feel like its the new Bleach and I never particularly cared about Bleach. Characters look nice enough tho. I wholeheartedly support jjk fans.

Thank you! Thank you @keznodzieja​! <3

And thank you anons who don’t watch infinity train LOL...it’s always nice to hear when people enjoy my fanart despite not knowing the source material because it lifts a little bit of the “oh god am I being annoying???” fear off my chest. But also I think you should watch infinity train because it’s really good I have no reservations recommending it.

[kiirokero]

Outro: Love is Not Over (14)

Pairing: Daycare Teacher! Hoseok x Single Mom! Reader.

Genre: Single Parent! AU, Teacher! AU, Hybrid! AU, Fluff, Angst, Adorable Kids,

Warnings: Swearing, if that needs a warning

Word Count: 2.8K

Note: AFK :’) Oh my god please don’t let this suck in the morning 

Summary: Years after a relationship goes south. You are the single mother of a beautiful 6-year-old golden retriever hybrid who you named Yunho. He is the light of your life. Yunho is everything to you, and you’d do anything for him. But you’re a human. Yunho doesn’t care, he will tell you he doesn’t. “You’re still my Eomma. No matter what.” He says. But you can’t help but feel like you will never be enough for him. You can’t be the mother he deserves. You can’t show him the ropes of being a hybrid, and you can’t teach him things the other moms can. But you try. You try your damn hardest. So, when a handsome German Shepard hybrid comes into your life, helping you and guiding Yunho in a way you can’t, you can’t help the cozy home he sets up in your heart.

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It had rained the previous night.

    Nothing drastic, but it was enough to make the forest around me and Hoseok dewy. Occasionally, a spare raindrop would fall from the leaves above onto Hoseok's head and he’d squeak in surprise, looking up at the culprit tree with a pout and lowered ears. Every time. It was endearing. The way his eyes lit up at any pretty flower we would pass, how he smiled so widely when he put one of them behind my ear, how he vowed to protect me from any scary creatures that lurked in the forest. (If I was being honest, Hoseok was the only one worried about that)

    I came here because I sorted out my feelings and was ready to let them spill, but now I’m second guessing myself. If perfect didn’t exist, then why is Jung Hoseok here? Why is he by my side, rambling about the “macaroni art disaster” that happened last Tuesday, and why am I listening with a smile on my face? Why is he here with me? I spent years chasing after a “perfect life” with a man who didn’t give two shits about me, just to have perfection on legs waltz into my life and wiggle into the heart of not only me, but my son too.

   I was a broken mirror. Still functional, aesthetic, and usable, but compared to the crystal chandelier that was Hoseok, I was nothing but that annoying piece of glitter that’s follows people around since their arts and crafts day at Kindergarten. Why would the crystal want the glass when the crystal is pure perfection?

    Jung Hoseok shattered the image of perfect I had in my head and replaced it with a prettier one. Perfection used to be having a nice house, a nice family, living a debt free life. Perfection was the expectations forced upon me by my family at a young age, and I rolled with it out of fear of disappointment. Then Jung Hoseok showed up with his pretty brown eyes and lovable personality and rocked the boat saying,

“Perfection isn’t perfect. Perfection is what makes you happy.”

   Perfection is what makes you happy, and god did Jung Hoseok make me the happiest I’ve been in years. I wanted to bottle that happiness up and cuddle it to sleep. Every single second he was with me I was happy, and I used to hate it. Now I can’t imagine my life without it...

  “Hoseok, when I asked if you could watch Yunho, I wasn’t expecting to come home to this.” I chuckled. Both Hoseok and Yunho looked like deer caught in headlights, but I could see the small itch of a smile on Hoseok’s face. “But Eomma! I had a sore throat,” Yunho whined, his lips stained blue and his face was slowly turning red.

   “And popsicles cure sore throats?” I asked playfully. I wasn’t mad, no, because I knew that even if Yunho ate popsicles now, he’d still scarf down his dinner. No problem. “...Mr. Hoseok said it would,” Yuhno snitched.

   Hoseok gasped in faux offense, getting a giggle out of the younger hybrid. “I feel betrayed!” He said in an overly dramatic voice, causing Yunho to laugh harder. I couldn’t help but laugh along with them

Perfection isn’t perfect. Perfection is what makes you happy.

   “Did he fall asleep?” Hoseok asked, looking down at Yunho who was currently lost in dreamland, drooling on my shoulder. “Mhm, I guess all that playing at the park tired him out,” I chuckled, kissing Yunho on the cheek, making sure not to jostle him too much. 

  Hoseok looked at us fondly, the slightest of smiles on his face. “What?” I asked with a smile of my own. Hoseok merely shrugged, “The two of you are cute, that’s all,” He said, looking down to kick a rock that was on the sidewalk. I blushed, holding Yunho just a tad bit tighter. “Thank you,” I said. Hoseok looked back at me. 

“You’re a wonderful mom,”

“I like to think so,”

It’s what makes you happy...

   “I can go. You don’t have to feel like you need to keep me here,” Hoseok offered gently. The moonlight that shone through the drawn curtains of the living room illuminated his warm features perfectly. The slope of his nose, the curve of his eyes, the upturn of his smile. I wonder what Michelangelo was thinking when he sculpted Hoseok. Probably something in Italian. 

   I grabbed his hand, dragging him back to the couch. “No, you can stay. If you want to, of course... I’d like to chill with you,” I said with somewhat trembling hands and an erratic heart. “You would?” He asked, stars painted in his eyes. I nodded, sitting down on the couch. Hoseok immediately took the space beside me, one of his arms on the back of the couch behind me and the other on his lap. 

  Hoseok sighed, “Adult time,” He joked. “I’m a single mother. My ‘adult time’ is my nap time,” I chuckled, sinking down into the cushions. “Hmm, well, if that’s the case, should we put on a movie until you fall asleep?” He suggested, one of his brows raised. “What about you, though? Leaving you to explore my own dreamland is a bit rude, don’t you think?” I asked, raising my brow as well. 

