#the whole image just appeared in my mind and i knew i had to draw it

[nesonkin]

idk man

[wandaslovey]

𝚑𝚘𝚠 𝚌𝚊𝚗 𝚒𝚝 𝚋𝚎 𝚋𝚊𝚍 𝚠𝚑𝚎𝚗 𝚒𝚝 𝚏𝚎𝚎𝚕𝚜 𝚜𝚘 𝚐𝚘𝚘𝚍?

➺ pastors!wife!wanda x fem!reader

wc ~ 3.8k

a/n: part 2 of my “when two wrongs make a right” series. it’s based around their first time meeting. fair warning my lovey’s - this part of the series may seem a little slow in the beginning. i really wanted to build a little background for both the reader and wanda. let me know what sort of things you’d like to see from these two cuties and i’ll try and incorporate them in the coming parts :)

*not proofread*

cw: mentions of an unspecified religion, religious homophobia as well as a bit of internalized homophobia, light undertones of infidelity/cheating, specified age gap (r=20, w=32), smoking cigarettes, reader being a bit of a stalker, wanda being a massive, shameless flirt and bold with a capital B.

⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘ ୨♡୧ ⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘

it had been over a month since you moved with your parents to a small town in georgia. they said it was on account of a “fresh start” but you had a gut feeling it was really just because your mother wanted to officially separate your father from mrs. stacey—your old neighbor. your dad never came clean about his affair, but it didn’t matter because your mom wasn’t stupid. mrs. stacey and your father weren’t exactly good at keeping things secretive. whatever. you didn’t care. as far as you were concerned, neither of your parents truly cared about much, including their marriage and including you. they were obsessed with their image, wanting to be the perfect cookie cutter, church-going family. it was all about pretenses. it didn’t matter what was going on behind the mirror because the perfectly angled reflection was all people saw of them.

you had planned for things to be different for yourself once you moved here. for one thing, you didn’t want to be a “church-going girl” anymore. after all, everything that was said only made you have more questions. on top of that, you were supposedly a sinner on account of not being attracted to boys. why would you wanna be some place where people wouldn’t accept you if they knew?

your plans turned to squash when the first sunday you tried to tell your parents, it ended up being an enormous deal—your mom sobbing crying that you were trying to “sever your relationship with god.” you tried to console her for a few minutes, but the more you pushed not to go to the church service, the more upset the both of your parents became. to keep the peace and to quit hearing your mother’s nonsense, you bit the bullet and decided to go.

the whole way to the chapel, you planned in your head exactly what you would say the next time this conversation came up. you were 20 years old. you weren’t going to let your parents dictate whether you wanted to participate in religion or not.

as the three of you arrived to the church, you filed in with the rest of the congregation. you kept your head down, not wanting to draw any attention to yourself. it wasn’t until the pastor began his sermon and invited his wife onto the stand that the fake conversation going on with your parents in your head came to an abrupt stop.

holy sh— you thought to yourself.

you see her for the first time. mrs. maximoff. wanda. you’d learned her name once she’d announced it over the pulpit. she radiated an air of confidence and a surety in herself. you tried to commit every detail of her to memory. her southern accent, the way she spoke, her laugh, her hair, her eyes, her lips, her pretty figure, her well-manicured hands that you could see even from your spot down in the congregation..

from then on, you were infatuated with the pastors wife. there was something about her. something that went beyond her stunning outward appearance. you couldn’t put your finger on what it was, but you didn’t mind observing her for however long was necessary to figure it out. you had a penchant for observation after all.

•

five weeks had gone by, this sunday being the sixth time you get to obsess over wanda in person. your thoughts about the pastors wife had you feeling a little nervous, your tummy filling with butterflies as you think about her. technically, it was wrong to think of another woman this way—right? that’s what you’ve been told your whole life. and on top of that, she was married.

oh to hell with it. it’s not like anything would come of it.

as you stand in the mirror, fussing with your sunday dress, you can’t help but look over yourself once, twice, three times before you finally turn away from your own reflection. the longer you looked, the more flaws seemed to appear, so instead, you take a cigarette out of its hiding place—under the floorboards at the end of your bed—and begin your typical “smoking secretly out the window” ritual.

you needed something to help calm your nerves before you headed to church. especially because today they were doing something called a “linger longer” after the service. it was meant for people to take the opportunity to socialize and eat some finger food after being “spiritually fed.” you didn’t know what that meant, but all you cared about was getting more time to observe the beautiful mrs. maximoff. you very quickly noticed she was quite popular within the church community. she talked with everyone. she was always so spritely and positive—you wondered if it was as genuine as it seemed. not that you would know any time soon. you always left before she could make the rounds to talk to you.

you quickly put your cigarette out in the ash tray and stow it back in its hiding place before looking yourself over one more time and then heading to the church service.

•

wanda noticed you the very first sunday you sat in the pews. she never missed a new couple or family coming in to join their congregation. it was her duty as the pastors wife to get to know everyone. she didn’t mind it either. like a true extrovert, she thrived off of interacting with other people—so to say she was a tad disappointed when she noticed you duck out right after the service before she could introduce herself to you—was an understatement. she met your parents of course who seemed nice enough, but she wanted to meet the pretty girl whom she caught staring at her quite a few times.

every sunday from then on was much the same, she’d catch you staring at her off and on throughout the service. each time she couldn’t help but smirk to herself, wondering what you were thinking in that head of yours. she was instantly intrigued by your behavior and even more so intrigued by the draw she seemed to have to you. without meaning to, she started trying to draw a picture in her head of what type of woman you might be. you seemed reserved yet polite, sweet yet stubborn and bold yet sometimes bashful, especially when she caught you looking at her. you were deliciously difficult for her to figure out and that’s why this sunday, she had made up her mind she was going to pin you down at the linger longer.

•

today was the first time you listened to a sermon and wished it stretched on a little longer. mrs. maximoff was speaking, preaching about the importance of charity. you didn’t disagree with her of course, but it wasn’t so much what she was saying, it was how she said it. you quickly became partial with how she spoke. it was like her tone indicated that everything she said was factual and not up for debate. you admired that quality in her—her ability to speak so profoundly.

she wrapped up her speech and then took her place to sing in the choir for the closing song. your eyes remained on her the whole time. while you couldn’t exactly pick out her individual voice from the bunch, you were sure her singing was the best.

as people filed out of the chapel and out onto the vast lawn that surrounded the church building, you take a moment to admire your surroundings. georgia really was beautiful—very humid, but still beautiful. the lawn was littered with white folding chairs and circular tables with some pink, orange and yellow wildflowers as the center pieces. the colors contrasted beautifully against the long, overgrown green grass and the brilliant blue sky above.

you quickly made your way over to the long rectangle table with food. if there was one thing you learned from being an observant person, it’s that you looked less awkward not socializing if you had a small plate of food in your hand. it wasn’t that you were necessarily anti-social or hated interacting with others, you just didn’t like talking with people who were typically on their moral high-horses.

you exchange pleasantries with a small family who, like you, made a beeline for the food table. you don’t pay much attention to what you put on your flimsy paper plate; some sort of meat kabob, fresh fruit and boiled peanuts. you’d never had boiled peanuts before, but apparently it was one of the food staples of georgia.

turning away from the table, you scan the small groups of people and notice how a lot of them don’t even bother to take a seat at the tables. most people choose to stand in the more open part of the field and chat. you didn’t have to look through the herds of people for long before your eyes land on wanda. she had her head thrown back, laughing at something one of the ladies from the choir had said. her laughter carried through the light breeze that was currently blowing. the sound instantly became one of your favorites to hear.

god, what was wrong with you? you had never become so quickly obsessed with someone before. not even close. the closest thing you could think of was that massive crush you had on sally miller in the 9th grade. still.. that didn’t compare to this.

you begin walking through the cluster of tables, your eyes glancing from her to looking at where you’re walking and then back to her again.

the next 30 minutes was much the same. you briefly sat down at a table, but once more people came to sit with you, you quickly offered your seat up to the last member of a larger family so nobody had to be separated.

no matter where you sat, stood, or walked, your eyes never strayed far from wanda. that was until a kind, middle aged woman came over to talk with you. she was kind enough, asking questions about you and your parents. she seemed genuinely interested in your life, and for that you were happy to talk with her. you learned she had been married for 10 years and her and her husband had been trying for a baby for awhile now, but had run into so many complications. you sympathized with her, understanding that it must be very difficult for something you want so badly to be so painstaking to achieve.

it wasn’t until you exchanged farewells and she moved onto the next person to talk to, that you noticed wanda no longer stood where she was before. in fact, she wasn’t anywhere in the several crowds of people you skimmed through. did she leave? you squint your eyes, focusing in on any short blonde hair you could see in front of you from the place you stood.

