#that's also why i use a black background so often it's to hide my sketch

[shartfinz]

I am so lazy with art I only like shading skin and solid colored shirts then I want to be done LMAO

[bonecaffeine]

WOWIEEE— Welcome to Touchstarved, new comer! Now all we gotta do is… wait till 2025 🥲 Buuut, in the mean time.. Could I ask for a Romantic matchup please and thank you?

She/Her though I wouldn’t mind They or Him. I don’t have a set nickname for myself, but I do for others like most of which are; darling, love, lovely.. real old timey nicknames too. I’m a shorty and with plush hips, a little on the tanner side with black pixie-cut hair and doe eyes to match.

I really like how.. deceivingly pure I look, i radiate ‘innocent, had her life together’ vibes but ask one of my buddies and they’d say that I’m one devil in disguise. Forever dubbed the “founder of freakyland” I’m mischievous and I tend to not take things too seriously, but my personality tends to switch to suit the situation. Sometimes I can be very mellow other times I’ll get a bad case of the zoomies and they’d have to tie me to a harness so I wouldn’t get run over by a car. I like anything artsy and sporty, currently doing both archery and badminton (I enjoy cricket too, but there’s not many people to play with)— I tend to stick with just a sketch and line art, but hand me a pentablet and I’ll start cooking some good art. I listen to music almost religiously, I also like writing but I hit a months-long writers block after writing nonstop for days. Oooh, and scrapbooking too, anything scrap, and I’ll fashion it as a nice looking page in my book.

I consider myself to be a little.. too empathetic, where, if I knew what someone is going though, I would tolerate their bad actions towards me.. on the other hand, try doing taht with my mates and there will be hell to pay. I’m the go-to-guy for when you’re not feeling up to talk to the cashier.

I have a really bad habit of picking on my hands, nails and the skin around it especially. I always plan to wake up early, but I keep sleeping in :(( My attention span isn’t all that great either. I really dislike someone who’s overly mean, and doesn’t know when to quit or how to read the room, one of my Icks is someone who will mansplain the simplest of things to me (istg) I swear one time someone explained to me waht a sponge was used for.

I’ve also noticed that when situations turn dire I’m able to think on my feet and mediate the problem, either that or.. I’ll successfully blend in the background like a chameleon. Oof thsi is.. lengthy, I’m sorry if this is too much! Haha 😅, thank you, you can skip this if you want!

Thank you for the welcome! And it's not too long at all so don't sweat about it^_^

☆ romantic matchup

☆ tw - slight injury? It's nothing bad though I promise

...

I match you with Kuras!!

One of the reasons why I decided to match you with Kuras is because you both have this pure and innocent vibe surrounding you. It's like a mask you use to hide the more twisted aspects of your personalities and it makes Kuras very happy to find someone like him. This makes you and Kuras such a power couple!! Kuras definetly likes that your looks are slightly deceiving, you are just so interesting to observe and be close to. He appreciates all of your quirks, even if it involves sadness and angst. Kuras understands. He feels melancholical often too. If it helps, he'll let you braid or comb through his long brown hair.

Kuras has lived for a long long time and has harbored an appreciaton for art so he'd love to see yours! Kuras most likely isn't a very athletic person though, but pester him enough and he'll (begrudgingly) play somesort of sport with you:p

As for your passion for music, Kuras will be interested in what kind of music you'll listen to. And when you're not around he'll play your favorites in his office when he's alone and needs to fill out boring papers.

You don't need to worry much about your habit of picking the skin around your nails around Kuras. He's a doctor and has seen much, much worse. The guy definetly won't ignore it though - he'll spread some ointment as well as wrap bandages or put bandaids around your fingers, and if your habit gets to the point of it being a health hazard Kuras will give you a short and lighthearted lecture about keeping your hands safe and health in check.

If you have trouble standing up for yourself Kuras got your back! He's an immortal being who doesn't care what most people say or think about him and has no fear of being disliked. So with an eerily calm attitude he'll confront those who dare to hurt you in some way, making them not even look you in the eye the next time you cross paths them!

Kuras finds your empathy interesting though. As much as he is a doctor he finds himself lacking that kind of personality trait, so your empathy definetly teaches Kuras a thing or two. He deeply appreciates your kind heart, making Kuras want to get to know your inner world better and finding out why you are the way you are. He admires your problem solving skills too. Maybe he'll give you a compliment or two about your smarts. That's why he'll never mansplain to you, he knows you are a wise person and will refrain from pointing out the obvious. Additionally, Kuras usually never needs help or advice but in the rare case when he does... he'll always come to you first. He likes the way you think!

Since you are so short and Kuras is tall as hell the height gap makes for good cuddling sessions! Kuras is sooo comfortable to wrap your arms around and in turn you get completely engulfed by his warm embrace. Kuras also finds your dark hair to be pretty and often strokes your short locks with the occasional kiss on top of your head.

On the days he's feeling extra mischevious and you're by his side in his doctors office, he'll use the papers in his hand (like the ones in the picture) and prop your chin up to give you a quick peck on the lips! He's usually not a very physically affectionate man and prefers quality time among all else, but he tries to suit all of your emotional needs!

As for the old-fashioned nicknames... it'll take a lot for Kuras to refer to you that way. It's not a sign that he doesn't love you. He does, it's just that most of the time he likes to call you by your name. But once he warms up enough to your company and lets some of his tough walls down he'll call you "dear" or "darling"^^.

...

Hope you likes this one anon! Sorry if I got too overboard with the physical affection part^^"

[bonny-kookoo]

Carrots and Whiskers (JJK x Reader) 💜🔞🐾

🥕 Pairing: Rabbit!Jungkook x Wolf!Reader

🥕 Genre: Hybrid AU, fluff, smut because why not amirite-

🥕 Warnings: stereotyping, mild mentions of past bullying, fluff, oh god they’re so cute, Dom!Jungkook despite being technically food for Sub!Reader, Dirty talk, it’s sweet though he ain’t calling his baby a hoe don’t worry, unprotected sex because in this hybrid universe they’re unable to conceive due to their different species, please keep that in mind thank you, sweet sweet lovemaking, aftercare, buff boi JK, Big dick JK but what’s new I guess, yeah I’m done now

🥕 Summary: He’s the prey and she’s the predator. So why does she feel like the roles are reversed?

This is a oneshot! If you have any ideas for future content in this universe, feel free to send in asks or requests!

A reputation could easily define your entire life it it was bad enough.

Both sides knew this; Jeon Jungkook, being depicted as the cowardly prey hybrid he was, and Y/N, the bad bad wolf with always malicious intentions. However, none of these depictions were actually true.

Jeon Jungkook was an actually pretty rough and brave young man, never really backing down from a challenge, uncaring on who was in front of him. He got into trouble often as a kid, as a teenager, and now as a young adult.

Y/N was soft spoken, a caring yet quiet hybrid who liked to stay hidden, the spotlight being more of a fear than a goal for her. She loved the simple things in life, liked to be by herself or surrounded by people she trusted and loved.

And she also got a major crush on the bunny in her art and music class.

It was quite cliche really, yet it also wasn't- it was as if she was stuck in a bad joke, never to make it to the punchline. She knew for a fact that he probably didn't even knew who she was, and the worst part about it was that she couldn't even blame him. She loved to not be seen, after all.

"Uhm, excuse me?" Said the voice, forcefully hitting her as she looked up, her own eyes meeting the big brown orbs of-

wait.

"I eh, we're supposed to choose partners for this project, and I know for a fact that you can draw so eh, wanna be partners?" He asked, and she simply stared. Was he- talking to her? "I mean, Its okay if you don't want to-" He started, the squirrel hybrid girl behind him already perking up at her chance, making her swallow a bit.

"N-no, I uhm.. I'd like that." She squeezed out, voice quiet, but he thankfully still heard her. He smiled, brightly and so awfully cliche as his bunny-like teeth showed, sitting down next to her as he pulled out his sketches. "So uh, what did you have in mind.?" She quietly asked, and he talked away, as if he'd always known her.

"Well since we weren't given much other than the theme and colors, I made some small sketches. You know, I get Ideas that are pretty neat sometimes but then I forget them easily, so I have to draw or write them down right away, otherwise I'll wanna bite my own ass later on." He rambled on, gently moving the rough sketches towards her, his eyes watching her as she looked at them, carefully studying his lines.

"This- this one would fit, I think.." She mumbled, tapping on one of his more detailed drawings. He grinned again, nodding, seemingly in agreement. He attempted to say something as the bell rang, students around them both scrambling up to get out as soon as possible, either to catch a bus or to drive home on their bikes.

"Hey do you-" He stumbled, his foot catching on a stray chair as he almost fell. "Do you wanna meet up on the weekend? That way we can finish faster, you know, time to sleep in class." He said, and she simply nodded, until he held his hand out. Her head tilted to the side, ears flopping a bit as he chuckled, mumbling. "cute. Your phone, so I can give you my number?" He explained, and she blushed, stepping back a bit as she placed her bag down on the table next to her, pulling out her phone, charms on the device dangling, making him smile. She really was adorable. "Alright." He said as he took it after she'd opened the phone app, his fingers typing away, before he gave it back to her. "Do you take the bus home?" He asked, and she nodded. "Oh really? I thought the pink bike outside was yours actually." He chatted away as she walked next to him, now a bit shy.

"I actually.. well, I can't, you know, ride a bike, so.." She mumbled, and he laughed for a moment, until he went quiet, sensing that she was serious.

"I eh, I could you know, teach you, if you want?" He asked as he unlocked his own bike. "I mean, not now but like, this weekend?" He asked, and she looked a bit hesitant. "I mean, you don't have to. But I promise I won't let you get hurt." It seemed odd maybe, for a prey hybrid to say that to a predator, but for her, it seemed like the most cheesy and romantic thing she'd ever heard. So she smiled, and nodded. "I uhm.. I think your bus left-" He pointed out, making her ears droop as she watched the vehicle drive off without her. "I can bring you home. It's kind of my fault you missed it, after all." He said, scratching the back of his neck as he suddenly rumbled in his backpack, pulling out a zip hoodie, before folding it, and placing it on the bag of his bike. "My'lady." He offered, and she giggled, making his ears flinch in excitement.

She'd been unaware of him for long enough, and after a talk with his fellow friend Taehyung, he'd decided to finally act on his interest in her. Even though he did get some odd looks from his classmate Jimin, he didn't care about what she was- he cared more about who. Her drawings were always so detailed in a way that would show exactly what she'd though while creating each line, something he always found remarkable. She also had a talent for photography, a hobby he had for himself as well.

"Hold on tight okay?" He said, and she nodded, her arms moving around his waist, redness creeping onto her cheeks as she felt his toned body underneath his thin shirt and loose jean jacket. She held a bit tighter as he finally pushed the bike forward, paddling at a decent pace that made her hair flow a bit with the wind. She couldn't help but enjoy the moment; the way his smell calmed her, the scenery around her, and the fact that it seemed like everything was finally working out for her.

"I'm gonna let go now and you'll just-" He started, but she suddenly grew anxious, her wide eyes immediately finding his.

"no no don't let go I'm gonna fall-" She scrambled out, scared as he simply laughed, one hand on her back as he kept the other on the bike for now.

"I promised, didnt I?" He hummed into her ear, and she blushed at the gentle tone of his voice. He was everything she never thought a prey hybrid would be; he was cunning, brave, and confident in himself. He wasn't after attention at all, simply trying to live his life yet he pulled everyones gaze on himself wherever he went simply by nature. His ears seemed too soft to be legal in her opinion, black and white tuft of fur that was his tail seemingly completely out of place; the rest of his body was toned. It showed that he knew how to take care of himself, it underlined the way he held himself wherever he went.

He was the complete opposite of her it seemed.

She liked to hide in oversized clothing, hybrid features the only thing really giving away that she wasn't just a mouse in disguise.

To him however, it was an entirely different story.

She was so sweet, always trying to help, and always trying to not be a burden. She had so much talent, a unique way of seeing the world, and a gentle way of always looking out for others. It also didn't ease his crush on her that she was absolutely beautiful in his eyes; shorter in statue than him, surprisingly, but he was pretty tall for a rabbit hybrid, he had to admit. His mother had once told him about the different subspecies of wolves when she'd noticed his crush on the girl; her best friend having been a wolf hybrid as well when she'd still been in school. Apparently there were different subtypes for them; alphas, betas and omegas. He guessed that the girl on his bike was an omega, maybe, as it would explain all her characteristics.

"You're doing so great!" He said, bunny smile making her feel more confident as she noticed he only held her by her back; she was actually riding a bike. "See? You can do it!" He happily exclaimed as he helped her off, seat a bit high for her to get down herself. "Lets sit down there and exchange some sketches, yeah?" He offered, and she nodded with a smile, walking next to him as they both sat down on the grass, after Jungkook had put down a small blanket he'd taken with him. "Okay, hit me." He playfully shot her way, as she pulled out her sketchbook, simply sliding it towards him as he opened it, looking through the pages she'd opened for him. "Uah, these are great! I'd use a bit more color on these ones, but the rest is awesome!" He mumbled in thought as he proceeded to change the page, his eyes widening at a familiar pair of eyes, when two delicate hands held his wrist in place.

"Pl-Please uh, that's not for the project eh-" She stuttered, panic evident in her voice as her red face and tilted ears gave away her embarrassment. He simply stared for a moment, before his other hand simply loosened her grip on his wrist, freeing himself without much force. He slowly turned the page, revealing multiple rough sketches of..

Him.

It was him, not very detailed, but clearly visible. Small scenarios were drawn on the page, him staring out the open window of the classroom as he talked to friends, him at the sidelines of his basketball game as he'd taken a break, or him asleep on his desk during class. He studied the drawings, noticing how she'd not cared much about his clothing, or the background; even the desk or the window weren't really drawn very realistically, simply a fast sketch. What did stand out was.. well, his face. The way the sun reflected in his eyes, how his ears had been slightly damp from the slight rain outside, or the tiny things he would've never thought she'd notice about him, like the tiny beauty mark under his lower lip, the slight scar just above his cheek, or how the sides of his eyes crinkled when he laughed, nose scrunched up.

As he looked up she was looking down, hair hiding her eyes as her ears were flat against her skull, tail in her hands, which nervously fiddled with the fur. "I-" He started, before he began to open his own bag, ruffling around in it as his own ears lowered themselves while he tried to find something. "Hah!" He exclaimed in victory, hands sliding off the rubber band of his own folder which kept his messily organized sketches and finished works. He rummaged through them, before he started to lay some of them out in front of her, one by one. Slowly, her ears turned, attention on what he'd put down in front of her.

He always had a different way of drawing things, not really putting a lot of effort into the outlines or sketches themselves; but he had a way of coloring things, a unique style that made things feel almost alive. In every picture, he'd dedicated most of his effort to color the fur of her hybrid features almost perfectly- he also payed special attention to her postures in every picture. He never drew her eyes however- which she noticed. "I uhm.. I've never got the chance to see them up close, so I had a bit of trouble with them.." He explained. "I've noticed you pretty early when we shared our first classes together.. But I never really got around to talk to you. You and Namjoon-Hyung always seemed so close, I thought.." He revealed, scratching behind his own ear as he suddenly felt a bit bashful.

"You.. I mean, Joonie is a good friend but we uh.." She started, voice a bit low as she laughed a bit.

"I know, I know, he told me-" Jungkook answered, now chuckling. "Thats why I immediately took my chance when they'd announced the group project." He said. "It gave me a chance to you know, get to know you better. Get closer, you know?" He explained, and she nodded. "So uh.." He mumbled, before he smiled at her hopefully. "Wanna uh- get cake together today? Like a date?" He asked, and she nodded, making him suddenly jump up as he fist bumped the air, making a passerby elderly couple laugh. "Yes!"

"Carrot cake?" She asked, an almost teasing smile on her lips as he looked at her.

"What? Don't judge puppy!" He said, making her scoff scandalized.

"Hey, I'm a wolf, not a dog!" She explained as she stirred her milkshake with her pink straw before grabbing the spoon from her small metal plate.

"And I'm a rabbit, not a bunny. So guess we're even." He said, before his smile faded a bit, eyes stuck to the spoonful of whipped cream which made its way inside her mouth, tongue darting out to lick her lips clean before she noticed his gaze. He snapped out of it, suddenly the one growing a bit shy. "You uh.. wait, lemme just-" He mumbled, hand moving to wipe the corner of her mouth as he licked his finger clean himself, making her eyes widen before she mumbled a 'thanks' under her breath. He grinned.

"So uh-" He asked, pushing down his small cake fork to pick up a piece of cake, holding it out towards her. "open up?" He asked, and she hesitated a bit, before leaning forward a bit, lips parting. He placed the piece into her mouth, watching as she closed her lips, accepting his offering of food before she nodded her head approvingly. "See? Don't judge before you try!" He exclaimed, and she giggled at that.

He was right.

"I'm absolutely beat." He suddenly exclaimed, falling down onto the mattress laying on the ground in the corner of the new, unfurnished bedroom. The wolf hybrid sat down next to his sprawled out form, gently moving his blonde tipped hair away from his eyes. He'd dyed it months ago, his roots more than visible at this point, yet he'd simply decided to let it grow. "Come here~!" He playfully demanded, hands reaching out for her as he pulled her down with him, happily humming when she was laying on his chest. "Can you believe we're actually gonna live together from now on?" He asked, and she shook her head, moving around a bit so she straddled him, sat on his thighs as he suddenly watches her with hooded eyes, hands on her hips as his thumbs move in circles over the skin underneath her sweater- his sweater. "Hm.. I mean.." He offered, suddenly moving to sit up, changing position as she's now underneath him, his hair tickling her face slightly when he begins to kiss against her pulse. "I was about to ask if we should at least put up the bedframe, but having a mattress on the floor.." He started, hands wandering underneath the clothing of his she wore as he continued in a low voice. "..means I can't break the bed this time." He said, and she giggled at that, remembering the time their time together had been roughly interrupted by the weak frame of his old bed breaking. "Oh, my puppy thinks that's funny?" He wonders, making her grin as he kissed her deeply.