   “Then let me ask a followup question. Is it okay if I crash on your couch for the night?” He asked cheekily, as if he knew that I couldn’t refuse him. “Hm, I guess,” I sighed sarcastically. I was unable to hide my smile though. “Great!” Hoseok exclaimed, taking the blanket that laid next to him and draping it over us, snuggling up to me. “Is this okay?” He asked. 

“Y-yeah... This is okay,”

The pancakes I made in the morning with a giggly Yunho and a smiling Hoseok tasted sweeter than normal. 

Perfection isn’t perfect. Perfection is what makes you happy. 

And I hoped I could be selfish just for today to secure my happiness for tomorrow. 

   “Y/n, are you okay? Earth to Y/n~” Hoseok called in a singsong voice, poking one of my arms, dragging me out of my flashbacks. Startled, I nodded with a hum, nervously twiddling with my fingers. “Mhm,” Hoseok chuckled, “We’re here.” I looked at our surroundings, realizing that I left Hoseok in awkward silence all the way through the trail. (It wasn’t awkward, Hoseok thought it was comfortable)

   I gasped, “O-Oh! Oh... we are,” Hoseok smiled, grabbing my hand and leading me off the trail into a small clearing of vibrant green grass and small white daisies. He put down the basket he had in his hand and pulled out a cliche red checkered picnic blanket. “Cheeseball,” I giggled. Hoseok stuck his tongue out at me playfully, obviously proud of his blanket choices. He laid it out on the grass, making sure it was prim and proper before turning to me with a beaming smile, encouraging me to sit down. 

   I did as he silently asked and sat down on the blanket, thankful to give my legs a break. It was soft, I noticed, perfect for taking a nap in the afternoon sun. Hoseok plopped down next to me, his tail furiously wagging back and forth as he pulled out various different food containers from the basket. “So, I may have gone a bit... Overboard... But I just wanted to make you at least one thing that you’d liked.” He smiled, unashamed of his actions and more satisfied, like he was overachieving on a school project. “Hoseok, I’m sure I’d call your PB&J’s gourmet,” I chuckled, taking a hold of the chopsticks he was offering me. 

  Hoseok laughed along, opening the first container and placing it in between us. It looked like Kkakdugi. “What if we taste test each dish and decide on our favorites? Then we can eat those,” He suggested, and I nodded along. I’d honestly go along with anything he’d say. Hoseok picked up a piece of radish, holding it up to my lips. I leaned away for a second, cocking a brow. “Here,” He said, pressing the food to my lips again. I relented and let him feed me the radish. 

  I sighed, closing my eyes and basking in the sweet and slightly spicy taste. “If everything is this good, I’m going to have to hibernate for a year after this,” I said, somewhat seriously, somewhat jokingly. Hoseok laughed, falling back onto the blanket in a fit of giggles. “We’d better get on it then,” He said. 

“Not to be mean, but how do you burn kimchi?”

   Hoseok covered his face in embarrassment, rolling on his side so he didn’t have to look at my teasing smile. “I don’t know! I mean, maybe the burnt taste was something else,” He argued back with a pout. We were currently full and happy, laid on our back and looking up at the orange sky, pointing out oddly shaped clouds. And talking about how Hoseok managed to burn Baechu-Kimchi.

Also, avoiding the entire reason I asked Hoseok to hang out with me today...

   It was hard! No matter how many times I practiced in the mirror the previous or hyped myself up in my head, he would smile or laugh or say something in that sultry voice of his, and my mind would blank. I was fighting with the mini Hyejin on my shoulder that was acting like a furious grandmother, constantly pulling at my ear and saying, “Dumb dumb, just spill it,” 

   “Hey, are you okay?” Hoseok spoke up suddenly. I turned my head towards him, catching his pretty brown eyes immediately. His soft brunette was falling over his face gently, occasionally moving whenever the breeze blew through. “W-What?” I asked, shaking myself out of whatever trance he manages to put me in whenever we lock eyes. 

   Hoseok chuckled, his dark brown ears twitching slightly when a leaf landed on one of them. “You’ve been out of it a lot today. Also, I can tell you're anxious,” He said, “What’s bothering you, buttercup?” He asked, and I felt my ears heat up at the pet name. Stupid Y/n just speak words, you’re literally a journalist. “Um, I just have some things on my mind,” If this were a drama, and I happened to be the main character, fans of the show would probably be screaming at their tv screens right now. 

    “Do you want to talk about it?” Hoseok asked. “I should, I really should,” I sighed. I could tell my words confused Hoseok, but he left a space for me to speak nonetheless, giving me a smile of encouragement. Just say something, anything. Alright, okay. 1... 2... 3... Go! “I wish I met you 6 years ago,” I blurted out, backtracking once I realized what I said. “No... 5 years ago, cause then I’d still have Yunho,” 

Hoseok giggled slightly. “And why’s that?” 

“Because then life wouldn’t have been as hard...” I answered honestly

   Hoseok had a baffled look on his face. I looked back up at the sky, distracting myself with the pretty formations of clouds and let my subconscience do the work and talk, finally letting it all out. Hoseok’s ears stood at attention when I opened my mouth again. “It's always been Yunho and I... Him and I against the world.” I started.

“Like his cartoon?” Hoseok asked. 

“Like his cartoon,” I smiled. 

   I took a deep breath. “It’s obvious that my last relationship didn’t end well, and that it still effects me to this day... I remember even swearing to myself that I would never fall in love again, but then... This Jung Hoseok dude came along,” I snickered, pretending I was alone and this was another practice run. It made things easier. Hoseok stayed silent. “He came along with his handsome face, warm smile and amazing personality. God, he even made me jealous sometimes...” 

“I’m sure there’s no reason to be jealous.”

   “Oh, but there is. He’s amazing, absolutely amazing. Not just because he memorizes all my favorites or makes it his mission to make me smile, but because he’s amazing with my kid. He’s amazing with my kid in a way that I can’t be.” I stressed. 