“hi there.” you hear drawled out from behind you.

oh my god.

you slowly turn, your eyes falling on none other than mrs. maximoff. you quickly compose the brief surprise that passed over your face.

“mrs. maximoff.” you swallow and tuck some hair behind your ear, offering her a polite smile to mask the squinty expression you had before. had she realized you were looking for her? you hope not..

“oh please, calling me mrs. maximoff makes me feel so old! call me wanda.” she outstretches her arm to shake your hand which you take only after a moments hesitance.

“wanda,” you repeat, your smile growing as you feel her gently squeeze your hand before letting go.

“this is usually the part where you tell me your name, honey.” she smiles amusedly, already thoroughly enjoying this interaction.

“i’m… (y/n), (y/n) (y/l/n).”

“lovely to finally meet you, miss (y/n).” she appraises you, looking you up and down in your cute floral patterned dress. your stomach flutters as you notice her eyes lingering on your figure.

“i met your parents a few weeks ago, but i never got the chance to say hi to you. anyway, i’m real glad we’re finally getting to talk now.” her eyes subtly scan over your features, taking in your pretty eyes, cute nose and full pouty lips. she even noticed the light spackle of freckles across your cheeks and bridge of your nose. she wondered if those freckles were there year round or just for the summer.

“yeah, i um.. i’m not usually one for socializing.” you admit, clasping your hands together in front of you. one of your fingers fiddle with the ring on your left thumb, twisting it around.

“so, (y/n), i have a confession to make.” she blurts, the implication behind her pronouncement making your more on alert. she runs her hand through her perfectly kempt hair before resting it on her hip, trying to appear more casual—though this conversation was rapidly feeling less so.

“oh?” you ask curiously.

“well, it’s just that i’ve noticed you looking at me a fair amount on sunday’s—when i’m at the microphone, singing in the choir, sitting in the pews…but then you never come and talk to me. am i so frightenin’?”

your eyes widen in surprise. you knew you weren’t exactly subtle with your spared “glances,” but was it that obvious?

“what? no, no, no, it’s not that. not that at all. it’s just—well i..” the way she asks has you stumbling over your words. you never meant to offend her. it wasn’t that she was frightening, you just had no idea what to say to her.

she makes an attempt to mask her amusement but can’t help it with your stuttered response. a smile eventually breaks across her face and she chuckles lightly at your trying to explain, finding it endearing.

“oh, i’m just messing with you, sweet thing. no need to get all tongue tied.” her smile was amused and her eyes twinkle with playfulness as she reaches out to touch your shoulder. the action was meant to be placating, but it did nothing more than make you feel more flustered.

“tell me more about yourself.” she says it more as a command than a question, changing the subject and sparing you further embarrassment. you’re grateful for the change in tone regardless of its abruptness.

you shrug, unsure where to begin exactly, but you quickly found yourself wanting to tell this woman everything about you. “well, what would you like to know?”

“what does a cute thing like you get up to?what’re some of your hobbies?” her what appeared to be shameless flirting, surprised you. you mentally kick yourself, thinking she couldn’t possibly be flirting. it was probably just a southern thing they did here…

it was against “god’s plan” to have same sex relations of any kind. that included flirting, didn’t it? and she was married to the pastor for christ’s sake.

although.. at church you did notice that the two of them never seemed to be near to each other at all.. no. you were reading into things. this was just her being polite.

“umm, well, i guess i like to read? mostly fantasy. i’m kind of a closet nerd. i like doing things that are creative, so i’ve been teaching myself to paint and i also make string bracelets or anklets sometimes.. you know, it terms of creative things, um..” you trail off, your hand rubbing the back of your head as you draw a blank. why couldn’t you remember your own hobbies? you weren’t normally so easily flustered or stuttering over your words, but wanda’s confidence and boldness brought out a bashfulness in you that you didn’t even know existed.

she listens intently to your response, nodding encouragingly and she remains silent in your pause to find your words. she wanted to know you better and she could be as patient as was necessary.

“i also like to write.. poetry mostly. i don’t often sit down to do it, but i always enjoy when i do. um, i also love going on walks, listening to music… oh! i love rollercoasters. rollercoasters are probably one of my favorites things.” the longer you talked about what you enjoyed, the looser, less nervous you felt. wanda could see your soft shyness dissipating the more you shared. you light up in a way when you speak, your passion for your interests shining through with your facial expressions and hand movements.

“oh my—rollercoasters? you’re just a little adrenaline junkie, aren’t you?” she teases with a warm smile, her nose scrunching in the most adorable way.

“i wouldn’t go that far, but i do enjoy a good thrill,” you keep your tone light-hearted, mirroring her tone and her smile. her gentle teasing and close attention to you was beginning to make you feel light headed with giddiness.

“what about you, wanda? what do you like to do?” you take a step closer to her, your arm reaching across your chest to grab the other as you continue to feel at ease in her presence.

“anything, really. i like to change things up, keep life interesting. if there’s something new i want to partake in, i seldom hold back from trying it out.” her eyes shine with something you can’t quite put your finger on. you couldn’t help but feel there might be a double meaning to her words, but you could also just be reading into things again. hard to know for sure as you notice her eyes flick up and down your body for the second time since this conversation started.

the two of you continue talking for what only felt like minutes. you barely notice the other people around beginning to clean up food, tables and chairs. it wasn’t until most things had been cleared away that you realize just how long you’ve been standing here talking—nearly a half hour.

“well, i guess i should be letting you get back to the rest of your day,” she sighs, her shoulder raising and lowering with the action. you frown slightly, not wanting your time with her to come to an end. wanda notices of course because just like you were with her, she was paying an awful lot of attention to you.

“yeah.. yeah i guess so.” you nod in agreement, but feel anything but a desire to part from her in this moment.

“hey,” her hand reaches up and gently squeezes your shoulder, her hand lingering there. you feel your heart begin to beat faster, a warmth spreading in your chest.

“can you sing?” she asks randomly. you clear your throat, the sudden question taking you off guard.

“umm.. i’m sorry?” you ask stupidly.

“sing - can you sing?” she reiterates.

“well.. yeah a little, but w-“ she cuts you off.

“perfect! it’s settled then. you’ll join our choir!” her voice is cheery sounding, but the suggestion she made to join didn’t leave much room for discussion.

“i will?” you look at her in slight disbelief, though a smile was also tugging at the corner of your lips.

“mhmm, i don’t see why not. you want to spend more time with me, don’t you?” her boldness was astonishing. you couldn’t decide if you found it endearing, intimidating or sexy.. possibly a combo of the three. she had to be flirting. you finally decided.

“if i say yes, then..?” you trail off, neither confirming nor denying her claim.