Moments like these made her almost forget the stereotypes she'd grown up with during her live- since Jungkook was nothing like the typically depicted rabbit hybrids. Because right now the roles seemed completely reversed, as he mouthed at her neck, feeling her pulse race as he continued to map out her body with just his hands, no need to watch where they were, able to seemingly paint a picture of her by touch at this point. Clothes suddenly seemed to tight, itchy, as if bitten by a mosquito. She whined as he chuckled darkly, helping her out of his sweater as he immediately grabbed her breasts, kneading them before he continued to undress her, making quick work of her shorts as he pulled down her underwear as well- her already glistening center clinging to the damp fabric of her underwear as she squirmed, making him humm in appreciation. He pulled his own shirt over his head as well, revealing his body to her as the sun outside painted glowing stripes onto it, the blinds drawing patterns on her skin as well. He finally freed himself from the confines of his own underwear as well, standing proud and ready as she became restless.

"Hm, puppy wants to be filled up yeah?" He asked with a teasing undertone, proudly making use of the privilege to be able to call her that- since she hated it when others did it. It was the same the other way around however; typically, being called a 'bunny' was an absolute insult to him, but for some reason it seemed like a cute nickname coming from her. Maybe he was just whipped. Or maybe she was just privileged as well.

He entered her slowly as he sighed alongside her, not wasting any time as he fell into rhythm, hips thrusting forwards as her hands reached for his, intertwining their fingers as he felt his soul warm up at the gesture. He felt so loved, so cherished, it made him fear for his heart, as he swore it stopped every time he was close to her like this. He felt complete, like he'd found his soulmate, his other half- it didn't matter to him what she was. Sure, his parents were a bit dissapointed since they couldn't have kids naturally because of this, but they both could always adopt in the future. Thinking about it made his heart swell as he thought about her, caring for their kids, making this small apartment into a family home one day. Maybe it was instinct, but he'd already been driven nuts by the way she'd helped him choose furniture and wallpaper for the small living space they'd be sharing; the simple fact that she wanted to make their apartment into a home feeding his inner instincts to build a home to keep her safe in.

He felt her legs shake a bit as he shifted a bit, making her whine as he suddenly picked up his pace, sweat already slowly beginning to coat his skin as he didn't seem to notice how the sound of skin against skin still echoed in the almost empty room since it lacked furniture- but it didn't matter for now anyways. They'd both fill it with things and memories of the both of them, and he couldn't wait for it. He huffed a bit as he moved, leaning down a bit to rest his forehead against her neck as she bared it for him, a natural instinct of hers to submit to him even if he was of another species with no need of such gestures. He'd adapted to it however, gently biting the skin as he felt her shiver underneath him, a sign that she was getting close. "Hm my baby wanna cum?" He asked, gently beginning to tease her as she nodded, eyes closed in bliss. "You want a knot huh?" He asked, and she shook her head no, as he chuckled. He'd felt a bit insecure the first few times around as he knew how things worked for canine hybrids, worried that he maybe couldn't give her what she wanted or needed, yet she'd always reassured him. Now it was more like a teasing thing for him, and a way to tickle a praise out of her- a way of reminding himself that she loved him just as much as she did her. "No? You don't?" She shook her head again, her fingers holding his hands tighter. "What do you want then, huh?" He asked with a grin as she whined.

"You- you, only want ngh.. only need Kookie-!" She pressed out, and he hummed approvingly, his thrusts beginning to grow sloppy as he neared his end.

"That's right, only me, only mine, yeah?" He asked, and she nodded, suddenly opening mouth as her head buried itself into the mattress below her, clenching around him as he groaned out, burying himself deep inside her as he spilled. "Thats it, take it like a puppy- good girl!" He praised, making her whine as he leaned his body down, kissing her neck, her throat, and then her lips as they both calmed down from their highs, breathing slowly growing more and more even as he moved a bit to grab a box as he slid it towards him, rummaging through it before he took out a roll of kitchen towels, grabbing a few as he slipped out of her, carefully catching his release and her own juices as to not make a mess. He had a gentle smile on his face as he carefully cleaned her up before he stood, walking towards another box where he pulled out a large pillow and a few blankets, instincts taking over as he began to cover her now rapidly cooling body in soft fabrics before cuddling up next to her, pulling another blanket over his own form as he made sure his partner was comfortable. She slipped out of her makeshift blanket burrito to invite him in, making him grin his signature bunny smile as he held her close, skin on skin as he closed his eyes, the only light in the room the streetlamps outside.

This already felt like home.

[sorenskyhigh]

What Pet I Think They'd Have and Why: Karasuno Edition

Daichi Sawamura

Of course he'd have a police dog

He's a cop and if he'd have any pet he'd have a buddy to help him bust criminals and fight crime

But I don't think Daichi would have a "normal" dog breed like a German Shepherd, Malinois, or Akita

I feel like Daichi would have a Rottweiler not bc they are my favorite dog breed

But Rottweilers used to be very prevalent in many police forces around the world until German Shepard and Malinois became more common

Also Rottweilers gained a harsh reputation for being aggressive bc they were trained by drug lords and criminals and were used to in fighting

Rottweilers are very muscular, sturdy, and hard working dogs

If trained right and with proper love and care these dogs are GREAT and I mean GREAT companions

They are stubborn and can be territorial with strangers, but, they are very loving towards familiars and family

They are a kind of one or two people fits them kind of dog

They also need constant stimulus as they were breed to be very hardworking dogs

Rottweilers used to pull sleds full of butchered meat bc they were so strong and the original breed was much bigger than the one we know today

They also herded large livestock through the alps and Roman region and are known to be fearless

They are also one of the oldest dog breeds

These dogs became popular Police dogs during the World Wars

Bc they were being used so much their guardian qualities were more showcased so more and more people wanted one to help keep and eye on their children

Since they are herding dogs they are good around children and can keep them in a yard if they are taught the parameters

Rottweilers despite their size generally don't bark a lot either, they are very sneaky when approaching a possible threat and will ppun e from behind

This is why I think Daichi would have one to be by his side

I feel like Daichi would do a lot of research into a good companion and finding a good breeder to find one after deciding

He'd get one as a puppy and personally see to it's training, working with a pro the whole time

His dog would also be a great family protector when he's home with his spouse and possible children, if he ends up having any

Koushi Sugawara

I feel like Koushi would be that really awesome teacher that has a really sweet and sociable pet that he brings in for the kids a lot

I feel Koushi would want soemthing small and cute so a rabbit of some sort would suit him well

Rabbits can be very loving with a small family most of the time or sometimes only one person

Rabbits are prey animals so some breeds wouldn't do well in a loud room full of young children

So what specific rabbit breed would suit his job?

So I chose the Harlequin Rabbit for Koushi

Harlequin rabbits are very social and loving towards owners and strangers alike

They also are known to be very silly, playful and very intelligent

They come in two colour types: Japanese and Magpie

The picture above is an example of Japanese while a Magpie can be colored in just about any other colour other than black nd orange like lilac, white, chocolate, blue and/or black

I feel like this specific type of rabbit would suit him so well as it would be comfortable around all those kids

Be very social and would be less likely to nip them

And it would be energetic enough to keep up with the kids

Koushi wouldn't just want a pet for his classroom though, he'd want a cuddle buddy for at home

He'd want a companion to sit on his lap while he works on lessons

He'd also want a pet that wasn't too lazy as his life would be pretty busy

The only thing is is that rabbits are high maintenance and need very specific foods, medicines, and an experienced vet to care for them

But rabbits are cuddly little crackheads that Koushi would adore

Energetic enough to keep up with his life, but snuggly and home bodied enough to not exhaust him

Asahi Azumane

Asahi is a fashion designer and thus would spend a lot of time hunched over a sketch book making designs

In other words, he has a very home based and indoor job

So he'd need a pet that isn't energetic and obnoxious like a husky or chihuahua

So I chose the Havanese

Havanese is the national dog of Cuba

This dog may be small but they are incredibly sturdy

These dogs become attached quickly and are extremely loyal to said lone owner

Something else that is good for Asahi is these dogs do not do good alone and are willing to follow their owners to the ends of the Earth

They can be described as velcro dogs bc of how attach to the hip with their owners they are

These dogs can be lively and active but they don't need much exercise as they are smaller

Most of their daily exercise can be met in a house with some light play

Also, these dogs are extremely friendly towards strangers and can be described as good host dogs

Another plus for Asahi about this breed is they aren't particularly vocal, most are rather quiet and reserved almost

The last thing you'd want is for people to look down on you for letting your pet act spoiled by barking and nipping at people's ankles

They also love to perform for others

They like attention and are good in groups

Asahi would have to meet with a lot of new people like models and companies and whatnot so a social dog would be best

Asahi also would spend a lot of time in an office or at home and since these dogs don't need much exercise he would be able to have it sleep on his lap while he works without disturbance

I also feel like Asahi would become a bit of a hermit

Like he would contact people but he wouldn't leave his house unless he absolutely had to or wanted to (which isn't often)

Havanese are home-bodied dogs and love just chillin' out on a warm lap or on a couch cushion beside their owners

Yū Nishinoya

Now I DO NOT think Noya should have a pet until he decides to settle down somewhere

Travel can really exhaust a person so it would harm an animal tenfold

So, if you travel a lot DO NOT GET A PET IT WILL ONLY HARM THEM

But if Yū were to have a pet.............................

Noya would need a pet that can travel well, is small enough to not cost a lot, is very attached to their owners, and can eat just about anything

I thought briefly of other rodents since rodents are generally small and can eat just about any food

But raccoons, possums, and other larger rodents that are more common for pets would be too hard to get on planes and boats since you need certification to own them

Rats on the other hand don't need such certifications in most countries and fill all the other requirements

The rat he would have isn't a Dumbo rat like in the picture above, he'd have like a wild rat that he befriended and decided to take with him so it'd most like be brown

Noya would 100% fight anyone who says they hate rats

He hypes up his pet rat to no end

He calls Asahi whenever he can and tells him about all the cool stuff his rat does and sends pictures of his rat being held up to a gorgeous background of famous landmarks in other countries

Nlya always has his rat around the back of his neck and wears a hoodie, scarf, or something like that to hide him so he can join Noya in places that don't allow pets

I also chose a rat bc they are incredibly loyal and I feel like if Noya were to be really tired on a plane and pass out, he would need a pet that he wouldn't have to worry about running away

Of course he has trained his rat to do amazing tricks, you already know

Also, as I previously mentioned, rats can eat just about anything, so his constant travel wouldn't hurt his companion diet

Rats are also quiet generally and aren't overly energetic so he wouldn't have to be worried about being escorted out for having a rat under his scarf

Chikara Ennoshita

Shibas are very independent dog, let's just start with that bc Chikara would need a pet that doesn't need constant attention

With him being a personal trainer he needs a pet that can self entertain

Something else about Shibas is they can often housebreak themselves bc of how fussy and finicky they are

You can also find them cleaning themselves much like a cat

Chikara would be busy for a good bit of his time so he doesn't really have time to properly spend time to housebreak a pet

But Shibas were originally bred to hunt and flush out game like birds and rabbits and other such small animals

A fact about Shibas is they almost went extinct during WWII bc of food shortages a distemper

Distemper is a disease only animals can be affected by that attacks many different systems in their bodies

Also, Shibas are the number one most common companion dog in Japan

Something else about Shibas is that they are fairly healthy, some of the more major problems they have are glaucoma, cataracts, hip dysplasia, entropion, and luxating patella

A lot of eye conditions but are easily avoided if you bring them in for very periodic eye checks and hip examinations

So these are easy to avoid as long you keep an eye on them

Over all I think that if Chikara were to have a pet it would need to be fairly self-sufficient but also something could have a very chill and laid back relationship with

Something that doesn't need to be on his lap all the time but something he can love and nurture

Kiyoko Shimizu & Ryūnoske Tanaka

Now I know I know

Ryu would be a dog person

He'd want a big manly pet not a cat blah blah blah

Kiyoko would definitely be a cat person

She wouldn't want a purebred and would probably find a box of some kittens with Ryu on the side of the sidewalk

Now look me in the eye and lie to me by saying that Ryu would now start crying immediately upon seeing like four lonely little kittens in a box that need a home

Needless to say, they take them home and nurture them endlessly

But Tanaka would be the kind of guy that harness trains his cats so they can go out on walks

Kiyoko would research how to harness train them, what food would be the best, and anything else they need to take care of these four cats

Imagine seeing these two, a big muscular dude and this goddess walking four cats on harnesses down the street

I literally cannot stop thinking about Ryu and Kiyoko cuddling on the couch with all four adult and rather large cats draping themselves across the two of them

I feel like the reason Ryu would want them harness trained is bc he wouldn't be able to spend much time with them

His job as a personal trainer would keep him busy

So on his morning jogs to stay fit he'd want to take not only Kiyoko but the cats as well

I plan on making more parts to this, I hope you enjoy it 😉

@popcorntime-doodles @multifandombrainrot @kneecapstealingalien @akabxne @jiheonity @weareallhumans123 @smallmangi @canadian-crow @just-jellyfish @immiamarais @i-need-coffee-now-pls @foreveryoung050 @kuroos-world @luminasapphire @silverfire6 @shadowsbutdead @ghostexhibit @simpfornishinoya @goshikisimp @anothershadeofpink @mestayanon @japoga @all-around-fandoms31 @thatfunnysprout @myyeetfelloff @itsallgonnabokayihope @g00s3 @boreateo @mirrorballmyfave @backalley-astrologer @vaniatslover @lil-mellow-bunbun @strawberrymakki @theforbiddenrealm-blog @beelziee @mehreenlol

[marksinn]

Passion Project: Inspiration

I don’t think I’m starting at the beginning with this post. Keep your eyes peeled for later posts that explain what I’m doing and why.

After a month of thinking about, sketching and painting designs, I have finally done something. Essentially, recently watching two films has pushed me into action, and a part of me is ashamed to admit it. There isn’t a word count or any typesetting to curtail my thoughts here, so strap in.

When I created this brief I figured I’d draw a million wee skateboards, colour a few of them in, then fling my favourites into Adobe illustrator and make them look good. From there I would take the 5 best up to the skatepark and ask some of the patrons there which designs stood out to them. Next, I would adapt the three front-runners and create sweet PhotoShop mockups that would show what my designs would look like as skateboards. If I had the time, inclination or money by the end of the project, I would have the design laid onto a real skateboard (I’ve been looking to buy a new one for some time) and then be proud of myself.

So I’ve drawn some wee skateboards. Then I started upscaling the designs onto the floorboards of my loft:

This was an exercise to let me see how small things need to be adapted to be blown up. Skateboards can have any level of detail that you like on them, I hadn’t considered this until I was trying to draw a semi-perfect triangle for the traffic cone, or until I was using chalk to recreate four cubes. It’s also been fun to work with different media on chipboard - I have learned that most kinds of pencil, paint, chalk and charcoal do not like being used on chipboard. Decorating paint, however, has no such issues. Thanks, Dulux!

And so, with a few of these under my belt, I decided to try some digital designs. So I jumped into Illustrator and totally ignored my sketchbook, coming up with three designs that were all inspired by the day I had just had. The top design, I’ll focus on last, for reasons that will become apparent (unless you follow me on Instagram, where you’ll already know that it’s an absolute hit, with over 19 likes already!). I was told by a guy at the skatepark that he likes decks with very basic designs, just a colour or two, nothing overly detailed. Another skater told me that he often likes the basic wood background with one small emblem or sticker just beside the wheels.

The duo-tone design felt nice, I’m usually one for over-complicating things. I definitely have an attitude of “If there’s more in it, there’s a greater chance someone will find something they like”. The first colour choice put my girlfriend in the mind of a hand-bag she had seen photographed in the arms of Carrie Fisher - it was designed to look like a Prozac pill. So I changed the colours up, and added the separating black lines and textures to give it some subtle character. I then went full meta with the Minimal design. And, if I’m being honest, I’m incredibly happy with how it looks like a wee character. Expect to see that making a comeback in the very near future. But the top design is what really got me going. 

I’ve recently been watching...

...Spider-Man: Into the Spider-Verse, and have been loving Miles Morales’ multiple hobbies of graffiti, mixing beats and saving his neighbourhood from a variety of dangers. 

I then went to the cinema to see In The Heights, telling the tale of the Latin community during a blackout in North Manhattan. I found myself wrapped up in the romance, tribulations and music of the cast, and was felt oddly proud of Lin Manuel Miranda - who wrote this as a stage-musical while he was in college, had a modicum of success with it, then went on to create Hamilton, one of the most important musicals of our time. With the success of that particular show taking the entire world by storm, he was given the opportunity to make his old, relatively only semi-popular play into a blockbuster film. You can’t help but be inspired by someone like that.

I often find towards the end of a film I’m inspired by the characters’ journeys: be that from zero to hero, from lonely to loved or from rags to riches. Then I walk out and carry on with my normal life doing normal things. And as the hero of the story’s dreams all came true in the closing minutes (sorry for the spoiler, but it’s a musical, they rarely end in despair), a thought floated across my mind:

I’m utterly sick of being inspired

Now, to my credit, I did figure out in the car home that ‘tired’ would be a far more fitting and rhythmic word to use in this sentence, but this was a mentality that I found resonated really strongly with me. I’m very good at being inspired, I think most people are. We hear stories of people starting their own business, achieving some sporting brilliance or overcoming a personal hurdle and we say “Wow, isn’t that inspiring?” or

“It really inspires you to go out and make a difference!” or

“They are such an inspirational speaker!”

Then we go off about our day, not acting on the inspiration, and, for the most part, remaining uninspired. So I decided to act. 

I did some very quick research (/acquiring of images of graffiti) in order to get the right shapes and textures to create a spray paint effect in Illustrator. I did some very quick research (/confirming the colours) of South American flags, taking the blue and red used in flags of the home nations of Miles Morales from Spider-Man and Usnavi from In The Heights. And I created the top design.

YES! I had been inspired and I had drawn a wee picture to show that - I had acted on my inspirations!

Then I looked to my left and spotted three, blank skate decks that I had bought on a whim from Re:Ply (a wonderful wee company who do a great deal of charity work supplying boards to people who need them, selling boards to people who can afford them, and for a very reasonable fee, providing unusable decks to people who want to use them for artistic purposes). I realised I hadn’t acted on my inspiration, I had just drawn a few pictures of skateboards with the eventual aim of PhotoShopping them onto other pictures of skateboards.

So I took myself...

... into the city centre with a shoddily prepared speech: “I’m looking for some cheap, small cans of spray paint. I’ve no idea what I’m doing, or if I’ll be good at it, so don’t want to invest too much into this.” Hiding behind this self-deprecating shield I barged into multiple art-, pound- and model-shops and pleaded with the staff to help a young idiot out. Amazingly, a very kind shop assistant pointed me in the direction of Fat Buddha, a clothes shop I’d always ignored as it seemed a bit to “...” for me. I don’t know what it seemed, but I knew it wasn't my kind of shop. Happy to prove me wrong, the guys in there were super helpful and they helped me buy my first cans of spray paint. 