“What do you-” 

   “Human mom and hybrid son, I mean, those are total opposites,” I joked, cutting Hoseok off. “Often times I would second guess myself as a mother and worry if I was teaching Yunho the right things but then Jung Hoseok came in and eased my worries. He took Yunho under his wing and the both of us couldn’t be happier,” I rambled, unaware of the blinding smile Hoseok was shooting at me. “We both don’t know what we would do if he drifted away one day,”

“He won’t”

   I finally gathered the courage to look at him. If the stars were in his eyes before, then andromeda was in them now. His dimpled smile and wrinkled eyes melted my heart. “Yeah, that’s why I’m saying all this in hopes that he’s picking up what I’m putting down,” I mumbled. “What are you putting down?” He asked. “That Jung Hoseok stole my heart and I’m not mad about it.”

   Hoseok suddenly stood up, reaching his hand down to offer me help up. I quirked a brow. But Hoseok eased my worries with a simple “Trust me,” I put my hand in his, and he enthusiastically pulled me up, causing me to fall into his chest. He steadied me with his hands on my waist, and I looked up at him, still confused. “I wasn’t done, ya know,” I pouted. “Well then, continue,” He chuckled. 

“I was saying that Jung Hoseok should know about my insecurities and emotional baggage that he would have to deal with if he wanted to be with me,”

“It’s not ‘dealing with it’ It’s accepting your flaws as a part of you, and I love every part of you,” Hoseok said, leaning closer into me. 

“Love?”

“Mhm, that’s what I said.”

   Hoseok leaned in even closer until we pressed our foreheads together. Neither of us said anything, we just looked into each other's eyes, comfortably this time, with nothing but the forest ambiance to break the silence. “I’m telling you, Jung, there is a lot of baggage,” I sighed somberly. “And I’m willing to help you cope with it,” He said. “I have a kid, Jung,” I pointed out, subconsciously trying to find any deal breaker now rather than later.

   “I know, and he’s adorable.” He smiled. “That doesn’t make you feel weird?” I asked. Hoseok shook his head. “Not at all. When I said every part of you, I meant it Y/n,” He stressed, bring up one of his hands to cup my face. “You’re so nice it’s annoying sometime,” I joked, leaning into his touch. Hoseok merely laughed. 

I don’t know how it happened.

Or why I didn’t realize it. 

    Slowly but surely, we leaned in, looking each other in the eye until mine closed. I felt Hoseok’s soft lips on my own only moments after. It was like breathing for the first time. The feeling that erupted in my chest was addictive. I could already tell that much. If I was freezing, this kiss would warm me up. If I was hurt, this kiss was like ice on a wound. This kiss was pure relief. Relief that I finally spoke up, relief that I didn’t chicken out. 

Relief that I could finally be happy.

   Hoseok’s lips were like saccharine marshmallows created by the gentlest of deities. The heart shape of them fit perfectly against my own, like our lips were lost puzzle pieces needed to create the perfect picture of happiness. His earthy forest scent filled my nose. It used to be calming. Now it was downright hypnotic. His hands felt like warm embers against my skin, surrounding me in a shroud of warmth and comfort.

   I gripped my hands in his coat, pulling him even closer than he already was. I wanted to feel nothing but his warm embrace. I felt his lips curve into a smile as he kissed me deeper, bringing me farther into his trance. My knees were on the verge of buckling, but I willed them to stay still so I could savor this moment just a bit longer. Just a bit more. 

   Hoseok pulls away slightly to let out a sigh that hit my red lips. We were still pressed close. The slightest of breezes could blow me over and his soft lips would be on mine again. “Look at what you do to me,” Hoseok whispered, looking me in my eyes with his lidded ones that were filled with adoration. I was confused for a minute before I felt something soft hit my leg. I looked down, holding back a giggle when I saw Hoseok’s tail swinging madly, faster than I’ve seen it go before. 

“I’m happy too,”

“You knew I had a crush on you, didn’t you?”

“I mean, I'm a hybrid so I can smell it...”

“Embarrassment can’t begin to describe how I feel,”

“Aww but it was cute.”

Tag List: @kurochan3 @mrcleanheichou @anonymous-armys-blog @bella-raina @purelyecstacy @lindsayjoy444  @unicornbabylover @xicanacorpse @creatorspalace @thesweetest-peas​ @fangirl125reader​ 

© KiiroKero

[binxyu]

He was obsessed with the beauty of colors. Even if he could not see them without you, he adored the way they showed up on his canvas. His biggest fear was losing them and, with that, you. Too bad his biggest fear came true...

>>Pairing: Park Seonghwa (dom) x fem!reader (sub) ft. Jung Wooyoung | artist!seonghwa x photographer!reader

>>Word Count: 4.9k

>>Genre: Mini Series / Requested / Smut & Angst

>>Warnings/Kinks: Begging, blood play, breast play, choking, creampie, cumplay, degrading, hair pulling, light bondage, marking, mess, mirrors, oral (giving + receiving), overstimulation, praise, scratching, size kink, spanking, spitting, unprotected sex, and voice kink

next part ->

The bitter sweet taste of your coffee hits your tongue as you look at the artwork, a vast array of architectural models, photographs, paintings, and sculptures greeting you as you walk into the museum.

You didn’t particularly like coffee. It’s primary purpose was to keep you awake from a long night of editing.

Your heels clinked against the tile and you waited for your boyfriend with a smile, his sluggish steps only making you giggle. You knew he hated this type of thing but he did like you so he was going to get through it.

“You really didn’t have to come”, Wooyoung pecked your lips and shook his head. You knew he’d answer the same way he always did.

“I wanted to. You always look so happy here”.

Bingo.

Sometimes you wished Wooyoung had something else to comment back. That he would describe the colors of everything to you since you’ve never seen them or say how beautiful and unique the abstract art was. Anything else but that he did it to make you happy.

Lots of people questioned your interest in the arts when you couldn’t even see the colors. Why choose it as a career? Why spend so much time staring at black and white filled frames?

Well, you always knew you’d meet the person to introduce those colors one day. That and the fact that, even in dull black and white, you could still admire the technique and beauty of the art.

You always had an eye for detail and could tell if anything had changed on your favorite pieces, even the smallest drop of ink from an employee’s pen. That’s why you stayed awake on most nights, dwelling over the smallest imperfections in your photography.

All of your photos were black and white and you supposed you had chosen that to show that the world was beautiful. Beautiful even in only two shades.

“I’ll be back. I’m going to go to the bathroom”, you nodded and watched as your boyfriend walked away. You took another hesitant sip of the coffee, cringing at the taste but it seemed to disappear as you noticed a new painting on display.