“if you say yes then you’ll be nothin’ but honest, and you wanna be honest with me, don’t you (y/n)?” she raises her brows inquisitively, the hand that was still lingering at your upper arm squeezing again.

“that’s very bold of you to assume.” you challenge, your normal wit finally coming out to play. you couldn’t help it. her insistence on being so unabashed and teasing was rubbing off on you.

“well i have eyes, don’t i? believe it or not, i put ‘em to good use.” she drops her hand from your arm and crosses her arms over her chest.

“i noticed.” you purse your lips, your eyes dancing with playfulness as you hint at the fact you’ve caught her looking you up and down a couple times.

she smiles wide at your matching her energy, but she couldn’t help but want the upper hand back, no matter how much she was enjoying this new side of yourself.

“i won’t apologize for gawking at a pretty, young thing like you.” she smiles triumphantly when she notices your dignified posture slump slightly, the most delicate blush coloring your cheeks.

“you don’t have to apologize,” you say quietly, your words surprising you as you say them aloud instead of just in your mind. you look down and off to the side, wanting to hide the heat spreading across your cheeks.

“well we should both get goin’, but choir practice is every tuesday and thursday at 7pm. i wanna see you there, (y/n).” she reaches up presses her palm against your cheek so you’re looking at her again. she locks eyes with you with an edge of what appears to be sternness.

you nod slowly, captivating in her stare. she smiles, pleased and then drops her hand from your face.

“great, i’ll see you then, sweetheart.” she taps your nose affectionately, before turning on her heel and walking away. you watch her figure retreat to the parking lot, your head spinning a bit as your interaction played through your head.

•

as you arrive home late that afternoon, you can’t fight the smile that kept spreading across your face or the butterflies that never seemed to stop fluttering around in your stomach.

when you lay in bed at night to go to sleep, your conversation with wanda kept going through your head. you wondered what it all meant. she had to be flirting—but it was that very fact that had you confused. didn’t she herself subscribe to the belief that being gay was a sin? did she feel it was as wrong as the people in the church say it is? what would her husband think? what would he do if he found out about your conversation today?

the more you thought about it, the more unsettled you felt. before you could truly start to spiral though, you remember wanda’s smile and her contagious laughter. you think to yourself how good it felt to be with her, how warm you felt inside and how at ease she made you feel after a short while.

how could something something so bad, feel so good?

[aspenscore]

Author: Aspenscore

Title: A Mania Of Joels

Creative Commons License: A Mania Of Joels © 2025 by Aspenscore is licensed under CC BY 4.0. To view a copy of this license, visit https://creativecommons.org/licenses/by/4.0/

Size: 384x512

(Really hoping the March 15 deadline includes March 15. I'm posting this before midnight on March 14 in my timezone, but it is already March 15 for Joel.)

Process TL;DR:

I've decided a group of Joels is called a mania.

My favourite part of Joel's season has been his many characters, as well as the Hermit Baths On Hermitcraft podcast, so I decided to combine those two things in this drawing.

This piece started as a bunch of sketches at work and took me about 20 hours to draw, plus an additional 8 hours fighting tech issues (including a crash that lost me the completed drawing (luckily I took this screenshot just before)).

Despite my struggles with that + screen rec software, there'll be a timelapse video of my drawing process coming soon on my channel!

Re: the title, I've decided a group of Joels is called a "mania" (like how a group of horses, for example, is a "herd").

One of my favourite things about Joel's season are all the fun intros and characters he's created, which inspired me to create something that showcases some of the main Joels we've met so far. I also really like the Hermit Baths On Hermitcraft (Another Podcast Hosted By A Straight White Male), so I figured the bathhouse would be the perfect place for a mania of Joels! I would've loved to include all the Joels, but by my count, there are at least 26 distinct Joels in this season so far, which is far too many Joels for me to fit in one image (and several of them are hard to distinguish based on appearance alone).

Since I could only include so many, I tried to choose Joels who are either recurring characters, or relevant to other things Joel has done in his videos. With that in mind, on this episode of Hermit Baths On Hermitcraft we've got Joel Who Asks You To Subscribe, News Reporter Joel, Bad Boy Joel (the statue counts as being in the season imo), Bartender (Horse Killer? :0) Joel, Officer Joel (RIP Detective Joel, would've loved to include him but it wouldn't be lore-accurate for him to be alive), Joel Who Totally Isn't Obsessed With Etho, Frogger Joel, Podcast Host Joel, and Singer Joel.

A few details I wanted to highlight:

News Reporter Joel always has a headline scroll bar with him. He doesn't know how or why. It's just there.

Joel Who Totally Isn't Obsessed With Etho not only has the Etho shirt on, but he's also in etho cosplay (headband) and has Etho face floaties (no idea where that came from but once I'd thought it I couldn't un-think it).

I'm most proud of Frogger Joel's outfit. He's got a froggy hat, frog crop top, lilypad shorts, and frog shoes with lilypad tops.

Singer Joel's kimono was originally going to have a pattern of symbols relating to Joel's season, but then I realized those wouldn't show up very well with the lowered resolution. The planned symbols included music discs, xp bottles, axolotls, slime balls, honeycomb, frogs, horses, glow squid, and glow berries.

Podcast Host Joel's abs are drawn on. Gem said it so it's canon.

Bartender Joel's vest is the same colour and pattern as that horse head...

And now for the process! I know a lot of you probably aren't that interested in it, but I spent a lot of time on this so I'd at least like to record my efforts.

This piece actually started on paper, because I work a lot and I knew I wouldn't have time to do the whole piece if I didn't at least do some advance planning during down time at my job. However, all I had at work was some scrap paper and a pencil (I couldn't even find an eraser the day I started this!), so I needed to find some way to get the aspect ratio correct without a ruler. While there were no rulers at work, I was able to find some mini origami paper, and since that's a perfect square, I was able to use it to replicate the sizing I'd chosen. I sketched out the general background layout, used two of those lines + the edge of another piece of paper to determine the vanishing point, then re-drew the rest of the background according to the point I'd determined. These techniques worked shockingly well, and when I scanned the drawing and checked my measurements in my drawing program, they were surprisingly accurate!

With the scan uploaded, along with a page of outfit design sketches I had also done at work, I ran into my next hurdle: screen recording software. To keep a long and agonizing story short, I draw on an old tablet that has very little storage, RAM, or processing power, so OBS + my drawing program were not an option. The drawing program itself doesn't have a timelapse feature either, so I had to go find another piece of software that would meet my needs. I even tried using my tablet as a third screen for my PC, which could absolutely handle the processing and storage needs of this project, but the latency was far too high for that to be a feasible option. Trying all of these options took at least 8 hours and at one point had the side effect of permanently messing up something on my main PC monitor that causes it to reset all its settings periodically (if anyone has any idea what's going on with that, I'd love to not have to re-do my settings every couple minutes or so).

My tablet's limited storage also resulted in me almost losing a portion of my footage, but you can rest assured that I've managed to save all of it, and if it's useable I will be editing it down into a timelapse + process video to upload to my channel! The video will probably include a lot of the information here, but hopefully it'll be a bit more interesting and engaging! (I was originally going to link the video here instead of writing all these paragraphs, but the drawing took so long I haven't had time to make the video).

Finally, after spending basically all of my free time at home during the past two weeks working on this drawing, I finished it just a couple hours ago.

I hit save.

And got an error message.

Storage issue.

Since the image resolution is intended to be reduced anyway (for minecraft painting, but also just how tumblr treats images), I grabbed a screenshot of the finished piece before my tablet crashed and rebooted. It saved some of my work, but not all of it, so this is now the only complete version of the piece in existence.