Now I’d spent money...

... and as a skinflint, that meant I had to get use out of my purchases. I had tricked myself into being inspired. Inspiration led me to the drawing, inspiration had led me to buy decks and the paint, now inspiration had to make me spray paint.

I’ll stop yammering on now. Essentially, I had planned on creating some analogue designs then digitising them (I’m guessing I should do a post on my brief, yeah? Might just upload the PDF to save me talking more), but then I found that I was doing the complete opposite. Genuinely accidentally. I had played with a few typefaces from various websites to get fonts that represented the ideas I wanted. The top one was semi-stolen (I can’t use the word ‘inspired’ any more in this post) from the end credits of In The Heights. The larger font is something of a nod to inspirational quotes you see on Facebook or on glittery frames in B&M.

I printed those out and cut them into stencils (very impressed that my digital boards have been drawn to a workable scale, thanks Maths). And after putting down a tack-layer (GRAFFITI JARGON (I think)) I sprayed the whole lot in blue.

Next, I tried to get a little fancy. Using cardboard blockers to create straight lines I added stars* (borrowed from the Puerto Rican flag) and made the bottom stripes vaguely reminiscent of America’s Old Glory.

I peeled the lettering off, and I’d done it. I may have to explain the overtly-negative inspirational quote to people, but to me it’s a clear sign that there’s no point in just being inspired, and that’s all I wanted.

A weight I didn’t know I was carrying was lifted from my shoulders. The plan was to possibly end up with a self-designed skateboard. And now I have one.

*Yes, I know they’re crosses.

[andtheyweredeskmates]

MLB Coffee Shop AU

I found this saved in a cryptic folder on my desktop called “Weird Stuff” and I’m sure I’ve posted this before but I competely forgot about and am wondering if I should do something with it? Idk if anyone has feedback let me know, I’m always a whore for feedback

+++

Dunn Bros Coffee shop was the most relaxing environment Marinette could manage to find in her busy city. It was nestled in between the quiet back alley of a road that encased the definition of bustle, and a neighborhood that screamed snotty. But Dunn’s had a way of repelling the noise and excitement. Upon walking in there was the distinct smell of coffee and relief that hit just right so that all the kinks in Marinette’s neck seem to ease out with a sigh. She walked in, dropped her things in her seat and ordered her coffee at the counter. Dunn’s just seemed to be an unspoken gathering of fantastic human beings. Not that Marinette would really know. The most she ever spoke was to the barista when she ordered her usual although sometimes even ordering required no words. Tim always knew what she needed and that included when her eyebags indicated the necessity of a double shot. There was the occasional smile between her and the hot blonde boy who sat in the corner near the window but when she walked into Dunn’s it was because she had work to do. She didn’t come in for the company, though the quiet warmth that lingered was welcoming and enticing. When she was especially overwhelmed she’d take her headphones out and people watch to the folk music that played in the background. But that usually only happened about once a week and typically for about 10 minutes before her anxiety overtook her and she had to get back to the problem. Problem, typically taking the form of an also anxiety-stricken boss.

Marinette loved her job. Truly. She was constantly surrounded by beauty and fabric and sketch pads and creativity. But where the creative mind took shelter, so also did the chaotic mind. Every day she was met with impossible dead lines and over the top, dramatic, break downs and every day Marinette met the dead line and endured the responsibility of comforting the most ridiculous of people. Most of her work was done to satisfy the mainstream and Marinette took comfort that there were plenty of people wearing what she designed. But her true passion lay in creating something new and unseen. Her boss called it an “adorable hobby” but prompted her to spend her time researching what was being demanded.

Dunn’s seemed to accept that she had deadlines and anxiety and crazy people in her life and just let her be. She loved that about Dunn’s. So sitting her usual corner booth with coffee overpowering her nose and music filling her ears, Marinette sat content and continued her work. She did all the paperwork, matched all the right designs, and even whipped out her sewing kit to fix a stitch on a blouse that had been bothering her all day. She found time and peace to do all the things she needed to do. She glanced around the coffee shop, her eyes drifted aimlessly to the hot blonde boy who sat in the corner near the window. She didn’t know anything about him. Just that he was hot, blonde, a boy, and that he always sat in the corner near the window. Usually alone. But not today. Today there was another blonde though she did not look as particularly kind as the hot blonde boy who sat in the corner near the window. She had an impenetrable attitude that said she deserved to be worshipped and she knew it. Sometimes Marinette wished she could carry confidence like that. She knew she was pretty and she knew other people thought so but she didn’t know how to make it work for her or how to get the right people to notice.

Marinette watched the two for a few minutes, trying to decide their dynamic. There was a certain mutual admiration. The confident blonde girl that sat in the corner near the window, touched the hot blonde boy that sat in the corner near the window often. She squeezed his hand, affectionately ran her fingers through his hair, smoothed wrinkles from his shirt almost subconsciously. Marinette wished she could see the hot blonde boy’s face. He seemed to hide it in the corner near the window. It was obvious he didn’t mind the confident blonde girl but without seeing his eyes Marinette could not determine if he enjoyed it.

With the shake of her head, Marinette snapped out of her daze. It did not matter if he enjoyed it. It did not matter who they were, what they did, or why they did it. She didn’t know them so it certainly was not her business. Marinette floated to the counter debating if she really should have another coffee. She was so used to having late nights she was unsure of what the caffeine protocol was when there was a possibility of sleep. The barista, Tim, cocked his head a little.

���Are you confused?” Marinette just chuckled nervously.

“Sorry, it’s just, I finished my work and I don’t know what to do.” Tim chuckled back.

“Well typically people relax. Or go home.” Marinette nodded.

“Home isn’t as relaxing as here.” Tim just smiled.

“Well I can understand that. I’ll make you a cup of peppermint hot chocolate. Caffeine isn’t good for sleeping.” He turned around without another word and carried out his task. Marinette didn’t dare question him. Other people knew better how to do “normal” than she did. While she waited, her eyes wandered back to the blonde pair in the corner near the window. She still couldn’t see the blonde boy’s face. She found herself wishing that the blonde girl would leave. Marinette laughed to herself.

Leave it to her to get attached to people she didn’t even know. She thought about saying hello to the boy. There was a certain comradery there. They always saw each other sitting in their respective seats and Marinette always daydreamed about him when she had the time. But Marinette wasn’t good with strangers and she especially wasn’t good with hot strangers. Alya would probably laugh if she heard what Marinette was thinking.

“Girl,” she would say. “That’s literally your job, to deal with hot strangers.” But most of the people she worked with weren’t really strangers. Most of the models she worked with were the same to the point where she kind of felt like she knew them all. And she understood it. They had impossible standards to meet and incredible pressure. They were concerned about doing their job and doing it right. It wasn’t their fault it required them to be obsessed with their image. Maybe a little too obsessed.

“One peppermint hot chocolate for Marinette.” There she was, daydreaming again. She went to grab her drink when her phone started ringing. Her boss.

“Hello?” She thanked Tim silently and picked her drink up from the counter.

“Marinette!? Where the hell are you? Your deadline was fifteen minutes ago?”

“What are you talking about Audrey?”

“The lingerie line! The one we were presenting to Gabriel Agreste next month? Don’t tell me you forgot?”

“Of course not Mrs. Bourgeois, I gave it to my assistant yesterday to send to you this morning.”

“Well, its not here!” Marinette sighed.

“I’m coming. I’ll be there in just a minute.” She hung up the phone and hurried to her corner gathering her things. Another restless night. Same shit, different day.

…

“So Adrien, did hear about the line my mother is doing for your father?” Adrien took a sip of his coffee.

“No, what is it Chloe?” That was lie but it was best to just let her talk.

“It’s a lingerie line. Mother says if I lose a few inches around the waist I might get to model one of the designs at the launch party in a few weeks. Isn’t that great?”

“Chloe you don’t need to lose a few inches around the waist. You look fine the way you are.” Chloe rolled her eyes.

“You know for someone in the industry you seem to know nothing about fashion. Women need to be at least a size zero to look good in anything. Anyone who knows anything knows that.”

“Then maybe designers should make things that actually look good on normal people.” Chloe sighed.

“You could try being at least a little bit supportive Adrien.”

“I am!” Adrien protested.

“No you’re complaining again about how unfair life is. ‘Woe is me, my father is a world famous designer and all his designs are so exclusive, the humanity’!” Chloe mocked Adrien, a hand to her forehead in fake distress.

“Now who’s not being supportive?”

“Whatever. I have to go. Try not to mope to much while I’m gone, You’ll get worry lines.” Chloe ruffled Adrien’s hair as she walked away.

Adrien sighed. He looked to the opposite corner and saw that Marinette was gone. He knew her but she didn’t seem to know him so he felt awkward saying hi. He knew that she designed for Chloe’s Mom. His father spoke highly of her. He even commissioned that lingerie line from Marinette herself. Not that he would tell Chloe that. It was obvious that she was too wrapped up in her own little world to think much of anyone outside her bubble.

Adrien checked his phone.

1 New Message.

DJ Bubbler:

Dude you have to come over, I found a black cat on my patio and I don’t know what to do with it!

Adrien laughed. Same shit, different day.

Next Chapter

[hottestthingalive]

Bluebells (1)

Chapter 1: Seeds

AO3 Link here. 

Chapter 2 here, finally!

Notes: So, to those of you who saw this post about my WIPs which mentioned this having background Roceit and Intruality in later chapters of this story?

...I accidentally became way too invested in the idea of Virgil making fun of Patton’s new boyfriend being called Prince. So you get that now. 

The name of the chapters comes from an interesting fact I learned about bluebell flowers while researching this story: they take at least five years to grow from a seed into a bulb, which they have to be before they flower. The first chapter takes place six or seven years before the events of the main story, so I found it very appropriate. This story should only be three or four chapters long, but who knows -- I have lots of ideas for these boys.

Plot: Logan encounters a strange boy in the woods. His name is Anxiety, and he's hiding in the flowers.

Relationships: budding romance analogical, hinted dukeceit, royality in later chapters, remile in later chapters, platonic DRLAMP

Tw: Cursing, faeries, mention of death, mention of kidnapping, dead parents. (If I missed anything, let me know!)

---

He didn’t understand, and it bothered him to no end. 

Logan first saw the human in May, when the sun stayed long and the moon appeared less. The flowers had started to bloom, the trees green and vibrant, with alternating days of hot sun or torrents of rain. 

The faerie quite liked May. He preferred winter, of course, being Unseelie, but some nights in the spring he could look up at the sky and see every single star, and stars fascinated him to no end. Besides, there was no one telling him to do his job in the warm months (for there was no snow or cold, blustery winds in the time of the Seelie), and without the pestering to summon winter he could be alone. Logan enjoyed his solitude.

That is, he had, until the human child had stumbled into a flowered field in the small section of the forest the Unseelie had managed to mark off for himself. 

The boy (or at least Logan guessed he was a boy; he had never been good with human age or gender. Fey just were, and though Logan had known he was male early on, many didn’t care about such things. It was such a human concept, after all) was carrying a black book in one hand, a knapsack slung over one shoulder. He sat down in the field, and suddenly he was gone, hidden in the bluebells. 

The fey squinted, trying to see the strange mortal in the flowers, but the boy had achieved almost perfect camouflage. 

Logan had never seen him before, not in the forest. Humans rarely dared tread in the woods, for fear of its elven inhabitants. This one was an anomaly, and it was positively fascinating. Especially one so young -- he appeared to be less than Logan’s own age, making him maybe seven or eight. 

This went on for some time. The strange male would appear in the field, plop down among the bluebells, and stay there for some time, while Logan watched from the branches of the trees. When he finally left, Logan would check the place where he sat, searching for a sign as to how this mortal could hide so thoroughly. 

It was on the seventh appearance of the sun that he found something strange: a piece of white parchment, with a sketch of the forest. The detail was quite good for the hand of a child, Logan had to admit, but it wasn’t the quality of the drawing that bothered him. It was the face in one of the trees, undoubtedly his own, with a line of scribbled human glyphs scrawled beside it. They took but a second to translate. 

Just come say hi. 

How had the mortal seen him? It was undoubtedly dangerous, Logan’s instincts told him. Best to abandon the area, warn his court, and allow the Seelie to deal with the small human intruding in the fey woods. Nevermind that the spring and summer fey were notoriously thoughtless, and might kidnap the child. Nevermind that they would likely forget that humans did not live as long as fey, despite (in their early years, at least) growing at the same rate. Nevermind that, eventually, after often forgetting to provide food or care for their pet human, they would throw him out for aging, or keep him till he died. 

No, Logan was to disregard all of that. 

The next day, Logan found himself creeping through the field, inching his way towards the bluebell patch. The faerie found his pride in his magic: he was quite good at it, and so he expertly used the flora to mask his presence. There was no possible way he could be noticed. 

“Hi,” the boy said, looking up and straight into Logan’s eyes. The human’s own irises were green, a deeper green than he would normally expect from a mortal, the color of grass and oak leaves. “Finally! I thought you would never talk to me.”

Well. That wasn’t right. 

“How did you spot me?” he demanded, dumbfounded. He found himself adjusting his black shirt subconsciously, in a state of mild shock. 

“It’s a secret,” the child grinned. “What’s your name?”

How rude, Logan thought.

I shall never speak to him again, the rational part of his brain decided. He probably has magic, and is a danger to me and all others of my kind.

But he’s fascinating, said the uncontrollable, irrational, annoying part of his brain that was always championing silly matters like friendship and personal interests over actually doing his duty, which would logically be to report this at once. And I do occasionally get lonely…

“You may call me Logic,” he heard, realizing a second late that the words had come from his own mouth. “Which is an alias, of course, but it is the only name you shall get.” Logan had gone by the name for years, choosing it just as every other child did, in this world where true names had power. 

“I figured,” the mortal smiled, with his green eyes crinkled and the absence of one of his front teeth distinct. “I’m Anxiety.”

“Why choose ‘Anxiety’?” Logan asks, years later. He receives that same smile, although the adult tooth has long since grown in. 

“Why’d you choose Logic?” the male in front of him asks in turn, and Logan responds by blinking. 

“I don’t believe I know,” he replies. 

“Exactly,” his compatriot shrugs. “It just felt right.” 

“Are you a witch?” he queried weeks later, sitting cross-legged besides Anxiety and holding a book in his hands. 

“A witch?” Anxiety repeated, looking up from his sketchbook. 

“Bluebells are sometimes called harebells, especially in Scotland,” he said, “because witches are supposed to turn into rabbits to hide in the flowers. It is almost impossible to spot you without knowing if you are here; maybe you’re a witch.”

“Last I checked, I can’t turn into a rabbit,” the boy laughed. “Maybe I summoned you, though, by ringing the bluebells.”

“They are not literal bells, Anxiety.”

“My dad used to tell me that if you rang bluebells, faeries would come,” he shrugged. “But if a human hears a bluebell ring, that means someone dear to them will die.”

“You humans have such morbid myths,” he told his mortal companion, looking at the flowers. “A bluebell cannot make a sound, anyways, so if one hears something it would be purely coincidental.” 

“It’s fun to think about though,” said the human beside him, and Logan looked over at Anxiety, who was sprawled on the grass, staring at the clouds in the blue sky. “Hey, that one looks like a cat eating pasta out of a bucket.”

He looked at the cloud in question, and had to admit it did appear so, as odd the image was. “Why do you humans engage in these flights of fantasy?” Logan asked, despite himself. 

“Coping mechanism, probably,” he replied, with the air of a child that, despite their age, knows enough about the world to call themself Anxiety. “Don’t you?”

“The Seelie, perhaps,” Logan sniffed, “but my court is far more realistic in our views than those sparkly fools.”

“Fair enough,” laughed the mortal. 

Logan soon found himself spending the spring and summer with the boy called Anxiety, sitting in the field. Anxiety brought him books written by humans when Logan got bored of fey texts, and in turn, the faerie deigned to ‘show off’ a bit, demonstrating his magic one day by summoning shadows and a storm. He couldn’t deny the fact that he had been quite happy to see Anxiety wasn’t scared at all, instead laughing as the rain fell around them and Logan scrambled to save their things because “We must save the books, Anxiety!” Once everything was stashed in a hollow tree, however, he managed to get a good look at the boy he had started to think of as a friend, and a laugh was shocked out of him. Anxiety’s bangs were plastered to his face, covering his eyes. 

“You look as though a mop has adhered itself to your skull,” Logan informed him, unable to hide his smile. 

“What’s that weird thing you’re doing with your face? Are you okay?” Anxiety asked, sarcasm negated by his own grin. Logan rolled his eyes. He knew he did not smile often, but still -- those levels of cheek were unwarranted. 

He learned Anxiety was ten, older than he would have guessed, and only a month younger than Logan himself. That he loved poetry and sewing and art but didn’t think he was really good at any of them, and would be mocked for these interests. That his parents had died when he was quite young, and he now lived with his elderly grandmother, who let him run off anywhere as long as he was in his bed the next morning. She had homeschooled him for his early years, and would only send him to an official establishment next fall, which told Logan why Anxiety wasn’t with his fellow human children in their brick school during the spring. It also explained why he’d been allowed to enter the fey woods at all, what with the healthy fear the locals had developed of the place. 

In turn, ‘Logic’ had revealed his love for the stars, (which led to Anxiety sneaking out one night to stargaze with him in the bluebell field), how he’d kept a lizard as a pet one summer, but released it at the end because a cold-blooded creature likely wouldn’t survive the winter months, and how he reported directly to the Unseelie ruler, because all fey had a job, young or old. “It’s just the way it is,” he explained. “I have responsibilities to my court, as do all fey children.”

“Bit like child labour, though,” Anxiety pointed out. 

“For humans, maybe,” he conceded, “but we mentally develop much faster.”

“But you live longer, so shouldn’t you get to embrace your childhood before your infinite adulthood?” reasoned the other, watching the ladybug that was clinging to his sleeve. 

“Not infinite,” Logan replied, and Anxiety raised his head in interest. “We live a very long time, to be sure, but all fey die eventually. When we run out of magic, we age and perish.” 

His friend considered that -- and Logan considered the human boy his friend, now. That notion had snuck up on him, it seemed, surreptitiously changing his label of ‘acquaintance’ to one of friendship. 