Your head tilted as you admired it. It was definitely unique, an organized mess, and you had to assume it was meant to be abstract. Your eyes lingered to the signature in the corner, small but neat.

“PS?”, your eyebrows furrowed as you tried to rack your brain for any recognition of the initials. You found none.

“Park Seonghwa. He’s a new artist I’ve heard”, you didn’t respond to the man behind you, only staring at the painting as an attempt to figure out the meaning behind it.

“Is he any good?”, the man behind you chuckled at the question and you heard his footsteps approach, standing beside you to stare at the painting too.

“Not sure. Why don’t you tell me?”, the question had you humming in thought, sipping your drink as you analyzed the art.

“Well, I can’t comment on color but the landscape is a masterpiece. It’s symbolic of the chaos of the world. However, I don’t believe it goes with the contrast of the sky. It’s too... calm”, you finished, finally finding the right words to say your opinion.

“You do realize most people only come here to stare and act smart, right? You actually seem interested”, you smiled at the man’s comment and raised an eyebrow, “what do you think the artist should do to make it better?”.

“I’d work on the sky more. Draw the painting together with something more related to the message. If you’re doing chaos you might as well go all out, right?”, you laughed a little and looked to your side when you felt a familiar presence there.

“What’s wrong, baby?”, you didn’t see but you addressing Wooyoung that way had the stranger frowning in disappoint. You hadn’t even given him a glance.

“Work. They said it’s urgent”, you frowned too, not having been able to see the rest of the new works, “you can stay. I just have to go” you shook your head and held his hand in your’s.

“No, I’ll go with you. I can always come back tomorrow”, you gave him your most reassuring smile you could muster and walked beside him out of the museum, too focused on the memory of that painting to hear the question of the stranger. He only wanted to know your name.

Like promised, you did come back the next day. The only difference was that you did not spend the whole time staring at that painting to try to figure out it’s deepest secrets. You looked at everything else first.

A different painting had caught your attention. Well, originally thought to be different.

The longer you seemed to stare at it, the more familiar it became.

It all became clear when you looked at the signature in the corner.

“PS”, you mumbled and you looked over the painting again. It was eerily similar to his last painting but it was perfect.

A slightly different landscape but a sky full of delightfully done destruction.

“He really outdid himself”, you smiled, but then you realized.

“I did, huh?”, this time you did turn to look at the man, admiring his side profile. He was attractive. Actually, attractive was an understatement.

“You’re Park Seonghwa?”, you were a little taken aback, never having seen one of the artists actually in the museum looking at their work. Much less asking strangers for their opinions of it.

“Yeah. Amateur artist”, he chuckled and shoved his hands in the pockets of his jeans. Everything about him did scream struggling artist. From the vivid patches of paint on his whitewashed jeans to the array of pens sticking out of his pocket.

His work, however, screamed the opposite.

“Your work doesn’t show it”, you shook your head as you looked back at the painting, admiring how he had taken your advice to heart.

“Thank you”, you took the time of those words to listen intently to the gracefulness of his voice. Everything about him was some form of art. Perfectly made.

“I’m y/n, amateur photographer”, he let out a small snicker at that and you turned your head to look at him.

“Sorry- it’s just funny that we’re both amateur-“, his words were cut off as he locked eyes with you. The world seemed to freeze as color suddenly flooded it, filling the museum with so much vibrancy that you had to squeeze your eyes shut. It was overwhelming.

“Amateur soulmates?”, you joked half-hearteningly as you opened your eyes again, slowly taking in the world around you. Seonghwa was doing the same, looking at every piece of art in such a new light. A new light in a world full of darkness.

“Seems like it”, he nods, looking at his own work. It was the only one still familiar, made entirely of black and white oil paints. That was the world you had both been in for so long.

“Shit”, you cursed without realizing, finally piecing it together in your mind that this was your soulmate. Not Wooyoung. It was never Wooyoung.

“What? Aren’t you supposed to be happy? Look at it all!”, Seonghwa waved around the room and, you did have to admit, it was breathtaking. All you wanted to do was stare at it all for hours. Take in every new detail imaginable.

“Remember my boyfriend?”, your words were like a slap, an awakening call to a once extraordinary moment.

“Yeah, I suppose you’ll have to tell him”, for some reason that pissed you off. Why wouldn’t you tell Wooyoung? You had to. You weren’t just going to ghost him.

“What? Do you expect me to just ghost him?”, your arms crossed across your chest and you lowered your gaze, finding it too much to finally see someone’s face in full color and gloriousness. The familiar black and white greeted you as you stared at your shoes.

“No. Definitely not. I just... assumed you’d be as excited as I am. That’s all”, oh how correct he was. You were beyond excited. You could finally see the world in all its shades and textures with someone that wanted that too.

“I am! I really am, Seonghwa. I need time is all”, his eyes lit up at that and you admired them. It was cute how they widened. The warm color of them almost drawing you in, an invitation to run away with him. To create the most beautiful art with him.

“Keep coming back and I’ll be here. I’ll wait”, you nodded when you noticed his hand hovering over your’s. He smiled softly and took it into his, squeezing it and you felt engulfed with warmth and comfort.

“Till next time then amateur. I’ll look at your photo so you can paint with color”, the artist chuckled and shook his head, already knowing that wasn’t going to work. He liked the intuitive though.

“Bye my amateur soulmate”, your heart seemed to swell in your chest in an almost painful way. You found yourself almost forgetting Wooyoung even existed and that... that was an awful realization.

“You told him?”, the artist asked as he painted, delicately applying the brush where he deemed necessary. You weren’t sure what he was painting, his easel turned away from you and towards him.

“Yeah, we agreed to just stay friends. I think we were already falling out of love anyways”, Seonghwa’s eyebrows furrowed at that and he looked back at you. Color flooded your world like it always did when he looked at you, but it still caught you off guard each time.

“Why do you say that?”, you kicked your legs back and forth softly as you sat on the counter, the question clouding your mind as you racked up an answer.

“We didn’t really have common interests. I was into art while he was more a business man”, Seonghwa nodded and looked back at his work, making the world go dull again. You hated that. You wished all the colors would just stay so you could see him in all his glory all the time.