At the end of the day, I'm just glad I finished it on time and am happy with the final product. If you've read this far, thank you so much for your patience with my rambling, I hope you enjoy the final piece as much as I do. And thank you to Joel for creating such fun videos and awesome builds! I look forward to the rest of your first Hermitcraft season.

[narcissistcookbook]

I'm finally listening to Myth, and man. Your works always make me want to tell stories. I just wish I knew how to find the stories inside of myself. The most I seem to be able to do is leapfrog off an existing story, weaving frayed ends of canon into something that feels more complete to me and in conversation with itself, adding onto characters so they're more than just a 2d cutout.

Theres always these recurring themes that appear in what I've made, though. I know those must be what the stories rotting in my throat are about- I just don't know how to extract them.

I'll figure it out one day.

(Sorry for the long ask, the details just felt appropriate for these albums in particular.)

okay, well, maybe this will help

the album MYTH is a big hodgepodge of different influences. details below the break for people who don't want the album demystified

the core idea draws on the relatively contrived PR narrative surrounding Bon Iver's first album ('he's just a regular dude with a guitar who got broken up with and recorded an album in a cabin' ) and The Lost Songs Of St Kilda (a collection of lofi recordings of piano melodies written on the real life isolated island of St Kilda before it was cleared, performed by a dying man in assisted living who had learned them from his childhood piano teacher who had grown up on St Kilda)

the idea of being compelled to tell fairytales against your will is lifted heavily from Susanna Clarke's Jonathan Strange And Mr Norrell (in which a character is cursed to tell surreal fairytales whenever she tries to tell people a secret). i also found out after publishing it that a very similar fate befalls a character in the Sandman series although i've never read it

the idea of layered recordings with some kind of entity buried beneath the layers - this is getting into lore than isn't directly referenced on the album - is loosely based on the 1972 horror film The Stone Tape (where a ghost haunting a castle is revealed to be a 'recording' in the castle's stone walls of someone who died of fright - when they wipe the recording the ghost disappears, and is replaced by the even stranger and more frightening entity that scared her to death)

the layers commenting on and later conversing with each other is a trick i vaguely remember in House Of Leaves although i haven't read it since it came out

the islanders who have a cult-like relationship with a magical being is such a well-worn trope i shouldn't even need to reference it

Heavy Rain On Hot Tin Roofs is a reworking of a shitpost i wrote years earlier advertising a pub trivia night i run. it wasn't supposed to even be a story, the characters didn't exist in my head until years after i wrote it. i do wonder sometimes if the notion of writers experiencing their characters as real, living beings inside their minds is an unhelpful myth. a character is a magic trick you are playing on your audience, and the purpose of a magic trick isn't to fool yourself. a lot of writers won't find their characters as convincing as they want to because they know how the tricks they're pulling to make them seem real to everyone else

the fairytales themselves are told in fragments because that was all i had. i knew i wouldn't have time for whole stories so i skipped to the parts of the stories / images that resonated most with me - but also, writing traditional narratives isn't one of my strengths, and i knew fragments that tease the existence of longer stories would be more evocative than any full story i could write

these are only the examples i can think of off the top of my head

my point is, if you sit around waiting for your work to not feel derivative you're robbing a potential audience of your take on familiar ideas. the way ideas and settings and characters you've nicked from other places brew and stew in your mind is unique to you. no one steals like you do 💜

[anaszpan]

[ IMAGINE ] : You're Fili's daughter. During expedition, one night Kili tells you stories about Erebor and your mother, a brave warrior. (she died)

[ A/N ] : The photos / gifs do not belong to me. I do not claim any copyright to them and do not own any. /// English is not my native language. Don't hesitate to use this idea in your story. Freya GIF src: [x] / Fiili GIF src: [x]

[ ( ´ ꒳ ` ) ♡ ] : As the stars flickered above like jewels scattered across a deep blue tapestry, I settled around the fire with Kili. The warmth of the flames cast a cozy glow, and the crackling embers danced with the night’s gentle breeze. Kili leaned back against a fallen log, his eyes twinkling with mischief, ready to spin tales that only a true son of Durin could tell.

“Did I ever tell you,” he began, a grin spreading across his face, “about the time your mother faced down a pack of wargs all by herself?” I shook my head, eager for his stories. I adored hearing about my mother — a fierce warrior and, surprisingly, a woman of great humor.

“Ah, yes,” he continued, “it was a dark night much like this one. Your mother had been out scouting for a place to camp when, wouldn't you know it, she stumbled upon a whole family of wargs! Big, hulking beasts with teeth like… well, let’s just say they could take a hearty bite out of a dwarf!”

Kili paused for effect, widening his eyes dramatically. “Now, most would have turned tail and run. But not your mother. Oh no! She gripped her sword, called them some rather unfortunate names, and said, ‘You might want to think twice before challenging a daughter of Durin!’”

The flames crackled loudly, as if in agreement with Kili’s animated retelling. I could almost see my mother’s fierce determination reflected in his eyes.

“What happened next?” I urged, completely immersed in the tale.

Kili chuckled, his voice rife with admiration. “Those wargs, I tell you, they didn’t know what hit them! With a battle cry that could wake the dead, she charged at them. The aplha warg lunged at her, jaws wide. But your mother — bless her heart — sidestepped expertly, and with one swift slice, she drew her blade across its snout! The others hesitated, and before they knew it, she was a whirlwind of fury, dodging and striking as if she were dancing!"

I gasped, picturing the scene vividly in my mind. “And the others?” I asked, eager to know how the story unfolded.

“Ah, that was the fun part!” Kili laughed, leaning forward as if to draw me deeper into the excitement. I couldn't help but chuckle at the image Kili painted—a fierce vision of my mother, standing defiantly against the snarling beasts. He continued, his voice rising in excitement, “They looked at her like she was mad! But she mustered every ounce of courage and charged right in. A true daughter of the mountain, she was!”

I could almost see the scene unfolding—the night filled with the sounds of battle, the clash of metal against fang, and my mother’s fierce shouts ringing through the air.

“She sent them running, howling back to whatever dark corners they came from,” Kili finished with a flourish. “And when she returned to camp, her hair was a glorious mess, with leaves and twigs stuck in it like a crown.”

I laughed, picturing my mother’s triumphant return, her laughter mingling with the night’s sounds, proudly recounting her adventure, oblivious to her disheveled appearance. “And what did she say afterward?” I asked, leaning in, captivated.

“Ah, she merely shrugged, tossed her hair back, and said, ‘You should see the other fellow!’” Kili roared with laughter, and soon, I was laughing alongside him, the bond of shared stories warming my heart.

As the flames crackled and popped, casting flickering shadows around us, I felt an overpowering sense of pride swell within my chest. Kili’s stories never failed to remind me of the strength and courage that ran deep within my lineage, a tapestry woven with bravery and humor, much like the night sky above us, filled with countless tales just waiting to be told.

As the fire crackled and the stars twinkled, Kili continued to weave tales of my mother’s conquests and escapades. Each story painted a picture of a brave, strong, and surprisingly humorous warrior, revealing bits of her personality that I had always admired but never fully understood.

Eventually, Kili’s voice softened, and he looked up at the stars. “Your mother was more than just a warrior. She believed laughter is just as powerful as any sword. She taught me that sometimes, the greatest victories are won with a quick wit and a sharp tongue.”

Feeling cozy and content, I smiled. “I hope one day to be as brave and clever as she is!”

Kili turned and ruffled my hair. “You already are, lass! And I expect nothing less from a daughter of my brother!"

[kairiscorner]

Helloo, can I request Miguel with an artist reader who draws him a lot? 👉👈 Like the reader has a secret crush on Miguel and he inspires them a lot, without even knowing it. And maybe there's a Gwen-and-Miles-like-situation where Miguel by accident discovers the drawings of him in their sketchbook?