He didn’t really mind.

Fall came in colored leaves and bursts of chilly wind, of flowers wilting and apples ripening in the trees. Logan attended the passing of the seasons, or the transfer of control, from the Seelie Court to that of the Unseelie at the equinox. It was in the deepest part of the forest, the part that joined the realm of the fey to the human world. 

Logan wasn’t entirely happy about their regained dominion. He should have been, he knew: logic dictated it! With winter, his powers increased, and he gained structure and work he loved. Why would he not be glad?

Well, remarked the treacherous little voice in his head, we can’t spend time with Anxiety in the winter, now can we? 

It was true, he mused as the crown of the fey on the podium shed its vibrant flowers and its green leaves turned red, orange, yellow, and brown. He’d be very busy, for one. Talyn, leader of the Unseelie, had promised him greater responsibility this year. And besides…

The woods were dangerous enough when the Seelie ruled. But Logan’s court had a tendency to be vicious, and they did not attempt to hide their darkness like their flowery counterparts. 

Were Anxiety to be discovered in faerie woods in winter… 

He didn’t want to think about it. 

“Logic!” called a familiar voice, and he turned to see two identical faces waving to him. 

“Prince, Duke,” he nodded. “I trust you are well?”

“Oh, Lolo, don’t be so formal with us,” Prince grinned, wrapping an arm around his shoulders. “We’re friends, after all!”

“Or are we making you nervous?” smirked Duke. “No, something else is! You’ve got a secret, don’tcha?”

Logan’s lips thinned. He’d forgotten how alarmingly perceptive the Unseelie half of the brothers could be.

Prince and Duke were oddities among the fey, the children of parents from both courts. Prince was Seelie, Duke Unseelie, but they had remained close even when the courts did their best to seperate them. Now, they had achieved a sort of notoriety. Joan, leader of the Seelie court, was said to be molding Prince for his own role, and Talyn had already offered for the Duke to study under them. He had rejected the offer, saying that he didn’t want the vulnerability of fey leadership, and a faerie called Deceit had been selected instead.

Secretly, Logan suspected Duke’s reservations had less to do with every faerie in both courts knowing his true name (which was a requirement for Talyn and Joan, just as it had been for all fey leaders before them) and more to do with the restrictions being trained by Talyn would put on him. He loved his chaos, after all. 

“I don’t see what my personal affairs have to do with you,” he said, rather coldly. “No offense meant, of course.”

“Oh, Logic, you break our hearts!” Prince cried dramatically, clutching his chest. “How could you say such things to your bestest and oldest friends?”

“Advice’s by far the best of my friends.”

“Oldest friends!” Duke countered.

“I have known Deceit for far longer than either of you.”

Duke colored at the name (could he be any more obvious with his little crush?) and Prince exclaimed, “Friends!”

“...Dubious,” Logan said, turning back towards the proceedings. 

“C’mon, Logie, we both know you’re bored out of your mind having to watch this mind-numbing shit,” Duke told him, grinning. He was missing three teeth. Fey aren’t supposed to lose teeth, the tiny part of his mind that hadn’t given up yet pointed out. “Let’s leave, and then you can tell us all about your little secret.”

“I will not be telling you anything,” he sighed.

But he ought to. He knew that. It was why he had been avoiding Advice lately, who had gotten a little too good at reading people after beginning his job as a healer. It was why after the meeting Logan threw himself into his work, so as not to cause any issues, any reasons for his court to keep an eye on him. It was why he began following Anxiety when the human boy left the forest each day, making sure he couldn’t be taken on his way home. 

Winter came and Logan began to change, as the power of his people’s season grew within him. His features, already pronounced, became sharper, hair longer (more wild, Anxiety said, as he attempted to braid the dark locks), ears, nails, and teeth more pointed. He changed his clothes for winter, of course, wearing a night-blue cloak lined with rabbit fur over his usual dark attire, and grudgingly trading bare feet for boots. Anxiety laughed at him a fair bit, for that (“What’s your problem with shoes?” he had cackled, as Logan sulked besides him) but after he had to switch his sweatshirts for a heavy black parka, the human joined the fey in petulant anger. 

One day, Anxiety asked why fey changed appearances in the winter, gingerly examining Logan’s sharp nails, which bore an uncanny resemblance to claws. Logan replied that they didn’t -- they changed for summer, or Unseelie did at least. His winter form was his true one; the one the human had first encountered was a disguise of sorts, a way to blend in among the Seelie, a defensive relic from when the two breeds of faerie were at war. 

He was afraid, then, looking at Anxiety, that he would flee. Unseelie were always the evil fey in human stories, not the playful tricksters but the monsters in the dark, and this human seemed to know every story, reciting them from memory to Logan as they lay in the field, watching clouds in the sky.

But Anxiety simply hummed quietly, looking up into Logan’s eyes. “Those don’t change,” he said, motioning to them. “Must be pretty easy for the Seelie to recognize, huh?”

“Why would my eyes be easy to recognize?” he asked, blinking. 

“They’re beautiful,” the human shrugged, far too casual, and returned to his study of Logan’s nails. “Hey, maybe I could paint your nails. My friend Morality’s been teaching me how.” 

(And if the tips of the faerie’s pointed ears turned red, his cheeks dusted with a similar colour, Anxiety was kind enough not to mention it.)

He knew it was dangerous, still meeting the human, but Logan still found himself entering the clearing each day, even though the bluebells had all wilted by August and the other flowers followed quickly, even as the grass turned brown. Sometimes, Logan told himself that it was because he wanted to learn from Anxiety, or because he wanted to interact with someone his age, or because he was simply ingrained in his habits. Always a new excuse. Nevermind that the information the human could teach him was nothing compared to his own vast reservoirs of knowledge, that Deceit, Prince, Advice and Duke were all his own age, and two were even of Logan’s court, that he was a faerie, and the fey did not do routines, as creatures of the wild. 

The truth was, he found a certain amount of joy in meeting with someone who seemed to understand Logan’s reluctance to conform to the standards of his court, who was kind and laughed easily and shared stories and secrets and songs without any cost. The truth was that he was just a bit selfish. 

Logan’s selfishness would come back to bite him.

It was fall on the cusp of winter when it happened, a crisp afternoon in early November, and a Wednesday. This meant that Anxiety could only come later in the day, and carted along a backpack holding papers and books and math. As far as Logan could tell, math was a game with numbers with many nuanced rules, that he rather liked and Anxiety hated.

To make sure that the human managed to reach the clearing safely, Logan had begun to meet him on the path that was Anxiety’s way through the forest, using his magic to mask the two of them from the Unseelie patrolling the woods. Anxiety found it funny (he didn’t seem to quite understand the true danger the forest posed him) but a bit irritating, so Logan grudgingly met him halfway down the path instead of at the line of trees that seperated the forest and the town. 

So he sat in the woods, that Wednesday, high up in the branches, and waited, lost in thought. It had been several months since they’d met in the beginning of May, spending time together almost every day. He had expected the human to have run away in fear by now, to have stopped coming into the forest, to have been scared off by the magic or the changing of shapes or simply by the power Logan held. But the aptly named Anxiety (he was scared of so many things, of sharks and snakes and clowns and drowning and dying and blood) wasn’t afraid of Logan at all, it seemed. 

It was nice, not being feared -- even among his own people, he was treated with a healthy amount of caution. Faeries did not trust. They found security in favors, in debts, and even family, like Prince and Duke, eyed each other with suspicion. But the human boy believed so easily, never asking for a favor or a name, giving and never asking for anything in return. It did not match with what Logan knew, of humans or of fey. 

...Anxiety was late. 

He held out for two minutes longer, before he finally stood and darted through the branches, feet finding footholds that should not have held them, moving through the air and ignoring the fact that occasionally he never touched the branches at all. Such was being a faerie. 

Later, he would think back on the moment and thank the forest he had been so lucky. If he had waited a minute longer, had decided to run along the ground instead of in the trees, if he had listened to Anxiety when he rolled his eyes the day before and said “I’ll be fine, don’t worry about me,” when Logan had told him to be careful… 

Logan found his human (sometime in the past months, the human boy had become his. When, he didn’t know, but it had happened so easily, Anxiety sliding into his life with his drawings and poetry and laughter and settling in like he had always belonged. If he believed in things like that, Logan would think it was fate.) standing frozen in the dirt path, eyes glazed and unfocused, books spread around him and backpack lying in the dirt. Unseelie had swarmed him, two of them examining the human in their midst as one -- Deceit, Logan realized in shock -- worked his magic to keep him in a docile trance. 

“Why did he come here?” another faerie asked, one Logan vaguely recognized. From his recollection, he was named Raven. The third he had never met, and seemed a fair bit older than the other two and Logan himself -- Deceit, Raven, and Logan were all young fey, Raven the oldest at maybe fourteen and Deceit almost the same age as Logan himself. This faerie, however, despite appearing to be in their early twenties, had an air of age, and he would guess the mystery individual to be in their hundreds. 

“It doesn’t matter,” the older Unseelie smiled, a grin appearing on their face. “It’s just a human boy. Kill it or take it.”

“He -- He’s our age, Lady Belladonna,” protested Deceit, his brow furrowing. “A child. Shouldn’t we just send him away?”

“Oh, not he,” the apparently female faerie snarled, reaching out to grip Anxiety’s blank face in dark nails. “Humans… humans are beasts. And they call us creatures of the dark! It has no more rights than an animal, age or not. Maturity has never affected the ways of the fey.” 

“But Lady--” Raven protested, looking as disturbed as Deceit, but he never got the chance to finish his sentence. Logan had heard enough. 

Lady Belladonna, whoever she was, had been correct. Maturity had very little to do with fey; age meant time, and a faerie scorned time, even physically. So Logan, young as he was at barely eleven winters (Logan had turned eleven just a few days ago -- Anxiety had given him some of the mechanical pencils he had liked, as well as a decorated case. He had said it was a ‘birthday gift’.), had power, power enough to reach out to the minds of the three fey and push them into sleep. 

He’d always been good at manipulating the brain -- better than even Deceit or Advice. 

The three Unseelie crumpled to the ground, eyes shutting even as they tried to resist, pushing back against his influence. The clearing soon quieted, silent but for the sound of quiet breathing and the wind in the trees.

Logan knew he had succeeded when Anxiety blinked and the haze over his eyes disappeared, Deceit’s control gone. The human gasped, stumbling backwards, and at that moment Logan finally emerged from the branches to pick up the backpack and the books, nodding in greeting.

“Logic?” Anxiety asked, sounding small, staring at the fey slumped around him. “What -- what happened? Are they…”

“Merely sleeping,” he replied, motioning to the rise and fall of Raven’s chest. “They will be alright.” His face hardens. “They deserved worse. What do you remember?”

“All of it, I think. They surprised me, and that one that looks like a snake did something -- I couldn’t move, I couldn’t talk, I couldn’t scream.” He hesitated, staring at the female faerie. “She wanted to kill me?”

“Or take you to our realm,” Logan said, straightening, Anxiety’s backpack in one hand and his books in the other. “Here. I need to make sure they don’t remember this encounter.”

The human took his belongings, watching as Logan crouched by the sleeping fey, touching his fingers to their temples. It took only a few seconds to alter their memories, to make them believe their enchanted sleep to be the result of a backfired spell by the Lady. (He takes special pleasure in placing the blame on her.)

He altered first the memories of Raven, then Belladonna, and then he reached for Deceit.

A yellow-gloved hand reached up to grasp Logan’s wrist. 

“Logic!” Anxiety exclaimed, a fearful squeak, rushing forwards, but Deceit spoke before he could aid him.

“Thank you,” the young Unseelie whispered, eyes forcing themselves open. 

“What?” Logan asked, unable to keep the shock from his voice. Deceit was one of the few faeries that could lie without repercussions, but the thanks seemed genuine. Whether he had become far better at lying than Logan had thought, or… 

“She would have murdered him,” Deceit laughed, a harsh sound. “Probably would have made me do it, a test for Talyn’s protégé. I definitely would have been able to casually murder a kid my age.” Sarcasm practically dripped from his words, before his tone softened. “So, thank you, Logic.”

“You released Anxiety from the spell, didn’t you?” he realized, blinking down at the barely-conscious faerie. “You’re going to get yourself killed, Deceit.”

“Wipe my memories,” he shrugged. “I’ll be fine. But be careful, okay? Belladonna isn’t alone in her views. There’s fey from both courts that are now advocating for violence against humans. Your boyfriend will need to be cautious.”

“He’s not my -- we aren’t -- we are far too young to be courting!” Logan protested, knowing full well his face was as bright as a rose, ears burning. Anxiety was in much the same state, although Deceit simply rolled his eyes.

“Of course you are,” the faerie sighed. “Just… keep an eye out, Logic. This forest has gotten dangerous, as of late.”

His eyes fluttered shut. A few seconds later, his breathing evened. Logan was rather impressed -- Deceit’d held out against the spell for far longer than he would have expected anyone to be able to. Luckily, the strange resistance didn’t carry over when he moved to alter his memories, and soon he stood to face Anxiety. 

“It… It would be understandable if you decided to terminate our friendship,” he finally muttered, unable to meet the human’s green eyes. “You have now seen the truth of my people. We are vicious, and killers, and-”

“And you rescued me,” said Anxiety, voice startlingly calm. “And that other faerie -- Deceit, right? -- he didn’t want to hurt me either. I don’t think you’re vicious, or a killer.”

“Anxiety, you’ll be in danger if you continue visiting me. You could lose your life!” Logan exclaimed, motioning to the fallen faeries around him for emphasis, because the stupid human didn’t understand, didn’t get that he might die or worse!

“That was always going to be true, dummy. We’re in a faerie forest. I’m a human,” Anxiety deadpanned. “C’mon.”

They walked through the woods to the clearing in silence, Logan working his magic to render them invisible to prying eyes, Anxiety staring at the dirt under his sneakers. The forest was still, for once.

The two arrived in their typical spot, standing near where they knew the bluebells would grow again in spring, hearing dead grass crinkle underneath their feet. The human set down his belongings, and hesitated, suddenly still.

“Are you alright?” Logan asked, glancing over. Anxiety was staring at the ground again, arms wrapped around himself in a sort of makeshift hug, bangs covering his eyes. 

“I… You saved my life, Logic,” the other said, voice choked, and there were glistening tears streaming down his pale cheeks. “I would have died.”

Logan had never been good at feelings. He’d be the first to admit so -- they were Prince or Advice’s department. Still, he found himself moving forwards, pulling Anxiety into a hug, ignoring the tears wetting his cloak as he did his best to replicate what he’d seen Advice do for distressed fey. 

“I don’t want to die,” he heard, whispered into his shoulder. “I don’t want to die, L.”

“I won’t let you,” promised Logan, and heard from his own mouth, before he could even think about saying it, “I’ll protect your life with mine, if it comes to that.”

Anxiety let out a laugh at that, his grip tightening. “Well, that’s not very fair. You’re not allowed to die either, okay? I’ll protect you too.”

Logan had a response on the tip of his tongue (“You’re a human, how would you preserve my lifespan in any way?”) but a searing pain through his left eye interrupted him, and nothing more than a gasp of agony escaped the faerie. They seperated, Anxiety clutching the right side of his face. 

The feeling disappeared as quickly as it had manifested, and Logan immediately looked up, searching for their attacker, and instead found the human’s previously green eyes. 

The right one was a bright, shining purple. 

Anxiety’s mouth was open wide. “Logic, your eye--” he began, before reaching into his bag and fumbling for his communicator square. (Phone, he called it. Logan did not quite understand, but avoided touching it anyways -- it appeared to be made of metal, and he would not risk contact with iron.) He turned it on, before switching to a screen that reflected both of their faces. 

Logan had only ever looked at his reflection to ensure his presentability. He knew his eyes were different from those of humans, of course; Anxiety’s had circles of green around a black center, set on a white background, but Logan did not have those divisions. Color spread across the whole surface, lacking in whites, pupil, and iris. “Your eyes look like the night sky,” Anxiety had told him once, and he supposed the human was correct -- normally, they were a dark purplish blue color, with pinpricks of pale light across the surface. Still, he hadn’t understood why Anxiety had seemed so fascinated. (“Is it accurate?” the human had questioned. “Is the placement of the stars right?” Logan had eventually flushed red as the other tried to find constellations in his eyes, Anxiety had noticed and retreated, and that had been the end of that. He’d never brought it up again.)

But now his left eye was crossed with a pattern of greenish blue, like the aurora borealis in the Unseelie realm that his parents had taken him to see when he was very small, vibrant against the indigo background.

“What happened?” Anxiety asked, staring at himself on the screen of the phone, reaching up as if to touch the purple ring, ensuring it was truly there. “How -- why -- what happened?”

“I don’t know,” Logan said slowly, staring at his newly heterochromatic eyes. 

Perhaps this is the price of befriending and saving a human, he thought to himself, meeting Anxiety’s panicked eyes with his own. Perhaps it is a curse, or a punishment from the gods. A physical marking of my shame, of forgetting to take a name, a favor, a price, as is my nature. 

“It’s okay,” Anxiety said, reaching out to take Logan’s hand and squeezing it gently. “It’s okay, L. We’ll figure it out. Besides, it looks cool as heck, right?”

“...That it does,” he nodded after a beat, returning the gesture, a wan smile stretching his lips despite the situation.

“Let’s… Let’s not worry about it for now,” suggested the human. “We’ve got better things to do, right?”

“Definitely. We had best get started on that math homework.”

Anxiety let out a laugh at that. “Ew. How about we just cloudwatch for now?”

They sat in the empty field, where their flowers would grow again come spring, and watched white fluff form in the blue sky through mismatched eyes. He glanced over at Anxiety, who smiled and reached out with his hand. The faerie took it. 

If this new coloring is a curse, it’s worth it, decided Logan, flashing a smile at his boy of the bluebells before returning his gaze to the sky. 

At first, the change took getting used to. Fey whispered Logan had made a deal with the forest, had become vain and done it cosmetically, had been cursed. Humans said much the same about Anxiety. As time passed, however, and the colors didn’t change, those inside and outside the forest learned to accept the change. No one questioned it anymore, and eventually the two learned to forget the day in the clearing, to pass it off as a spell gone wrong in Logan’s case and an eye injury in Anxiety’s.

Neither of them found an explanation for it either, but it soon became apparent they didn’t need to. They had each other.

That was what mattered.