“Wait- can you look here again?”, your request was quiet and shy, but the man did hear you. He looked back up at you and you let out a sigh of relief as you got to see the beauty of the room again. His art was hung up all over the walls and you just loved to look at it, examine it.

“You know... I’ve never seen your photography”, Seonghwa thought out loud as he looked at you. He hid one of his hands behind his back and walked over to you.

“Want to see? I have some of the photos saved on my phone”, you started to dig in your purse for your phone but you felt a cold sensation on your cheek, making your head whirl around to look at the man.

“You- you did not just smear paint on my cheek”, the artist gave you an innocent smile as an answer and it was all you needed to jump off the counter and start running for the paint buckets.

Colors flew around the room as you both threw the paint at one another. The both of you ended up looking like living abstract artwork by the time you ran out of paint.

“This is not comfortable”, Seonghwa laughed at your comment as his eyes trailed down your body. The wet paint stuck to your body and he respectfully looked away, not wanted to look somewhere that would make you uncomfortable.

“You can look at your mess”, you giggled as you tried to wipe away the bubblegum pink on your cheek that was way too close to your mouth for your comfort. The artist had some good aim.

Your words made him swoon. Your mess.

“My beautiful mess”, your cheeks went redder than the paint on your chest and Seonghwa chuckled, loving the sight of your flush. This time, his eyes admired your body fully. How the palette of colors contrasted to your skin, how your eyes lit up as you looked at him, and how your wet clothes clinged to your body.

“Can I?”, you nodded, loving that he always asked first before he did anything. You were both new to the emotions that filled you when you were together.

His large hands rested on your waist and then traveled downwards to rest on your hips, memorizing every curve as if you were the most complicated sculpture he had ever seen.

“Can I?”, you repeated the question as you eyed the lewd sight of his bare chest showing through his flimsy shirt. He nodded, his eyes never leaving your body. Your own hands went to his chest, ghosting over his nipples before they arrived at his stomach.

“Do you work out?”, the muscle beneath your fingers was hard to ignore and so was the way Seonghwa’s hands had trailed up to cup your breasts, feeling how your nipples got harder from just that feeling.

“Yeah, I do sometimes”, you wondered why he gave you such a blunt answer but then you realized he was staring at your face now. Well, more specifically your lips.

“Creative and athletic. Anything else I should know to keep me attached to you?”, Seonghwa shook his head and you finally connected your lips together. His lips were soft and plump. They felt so perfect against your own and your bodies pressed together in such a feverous way that you worried your legs would give out underneath you.

His arms wrapped around your waist and pulled you closer to him, rubbing his crotch against your core. The heat ran through your veins all the way to your thighs, soaking the skin there with arousal.

“How about we make use of this paint?”, your eyebrows furrowed in confusion before your eyes followed where Seonghwa was staring, finding a lone canvas in the corner of the room. It was huge and your mind seemed to click with the artist’s as the same idea pops in your head.

“We’re definitely not selling this”, Seonghwa laughed and nodded in agreement, his hands gripped the hem of your shirt and pulled it up over your head. He wasn’t surprised to find no bra underneath. You were adamant about the fact that if you didn’t have to then you wouldn’t.

“Oh yeah, most definitely not. This is all mine”, his hands gripped your ass and you jumped up, wrapping your legs around his waist tightly and your arms around his neck. He was so intoxicating and your body ached for me, wanting nothing more than to be used by him.

“All your’s”, you nodded and connected your lips again, tasting your own distinct coffee on them. This time, however, you didn’t cringe at the taste. On his lips, it felt right. Bitter and sweet.

Seonghwa used his feet to maneuver the canvas, causing it to lay flat on the tilt. It was inviting, calling out to be covered in the love, chaos, and art your two bodies could make together.

He laid you back onto it, your back already applying a variety of colors to the canvas. Your silhouette would definitely be the most distinct shape in the painting.

“It’s already a masterpiece”, the artist hovered above you, adoring your rosy cheeks and the way your body perfectly fits on the canvas. He would never forget how you looked in this moment.

You noticed how his fingers were playing with the waistband of your skirt and you gently gripped his wrist to stop him. He looked up at you like you had just told him off.

“You can have me. Take me, baby”, his expression immediately relaxed and he leaned up to kiss you, his tongue exploring your mouth as his fingers trailed up underneath the skirt. It was ticklish and slow, a teasing game you knew he was playing.

“Oh come on. Don’t be a fucking tease”, you smiled against his lips and he pulled your panties to the side, trailing his finger up your slit. He pulled it away and you whined from the loss of contact, but that whine was cut short when you watched him like your juices off his fingers in the most lewd way. He sucked on his digit as he maintained eye contact with you, moaning as your taste coated his tongue.

“You’re delicious”, his eyes were blown out with lust and another wave of arousal went to your core at the sight. Seonghwa’s hands gripped your thighs and pulled you to the edge of the canvas, making you yelp before his head was buried under your skirt. His tongue circled around your drenched pussy and your hand immediately found solace in his dark hair, watching as the bright orange paint on his hands spread on your thighs.

“Please, Seonghwa. I need you”, you tugged on his hair, shivers going up your spine from the wet paint and the feeling of the artist’s cold breath so close to where you need him most.

He doesn’t need to be told twice as he plunges his tongue into your cunt, swirling it around to hit your walls as his finger works magic on your clit, rubbing it in figure-eight motions.

A sweet moan left your lips and your back arched, hands gripping the edge of the canvas behind you. You knew you were scratching up the canvas and leaving any color there on your hands, but nothing mattered at the moment except the pleasure Seonghwa was giving you.

Now your moans were his favorite sound, striving to hear more of them as he curled his tongue inside of you. You were absolutely ravishing. Perfect with every sound, smell, and taste.

“Fuck! I’m going to cum!”, your head rested back on the canvas as a knot began to form in your stomach, begging to be released. Seonghwa continued his pace until your love juices coated his tongue, an even more addicted taste entering his life.

He pulled away, spitted on your hole, and pushed his tongue right back in. Your legs began to shake from the overstimulation as the man mercilessly lapped at your pussy, wanting every last drop of your delicious cum in his mouth.