AAAAAAAA ANON THIS IS SO CUTE !! tbh i wanted to finish the miggy fic i had for ate @binibinileonara bc i wanted to connect these two together, BUT I COULDN'T RESIST, I'LL MAKE IT SEPARATE BC WHY NOT !! thank you for the lovely idea btw (i also had an idea like this actually in my notes) THANKS FOR GIVING ME THE OOMPH TO DO IT !!

(reblogs are greatly appreciated, it helps get my content out there! if you guys like what you see, please reblog it too <:D)

you always had this desire to capture all that interested you in its full beauty, in its unbridled greatness. that was, to you, the essence of all your art pieces; they always reflected how you saw the world, how you saw nature, how you saw people.

you never believed people had one or two faces to them, you believed people were multi-faceted, that every person was a kaleidoscope of beauty, skills, quirks, flaws, fears, hopes, and dreams. you loved capturing every bit of people who intrigued you the best you could, and you hoped that if you stood back and admired the big picture that was them, going over the details and fibers that made each person their own–from the good, bad, pretty and ugly details–you would finally see the whole, uncut image of the person you were illustrating; who you were painting in the colors you saw them in, the colors that stuck with you and filled the empty canvas of your mind with all sorts of shapes and splotches of hues and shades that formed the image of them when their name would come to mind.

and for some reason... that person to you right now was miguel o'hara. you had a lot of things to say about him, even words that many would argue don't exist. you felt a myriad of feelings when you were around miguel, and you knew there was more than just the dictating leader miguel that everyone was familiar with. like all people, miguel, too, was an explosion of different kinds of colors to you–colors that only you could see, because when he was around you... he was more than just the cool, calm, and collected boss everyone saw him as.

he was much more caring, much more funny around you. his smile when you told him a funny story illuminated a bright yellow and a warm orange to you–his eyes would twinkle and you'd see the hazelnut brown in his eyes, and a shade of what appeared to be coffee brown at the bottom of his irises. he exuded a commanding aura, a dark, cool blue–but when paired with you, and only you, he exuded a bright red; a color of fiery passion, intimacy, and most of all... attraction.

he was the subject of your affections, you, the soulful and emotional artist that admired him and all that he was from afar and up close. you admired the way he held your hand when you were scared on a few missions, you admired how gently he held you when you two were caught between a rock and a hard place; and how soft and loving his eyes were when they gazed at you. you knew he might have felt a platonic kind of love for you, what with being so comfortable around you and all, but you felt a different kind of love for him–and you hated denying your creative side the indulgence of capturing him in all his beauty.

hence, you began slowly filling the empty spaces of your sketchbooks and notebooks, or whatever other papers lay around when inspiration struck you, with images of him and only him. you caught his face in moments where he was nonchalant, disappointed, angry, grumpy, and... smiling.

when you witnessed his smile for the first time when you met him, that image was burned into your retinas, into your mind, into your heart. you saw that smile from the minute you went to bed to the minute you woke up, the only thing that saddened you was that you could never hold that man who smiled at you and made your heart beat a little faster–you could only watch him and be with him at a distance. but art was the bridge between you two that'd close that distance you wanted to cover so, so badly.

you did, at times, believe what you were doing was... a little creepy. you refused to let anyone see your sketchbooks even before you drew him, and that was out of embarrassment at your drawings. but now, it was a new kind of embarrassment, a feeling adjacent to guilt and disgust at how nobody but he could fill your mind and have you wanting to keep him in your mind by feeding yourself, indulging yourself in putting him on paper and coloring him in; to be with him at a closer perspective than how you two were in the real world.

you had to admit it–seeing him constantly in your mind, wanting to let thoughts of him out on paper as you wanted to be through with imagining him, but knew you couldn't the more and more you portrayed him–it meant you... wanted him. you really, really loved him.

you knew nobody should know, nobody had to know about this little crush you had on miguel. you'd rather die than have someone peek at your sketchbook that was filled with all kinds of drawings of him. but unfortunately, the man himself bore witness to your caricatures and illustrations of him when you left your sketchbook at his office.

you ran as quickly as you could, praying he hadn't opened it out of curiosity. he was always asking you what you were up to, and you'd immediately shut your sketchbook and laugh awkwardly, claim you were merely doodling. you always left out the part that you were constantly drawing him, and only ever him; and now, he'd find out.

as you entered his office, scouring with your eyes for your sketchbook, a figure emerged from the darkness behind you and gave a slight cough. "this is yours, isn't it?" that low, fluid voice was none other than miguel's. you turned around in fear of what he was going to look like–would any of the faces you drew seeing him as be one of the faces you'd see?

to your surprise... no. he had a different, completely new face that you had never drawn him in; a flustered state. he was blushing, his angled cheeks and high nose bridge were covered in a pink-red hue–and he was grinning. he handed you the sketchbook with a now sheepish smile. "i'm sorry, i wasn't sure if it was yours. i had to... look through for a name. and, um... it was very–" he wanted to continue, but then, he saw you were on the verge of tears.

"i'm... sorry..." you muttered, feeling incredibly ashamed of yours and busted for having indulged in drawing him without him knowing. guilt stirred in your stomach and elicited tears to well up in your eyes. miguel smiled, and as his eyebrows curved upwards together to form a look of reassurance, he placed both hands on your shoulders.

"listen, you have a wonderful talent. i'm sorry if you don't hear that enough, but that changes today. i'm so... wow, i'm so flattered you thought i was good enough to be drawn that way. it feels... amazing, to know an artist sees me fit to be their, what would you call it?" he asked as he wiped a tear rolling down your cheek away from you.

"a... muse." you whispered, wiping the rest of your tears away. miguel chuckled. "right, a muse." he said as he inched closer to you, with the sweetest smile on his face. "i might sound really crazy right now, but... i want to be your muse. i really, really want to be your muse." he said, with emphasis on 'your'.

your face lightened up as the tears that welled up gave your eyes a glassy look, and you saw the blush on his deepen as you became more and more flustered. you smiled and wrapped your arms around his chest, pulling him in for an embrace you needed to release. "and i want to be your artist. only yours." you whispered, to which miguel reciprocated your hug. and it was here that you witnessed him in a new color, a pinkish, reddish hue that made you feel all kinds of happiness and excitement.

a love meant to be captured and painted in with bursts of emotion and care for one another.

a/n: I'M SO SORRY IF IT DIDN'T COME OUT THAT WELL NGL I MADE THIS A LITTLE RUSHED 😭😭😭 BUT I LOVE MIGGY HERE PLSSS AND I HOPE Y'ALL LOVE HIM HERE, TOO <333

tags !! @thecoolerdor @miguelswifey04 @binibinileonara @luvstarrstruck

[mxtantrights]

Helion tells the reader the truth

"I promised your mother I would protect you. And I admit I haven't been forthcoming about certain things, but never have I put you in danger." Helion says.

"It's okay, but you have to explain it to me. What if I end up putting myself in danger because I don't know?" you ask.

Helion scoffs, "You weren't in any danger until you started looking for the truth. Which is fully my fault for not telling you what I know."

"Which is..." you trail off.

Hélions gestures for you to take a seat. You take the one across from him. The table in front of you is set for tea for you doubt the both of you will be touching those cups.

"It started just before she-Amarantha- took over. For a couple of nights I could hear you screaming in your sleep. Then came the drawings. Over and over the same image. An eye enclasped in a ring,

"When she took control, you started sleep walking. By then we were under the mountain already. Held in captivity."

"I don't remember any of that." you comment.

"You wouldn't. I took all of your memories from that time." he answers.

You look at him confused, "Why?"

"Because of Amarantha. She appeared one day in my cell with you bound in rope. Claiming that you were an unpredictable obstacle." he says.