[art-thropologist]

Portfolio of Recovery Part 3

If you’ve been following my entries, you’ll know that I recently had to go through some medical treatment. I am at a point now where I am willing to share some of the products of the art therapy that went along with that process. With each piece I’ll explain the prompt or the intention behind it and how I interpret the visual cues.

Please note that I will be talking about eating disorder behaviors, body image, and trauma. I use vague terms, but if these are triggering topics, then do not read. If you are in need of help with an ED, NEDA can get you support.

“Living Room Table” (2020). Poster-board, string, sequins, ripped magazine, yarn, tissue paper, glue, and oil pastel. Prompted.

“What is creativity?”

I usually take a while to wrap my head around prompts. But this one I went ‘I got this’ with zero hesitation. At the house I grew up in we had a low wood table in the living room. It was where we had to do any and all crafts in the house because that was a way to contain the chaos that was my sister and I. We left our marks on that table: glitter, yarn, burn marks. This is that table. This is where creativity happened.

“Untitled” (2020). Ripped magazine, glue, on canvas board. Prompted.

“Make a rip collage.”

I decided to try a different type of collage by weaving the pieces together. I think it worked.

“Shell study” (2019). Watercolor and crayon on paper. Prompted.

“Choose an object from the basket and create something from being mindful of your interaction with it.”

I chose a shell and spent 40 minutes trying to recreate the coloring on the inner lip.

“Strong Enough” (2019). Colored pencil on paper. Unprompted.

I was told by the art therapist that I should try experimenting outside of my usual style (Which you can see the first sketches of still). So I tried a more figural style. The title references the lyrics from “Eight” by Sleeping At Last; I was just a kid who grew up strong enough to pick this armor up and suddenly it fit. It resonated with me because that was what my childhood felt like. I tried to represent that with the figures surrounding the hollow form that is me in the present. Like the Timeline, the colors correspond to emotional stages. Blue is hopeful as an open sky, elementary school. Grey seeped into my chest as I start building up armor to protect myself from that hurt. Green is middle school when I started using clothing to make myself pretty. I thought that if I was pretty then the bullying and torment would stop. Given that this figure is crying, clearly that wasn’t the case. Red is anger, and I used lacrosse as a way to make myself more intimidating, tell of a target, less vulnerable. But I wasn’t confident at all, that’s why the posture is closed off, hesitant. Finally is the stage where my ED was in full control. It was the armor I was conditioned into believing would help, would make me perfect, better. But it was just protecting the trauma, not healing it.

I’m all in, arms out. I’m at your mercy now and I’m ready to begin. Show me how to lay my soul down long enough to let you IN. is another (misquoted) lyric from “Eight” and is representative of the present moment. I am deconstructing all the armors I’ve put on and get better.

“Promises” & “Reality” (2020). Oil pastel on canvas board. Prompted.

“What did your ED promise you and What did it actually give you?”

I was that girl in health class that thought ‘That would never be me’ when it came to an eating disorder. Well...I was wrong. Ana (what I call my ED) is deceptively kind. She lures you in with promises of control and exceptionalism. ‘If you can control your hunger then you are better than other people’ and other promises just like it. I thought if I was thinner that I would be prettier and it would be easier to like myself. Ana promised a brighter future, she promised fulfillment.

Ana lies. I became a ghost of myself. Frail. Weak. Breaking down. The white figure is my own body collapsing; arms thrown forward in submission, hair covering my face. I had nothing more to give other than tears and sadness. i was still alone. I was still hurting. On top of the emotional distress was physical distress. My body was, essentially, eating itself to survive. I had headaches that lasted for days, dizzy spells that left me on the floor (see the radiating red halo), a body that had one foot in the grave (which I represent with the brown-black background). 

“Shattered Glass” (2020). Tissue paper, oil pastel, and pencil on paper. Unprompted.

I often feel like I’m nothing but pieces of jagged glass. Broken. Sharp edges. There is still color and beauty in that. It’s how we make stained glass and mosaics after all. But I also carry a lot of hurt and trauma to get that way. I went with the obvious Atlas metaphor. Braids being pulled. Tears. People constantly watching. People constantly leaving, again and again. Being shunned for things out of my control. Struggles with faith. Bearing the name ‘Bitter Little Bird’. I’m learning how to lay those burdens to rest. It is a process.

“Outline Self Portrait” (2020). Colored pencil on paper. Prompted.

We were given the outline of a person and told to fill it in how we wanted about body image.

The colors are familiar by now. Purple for justice and hope. Orange for creativity. Red for anger. Blue and Green for growth. My head is always a mess of all these feelings, that’s why it looks like that. the stronger lines indicate where I feel the emotions. It’s usually a tightness or an ache.

I remember being that kid - who was small. Who wanted to run before I could crawl. That changed with the start of an education in Shame. It started with my name. I was always caught between being seen and hiding Away. Maybe it was just easier to be nothing than to be something wrong. I was just a kid who had to wear this Armor too long. So I kept these shattered pieces inside a thick skin. It can tear me up inside but, no, I wont let you In. I’ll keep these bits of broken Hopes Inside of this chaotic body. I’ll rage inside my Skull if this is the way to cope. I sill sing the songs when I am ready to be. And shine myself not for you to see. This Lux Aurora in lead lines.

“Untitled 1″ (2020). Colored pencil and pencil on paper. Unprompted.

I tried to reduce myself down to schematic pieces. Red lines to convey gestural forms, blue ribs. This was me when Ana was in control. I was blind. I was hollow. I was barely able to feel my heart beat. Most of all, I was exposed.

I added the lyrics of Words Fail from Dear Evan Hansen because they felt like they fit. “'Cause if I just believe/ Then I don't have to see what's really there/ Yes, I'd rather pretend I'm something better than these broken parts/ Pretend I'm something other than this mess that I am/ Because then no one gets to look at it/ And I don't have to look at it”

“Untitled 2″ (2020). Colored pencil and pencil on paper. Unprompted.

The pieces are a diptych. This side is recovery. The stance is open, embracing. But the back is turned; rejecting Ana. I used the same colors but attributed them to new facets. Instead of being blind I am now covered. My hair is growing again. The fundamental building blocks are still there, but I am no longer standing rigidly. I wanted to mirror Rebecca Belmore’s sister.

The poem “Ascending” is my own creation. “With arms outstretched/ Wide like wings, like a martyr/ I will fly beyond the confines of/ my Nature./ I can touch eternity with my fingertips”

Part 4 coming soon

[thenexusofsouls]

New Muse: Marina Nedivar

MARINA NEDIVAR/NEDIFAR a.k.a Marina Mills (alias), a.k.a. Ma Rina (online identity)

Type of Character & Fandom/Source Material: Canon-divergent character from the horror fantasy movie Friend Request (2016)

FC: Liesl Ahlers as Marina Nedivar

Race: Human

Age: 23

Sexual/Romantic Orientation: Asexual/Biromantic

Mother: Ada Nedifar

Occupation: Student… or nothing (homeless).

Potential Triggering Material in Threads: Triggering themes include: child harm, child sexual assault, rape, suicide, although I will not be writing them out in detail. They are present in Marina’s background and if anyone ever gains enough of her trust for her to speak about them, she will likely not go into a huge amount of detail. I will tag these triggers if I do mention them in threads. Triggering conditions include: trichotillomania (a compulsion to pull out hair… Marina pulls out her eyebrows, eyelashes, and hair on the top and back of her head); social anxiety, generalized anxiety disorder, PTSD, reactive attachment disorder (Marina assumes people will dislike/hate/reject her so she tests their patience to force what she feels is an inevitable result on her own terms to maintain control over the situation so she isn’t hurt by becoming attached to someone who then rejects her), internet addiction disorder, and obsessive personality disorder. If these get described in more detail than just a mention, I will tag them.

Negative Personality Traits: She holds grudges; she can become obsessed with people, objects, ideas, and even things like movies or books; she is easily hurt emotionally and tends to take things very personally; she can come across as strange, abrasive, blunt, or aggressive as a result of not being well socially adjusted at all

Positive Personality Traits: She can be very sweet when she wants to be and when she trusts someone; she’s very loyal; she’s incredibly creative and talented with art, both digital and hand-drawn; she has an innocent sort of quality to her when she gets genuinely happy about something or when she feels accepted by someone that is very endearing

Background: (This is a blend of canon and my own embellishments on the character and is her core verse. Other verses will be listed separately.)

Marina’s mother was a member of a cult living in a place called Moore’s Grove. It was a remote, rural, forested area with a large building in which the cult was housed. Someone burned the whole place down while Marina’s mother was pregnant. When her body was recovered, she was badly burned and had symbols carved into her belly. Doctors kept her mother alive in a vegetative state until Marina could be safely remove. She was alone in the womb for months. Despite never having seen her mother, Moore’s Grove (until she was a teenager), or many of the scenery, drawings, and other images from inside the cult’s location, Marina dreams about them as if she had been there to see them. What they intended to do with Marina and her mother after she was born is unclear, but the process appears to have resulted in Marina being born a witch. She is a black mirror witch, which basically means her powers lie in reflections, images, and in reflective surfaces that can be used as scrying mirrors. Classically this has been actual mirrors or pools of water, but Marina uses her turned-off laptop screen as her black mirror, and has been doing so since she was a young child.

She became a ward of the state and was sent to live at a school that doubled as an orphanage for many years as a child. Not knowing her parents and being a little odd personality-wise, Marina was very much alone and didn’t have friends. She was bullied by two boys who assaulted her on more than one occasion, but the teachers didn’t seem to care or believe her. Alone, sad, and angry, Marina turned to the internet, finding some solace in chat rooms and the shadier corners of the internet where darker imagery and themes abounded. This was the beginning of her obsession with fantasy, the occult, and scrying. By focusing her energy and desires while staring at her own reflection in her turned-off laptop screen, she was able to curse the two boys who had bullied her. They were stung repeatedly by wasps, so badly that their faces were unrecognizable. It was no accident. The wasps… are Marina’s protectors.

Various mythology exists about witches having familiars that either help or protect them. In Marina’s case, it’s true. Wasps are her protectors. They intimidate, chase, and even kill those she identifies as threats to her or whom she had decided to hate. Conversely, moths are her observers. They aren’t aggressive, but rather watch over ones she’s curious about, particularly those she likes. Once Marina realized she had these abilities, she began spreading her influence throughout the school, and many of the other children said she gave them nightmares.

This brings me to Marina’s other abilities… which involve her art. She draws by hand and animates her sketches on the computer. Some of them are whimsical new images, some are things she couldn’t possibly have seen from before she was born, and some are things yet to happen. If she is currently obsessing over someone, she has the ability to bring that person inside her art through dreams. They will dream about objects, animals, and locations from her drawings, and sometimes even see Marina herself. This ability can be innocuous or malicious, dependent on why she’s obsessing about the person in the first place.

It is very often in dreams and through this connection that the moth king, Talfryn, will make an appearance. Marina believes him to be a real being, attached to her but independent from her. In actuality, Talfryn is a magical construct, like a part of Marina’s magical abilities that has gained some amount of sentient in its own right. Talfryn appears a lot in Marina’s dreams, the dreams of others she’s drawing into her creations, and more rarely… in reality. If you see him, it is a sign that Marina is curious about you and essentially deciding whether or not to trust you. Talfryn is an observer, but also a judge. He is protective of Marina and makes it his business to assure that people she interacts with are not going to hurt her. 99% of the time, Talfryn appears about one foot tall, wearing a delightful little outfit and a crown upon his fuzzy moth head. Very rarely… he appears the size of a person, about six foot tall.

After Marina aged out of the school/orphanage she was living at, she was essentially on her own. That was really difficult for someone who had poor social skills, no job, and a very noticeable hair-plucking disorder. She took to wearing hoodies, even in summer, to hide as much of her disorder as she could. She was also able to attend college by applying for scholarships for disadvantaged students.

Her social media account (the one in the movie mimicked F.ace.book) is like her mental home. If one could have a room inside her brain and have it be decorated with her aesthetic, her art, and her ideas, that’s what her wall, feed, etc. looks like.

What Marina wants now is to make friends, be included and accepted, and be loved. But beware, if you cross her, she isn’t afraid to curse you…

Marvel Verse: MCU AU Marina is a mutant. That, and not the strange circumstances surrounding her birth, is the source of her powers. She is similar to Wanda Maximoff (comic version) with some of her powers in that she is able to alter natural probabilities to bring about unlikely outcomes. In short, when she curses someone by focusing her mental energy on doing so, she can increase the probability of their death in a chosen way. She can also very easily bring about good outcomes for people she likes as well. Her ability to bring her art and ideas to life (Talfryn) and to draw people into her dreams and nightmares are similar to Wanda’s abilities to alter reality and invoke nightmares in the minds of those she influences.

Potential Starter Ideas:

Really she can be met anywhere someone might sit with a laptop… on a park bench, in a cyber café, in a coffee shop or bookstore, inside a college classroom or on campus, on a bus, etc.

She could also be met while out walking, in a store, wherever.

Or your character could find her homeless on the street… sleeping, sitting, etc.

In the MCU AU, she could be noticed by another mutant, Avenger, or anyone else from the MCU, or she could be brought to live at the Avengers compound for observation. Perhaps she was noticed and it was thought that she needed counseling/training to help control her powers and her vindictive tendencies so that she doesn’t harm anyone in the future.

Fun facts: Marina loves insects and will collect them and take them outside if she finds them inside buildings… even pests like mosquitoes. She loves the combination of black and white so much that she only ever sketches in black ink on bleached paper. She has an interest in psychology and, since she is unafraid of the dead, she would love to become a forensic psychologist. Photography is also a love of hers, and taking pictures of nature and abandoned buildings often gives her ideas for her art.

[mysticsparklewings]

Behind the Screens

Oh, look, a reminder of why I don't do detailed backgrounds often! Okay, okay, this is actually an entry for projecteducate's All Mediums Contest: From Logos To Art. It sounded like a fun challenge, so I thought I'd take a stab at it. (Hopefully obviously) My primary logo choice/inspiration was the Instagram logo, largely because I had a strong visual idea for it in my mind right away. However, if you look closely there are logo inspirations hiding in there, too.  Some of them I think are more obvious, while others are more subtle. In case you'd rather try to find them on your own, I'll list them in small text so you can skip to the next paragraph and not be spoiled. Moving left to right, top to bottom: Outside the window is the Twitter bird, tweeting away; Then we have a literal FaceBook propped up against the window, and next to it a "Ko-Fi" Coffee cup; below the window we have a chair, the SnapChair, based off the SnapChat logo/ghost, which I am particularly proud of. On the right side of the art, we have a globe with some plastic bits that's inspired by the Google Chrome logo; then a PinBoard as a reference to Pinterest; and side-by-side on the table we have an Apple-apple and a Tumblr-tumbler. Fun fact: Because of that apple I now know there are in fact real apple species that have white skin, the most common among them seeming to be the "white transparent" variety. You'll notice all the logos have something to do with the internet/computers/social media, and though I did think about sneaking in a couple of other logos like Dominos or the NBC Peacock (since those logos have good visuals), I ultimately decided it was better to stick to a more cohesive theme. This is also where the title came from, as the idea is this is the reality behind the screens of a perfectly poised Instagram photo. And therein lies the further theme/message you can take away from this; Notice how the figure is holding the camera so that we can't see their face at all, like a mask. And how the other logos have crept into the rest of the scene, in a way that a lot of them you probably wouldn't notice as internet icons if it wasn't pointed out to you. Both of these are realities for a lot of people. On the internet, we put on a facade like a mask. We control the narrative of what people see of us. And our online presence and habits sneak into our lives in ways we might not notice right away. Both things happen for better or worse, and they can and do happen to anyone, regardless of who you are. To that end, I consciously tried to make the person holding the camera little androgynous, so that it could be a boy or girl, but since this is me we're talking about I'm pretty sure it leans more notably on the feminine side.  And it doesn't help that for the positioning of the hands I had to use reference photos of myself when I couldn't find quite what I was looking for online. Speaking of which; to make the art I started out with a traditional sketch of the figure and the background bits that were inspired by logos, except for the Pinboard and Kofi/coffee cup. And it's kinda funny because I wanted to base the camera design off of one of the newer instant Polaroid cameras (as that seemed the most fitting to transform into the Instagram Logo camera), and fortunately when I was taking the reference photos my phone is sized just so that I could use it as more or less a stand-in or base. This worked out even better because it meant I could just take the photos in front of a mirror instead of having to set a timer and hope I could pose correctly from a distance.   I scanned the sketches in, and then came the trickier part: That background. Especially since a lot of the concept here relies pretty heavily on it. I used a lot of reference photos I found online for this. I did have a basic, rudimentary sketch of my own that I made without any references, but I knew to get the lighting and perspective right I was going to need some actual photos to go off of, and I don't personally have a room that looks like what I had in mind for this. Based on these photos, I did end up putting the shelves over the pinboard, as opposed to putting the pinboard higher on the wall, but other than that and some slight adjusts to the perspective, my general idea for the room stayed the same. And, given my tablet situation, I gave myself a bit of break and decided not to do perfectly clean, solid linework for anything other than the human figure and the camera they're holding. The camera kinda had to have clean lines for this to work, and I thought the figure would stand out from the background better if they were done with clean lines. (And I'm pretty sure I was right about that.) For once in my life, I mostly started in the back and moved my way forward. The walls and ceilings, then the window, then the shelves and the stuff on them, then the banners over the window. And my process reminded largely the same throughout: Loosely line the object, give it a base layer of color, then go back and shade/lighten as necessary. And I was using semi-realistic colors, though I knew they were going to get largely disguised later on when I did the all-over overlay to really drive the Instagram logo inspiration home. Naturally, all the stuff on the shelves was a largely more annoying undertaking than I'd anticipated, but it wasn't quite as bad as the multitude of books I had to do for World in a Book. It's not even that drawing in a bunch of objects like that is hard, necessarily, it just takes a while to get through if you want it to look right. Anyway. Once all of that was done, I took a break to work on the figure and camera, getting the lines done and then moving on once again. Then it was the other logo bits' turn. Once I had them all lined and properly arranged/placed (as they were drawn as separate, individual items from the rest of the scene), I colored each one using the actual logo colors first, then went back to shade them, and then fiddled with some adjustments to bring the saturation down a little and make them blend a bit better with the overall tone. I would end up having to undo some of this after I added the overlay, and as otherwise with that in place some of the logo-inspired things would've either blended in too well or stood out way too much, depending on which one it was. (The camera is a bit of an exception here as instead of getting proper shading, I opted to line it only and just use my home-made gradient inside of it. Once those were taken care of, I back-tracked to color in the figure. Which went similarly to everything else, save for this time I'd use multiple layers for the shading/highlights until I was happy with it, then I merged all that onto a layer about the base color. And then, because I have one solid blue-gray base color for them, I then went back and separated the hair, skin, and shirt with their own unique colors. That was all the coloring done, so I moved on to filling all the blank "photo" spaces I'd left everywhere; the pinboard, the tumbler, even a little picture on one of the shelves. For this, I simply used my own artworks as that seemed like the fastest and easiest way. I just went through my gallery, found pieces I thought would fit properly, then copy & pasted them in and adjusted them to size. A few I did a little perspective warping on just to be thorough, but nothing too crazy. Finally, then I could move on to arguably the most important part: The overlay. Actually, aside from the overlay making the whole image look a little bit too dark, a little too saturated, that went a lot smoother than I thought it would. I just had to turn the saturation down a bit and bring the lightness up to fix that. Or, that's what I thought. I must've saved this thing 6 or 7 times thinking it was finished before spotting this, that, or the other thing (usually related to lighting or shading) that needed to be fixed. First, it was just fiddling with the overlay layer because it still seemed too dark overall, then it was tinkering with shading in various places, and then I decided to drop the ko-fi cup in there because it felt like that spot on the windowsill needed something else and I really wanted just one more logo reference. And then the bottom left corner I thought I fixed earlier now seemed too dark, so I had to un-fix/re-fix that. And of course, even after all that back-and-forth, I thought I was finally, finally done when I noticed the black checkerboard squares on the SnapChair were too dark of a black compared to the blacks/darks elsewhere in the photo, especially considering how light the area around the chair is. I'm sure I could've left it alone and it would've been okay, but my own brain wouldn't let me. So I fixed it! It's not even that noticeable of a difference, but it makes my brain feel so much better knowing it was indeed fixed. Fortunately, after that (at least for now) I stopped noticing things to tweak/fix. It's still not completely perfect, but the things I could continue playing with are at least to my satisfaction to the point I'm comfortable calling it finished. Though, honestly, it already feels like this description should be a lot longer when I think about the 3-4 days I spent working on this.    It was a lot of work, but just like I thought it would be, it was fun and I'm really happy with how it turned out. It was a real challenge as far as shading and perspective go, and obviously, for as strong of an image I had in my head when I started, it wasn't exactly a cakewalk to get it there. A lot of the lines are rough up-close, but they don't look so bad when there's so much else going on in the picture to distract from them.  Maybe I'll try the "softer" lines like this more often. I do know one thing, though, I'm going to be avoiding detailed backgrounds for a while. They always take a lot out of me. ____ Artwork (c) me, MysticSparkleWings I do not own any of the logos that inspired parts of this artwork ____ Where to find me & my artwork: My Website | Commission Info + Prices | Ko-Fi | dA Print Shop | RedBubble |   Twitter | Tumblr | Instagram