“You might just be my favorite food now”, your tongue poked your inner cheek in annoyance when you saw his teasing smirk appear, no longer hidden beneath your skirt.

“Might be?”, you scoffed playfully as you tried to calm down from your orgasm. Seonghwa chuckled mischievously and kissed you, the taste of your own release welcoming you and you moaned into his mouth.

“Definitely are”, he corrected himself and you smiled proudly as Seonghwa’s hands tugged your skirt off and he threw the fabric to the side.

“Hold on, I can’t be the only one naked here”, you stopped him with a hand on his chest before he could remove your panties. You sat up and looked him in the eye as you unzipped his jeans painfully slow, feeling his erection grow harder beneath your hands.

You gasped when his hands suddenly gripped your hair and pulled your head back, the sting making your head hurt momentarily. Seonghwa held your hair in a tight grip to keep you still as he removed his jeans and boxers himself, the clothing joining your own in the corner of the room.

“Just for that you’ll return the favor, doll”, he pulled you up by your hair onto your knees, the paint on the canvas sticking to your calves as you eyed his erection. Your mouth practically watered at the sight of his angry cock begging for attention.

“Get to work”, it seemed like such a simple and innocent command but Seonghwa managed to make it sound like the most absurd phrase known to man. He forced your head to his cock by your hair and you opened your mouth like a puppet hanging by strings. Tears sprung up in your eyes as his tip hit the back of your throat and he stayed still to allow you to get used to his size.

You patted his thigh as a sign he could move. Seonghwa started to move your head back and forth by your hair and the sensation of your warm mouth wrapped around him caused him to let out a hefty groan. It was like music to your ears and you sped up, moving your head on your own now.

Your hands gripped the muscular flesh of Seonghwa’s thighs, scratching the smooth skin. You could feel blood start to stick to your fingertips and drip down onto the canvas, but it only soaked into the array of colors already there.

“You feel so good, baby. You want my cum?”, you desperately nodded your head as you looked up at him, locking eyes with his as he came down your throat. Your eyes closed shut as you swallowed him, a citrusy bitter taste exploding in your mouth.

“Pineapples?”, you smiled up at him after he took his dick out of your mouth. He laughed and nodded, running his fingers through your hair softly, a entirely different feeling from his grip there before.

“Mhm, addicting huh?”, the artist smiled and you nodded immediately, collecting some of the cum on your chin that had slipped out of your mouth. Seonghwa watched as you sucked on your fingers, igniting a new fire within him that wanted nothing more than to absolutely ruin you.

“Hands and knees”, you didn’t have to be told twice and you turned around to get in position like a trained bitch, your ass in the air and your back arched. The feeling of your bare nipples rubbing against the cold paint made another gush of wetness rush down your thighs.

“These panties are practically useless at this point”, Seonghwa’s lust-filled chuckle made a shiver run down your spine as he looked at how they just stuck to your folds and he pulled them down your legs. Silence filled the air as he admired you, gaze drifting all over your body and how ready you were to allow him to search it.

“Are you ready?”, his tone was soft as he looked down at you, waiting patiently and rubbing circles into your hips. You felt comfortable and safe with him, pushing your hips back to hear a low groan from him.

“Yes, I’m ready”, you nod and look back at him over your shoulder. He was happy to see you in all your glory again now that you were looking at him as he pushes himself into you, stretching you out deliciously. He watched as your eyes widened and the color within them darkened with lust.

“Loosen up, baby. I’m not even all the way in”, Seonghwa chuckled as you clenched around half of his length that was inside of you. You could’ve sworn that was what you normally took. How was he this big?

“Just relax, I’ve got you”, and you did as you were told, trying your best to relax your walls and allow him to stretch you the rest of the way. Your body shook in ecstasy as his tip caressed your cervix, finally all the way inside of you. You swear you can feel him in your stomach, looking down under you to see if that feeling was right. It was.

Right in your lower belly was the bulge where Seonghwa’s girth sat, waiting to destroy you as your body molds to accommodate for his size. Your legs were shaking and already threatening to close, a sight noticed by the artist.

“Hold on, princess. Hold them open for me”, you nodded as you finally began to adjust, feeling a little less overwhelmed. You felt the raw burn of a rope against your ankles and looked behind you again to see Seonghwa tying them to two cans of paint, keeping your legs widely spread for him.

“Much better”, he realized you were ready and started to move slowly in and out of you, knowing you were already overwhelmed. His hands trailed down to rest on your belly, feeling his bulge go in and out of that spot.

“Fuck, you have such a tiny cunt. I can’t wait to fill it up and see how much it swells up your tummy”, his words made you moan loudly, some tears running down your cheeks as you feel the warmth in your tummy. It was begging for you to release it, but you wanted nothing more than to have your own cum mix with Seonghwa’s inside of you. You waited.

Seonghwa gripped your hair and pulled your head back, watching your facial expressions in the reflection of a mirror across from the room. You were his good little whore. All his.

Every time the man snapped his hips against your ass, you could see paint flying off of you both in droplets onto the canvas below you. This was going to be Seonghwa’s way of having a constant reminder around that you are his.

His hand moved from your hair to your neck, squeezing the sides of it. The lack of air mixed with so much pleasure had your eyes rolling backwards, your mouth hung open as you desperately tried to hold back your orgasm.

“You’re such a good whore. Want to cum with me?”, you nodded embarrassingly quickly and he smirked sinisterly as he watched your body thrash against him. He pulled you back against his chest and thrusted up into you, planning to bury his seed as deep as he can inside of you. His arms wrapped around you to keep you still as you both came.

The warmth exploded into your body, coating your walls and cervix in white. You looked down as he pulled out and there was indeed a bump there where his cum stuck.

“Holy shit”, you wheezed once his hand was off your throat and he laughed before kissing all over your neck and shoulder. His hands occupied themselves with untying your ankles and you were thankful for it, the skin there swollen and red from the rope burn.

“Are you okay?”, Seonghwa asked softly as he looked down at the masterpiece you two had created together. Your body shape was imprinted as the background with drops everywhere of almost every color imaginable. It was gorgeous.