"I don't understand. My powers aren't as powerful as yours. What made me threat in her eyes?" you ask.

Helion shakes his head, "To this day I don't now. We won't ever know since she's dead and your memories are gone. But I know that she was scared of you."

"So you wiped my mind so she couldn't find out?" you ask again.

"No, I wiped your mind because she asked me to. She knew exactly why she was scared of you. She came in that night, dragging your almost lifeless body into my cell."

"What?" you murmur.

"I had a choice, and I chose to take away whatever information she and by extension you, found out that night." he answers.

You launch out of your chair. Tears in your eyes. Because you understand what he's saying. But it also means something else. Something even scarier.

"And when you got free from under the mountain, you wiped it again. To make me forget the whole thing." you whisper.

Helion bows his head in shame. You let out a dry laugh.

"If she wanted to, she could have killed me. And you wouldn't have found out until you were free!" you shout.

He finally picks his head up. He calls out your name. But you can't quite tamper down the rage you feel inside of your chest. Your breathing ragged, you can't catch your breath.

"You're bright."

"What?"

"Look at your chest, it's glowing."

[itmeansiris]

The Solar System Legacy Challenge: Answers Gen 1 pt.70

Takara's office was buzzing with enegry when M arrived. She stopped at the front desk instantly recongizing the long term receptionist.

M: Hi Renee. How have you been?

Renee: Mercury Hi! It's so nice to see you. It's been too long since you've come by. I'm good. How are you?

M smiled genuinely, she had always liked Renee. She was a sweet girl who you could usually find sketching. M had been honored to receive one of herself a few years back when Renee had been just an intern.

M: I'm good, thanks. I'm here to see Takara.

Renee: She's been waiting for you. She's just finishing up with a meeting. Do you want to wait in her office?

Before M could decline. Takara appeared.

Takara: Mercury.

Old fashioned but customary with Tomarang elders, M bowed when she greeted Takara.

M: Takara, hi.

Takara: Stop that M. You look tired.

Takara chastised her earnestly.

M: I didn't sleep well.

Takara: I can imagine. I saw the photos.

Mercury fidgets unable to quell her frayed nerves.

M: Yeah, I've seen them.

She responds dejectedly.

Takaras' demeanor softens. She sighed heavily and pulled Mercury in for a hug. M tightly embraced the middle-aged woman she had known all her adult life, drawing comfort from the contact.

Takara: Come.

They take the short walk to Takara's office. She takes a seat behind her desk but M stands.

Takara: Why didn't you call me as soon as you saw them?

M looked away slightly embarrassed by the whole ordeal. She had prayed that Takara was calling to discuss the book but had suspected otherwise.

M: Is this what you wanted to talk about?

Takara: Look. Who is this?

She turned around to inspect the photo on the screen and her temper flared.

M: Paris. How do you know her?

She practically hissed through clinched teeth.

Takara: I don't, but after I saw those photos I had my people do some digging. The images led back to this girl. She not only took them but was also the one who posted them from an anonymous page. Stupid girl doesn't know how to clean up behind herself. She didn't even get rid of the originals online properly. Guess she thought deleting them meant they were gone forever. How naive.

M: Okay. So Paris took the pictures. She's friends with Madison and Madison is seeing Kason. Are we all caught up? This doesn't change anything, He was still there. With her!

She could feel that anger she had been worried about rising, as she drew the conclusion that Takara was defending Kason.

Takara calmly responds.

Takara: Yes, he was there. With me.

M: With.. you?

Takara: Yes, with me.

Takara tapped a few keys and pulled up her emails. She scrolls for a while before stopping on an email thread that is addressed to Kason. She opened the email and scrolls to the top allowing M to read each email in its entirety. Then she opened a web browser and pulls up The Sims Daily from a week prior. In the Recent neighborhood stories section are images of Kason, Takara and Madison all at the cafe. Next to it was the usual celebrity sighting story of Takara and Husband of bestselling author Mercury Gratz eating at the local cafe.

M felt her world shift back into place. The relief she felt overwhelmed her and she went to take a seat, unsure her legs would continue to support her.

Takara: You see. Our little red-haired friend conveniently left yours truly out of the photos. Kason was helping Madison's club host an event, for you.

M: Why didn't he just tell me?

Takara: Me again. I swore him to secrecy.

M smiled to herself. She knew what it meant to be sworn to secrecy by Takara. It was like taking a blood oath.

Takara: Guess he took it pretty serious. Kid's got guts holding out like that when someone tried to take advantage. Shows how much faith he has in your trust in him.

The relief instantly turns to guilt. It plagued her mind with doubt and regret.

M: (Did I believe him? Will he forgive me? Does he hate me? I called him a liar. How could I be so ungrateful?)

M: And Madison?

She asked instead. Trying to stay focused. Takara shook her head dismissing the implied question.

Takara: Trust me when I say that Madison means you no harm. If she was after anyone it would have been you, M. I promise you, nothing is going on. I wanted to talk about your book deadline but maybe that's enough for today. Go home, kiss and make up with your husband and get some rest. That's and order.

Brindelton Dog Park (While M is meeting with Takara)

Kason arrived at the dog park 5 minutes early. He unleashed Comet and set him free. The clouds were dark and gray. They danced across the sky, teasing with the threat of rain. He pulled his coat tightly around him, the cold and cloudy day adding to his already somber mood. He took a seat on the bench and waited.

Madison: Hey Kason. I don't have much time. What's up?

He stood, his body ridged.

Kason: What the hell is this Madison?

He asked his voice nearly a growl.

Madison: ....Paris.

She spoke her friend's name with resignation. That alone was an admission of guilt. Madison had planned to tell Kason about her friendship with Paris back when she'd gotten that confusing note the night of their meeting. She'd had a bad feeling and figured it was best to come clean before Kason found out on his own. Unfortunately, she'd gotten caught up the next couple of days calling and video chatting with Beckett and it had slipped her mind. Now it was too late.

Kason: Yes. Paris. Care to tell me how you know her?

Madison dropped her chin to her chest, her eyes were downcast in shame.

Madison: Kason, I'm so sorry. I was going to tell you.

Kason: Tell me what Madison?!

He barked, unable to contain his frustration any longer.

Madison: The truth is I knew who you were the day we met. Paris is my best friend. She put me up to saying hello.

Madison: At first I was just going to say hello and leave. I wasn't interested in Paris's game. Then you told me you were married to Mercury and...

Kason: And what? You started a game all your own? Mercury saw those. She thinks something is going on between us.

He replied in an accusatory tone as his eyes filled with disappointment.

Madison: I'm sorry! I told Paris to leave you alone months ago. When she called you after her business trip. I never wanted any-

Kason: You Knew about me for that long? You're as bad as your sick friend. I can't believe I trusted you.

Kason shook his head and turned to leave. He stopped a few paces away and called over his shoulder.

Kason: I'll tell Takara the event is cancelled.

Then he whistled for Comet and left.

Previous Next

Beginning

Poses

@elen-shine Top secret & Male emotions

@starrysimsie on the line

[fishy0bishy]

Mission upcoming

AN:after a minute of bringing up Mrs.Unamed and at one drawing I did of her and Merrit fighting reunited I wrote a little something leading up to that fight (long way of saying I wrote Merrit lore.)

also all of North’s crew is here! And Gilded!

Start of something bigger.

It was a cozy evening and Lizzy was wandering about and stumbling on Merrit in her lab making and testing some Filter soil but before doing or saying anything Merrit pauses and goes “Goggles and coat before doing anything in here”. 

Lizzy rolls her eyes and puts on the gear “what did ya parents told you to do the same thing beforehand?”