[superman86to99]

Adventures of Superman #504 (September 1993)

REIGN OF THE SUPERMEN! The three weakest Supermen team up to take on the most ridiculously overpowered one! Last issue ended with Superboy, the Man of Steel, and the long-haired Man in Black flying towards Coast City (or what used to be Coast City), and this one starts with... the same thing, because it's a long-ass trip. At least they use this time to ponder on important matters.

When they finally reach the Cyborg Superman's city-wide robo fortress, the Man in Black loots some giant guns and ammo from an alien mook. You know, just in case you forgot this comic came out in the '90s.

(Needs more pouches, though.)

While trying to hide from the 800 aliens shooting at them, the Super-Trio bump into a giant missile that's about to be launched into Metropolis. The Cyborg Superman wants to nuke the city and replace it with another giant engine, as part of his plan to turn the Earth into a massive evil spaceship (Warworld 2.0). While the Men (in Black and Steel) continue infiltrating the fortress, Superboy manages to latch on to the missile to try to stop it from reaching its destination. It's not an easy task, but after a Spider-Man #33-esque effort...

...the Kid manages to change the missile's trajectory, taking it away from Metropolis. He saved the city! And then the missile blows up anyway, right in his face. Good thing he wasn't wearing his cool jacket in these pages, because there's no way it could have survived that one. It remains to be seen if HE did.

Character-Watch:

OK, he did. I seriously feel like turning that missile is Superboy's "Spider-Man lifting the rubble" moment. He's trapped in an impossible situation and doubts himself, but then gets his shit together and pulls it off because he has no choice. It's interesting that Karl Kesel made the Kid particularly punny and vapid at the start of this issue, almost like he was daring us to be annoyed by him, only to level him up at the end. I bet a lot of Superboy haters were converted right here.

Plotline-Watch:

Superboy's Platonic Friend Tana Moon breaks down and cries on camera about Superboy's sacrifice, probably earning a juicy raise in the process.

When we get to Superboy #60 (the kickass “Hyper-Tension!” storyline), someone remind me to check my suspicion that the page with the big multiverse-crossing missile looks exactly like the page with the regular missile in this issue.

There’s a quick cameo by journalist Jack Ryder (secretly The Creeper) as a talking head on Lois Lane’s TV, alongside Superboy’s manager Rex Leech and one of the wacky Superman cultists who paint their face like the Cyborg. Look at this guy. He shaved his head but only painted the face part? Come on man, you either commit to it or you don’t!

In Engine City, Mongul gets snappy with the Cyborg Superman again, and again gets humiliated in front of everyone (Cyborg calls him a “dog”). Why do you do this to yourself? Dump him, girl!

A robot sniper almost headshots the Man in Black, only for some invisible force to yank his gun at the last moment. Hmmm. In unrelated news, Don Sparrow says: "Interesting note that Luthor II can’t find Supergirl -- I wonder where she is?" Hmmmmmmmmmm.

Don also points out: "The Man in Black asks if he can call John Henry ‘Steel’ because the Man of Steel is too much of a mouthful on their mission, setting up for his permanent name change." Steel should have said "OK, then I'll call you Black."

I'll stop cannibalizing Don's section and just hand the mic over to him. Click "read more" to keep reading!

Art-Watch (by @donsparrow):

We start with the cover, and it has a unique heritage.  This cover was sketched and laid out by Karl Kesel, penciled by Tom Grummett, and then inked by Doug Hazlewood, and it’s a good, accurate description of what we find in the issue—our three Supermen fighting their way into Engine City.  Added points for bringing up the pre-Crisis concept of the Superman Revenge Squad, which was actually a grouping of Superman rogues (an updated version would appear in a few years). Weirdly, editorial is still seeming to hide the Fabio-hair on Superman proper on the covers—I wonder what that’s about!

Inside the book we get our first look at a trait that defines this issue visually: grease-pencil clouds!

Max pointed this out to me when we were chatting about the issue, and I think he’s right—this book doesn’t look like it was inked in Hazlewood’s usual way.  It’s 1993, so it’s hard to imagine they could pull off “digital inking”, the practice of just darkening the pencils, but we see a pencil-like texture so often in this issue, a guy could begin to wonder if that’s maybe what they’re up to.  So for the whole issue, there is a slightly looser, rushed feel, especially in the backgrounds.  Then on the credits page, we notice a special thanks for Mark Heike—who google reveals to me is a comic artist in his own right.  Maybe he pitched in with some semi-credited inks? Smokey clouds aside, it’s another nice splash, with the returned Superman leading the charge.

A common critique of Tom Grummett’s Superman is that the way his face is drawn can look a little Conan-like, and the new long hair doesn’t help that, though in these early pages Superman is looking very on-model and handsome.

The fight (and flight) choreography as the Superman trio enters Engine City airspace is well done, and while it couldn’t be more 90s if it tried, the image of Superman double-fisting blasters and ammo belts is pretty awesome, I must say. Plus, Superboy’s assessment that it’s “slammin’” might replace Robin’s “totally rad!” as a new catch-phrase in these reviews.

The reveal of the giant rocket has a great sense of scale (and is another example of pencil-like lines still popping up on finished art).  Great sound effect there, too.

As Superboy heroically climbs up the rocket, Tom and co give a great sense of the speed, and g-forces the kid is experiencing.  And there is such a great sense of drama in these last pages, as the celebrations for the missile having missed Metropolis quickly turn to grief, as Superboy is for sure, definitely dead. [Max: Forever.]

STRAY OBSERVATIONS:

Interesting to hear Steel use the phrase “a bursting shell” in relation to piercing Superman’s skin, a callback to Action #1’s description of Superman’s invulnerability, which apparently was known in-universe as well.

I love how unequivocally “Superman” they write the Man in Black in these pages.  On his first day back to civilization, he’s already saying he’d gladly die again in order to stop Warworld from taking over Earth.  Goosebumps, man!

Does Kesel have dogs on the brain?  First Henshaw calls Mongul a dog (ouch) and then just one panel later, Superboy makes his Dalmatian joke. (Note: Dalmatian is actually misspelled in the comic!) [Max: “Dalmation” does sound like some sort of Jack Kirby thing. Maybe it’s something the Kid saw at Cadmus?]

Superboy is pretty much a non-stop joke machine in these pages, as just about every panel he’s in, he’s cracking wise, so it’s hard to highlight all of them.  Some are better than others—I get that hearing the phrase “full frontal” puts Michelle Pfeiffer into his head, but “full frontal assault” just isn’t sexy. [Max: You know, 26 years later, I JUST got that one.]

GODWATCH: Steel invokes “God” when he thinks Superboy might have been burnt up in the rocket launch, and then a page later, Superman does the same when he sees the charred corpses of Henshaw’s minions. [Max: Also, I don’t think I caught the significance of John Henry’s “I know” as a kid.]

I love Superboy’s self-talk as he climbs the missile, particularly the Caddyshack-like “crowd goes wild”.  This is exactly how a kid his age would act in that crazy moment.

Lois and Clark was airing in this period, so Perry White is legally required to use Lane Smith’s “Great Shades of Elvis” catchphrase. [Max: Unfortunately they don’t have the rights anymore, so they had to change it for the collected edition...]

[myladyofsilver]

This is Constance. She started as a magical girl and ended up as a French painter who uses crutches to walk. Constance - or Connie - is also a Miraculous Ladybug OC because, when I got on my Obsessive Bullshit, didn’t have the motivation to make another OC and I though “Underdeveloped magical girl? Sure, I can use this.”

She actually wasn’t supposed to use a wheelchair or crutches, but I read a fic with a disabled Marinette and I liked the idea so here we are.

She is also a fashion designer, that was there before Miraculous, and is a painter.

She has a harem and I am ashamed. I just really like harem fics lol.

Connie originally had twin tails and brown hair, but I liked the black hair better and wanted it down, though she probably ends up cutting it to her shoulders.

Idk why she’s so pale all my white girls are pale oops

She’s a quarter Chinese and three quarters French.

She has nice arms because of her crutches and pushing her wheelchair,

She’s a little religious, she likes to pray and carries a rosary, a gift from her mother.

Connie smokes, and it’s entirely Death’s Fault.

She’s a little fucked up I guess? She’s a kleptomaniac and (even though she’s technically disabled(?)) is often hired to break into old homes to steal shit. She fakes a panic disorder in canon to have a reason to be missing during Akuma attacks.

Constance has aquaphobia from nearly drowning because her parents were too busy arguing. Constance doesn’t like to speak to men out of fear and can be considered selectively mute and uses sign language.

Speaking of her parents, her mother is dead. Her father is in an asylum/prison for killing her. Her father went insane after her baby sister, Ambre, was a stillborn and he murdered her mother and beat her. She now lives with her older half-sisters Kara, Death, and later Verity. They are a part of a larger universe that I’ll explain in a later post. Her aunt also lives with her, but she doesn’t last long.

Constance also picked up schizophrenia and it is completely her father’s fault.

Constance shows signs of PTSD from watching her mother die and her father’s abuse.

Constance is a descendent of a Guardian that survived Feast, and has passive magic.

Personality- she’s flirty and denies it left and right, even though she flirts with everything that moves. She’s a manipulative asshole who uses tears to get what she wants, but is nowhere near as bad as Lila, and is vengeful, swearing to hunt Hawkmoth down for interrupting her flirting abusing the Miraculous. She’s protective and will not hesitate bitch try me Kagami. Better social skills than Adrien (no high road shit) but is apathetic to other’s feelings and only cares when she befriends them. She sugarcoats things but won’t hesitate to cut to the chase when she’s short on time or is just fed up. While she is manipulative, she does understand that being a bitch and hurting others will get you nowhere in life, and is quick to jump to the aid of her friends. She’s intelligent science and artistically wise, but not so much maths and people wise. Constance is secretive, knows she has to live another day and often doesn’t take risks unless absolutely necessary, and likes touch, holding hands or draping herself over others with their consent. Religious but only really prays because it makes her feel better, she does believe in God but not in Heaven or Hell. She really hates pushy guys and people who touch her without permission. She's really creative and wakes up in the middle of night to start a painting or a sketch.

Constance is taken in by her half-sisters in Eden (country I made, later post) when she is around seven, returns to Paris she is when she is eleven and meets Chloe, and become Lady Dove when she is twelve.

OK ACTUAL PLOT NOW

This happens in the middle of the summer break, and Constance is in Paris for the first time in years. She is twelve and skips a grade.

Constance breaks into an abandoned home for Fiona, a client and later possible SO, to find an old heirloom. Constance breaks in through a window and finds some weird shit (weird spell books in code, diaries) and is seriously creeped out, but Kara didn’t raise no bitch so she keeps going, she’s seen creepier in Eden anyways.

Constance (on her crutches) goes upstairs and finds a room with a shine dedicated to a cameo. She picks it up because hey, it’s free real estate.

The cameo is a Miraculous, The Dove Miraculous of Restoration.

Constance freaks and thinks she’s hallucinating and Meme, the Kwami, snaps her out of it, and explains. Constance transforms into Lady Dove.

It’s a lame name but hey, I like it.

In Origins, Lady Dove only appears in Part Two of Origins, because Constance just doesn’t care and thinks that Ladybug can handle restoring the city and cleansing the Akuma. When Ivan/Stoneheart is at the top of the Eiffel Tower and spits out the mass of butterflies, Ladybug manages to get most of the Akumas and panics when they try to escape and get someone, Lady Dove uses a cleansing spell (learned from the tomes) to get the rest and makes her debut.

Also, in this mess Ladybug can only cleanse the Akuma and not restore the city, Lady Dove does that. Meme didn’t tell her that and only said something after the first Stoneheart.

She steals part of Ladybug’s role lol whoops.

Lady Dove cleanses Ivan’s Akuma, restores the city, and sleeps because that’s the first time she used the restoration spell and she’s fucking tired.

That’s Lady Dove, now to Constance.

Constance joins at the same time as Alya, and is Chloe’s friend. She gets mad at Chloe for being rude and scolds her in front of the whole damn class. Chloe get pissed and Constance gives up and just starts flirting with her to make her shut up. Marinette and Alya still end up with different seats and Constance sits in front in her wheelchair and pouts.

Constance tries to talk down Alya in the library and fails miserably.

Watches the fight on the news but otherwise doesn’t do shit

Meme begins her explanation of Miracle Boxes, potions, unification, and Feast. Meme explains that the runes she had Constance draw all around the house were to hide them as long as they stayed inside.

(Second Day) She gets mad at Adrien but is finds out what happened from Sabrina, but doesn’t say anything, deciding it wasn’t her problem. She sits with Chloe and fakes a panic attack to escape, realizing that Ladybug didn’t get the Akuma and god fucking damnit Alya. Lady Dove debuts.

(Third Day) Constance manipulates Chloe into letting her sit with some else, quoting Sabrina’s and Chloe’s strong friendship and how she wants to make more friends. Honestly probably just says she doesn’t want to sit in the front and gets mad when Chloe tries to get others to move. She sits with Chloe and Sabrina at lunch and occasionally in class when she doesn’t want to sit in her wheelchair or the second row.

Constance asks Alya and Marinette if she can join them in the second row, is accepted because she stood up to Chloe, flirts with Marinette, and probably sleeps through class or just flirts because goddamnit I want this bitch to have a harem.

When Adrien arrives, Constance greets him a little coldly but doesn’t ignore him.

She witnesses the umbrella scene and teases Marinette for falling head over heels with him.

MIRACLE BOX

Later on in the week, Constance's aunt dies in a crash. She receives her first Miracle Box, which is the one Meme belongs to because fuck you.

I want a kwami reunion scene with Constance in the background crying for her aunt but being utterly fascinated with the kwamis and the designs of each Miraculous.

The Eagle Miraculous of that box is missing.

Lady Dove introduces the idea of temporary heroes early on and uses her Miracle Box

BTW Master Fu doesn’t know Lady Dove’s identity and disapproves of Lady Dove handing out the Miraculouses out already and not hiding them from Hawkmoth, who might target them.

SKILLS

-Shitty manipulation

-Creation of high-quality paintings and articles of clothing she designs

-High flexibility and reflexes, and high upper-body strength

-Able to wield several Miraculouses at once due to high mental resistance

-Several spells to enhance the Miraculous

-A cleansing spell that can be used to cleanse a mass Akuma

-Can speak French, choppy English, Eden’s language, and learning Mandarin/Chinese and Japanese

STUFF I’M ADDING

She has four friends from Eden- Eshaal, Caitlyn, Himari, and Rowen. They’re not a part of the harem but run the Constance Protection Squad. They come in later one at a time – expect Himari and Rowen, they’re dating and refuse to be separated. Eshaal’s parents are diplomates, Caitlyn’s mother is a war photographer who takes pictures of Akuma attacks and her father is dead, Himari’s mother is a chef and her father a financial analyst, and Rowen’s mother is a painter and his father a general who was sent in to monitor the Akuma situation.

Eshaal is a pop star, Caitlyn is a photographer, Himari is a dancer, and Rowen is an actor. Caitlyn is a workaholic and likes to gossip, and Eshaal is a ball of sunshine and dramatic. Rowen is insecure but very flashy and unbelievably dramatic, and Himari is an introvert but not afraid to be dramatic or cause a scene.

I’ll do a post on them later because I’m still trying to figure out what they look like.

I’m also adding Edward and Thomas DeLeon, twins who join probably after Origins. Thomas is a jealous bastard and is aiming to work in business, while Edward is a musician and shy. Thomas falls in love with Constance and is like Chat Noir but worse with his flirting and declarations of love. He gets Akumatised later and gets beat down. Edward also get Akumatised because his song is stolen.