“Amazing”, you reassured and offered him a weak smile, wrapping your arms around him as your mixed cum leaked out of you and onto his thighs and the canvas. It just seemed to deep into the canvas too and replace the colors with what looked to be the white of the background.

“I’m definitely hanging this up in the lobby”, your hands immediately whacked his chest in protest and you shook your head.

“No you are fucking not”.

You stared gobsmacked at the sight of the painting in the lobby.

“You’re an asshole”, you huffed as you turned around to greet your soulmate. His hands wrapped around your waist and kissed you softly despite your sarcastic protests.

“I know. I’m your asshole though”, he smiled into the kiss and your heart felt off. It didn’t swell with joy like it usually did.

You opened your eyes after you pulled away and there was just dullness. No vibrant red walls. No blue sky outside. No abstract fucking painting.

Just black and white.

“What’s wrong?”, you looked at him and his own eyes looked around, trying to make sense of what was happening.

“Look away”, he gently ordered you and you nodded, turning your back to him.

“It’s back!”, he exclaimed and you excitingly turned around only to continue seeing black and white.

“Turn away”, this time he obeyed and color rushed into your world again, but it only made the world seem more broken.

“Seonghwa... it’s back. It only comes back when we see each other”, your heart broke as you realized what was happening.

Oh, fuck you universe.

“We have to choose. Color or each other”, you had heard of this happening before in an article but it was rare. Well, soulmates were rare as they were but this? This was rarer than most genetic illnesses.

“No, we can have both, baby”, he held your hands and squeezed them but you felt so empty now when you didn’t see the beautiful coffee brown that filled his eyes or the brightness of his teeth when he smiled.

“You’re an artist, Seonghwa. Your most popular works are in color now. You can’t let go of that”, you shook your head and stepped back, turning your head so you were no longer looking at him.

The sound of his familiar gasp as all the colors of life flooding his system only added to your despair. It was true.

“I love you. I’m sorry”, you left the studio before he could stop you, jogging outside to your car. You couldn’t deal with this. You wouldn’t let him give up his career for you.

“I love you too...”, he whispered as he watched you drive off, the screeching of the wheels making his body shake as tears ran down his face.

He’s realizing that without the colors, he was just the artist in love with chaos.

Without colors, maybe you don’t really love him.

Solemnly, Seonghwa turns back around and looks at the painting on the wall covered in the love you two made.

Then, he ripped it off the wall and tore it to shreds.

[pumpkinpaix]

Hello! Feel free not to answer this question if it is in any way too much, but I've been wondering about something concerning the "western" mdzs fandom. Lately, i have seen multiple pieces of fanart that use what is clearly Christian symbolism and sometimes downright iconography in depicting the characters. I'm a european fan, but it still makes me vaguely uneasy. I know that these things are rarely easy to judge. I'm definitely not qualified to do so and was wondering if you have an opinion

Hi there! thank you for your patience and for the interesting question! I’ve been thinking about this since i received this ask because it?? idk, it’s difficult to answer, but it also touches on a a few things that I find really interesting.

the short answer: it’s complicated, and I also don’t know what I feel!

the longer answer:

i think that this question is particularly difficult to answer because of how deeply christianity is tied to the western art and literary canon. so much of what is considered great european art is christian art! If you just take a quick glance at wiki’s page on european art, you can see how inextricable christianity is, and how integral christian iconography has been in the history of european art. If you study western art history, you must study christian imagery and christian canon because it’s just impossible to engage with a lot of the work in a meaningful way without it. that’s just the reality of it.

Christianity, of course, also has a strong presence in european colonial and imperialist history and has been used as a tool of oppression against many peoples and nations, including China. I would be lying if I said I had a good relationship with Christianity--I have always faced it with a deep suspicion because I think it did some very, very real damage, not just to chinese people, but to many cultures and peoples around the world, and that’s not a trauma that can be easily brushed aside or reconciled with.

here is what is also true: my maternal grandmother was devoutly christian. my aunt is devoutly christian. my uncle’s family is devoutly christian. my favorite cousin is devoutly christian. when I attended my cousin’s wedding, he had both a traditional chinese ceremony (tea-serving, bride-fetching, ABSURDLY long reception), and also a christian ceremony in a church. christianity is a really important part of his life, just as it’s important to my uncle’s family, and as it was important to my grandmother. I don’t think it’s my right or place to label them as simply victims of a colonialist past--they’re real people with real agency and choice and beliefs. I think it would be disrespectful to act otherwise.

that doesn’t negate the harm that christianity has done--but it does complicate things. is it inherently a bad thing that they’re christian, due to the political history of the religion and their heritage? that’s... not a question I’m really interested in debating. the fact remains that they are christian, that they are chinese, and that they chose their religion.

so! now here we are with mdzs, a chinese piece of media that is clearly Not christian, but is quickly gaining popularity in euroamerican spaces. people are making fanart! people are making A LOT of fanart! and art is, by nature, intertextual. a lot of the most interesting art (imo) makes deliberate use of that! for example (cyan art nerdery time let’s go), Nikolai Ge’s What is Truth?

I love this painting! it’s notable for its unusual depiction of christ: shabby, unkempt, slouched, in shadow. if you look for other paintings of this scene, christ is usually dignified, elegant, beautiful, melancholy -- there’s something very humanizing and humbling about this depiction, specifically because of the way it contrasts the standard. it’s powerful because we as the audience are expected to be familiar with the iconography of this scene, the story behind it, and its place in the christian canon.

you can make similar comments about Gentileschi’s Judith vs Caravaggio’s, or Manet’s Olympia vs Ingres’ Grande Odalisque -- all of these paintings exist in relation to one another and also to the larger canon (i’m simplifying: you can’t just compare one to another directly in isolation etc etc.) Gauguin’s Jacob Wrestling the Angel is also especially interesting because of how its portrayal of its content contrasts to its predecessors!

or! because i’m really In It now, one of my favorite paintings in the world, Joan of Arc by Bastien-Lepage:

I just!!! gosh, idk, what’s most interesting to me in this painting is the way it seems to hover between movements: the hyperrealistic, neoclassical-esque take on the figure, but the impressionistic brushstrokes of the background AAA gosh i love it so much. it’s really beautiful if you ever get a chance to see it in person at the Met. i’m putting this here both because i personally just really like it and also as an example of how intertextuality isn’t just about content, but also about visual elements.

anyways, sorry most of this is 19thc, that was what i studied the most lol.