  Merrit smiles and nonchalantly goes “Nope never knew them. But my grandma and my other caretaker did” 

Merrit pointing at two photos on a bulletin board. One image is of two tiny elderly women, one a ferret and the other a possum. But the other photo is blurred by a drink spill stain but Lizzy could still make out ferrets one with creme colored fur and the other brown colored.

  Lizzy blinks at the photo and turns saying “wait what? You don’t seem like a person to have as trauma as everyone else on this ship.” Merrit exclaims and shakes her head

 “Woah woah it’s not like that. I just never knew them and I don’t mind it. All I know is that they’re space riders so I assumed they were always busy” 

“But wouldn’t you see them even when you became a space rider?”

“Someone is getting curious are we? You can ask poppy when we’re at HQ”

“We’ll I’m just say-“

Before the conversation (or questioning if you will) continues North interrupts by loudly knocking on the door and yells “Mission time! Suit up we got a big boss on our hands!” 

 Both Merrit and Lizzy look at the other and they go to the halls removing their Lab gear and Merrit going to her locker to change up and Lizzy leaving with north but a time skip and the whole crew is meeting up and discussing plans. the first to speak up is Zane “i heard we have a big boss what’s that about?” North smiles and leads by excitedly going “I found a lead with the cult and I’ve tracked down a High ranking member! There’s no photos of her, not a lot of information well except that she leads supply raids from our docks and only seen a total of 2 times within 22 years that she’s appeared and apparently there’s a urban legend about her!”

 “Woah she’s pretty tough and sneaky if there isn’t anything about her!” Jaz exclaims and stares at an artist rendition of the woman. A red cloaked figure with a twisted smile and crème colored ears sticking out the hood. But North nudges Lizzy’s shoulder and asks “Hey you were a high member ever seen them. If you don’t mind answering of course.” 

“A please would work but sure-“ Lizzy looks at the photo and her ears raise up and turns back to north pointing to the photo going “you do know who you’re dealing with? I dunno if the urban legend said something but she’s crazy scary. Even I didn’t get buddy buddy with her.”

They all stare at Lizzy till Zelda breaks the silence and tells North “what’s the legend about? Can’t be that bad.” 

“Well from what I gathered from Poppy apparently this lady used to be a space rider. A very honorable one as well. And she had a husband who’s was a medic in the crew she was in but he also disappeared but myth states they had a child but I couldn’t find anything on files dealing with Rider disappearances. Except the crew Zane’s mother was in. The room immediately goes quiet and they all give each other looks but Merrit speaks up “are we even qualified? Sure we are B+ rank but this woman is maybe a S rank cultist. And remember what happened with Gilded.” 

  Jaz teases Merrit and North by saying “oh the cultists that Merrit has the doki dokis for and the one who whooped North?”

 “Jaz this is serious.. but yeah you’re right…But let’s head out crew we don’t wanna lose track of this woman” “oh changing the subject so quick boss? Sunny remarks as the meeting ends with everyone nodding their heads and the crew leaving to their bikes flying to the upcoming red filled planet.Lizzy and Sparky waving bye waiting for their return. 

Meanwhile Mrs.Unamed with a treat left by a certain kitsune (cough cough @truelazymaker )

All Ocs Belomg to the listed!:

NorthHeat(@north-heats-stronghold) Lizzy and Sunny(@novalizinpeace) Jaz(@fanofanythingsblog)

Zelda and Sparky(@fandomssvetlanafrom) Zane(@moonspiritleaf) And finally Gilded(@qxurugosk)

And this Au Belongs to @onyxonline!

[theartsanityshoppe]

Zooms in here HI HI HI it feels like I'm sending this late lmao... I got mega swamped by work right after I rb'd the oc ask post :') ANYWAY I honestly love your guys so much your worlds are filled with so much personality and colour!!

For Flint once again (wym i am biased): 1+2, 6, 7, 10 (mostly just the first half), and 16!

I also wanna you a chance to go wild and ramble about some of your other guys, so these ones are for anyone of your choice!!

1, 2, 12, and 20!

KAFJGAKDFJGADFG THANK YOU ✨ SENPAI ✨ I say, being upwards to 10 years older than you lmao YOUR WORDS MEAN SO MUCH TO MEEEEEEEE [also what bias what are you talking about there's no clear biases for either of us, no, never.] This ended up HELLA long so I'm adding a cut here! [seriously this post got LONG - over 2300 words long hahaha whoops]

[For Flint!] What was the original thought that led to the creation of this character?

THIS IS LITERALLY MY FAVORITE STORY TO TELL SO BUCKLE UP KIDDOS EHEHEHEHEHEHEHEHEHEHE

To make a long story as short as possible haha I used to have nightmares wherein I was being chased by something, or someone, but never knew or saw what it was. A lot of these nightmares also had me running into family and other important people in my life and having them full out ignore my issues [a major problem I dealt with thanks to my health for a long time] and the 'story' of the dream would change... but somewhere, in the back of my mind, I still knew I was supposed to be 'escaping' something and if it caught me, it was really really bad. BUT usually I'd wake up before anything could happen anyway.

WELL ONE NIGHT I had one of these dreams and it was more...cinematic than anything else and I was BOOKIN' it, actively getting away from someone chasing me. It felt more like akin to maybe a cheap spy movie or something haha where I was running through tunnels and inside some secret building. Anyway, I find a ladder that goes up into a very tight/rounded tunnel straight up to the roof and I take that. As I'm climbing, I'm getting a sense of relief that I'm FINALLY getting away from whatever is chasing me and I'm trying to decide what to do next as I reach the top and go to open the trap door above me when suddenly it opens on its own from the outside and I'm blinded by a bright light.

As the light clears, I see none other than the Detective himself, who is just as surprised to see me as I am him, and I think to myself "Oh! Good! Maybe he's here to help me!" when, as if on cue, Flint gives me the BIGGEST shit eating grin ever [aka how I always tend to draw him ahah] and the very last thing I remember before waking up is thinking "OH MAYBE NOT." and boom. I was awake.

I couldn't get that dream out of my head for WEEKS and eventually just had to draw him!

2/6. [For Flint!] What was the first thing you decided on, the character's name, appearance, personality or their role in the story? / What was the thought process behind their appearance? Did you go mostly for the aesthetic or are there other reasons they look the way they do?

I'm merging these two since they answer each other! His design was basically finalized from the get go in that dream, minus maybe a detail or two. For example [and I wish I had access to the image but I'm not on my ipad] his first sketch had him wearing a weird X across his chest, maybe out of leather straps or something? But otherwise his outfit was basically 100% the same, I just made his jacket a bit more form fitting and the straps on his arms were more for looks than functionality like they are now. I think overall he was waaay skinnier [my old style] and his head was way more thin/oval than it is now.

But aside from that he basically just materialized to me in that dream as is. His GUNS on the other hand, I had to do research on and design myself akdfjgakdfjgadfkgj. [I took heavy inspo off of Vash's guns from Trigun] His personality also developed pretty quickly - at least the whole "him being a little shit" part did haha, otherwise he was originally supposed to be an assassin turned body guard for little Blossom, with Cy being a thief turned bodyguard for her as well, making them a sort of odd-couple style trio. Clearly that was all dropped, minus Cy being a thief lol. I believe I knew from the get go, however, that he'd be the "main" character, if I were to put him into one. Otherwise his name was 100% last as I routinely referred to him as "Flame head" for a very long time - in fact that's why Cy's called Cy hahaha it was short for Cyclops.

I'll try to remember to add the very first sketch I did of him to this when I get home tonight - it's even in color and everything.

7. [For Flint!] What is an aspect of their appearance that you like the most?