Thomas finds the Eagle Miraculous and becomes a hero, name pending.

Why Constance has a harem: Her passive magic has something to do with love and naturally draws people to her. This is only amplified when she finds the Dove Miraculous, whose side effects include making people easily drawn to her for one reason or another. So, she’s a walking love magnet :D

OTHER THINGS

She totally sets the classroom on fire to scare off Lila

- “Are you insane?!” “Schizophrenic, actually.”

Forgive the spelling and grammer I’m tired.

[dokidokiliteraturegirls]

 Hello everyone! Yui here, with today’s special feature, DDLitG Behind the Scenes: What’s the deal with Ako?

In this special update we’ll talk about her character in general, design, her place in the story, and more! So get comfortable in your seat, get yourself some good snacks, and let’s delve into the background of DDLitG’s 1st-ish original character~

Who is Ako?

Ako, formerly known as “female student”, was originally one of the many NPCs used by the game’s engine to fill its world with nondescript background characters, so as to make it feel less empty. However, Sayori took a special interest in her, and decided to befriend her, following the steps of a young MC who befriended Sayori in a similar situation and ended up saving her life. This would in turn allow Ako to grow as a character beyond her 1 line of coding and get her own sprites, as well as being able to interact with the world. She would later go on to fall in love with Sayori and shenanigans ensue.

Ako was created with the purpose of telling the story of the Friendship arc.

Designing Ako.

Let me make one thing clear: I’m not a character designer. I don’t know jack about it besides the very basics. But I did try to make someone who looked mildly original and, most importantly, different from the other girls.

Originally, she was going to be the image of a shy, fragile girl who Sayori befriended out of pity, more than anything. Based on this initial idea, I made this beta Ako design on one of my copybooks when I should’ve been working:

As you can see, her very first sprite was the one where she’s shyly looking away to avoid eye contact (and to seem annoying, but more on that later). I was happy with the pose but not with her face, as it looked super unoriginal. She resembled Ochako Uraraka from My Hero Academia a bit too much, so I tried to change her hair to make her stand out more. Here is her second iteration:

This time, I felt like I cranked it up too much to the other side. Now she stood out TOO much. Her hair felt like it came more from a protagonist than someone who’s supposed to be a background character. I adopted a new philosophy after seeing this result: she had to look as bland as possible. She had to be the kind of character you see all the time in the background of an anime - those simple, unassuming designs you’d never look twice at because you’re too focused on the protagonists with candy-coloured hair. In DDLitG’s canon she’s a filler NPC brought to the forefront, and her design had to reflect that more than my desire to make her look “cool”.

With this in mind, we come to Ako v0.3

As you can see, this is much closer to her current design. But this was still a sketch (even the drawing above is very much unfinished). As you can see, I got closer to her 0.1 version with the hair, but changed the eyes to make them look more unique, giving her that more neutral, “nothing” expression. Having finally found some ground I was comfortable with, I redefined her design a little further, gave her some more details around the hair and clothes, adjusted the proportions of her body (because apparently I draw heads huge), and made her finalized design.

I was happy.

What’s with this sassy... monochrome child?

If there’s one constant to be found in the pictures above, is that she was always meant to be black and white. There are plenty of reasons, which I’ll list because, honestly, there are a lot.

1. I didn’t want to look her like the rest of the cast at fucking all. She is an OC introduced in a story with already established characters made by a much more talented writer. She’s an outsider, someone who doesn’t belong with this cast of colorful characters, and I wanted readers to be able to tell that at first glance. No, she’s not like the other girls. They don’t belong in the same place. She is not a member of the original DDLC cast, and it shows.

2. I know I can’t draw as well as Satchely, so trying to copy DDLC’s art style would just end up looking awkward and wrong. I had no choice but to do my own thing. And if I’m doing my own thing, why not take it all the way? I already gave myself artistic freedom, I might as well go crazy with it~

3. I just adore characters in a fictional universe that look different from the rest of the cast or have some strange design choice for literally no reason. Like Krillin from Dragonball, with his eyes that make him look like he belongs in an entirely different manga...

...or even Jotaro Kujo, whose hat merges with his hair because why not!

I live for dumb crap like that.

4. A huuuuuge inspiration for me while writing (besides my own uninteresting life) is music. Many times I listen to a specific track or imagine situations with specific background music to make them seem more real, and be able to better portray the feelings of a scene when writing [For example, I listened to My Chemical Romance’s Welcome to the Black Parade a lot while writing Monika’s Death].

Ako’s creation was no exception. Her appearance was partially based on the cover for not only one of my favorite Vocaloid albums of all time, but one of my favorite albums period: Wowaka’s glorious Unhappy Refrain.

I’ve been writing stuff based on this album alone for years because it’s just so damn striking to me. The picture of the faceless schoolgirl falling into the unseen abyss, the background uninterested characters that imply they are used to seeing fellow girls suffer, the distorted world they live in, the album’s way to explore teenage depression, the freaking name of the album, EVERYTHING! IT’S SUCH A GOOD EXPLORATION OF THE DIFFICULT LIFE TEENS FACE THAT OFTEN GOES UNNOTICED!! AAAAAAHHHH IT’S SO GOOD.

5. Ako was also based on a previous design I made for another character meant for an original visual novel I was writing and I’m probably never going to finish, who was also going to be monochromatic to reference this album (in that context it made more sense though cuz every character was a musical reference).

This character, in turn, was based on Monoko from Yume Nikki, which is more obvious because of her crying eye and extra arm.

So basically at this point it would’ve been weird if I hadn’t made her monochromatic.

Naming Ako

This was one of the most difficult parts, ngl.

As I mentioned, Ako was originally going to be a fragile, shy girl. Based on this, her original name during the design face was Moromi, which is one more letter than “Moroi”, which Google translate promises me means “Brittle” or “Fragile” in Japanese.

However, after the philosophy change that happened during her conceptual stage, “Fragility” was no longer at the core of her character, as it was now “Nothingness/Blandness”. Because of this, I changed her name to “Ako”.

Many people have submitted their interpretations of the name, ranging from its meaning “To teach/to learn”, and “To yearn for”, which all fit better than the original tbh.

The intended meaning is for “Ako” to be read as “A-Ko”, which is a way by which Japenese media often refers to filler characters, as it translates to “Girl A”.

Examples of this can be seen in Super Danganronpa 2, where a character in a videogame is called “A-Ko” to hide their identity...

...and in a movie called “Project A-ko”, which was a parody of the anime tropes from the time, so they gave the protagonist the most generic name ever. The antagonist and side character, by the way, are called “B-Ko” and “C-Ko” respectively. This movie is fucking awesome.

This name also made sense in the context of the story, because we already had a character named “Student A”, so this goes to show that the game just gave Ako the default name it had stored for female NPCs.

Blinded Ako, or How I Learned to Convey Emotion Through Ahegao

When I came up with Ako, she was meant to have most of her character revolving around her infatuation with Sayori. She was, after all, written in the story with the purpose of falling in love with her, and nothing else. Her character, personality, likes/dislikes, and hobbies came afterwards. As the story progressed, however, I decided that she should have a personality separate from just being in love with another character. So to separate the actions she committed under the influence of her passion, I did a little design change in the middle of the arc: Blinded Ako.

In this version, Ako has been literally blinded by love and stops being rational. This is represented by the hearts covering her eyes, and clouding her judgement. This was done not only with the purpose of representing she was past her breaking point, but also to differentiate the Ako that makes mistakes with the Ako that was introduced in the beginning of the arc. Almost so as to make them two different characters, so when she is reintroduced as a regular character after Friendship, readers could think “oh, she’s not going to do dumb stuff again, she’s not blinded by love anymore.”

Many people compared the above panel with “ahegao”, a trope in hentai manga where a character does a silly face to represent them breaking from enjoying themselves so much. This was done partially on purpose. The main idea was to represent Ako being blinded by her infatuation for Sayori, not to equate her sate of being with anything sexual. It DID end up looking more hentai-esque than I expected though, as, well, Ako is in black and white, and the heart eyes are also a trope in ahegao. And she’s sweating. And she’s saying that she’s about to break....

.....

....well at least I drove my point home.

Ako’s musical influences

Above I mentioned how music was a big part of my inspiration, and how I listened to Welcome to the Black Parade while writing Monika’s Death, so the question in no one’s mind is: what music did Yui use as inspiration for Ako’s character and the arc? 🤔

Well, hypothetical reader, the answer is that since Ako was meant to be bland and flavour-free, her original depiction is not based on a song or anything. Her desperation towards Sayori and Blinded Ako, though, are based on TRONICBOX’s 80′s style remix of Ariana Grande’s Into You. And yes, this 80′s remix in specific. Not the original song. I highly encourage you to give it a listen and pay attention to the lyrics if you want an insight into how Ako was feeling during her breaking point.

Also, as a side note, no one has asked me this, but I imagine Ako’s voice to sound like the vocals of Panty and Stocking’s ending, Fallen Angel. It’s a truly beautiful song, and once again, I highly encourage you to give it a listen and pay attention tot he lyrics if you want an insight in Ako’s current feelings towards Sayori.

Ako’s reception

This is more something personal than an explanation of the character, but it’s something I want to share nonetheless.

Remember when I said Ako was meant to be annoying? Yeah... xD

When I decided to add a new character I did so under the idea that everyone was going to hate her, because it’s a purposefully boring OC made by some insane person with the sole purpose of being added to an already interesting and loved cast of characters just to fuck everything up.

The first scene I ever wrote for Ako was the part where Monika asked if she had hurt Sayori, and she said “Not intentionally...” while looking away, which is why her first sprite ever was in that position. She was meant to make people feel frustrated over this girl just looking away from her problems and avoiding responsibility, while also telling Monika to her face that she had done something bad to Sayori. Readers were expected to hate her. That’s why in the beginning she says she doesn’t like literature, to assure you that she’s not joining the literature club. That’s why there’s a scene where she gets punched in the face. That’s why she looks so extremely out of place.

YOU WERE SUPPOSED TO DISLIKE HER!! omg I’m still surprised at how warm the reception was, you guys are just too nice for me~ ❤️

Because of the unexpected reception I had to change some parts of the arc, which were originally going to be much crueler towards her [I even questioned adding the punch at all, but it was an important part of Monika’s development so I felt it]. I also established her as a recurring character in spite of her dislike of literature, and did my best to make her less hate-able than she was originally going to be, even cutting some planned lines of dialogue that made her pretty irredeemable. Looking back, I am glad I did those changes, we ended up with a well-liked and pretty nice girl because of it~

Final thoughts

The introduction of Ako and writing Friendship in general was a very intense experience for me. It was very difficult to balance Ako as being both relevant to the story and moving the plot forward, but not make her the sole focus of everything and have her obscure everyone else, because OCs in established pieces of media tend to do that.

This arc also got a LOT of mixed reviews, some people liking it, some hating everything I did. This made me really question what I was doing and at many points even regret I was writing Friendship at all. At a certain point I lost almost 50 followers in a single update.

I also had trouble writing some parts because they were too sad. And that’s not my style! I like writing happy people being good friends, damn it, not everyone crying and hating each other.

But when all is said and done, I’m happy I wrote both Friendship and Ako into the story. I’ve received many wonderful, supportive messages telling me how much readers enjoyed it. Even some people saying they had been in a similar situation to the one depicted in the story, and were glad to see a story that showed a positive outcome.

Will I write more OCs into DDLitG?

Meh, who knows. I love writing more original stuff and expanding the world of DDLitG, but I also feel like if I introduce yet another OC, people will crucify me and hate me for flooding the story with too much stuff that’s irrelevant to the DDLC they’re used to. That being said, writing this blog is my first, and very possibly last chance to expose my stories to such a large audience. And seeing people like what you do not only because you’re riding the coattails of a recognizable brand, but because they like what you do with it, makes me pretty darn happy. Being completely honest, I’d like to add another character. But just one. And only if it’s something that will push both the story and the girls’ character arcs forward. Not just adding OCs for the sake of it.

Thanks for sticking until the end of this BTS, and I hope you found it an enjoyable read, or at the very least I made you a little bit less bored~ ❤️

Next time, in DDLitG Behind the scenes: What’s the deal with The Perfect Yuri?

[steve0discusses]

Yugioh S2 Ep 33:  ᵇˡᶦᵐᵖ ʙʟɪᴍᴘ  BLIMP ԀꟽI⅂ꓭ

I usually don’t really do these during weekdays but lets just say today was a day where I felt the need for a healthy distraction.

Ah, it is episode 33. There are...so many episodes in a Yugioh season, guys. I was just not aware. But, here we are at episode 33 and we are finally going to start the finals.

For reals this time, no one’s going to get engaged, no one’s going to randomly murder a bunch of people. We are officially starting the finals this episode.

Sort of.

Man, Kaiba and his butterfly-wing shoulderpads. Sometimes it just looks like he’s just going to gently flutter away.

Also in this stadium with Kaiba and Mokuba is Marik and Odion, who is just as confused as to where the hell everyone went and why the hell Mai just flew by being carried off by a ninja in a jet pack. The hours it must have taken to wait for Yugi’s crew to walk 2 single blocks was enough time for Marik to formulate yet another back-up plan. I want to say this is plan #9.

It’s a good thing Pharaoh can’t read anymore, considering that Marik’s just walking around in a crop hoodie with a tattoo that just reads “SEASON 2 SPOILERS, PHARAOH, DO NOT READ” in hieroglyphs.

But if you wait long enough, even Yugi and his friends will accidentally wander the correct direction and actually show up.

(read more under the cut)

Not a joke, this is actually an unfinished public works project, congratulations, Kaiba Corps, there is nothing that Kaiba won’t try and then fail at, at least once.

Anyways, this shady-as-hell unfinished stadium seems kind of like a good place to get murdered and then tossed into a cement slab. Which honestly, would have been a very likely end to this season, considering what we have been through so far.

Marik decides to sneak around the bleachers, probably on all fours so no one would spot him, jump out a window, and then come in through the front door like he’s not been here this entire time. As he did, apparently he made everything very, very windy. In fact, everyone with a millennium item brought with them a spooooooky gust of wind except I think Yugi, who is probably too short to pull that one off.

Yugi did manage to get the vibe of “something bad is coming” before Marik entered the field, but like...there’s so many bad things at this point, Yugi. So many people that could be. It feels like that might be half the cast. You could say that at any given moment in this season and be absolutely right.

So, after possessing Tea for a second, for...some reason? Did she need threatening? Anyway, after doing that, Namu is in with the gang because literally nothing will prevent Yugi from becoming a friend with you, especially if you are trying to hide the fact that you just tried to kill him by drowning him in the ocean.

Funny how instead of them asking how the hell Namu got away from cultists, they have to fixate on the mystery of “is Bakura good at cards!?” because, and I kinda forgot about this, I guess they don’t remember the last time they saw Bakura play. How far up their own ass is Yugi and Joey to assume that just because Bakura doesn’t brag about cards all day, that Bakura hasn’t been equally good at cards? They kind of deserve this.

Yeah and PS Kaiba absolutely did not check the satellite to get the DL on why the hell Bakura got so many cards. Dayjob Saruman I guess went home for the evening so...although that shadow game was definitely being recorded on a computer, we’ll never know what that mess looked like on Kaiba’s end. Like there’s just three duel disks covered in ectoplasm hanging out in the cemetery and no one seems to have noticed?

Like for a competition that was huge about security and tech, they only seemed to watch the God Cards players and then Mokuba randomly monitored Joey Wheeler for some reason. That was it. That was all the people the Kaiba’s cared about.

So although Marik and Odion and Bakura could probably take on everyone right now. Like riiiight now. They decide not to because, well, I nearly forgot about someone that I was really looking forward to seeing again, that’s right, my favorite boy!

AW THERE HE IS!

to quote one of my actual favorite earworms,

Where has this big boy been hiding!? He’s freakin ginormous, but apparently he was just hiding behind a soft cloud or something, in anticipation of this grand reveal in a very sketch unfinished stadium that’s probably being used to bet on bum fights.

Mokuba gets excited for the first time since...I don’t remember if Mokuba’s ever actually been excited before. Like I’m digging through my memories here and no, Mokuba’s been mostly abducted, angry, bored, or scared, this is the first time he’s exuded that pure pre-teen energy.

PS a blimp’s max flying height is 1500 ft, and what surprised me the most about this was realizing that this entire time we’ve been watching this show, we’ve been getting measurements in US metrics. Didn’t realize that before today.

Also, on my wikipedia deep dive into blimps, I found out that like...this is probably not a “blimp,” but actually a semi-rigid airship but...I’m gonna keep calling it a blimp. Don’t @ me, blimp fandom on tumblr.

It’s so good to see more Blimp. Even though...probably the worst place to throw a tourney? Like...how many people are you even gonna fit in there? Like...is this televised? I mean I don’t know how Kaiba’s marketing works for this, honestly, he took over every TV in the city to get people to join this tourney, and now that it’s in full swing no one can watch it?

Whatever, it’s a blimp.

Duke Devlin is still here, despite the fact that I don’t think he’s going to do anything for the rest of this season. I guess they had to promote that gameboy game so his face will just be in the background always although as a dice player he um...he has no purpose here.

In fact it makes no sense, he works with Pegasus who straight up killed Mokuba and Kaiba like a month ago, why are they just letting him on their airship? Whatever.

I dunno, maybe there’s more that Duke will do eventually, but he just seemed like a replacement for Bakura at first--and Bakura’s back now, so why’s he still here?

Ishizu is here, and while every other time we’ve seen Ishizu, she’s been talking our ears off, the one time she should probably say something, she instead decides to lock herself inside her bedroom and avoid everyone.

I guess she was mostly avoiding Marik so they don’t have a sibling laser fight in the hull of a Blimp. That would have made things so awkward for Yugi and Bakura. Especially Yugi, who still doesn’t know that thing around his neck shoots freakin lasers.

Props the background artists who had to draw billions of small little buildings AKA the worst background in the world to draw. I will go through hoops to avoid drawing even a single building, but to have to sit down and paint just a whole page of buildings that someone’s going to smack a foreground on anyway? Mad respect. If you look closely you’ll see that this artist had to use a ruler and perspective and other annoying tools that take up time and energy. Even using editing tools like using blocks of black color to imitate the look of rooftops and crowded structures, it probably took them a few hours to make the background that went in a .2 second scene.

They’ll probably reuse these buildings later, don’t get me wrong, but oi, I feel for them in my carpel tunnel bones.