(a final note: if you want to read about a really interesting painting that sits in the midst of just a Lot of different works, check out the wiki page on Géricault’s Raft of the Medusa, specifically under “Interpretation and Legacy”)

this is all a really long-winded way of getting to this point: if you want to make allusory fanart of mdzs with regards to western art canon, you kind of have to go out of your way to avoid christian imagery/iconography, especially when that’s the lens through which a lot of really intensely emotional art was created. many of my favorite paintings are christian: Vrubel’s Demon, Seated, Perov’s Christ in the Garden of Gethsemane, Ge’s Conscience, Judas, Bastien-Lepage’s Joan of Arc, as shown above. that’s not to say there ISN’T plenty of non-christian art -- but christian art is very prominent and impossible to ignore.

so here are a few pieces of fanwork that I’ve seen that are very clearly making allusions to christian imagery:

1. this beautiful pietà nielan by tinynarwhals on twitter

2. a lovely jiang yanli as our lady of tears by @satuwilhelmiina

3. my second gif in this set here, which I will also show below:

i’m only going to talk about mine in depth because well, i know exactly what i was thinking when I put this gif together while I can’t speak for anyone else.

first: the two lines of the song that I wanted to use for lan xichen were “baby, I’m a fighter//in the robes of a saint” because i felt that they fit him very well. of course, just the word “saint” evokes catholicism, even if it’s become so entwined in the english language that it’s taken on a secular meaning as well.

second: when I saw this scene, my immediate thought was just “PIETÀ!!” because LOOK at that composition! lan xichen’s lap! nie mingjue lying perpendicular to it! the light blue/white/silver of lan xichen in contrast to the darker robes of both nie mingjue and meng yao! not just that, but the very cool triangular structure of the image is intensely striking, and Yes, i Do love that it simultaneously ALSO evokes deposition of christ vibes. (baxia as the cross.... god..... is that not the Tightest Shit) does this make meng yao joseph of arimathea? does it make him john the evangelist? both options are equally interesting, I think when viewed in relation to his roles in the story: as a spy in qishan and as nmj’s deputy. maybe he’s both.

anyways, did I do this intentionally? yes, though a lot of it is happy accident/discovered after the fact since I’m relying on CQL to have provided the image. i wanted to draw attention to all of that by superimposing that line over that image! (to be clear: I didn’t expect it to all come through because like. that’s ridiculous. the layers you’d have to go through to get from “pretty lxc gifset” --> “if we cast nie mingjue as a christ figure, what is the interesting commentary we could do on meng yao by casting him as either joseph of arimathea or john the evangelist” are like. ok ur gonna need to work a little harder than slapping a song lyric over an image to achieve an effect like that.)

the point of this is: yes, it’s intentionally christian, yes I did this, yes I am casting these very much non-christian characters into christian roles for this specific visual work -- is this okay?

I obviously thought it was because I made it. but would I feel the same about a work that was written doing something similar? probably not. I think that would make me quite uncomfortable in most situations. but there’s something about visual art that makes it slightly different that I have trouble articulating -- something about how the visual often seeks to illustrate parallels or ideas, whereas writing characters as a different religion can fundamentally change who those characters are, the world they inhabit, etc. in a more... invasive?? way. that’s still not quite right, but I genuinely am not sure how to explain what i mean! I hope the general idea comes across. ><

something else to think about is like, what are pieces I find acceptable and why?

what makes the pieces above that reference christian imagery different than this stunning nieyao piece by @cyandemise after klimt’s kiss? (warnings for like, dead bodies and vague body horror) like i ADORE this piece (PLEASE click for fullview it’s worth it for the quality). it’s incredibly beautiful and evocative and very obviously references a piece of european art. I have no problem with it. why? because it isn’t explicitly christian? it’s still deeply entrenched in western canon. klimt certainly made other pieces that were explicit christian references.

another piece I’d like to invite you all to consider is this incredible naruto fanart of sakura and ino beheading sasuke after caravaggio’s judith. (warnings for beheading, blood, etc. you know.) i also adore this piece! i think it’s very good both technically and conceptually. the reference that it makes has a real power when viewed in relation to the roles of the characters in their original story -- seeing the women that sasuke fucked over and treated so disrespectfully collaborating in his demise Says Something. this is also!! an explicitly christian reference made with non-christian japanese characters. is this okay? does it evoke the same discomfort as seeing mdzs characters being drawn with christian iconography? why or why not?

the point is, I don’t think there’s a neat answer, but I do think there are a lot of interesting issues surrounding cultural erasure/hegemony that are raised by this question. i don’t think there are easy resolutions to any of them either, but I think that it’s a good opportunity to reexamine our own discomfort and try and see where it comes from. all emotions are valid but not all are justified etc. so I try to ask, is it fair? do i apply my criticisms and standards equally? why or why not? does it do real harm, or do i just not like it? what makes one work okay and another not?

i’ve felt that there’s a real danger with the kind of like, deep moral scrutiny of recent years in quashing interesting work in the name of fear. this morality tends to be expressed in black and white, good and bad dichotomies that i really do think stymies meaningful conversation and progress. you’ll often see angry takes that boil down to things like, “POC good, queer people good, white people bad, christianity bad” etc. without a serious critical examination of the actual issues at hand. I feel that these are extraordinarily harmful simplifications that can lead to an increased insularity that isn’t necessarily good for anyone. there’s a fine line between asking people to stay in their lane and cultural gatekeeping sometimes, and I think that it’s something we should be mindful of when we’re engaging in conversations about cultural erasure, appropriation etc.

PERHAPS IT IS OBVIOUS that I have no idea where that line falls LMAO since after all that rambling I have given you basically nothing. but! I hope that you found it interesting at least, and that it gives you a bit more material to think on while you figure out where you stand ahaha.

was this just an excuse to show off cool (fan)art i like? maybe ¯\_(ツ)_/¯

(ko-fi)