Seto keeps telling Yugi that they’re rivals but I don’t think anyone on this show other than Joey thinks of Seto as much of a rival at all. You almost feel a little bad for him, like he’s in a weird...hate triangle, but very much on the loosing end of it.

Next we get a good look at Kaiba’s interior design decisions, and much like his mansions, it’s a lot of very unexpected soothing pastels. Like this is a lot of seafoam blue. How can someone so angry make something so grandma-zen? Is it actually Kaiba’s grandmother who is just slapping down all these paint chips when he’s not looking? I mean it’s got muted pink stools even, with a makeup station.

Tea, Tristan, and Duke have no rooms to go to because they aren’t actually part of this competition, so they’re just squatting around until they’ll probably all end up crashing with Mokuba, the only other person who is not dueling in this competition. Reminds me a lot of the first week of college, where everyone is just coasting dorm room to dorm room and there’s like 10 people there who actually don’t actually go there but want to hang out with their high school friends and they just end up sleeping in your room for 7 days until they read your other friend’s diary, get hella indignant, and then storm off back to California. My apologies to my Freshman year roommate who had to put up with all that girl drama.

And because it’s this show, the men and their bottomless stomachs decide to raid the smallest little mini fridge and you wouldn’t believe what takes up about 1/4 of it

There is so many cheese wheels in this Japanese show, guys. So, I felt like doing a quick google search of Japan and Cheese and it’s just a bunch of ex-pats talking about how the European cheeses most of us are familiar with is harder to find in Japan. So, maybe that’s why? It's a status symbol that he can find round cheeses?

But even if you can only get your hands on a 30$ Swiss wheel every so often (because that really is just Swiss cheese, like lets be real.) how much Swiss cheese can one man eat??? Especially since, looking closely, there is not a single baguette here. No man can eat that much cheese without a bread!

Sorry, stuffing your face full of free cheese you pulled out of your friend’s mini-fridge is also giving me vivid flashbacks to my Freshman year of college.

Also little edit--just realized that flag is flipped 90 degrees from French so that’s probably a Holland flag? Although I looked up European flags and there is...none that have that color order so I don’t know which country they were originally going for.

YO I just realized there’s no curtains on any of these pelvis-height level windows. So, you can’t sleep because of the lights, and you can’t change into pajamas because like--the whole city will see.

Kaiba does seem like the type that would on purpose not install any curtains on any of the windows he’s ever owned, though.

Keto is gone, and now we just have Roland, who is probably too terrified to ever abduct the Kaibas by picking them up by the neck with one arm.

Anyway, in case you were wondering--since the show has decided to make a huge fuss over card prep time--how can they prep for a card game if they only have the cards they brought with them and they don’t know what the other people are even playing or which person they’re playing first?

Kaiba did nothing. He sat there and thought “If Yugi doesn’t even put that God Card in his deck this entire tourney will be absolutely pointless.”

Mai took little sips of milk. Probably paired it with Swiss cheese. Just a huge bite out of a wheel of Swiss cheese.

Odion never found the refrigerator.

Marik took a nap on this bed that looks like it’s just made of foam. Why is this the only one on the show who’s like “Youknow, I should sleep at some point.”

And Yugi’s prep involved talking to himself a whole lot, which explains why none of his friends wanted to stay here for that. I doubt very much Yugi kicked him out of the room. He was probably like “no, stay, stay” in that high pitched-low pitched voice combo until they were like “nooooo I don’t want to be present for your daily seance checkup byeeee.” while slowly backing out of the room.

Yo remember that time we were worried about Bandit Keith stealing the puzzle?

Apparently...Pharaoh could have just sort of done that dizzolving thingy and appeared right back on Yugi’s neck.

And remember that time Yugi handed that puzzle to Joey?

Apparently...Pharaoh could have just sneezed and then bam--right back around Yugi’s neck.

Like remember any time this season that we’ve been like “Oh no, the puzzle! We’re gonna lose it!” no that...that was never a problem.

I mean to be fair when it’s dismantled it might not work but um--apparently you can’t lose an item after it’s decided it likes you. At all. Which is kind of weird because Pegasus totally lost that eyeball, and aren’t all these items property of Pharaoh anyway?

I’ll try not to think about it as this rule seems to only really apply to Bakura. 

Anyway, next week--I’m pretty sure the finals are indeed actually starting next week. I could be wrong as I have been every single episode but maybe--probably--the finals are actually going to start. We shall see.

[turtlessuggest]

Draelon the Pale

Just for kicks and giggles I rolled up stats and a background for the sort of Tortle character I’d want to play given a chance.

Draelon the Pale

Tortle Wizard (School of Divination)

Background: Cloistered Scholar

Ability Scores:

Strength: 18 Dexterity: 7 Constitution: 16 Intelligence: 18 Wisdom: 7 Charisma: 16

Languages: Common, Aquan, Infernal, Celestial

Skill Proficiencies: Survival, History, Arcana

History: Draelon, as many Tortle do, began his life on a stretch of beach, surrounded by high makeshift walls and two loving, elderly parents and a clutch of brothers and sisters. Unlike most Tortles, however, Draelon was born with pristine white skin, with only a few patches of earthen brown on his shell (picture for reference).

This quickly drew worries from his parents. With such coloration, especially at a young age, he would be an incredibly easy target for those who would wish to do him harm. He would be like a beacon of vulnerability no matter where he roamed. His parents agreed that of any place, the city might be best for him, the larger and more eclectic the better. At least there, he might be simply one of many strange faces as opposed to a lone one wandering the wilds.

And so, Draelon’s parents impressed on him since the time he could understand the spoken word to make for the largest city he could as soon as they weren’t with him anymore. Thankfully, Draelon had a natural curiosity about him, and hearing tales of great buildings filled with knowledge from across the world which his parents called “libraries” fascinated him to no end. Once his parents finally passed and his siblings began to scatter, he had an intense desire to travel to one of the great holds of stone and mortar his parents spoke of.

Of course, he had to get there first. While his siblings scattered off into the wilds, Draelon took to the main roads, a roughly sketched map clutched in his pale claws. It was not an easy journey: Draelon’s tiny feet could only take him so far every day, and while his natural Tortle survival instincts helped him to gather food and construct shelters, he wasn’t exactly the most coordinated young Tortle. Through some stroke of biological unluckyness, his legs often betrayed him, tangling beneath him and sending him hurtling towards the ground along with any supplies he might have been carrying. It also didn’t help that, more often than not, he found himself lost in thought, wrapped in his own little world as he contemplated the world around him. While this tended to help in planning, it also meant he tended to ignore the surrounding physical world, which more than once meant dangers tended to get far closer to him than he would have liked.

In a rare stroke of luck, thankfully, Draelon was briefly picked up by a wandering band of adventurers, who styled themselves the Last Light Brigade. Taking pity on the little pale Tortle after finding him stuck in a tangle of brambles, the party briefly adopted him as they escorted him to one of the larger nearby cities. It was on this journey that the party’s wizard, a bright Fire Genasi named Caldera, noticed that not only did Draelon possess a keen mind, he had a natural aptitude for the arcane arts. Thus, when they finally arrived at the city and braced themselves for a tearful goodbye, they pulled every string they possibly could to get the young Draelon apprenticed to one of the local archwizards that oversaw arcane dealings within the city. Though Draelon did indeed shed many a tear when it came time for the Last Light Brigade to leave him, he forever held their influence to get him apprenticed as the kindest act he’d ever known.

The wizard Draelon was apprenticed to, the halfling Hugh Starcrest, was as many wizards are, perhaps a bit more focused on getting through his own studies than attempting a thorough education with his apprentice. In the early days Draelon was mostly used to ferry large books back and forth, aided by the Tortle’s surprisingly prodigious strength... though often hindered when his poor coordination sent those books scattered across the ground. Hugh did, though perhaps a little reluctantly, school the young Tortle on the ways of magic, and often prefaced Draelon’s errands with lessons on why a particular book, scroll, or instrument was needed. It was a very practical education, and Draelon soaked it all up like a dry sponge dropped in a puddle. 

As Draelon got older and advanced in his studies, he found himself fascinated by divination magic, especially by scripts discussing the nature of fate, probability, and eventuality, specifically those that divorced such concepts from strictly divine sources. The gods had their whims, of course, but surely not every single event, every causality, every blade of grass shifting randomly in the wind, needed to be tied to them, did it? He grew fascinated with the metaphysics of it all, and quickly grew frustrated with the lack of written material in the libraries of the city. 

So it was that a fully grown Draelon, perhaps earlier than even his homebody instructor might have liked, certainly sooner than the Last Light Brigade could have imagined, set himself on a course for adventure and learning. He was determined to uncover the cogs and springs of the universe, and he was certainly no longer a scared little hatchling. Now he was a wizard. He was Draelon the Pale.

Draelon is generally very good-natured, and surprisingly optimistic given the lot he’d been dealt at birth and through the years. While he realizes that bad things do happen in the world, that bad things indeed happen to those who do not deserve such fates, he tends to believe in the broader picture that the world and people who dwell in it will right themselves eventually. He does his best to reciprocate the kindness he was shown by Caldera, the rest of the Last Light Brigade, and even his grumpy teacher Hugh Starcrest, and is quick to help strangers. Unfortunately this does sometimes come back to bite him, as he often has trouble reading people and takes them only at their word. In his own words, “I am far better at reading books than people”. He’s still clumsy and he still gets lost in his own little world a lot, but at least now he has the power of magic to aid him.

As a full grown Tortle, Draelon is fairly stocky, with powerful arms forged from carrying extremely weighty tomes from libraries to the study of his old master augmented by his natural Tortle physiology. His skin and scales have not colored at all with age, remaining the same bright white as it had when he first poked out of the egg. His shell has gotten a little bit more color, with the almost flower-petal looking patches of brown being ringed by bits of black, but aside from that it has largely remained the same color. His eyes are soft and a deep, earthy shade of brown. The tips of his claws are as pale as his skin, but the bases of them are tinged with a bit of the brown of his shell.

When travelling, Draelon tends to do his best to hide his appearance, as it still acts as a beacon for danger to this day. He often has a deep green cloak (tailored for a Tortle’s body) with a tall hood to conceal most of his form, though his hands and beak do poke through from time to time. Interestingly enough, when people learn of his appearance and his fascination with fate, they assume he wishes to alter history at some point to change his looks, that he is ashamed of the way he was born. Draelon is quick to slap down such assumptions: “I have no problem with my looks” he often chides. “I think I look rather nice. Its the way other people and things react to my appearance that I try to guard against. If I didn’t have to worry about others looking at me like an ornament or easy prey, I wouldn’t wear this cloak.”

Aside from his cloak, Draelon usually carries a solid oak quarterstaff, more used to give vermin a solid whack or clearing brush than to aid in any spellcraft. The large pack strapped to the back of his shell seems to have as many books and scrolls as necessary travelling supplies. often spilling out the sides. 

Draelon tends to see magic as a wonder or object of study, and loathes having to use it for combat. He much prefers spells that gather information or enchant other parts of reality, seeing evocation as something of a cudgel. However, when the situation calls for it, he tends to prefer the power of cold and electricity, a result of witnessing the power of storms at sea as a hatchling.

[andtheyweredeskmates]

Coffee Shop AU

Dunn Bros Coffee shop was the most relaxing environment Marinette could manage to find in her busy city. It was nestled in between the quiet back alley of a road that encased the definition of bustle, and a neighborhood that screamed snotty. But Dunn’s had a way of repelling the noise and excitement. Upon walking in there was the distinct smell of coffee and relief that hit just right so that all the kinks in Marinette’s neck seem to ease out with a sigh. She walked in, dropped her things in her seat and ordered her coffee at the counter. Dunn’s just seemed to be an unspoken gathering of fantastic human beings. Not that Marinette would really know. The most she ever spoke was to the barista when she ordered her usual although sometimes even ordering required no words. Tim always knew what she needed and that included when her eyebags indicated the necessity of a double shot. There was the occasional smile between her and the hot blonde boy who sat in the corner near the window but when she walked into Dunn’s it was because she had work to do. She didn’t come in for the company, though the quiet warmth that lingered was welcoming and enticing. When she was especially overwhelmed she’d take her headphones out and people watch to the folk music that played in the background. But that only happened once a week and typically for about 10 minutes before her anxiety overtook her and she had to get back to the problem. Problem, typically taking the form of an also anxiety-stricken boss. 

Marinette loved her job. Truly. She was constantly surrounded by beauty and fabric and sketch pads and creativity. But where the creative mind took shelter, so also did the chaotic mind. Every day she was met with impossible dead lines and over the top dramatic break downs and every day Marinette met the dead line and endured the responsibility of comforting the most ridiculous of people. Most of her work was done to satisfy the mainstream and Marinette took comfort that there were plenty of people wearing what she designed. But her true passion lay in creating something new and unseen. Her boss called it an “adorable hobby” but prompted her to spend her time researching what was being demanded. 

Dunn’s seemed to accept that she had deadlines and anxiety and crazy people in her life and just let her be. She loved that about Dunn’s. So sitting her usual corner booth with coffee overpowering her nose and music filling her ears, Marinette sat content and continued her work. She did all the paperwork, matched all the right designs, and even whipped out her sewing kit to fix a stitch on a blouse that had been bothering her all day. She found time and peace to do all the things she needed to do. She glanced around the coffee shop, her eyes drifted aimlessly to the hot blonde boy who sat in the corner near the window. She didn’t know anything about him. Just that he was hot, blonde, a boy, and that he always sat in the corner near the window. Usually alone. But not today. Today there was another blonde though she did not look as particularly kind as the hot blonde boy who sat in the corner near the window. She had an impenetrable attitude that said she deserved to be worshipped and she knew it. Sometimes Marinette wished she could carry confidence like that. She knew she was pretty and she knew other people thought so but she didn’t know how to make it work for her or how to get the right people to notice. 

Marinette watched the two for a few minutes, trying to decide their dynamic. There was a certain mutual admiration. The confident blonde girl that sat in the corner near the window, touched the hot blonde boy that sat in the corner near the window often. She squeezed his hand, affectionately ran her fingers through his hair, smoothed wrinkles from his shirt almost subconsciously. Marinette wished she could see the hot blonde boy’s face. He seemed to hide it in the corner near the window. It was obvious he did not mind the confident blonde girl but without seeing his eyes Marinette could not determine if he enjoyed it. 

With the shake of her head, Marinette snapped out of her daze. It did not matter if he enjoyed it. It did not matter who they were, what they did, or why they did it. She didn’t know them so it certainly was not her business. Marinette floated to the counter debating if she really should have another coffee. She was so used to having late nights she was unsure of what the caffeine protocol was when there was a possibility of sleep. The barista, Tim, cocked his head a little. 

“Are you confused?” Marinette just chuckled nervously. 

“Sorry, it’s just, I finished my work and I don’t know what to do.” Tim chuckled back. 

“Well typically people relax. Or go home.” Marinette nodded. 

“Home isn’t as relaxing as here.” Tim just smiled. 

“Well I can understand that. I’ll make you a cup of peppermint hot chocolate. Caffeine isn’t good for sleeping.” He turned around without another word and carried out his task. Marinette didn’t dare question him. Other people knew better how to do “normal” than she. While she waited, her eyes wandered back to the blonde pair in the corner near the window. She still couldn’t see the blonde boy’s face. She found herself wishing that the blonde girl would leave. Marinette laughed to herself. 

Leave it to her to get attached to people she didn’t even know. She thought about saying hello to the boy. There was a certain comradery there. They always saw each other sitting in their respective seats and Marinette always daydreamed about him when she had the time. But Marinette wasn’t good with strangers and she especially wasn’t good with hot strangers. Alya would probably laugh if she heard what Marinette was thinking. 

“Girl,” she would say. “That’s literally your job, to deal with hot strangers.” But most of the people she worked with weren’t really strangers. Most of the models she worked with were the same to the point where she kind of felt like she knew them all. And she understood it. They had impossible standards to meet and incredible pressure. They were concerned about doing their job and doing it right. It wasn’t their fault it required them to be obsessed with their image. Maybe a little too obsessed. 

“One peppermint hot chocolate for Marinette.” There she was, daydreaming again. She went to grab her drink when her phone started ringing. Her boss. 

“Hello?” She thanked Tim silently and picked her drink up from the counter. 

“Marinette!? Where the hell are you? Your deadline was fifteen minutes ago?” 

“What are you talking about Audrey?” 

“The lingerie line! The one we were presenting to Gabriel Agreste next month? Don’t tell me you forgot?” 

“Of course not Mrs. Bourgeois, I gave it to my assistant yesterday to send to you this morning.” 

“Well, its not here!” Marinette sighed. 

“I’m coming. I’ll be there in just a minute.” She hung up the phone and hurried to her corner gathering her things. Another restless night. Same shit, different day. … 

“So Adrien, did hear about the line my mother is doing for your father?” Adrien took a sip of his coffee. 

“No, what is it Chloe?” That was lie but it was best to just let her talk. 

“It’s a lingerie line. Mother says if I lose a few inches around the waist I might get to model one of the designs at the launch party in a few weeks. Isn’t that great?” “

Chloe you don’t need to lose a few inches around the waist. You look fine the way you are.” Chloe rolled her eyes. 

“You know for someone in the industry you seem to know nothing about fashion. Women need to be at least a size zero to look good in anything. Anyone who knows anything knows that.”

“Then maybe designers should make things that actually look good on normal people.” Chloe sighed. 

“You could try being at least a little bit supportive Adrien.”

 “I am!” Adrien protested.

 “No you’re complaining again about how unfair life is. ‘Woe is me, my father is a world famous designer and all his designs are so exclusive, the humanity’!” Chloe mocked Adrien, a hand to her forehead in fake distress. 

“Now who’s not being supportive?” 

“Whatever. I have to go. Try not to mope to much while I’m gone, You’ll get worry lines.” Chloe ruffled Adrien’s hair as she walked away. Adrien sighed. He looked to the opposite corner and saw that Marinette was gone. He knew her but she didn’t seem to know him so he felt awkward saying hi. He knew that she designed for Chloe’s Mom. His father spoke highly of her. He even commissioned that lingerie line from Marinette herself. Not that he would tell Chloe that. It was obvious that she was too wrapped up in her own little world to think much of anyone outside her bubble. 

Adrien checked his phone. 

1 New Message. 

DJ Bubbler: Dude you have to come over, I found a black cat on my patio and I don’t know what to do with it! 

Adrien laughed. Same shit, different day.