His giant grin hehehehe, but I'm a sucker for giant smiles like that, that can't physically fit on the characters face if they were real. Otherwise I've always loved his head in general - even if I tend to forget how I want to make his 'hair' flames look sometimes and they come out looking wonky to me, they're still my favorite. I just wish I had more confidence to try animating it haha

10. [For Flint!] What is their main character arc in the story? Where do they start and how do they develop? Do they get a happy ending or is their story a tragic one?

Ah man, so much ahahaha, they are THE main character after all! As for the storyline specific timeline... Idk yet haha I keep changing when and where the story will start IN his timeline. But I can say at the very least that I do plan on him having an arc of course - he starts off being very cocky, very headstrong/sure of himself, and quick to want to show off or show up someone else, and has actually less desire to actually help others without getting paid in return. It's only after he meets Lotti that he starts actually paying more attention to the clients themselves and less about the thrill or the excitement of the case.

His [very short recap cuz I wanna keep his story vague] backstory is basically he was abandoned as a kid [don't really have a specific age, but at least old enough to know that he was actively abandoned and hold resentment for it] and more or less just lived on the streets, stealing and fighting, getting into trouble and slowly but surely heading down a dark path of no return, before he happens to meet Detective Michelle [no surname atm] who, rather forcibly, takes Flint in and makes him her protege. He had no friends growing up, was rarely allowed anywhere and usually verbally and sometimes physically attacked because his flame head is unusual even for this world, and his bad attitude led him to starting fist fights at the slightest provocation. Not to mention literally no where used sign language and made communicating nearly impossible for him.

After Det. Michelle's death however, Flint had already grown up quite a lot and in a very Animal Crossing New Leaf way, accidentally got himself hired in Neo Oldesville as the new lead [and at the time only] Detective haha. [aka he just showed up one day to his mentors old office to store it up, and everyone thought he was the detective and he just accepted it haha]

From the start he's completely against friendships and bonds, and finds them weird - but as he starts actually helping people/being friendly to them, and they start sticking around/even learn sign language to communicate with him. Only then is when he starts to soften and eventually turn more into a big brother figure for most of his bonds. He does still have a hard time asking for help however and tends to do everything himself, a trait that follows him through the story and ends up nearly getting him killed at least once.

But Lotti, Blossom, Columbo+Bennie, Locke now, and even Cy are all vital to his growth as a character as for the first time through them he actually has a "family" - even if they are just friends. He slowly starts wanting to do better and be better not just for himself, but for them too.

I've been actively changing pieces though as I want his and Cy's story arcs to compliment each other but not be 100% the same, [the whole night/day thing I have going with them] and currently her arc is practically the same haha. So mostly she's been getting rewrites atm as well as her sisters, to try and balance it with his.

As he is the main character and I plan on making this story into games at some point, I can say at least for now, that his story has a happy ending, as I hope to make multiple games with him as the MC.

16. [For Flint!] Is there any memes or running jokes associated with the character, both in- and out of universe?

Man, I wish there were more hahaha. I mean, I think I had a one off gag I wanted to turn into the same style of comics I was doing last year in which Mr. Affogato learns that both Lotti and Flint are basically sluts haha. JK but the joke was they'd both absolutely go on dates with someone just to get free meals and nothing else.

Other than that, I guess the main running gag is NEVER LET FLINT DRIVE. Ever. You will arrive in pieces, on fire, and with only one tire left XD

As for in real life the current gag is this image, because I got a few car magnets made hehehe

A few of us now have this, including my friend who also works at the same place I do hehehehe. Weirdly I've learned everyone thought those were his feet, not his hands hahaha.

1, 2, 12, and 20 for anyone else!

I'mma keep it Neo Oldesville themed I think, and a bit shorter as this has gotten really long hahaha.

1/2. What was the original thought that led to the creation of this character? / How long was the process before the character reached its final version? (or a version that would be clearly recognizable as the character?)

I'm picking Cy for this one! Since she's supposed to be the deuterogamist to the story alongside Flint haha.

She, like Flint, actually came to me in a dream too! A different one, and she was a Prince in that one, but was still wearing a weirdly oversized, 1980s themed wind breaker jacket. But also had a rapier and kept trying to seduce me lol. She has gone through a lot of changes, at least outfit wise, and I am FINALLY happy with how she looks now. I cringe... when I look at her old outfit honestly hahaha I've almost been tempted to redo just her in some older images I still really love but just...hate how she looks.

I decided to keep the 80s vibes with her, which also played into her getting a yo-yo for a weapon and her roller skates. That and projection as I really really wish I could skate kjdfgkajd

As for her current color scheme, I worked hard to try and keep it more darker/night themed [even tho she has a lot of off white] and threw in the yellow line specifically for Flint, seeing as his design has a dark purple tie that almost matches her purple. tho..I mean technically Flint's outfit is even darker than hers, its just his head that's sun coded OTL. I did a TON of mock ups for her current design and went through trials and tribulations for picking her color scheme too lfjkgakdfg wish I knew where THOSE images were haha

12. Do you have a playlist for the character? What songs do you associate with them and why?

Also for Neo Oldesville! AND YES. WHY YES I DO. XD It's mostly my own person itunes playlist, as I don't do spotify and I haven't properly updated the youtube one I have, but Neo Oldesville has one over all that I adore listening too. Mostly it's Undertale/Deltarune, Sailor Moon, and Ace Attorney music hahahaha the funny thing is I've literally never played Undertale or Deltarune once. I just adore the music.

Some specifics tho - for Flint, Cy, Lotti, and Query only.

🔥For Flint my favorites for him are the following [with links to youtube]

Ace Attorney: Investigation ~ Cornered [his main theme honestly] Field of Hopes and Dreams [another main theme for him] Namachuukei 68 (X68000) - Game Over [honestly this whole soundtrack is fire for him] Tobashite Taxi Man · Yurie Kokubu [lyrically it doesn't fit him but I adore it and that's all that matters hahahahaha]

👁️For Cy, she has a lot less, mostly because I'd see her with more melancholic/slower songs, but ... I hate those ones hahahaha. I think currently all of hers are from Undertale hahahah!

Dummy! - Undertale [what plays in my head when she and Flint are tormenting each other... that or the Benny Hill theme lmao] Death By Glamour - Undertale [her main theme tbh] Heartache - Undertale

💗For Lotti! Her's is mostly Sailor Moon music hehe

Sailor Moon SuperS OST - Usagi and Chibiusa [especially the second half of the piece - this is her main theme atm] Sailor Moon OST - Scatterbrain Soda Soda - by nogika_chaba on YT The ending theme to Sailor Moon Super S [this fits for literally the whole cast haha I love imagining an anime ending credit for it]

❔For Query!

Zinnia Encounter Theme [her main theme] Zinnie Battle Theme [also a main theme. She's gunna KICK your ass!]

[freakcliff]

3, 7, 20, 40

3. Describe the creative process of writing a chapter/fic i was gonna say that its all over the place but that's like a lie i generally very solidly work from outward in. like depending on how long/complex the idea is i'll either start from the very broad strokes of figuring out the themes/character arcs of the whole piece & then go in deeper by coming up with scenes to decide how they get through each point of that arc, and after i know what Scenes im writing i'll write out the beats of a specific scene line by line with what happens. if there's ever dialogue or a conversation in a scene i'll write that out, sometimes nearly exactly but sometimes deeply stupidly. see: from my current wip

it's like deeply. i need to have everything i want to write written out before i go to actual prose so when i get to writing im not Floundering over figuring out what happens next and translating it into something that sounds good but my outlines do bring me joy from how silly they are next to very serious dialogue. like im not even saying whos saying what here i just Know

7. How do you choose which POV to write from? uh it's different every time. POV is a very fun thing for me when it comes to writing; i love working out the style of narration i'm going to use, the tense, the character & how that all fits into the story. so sometimes i just do it because i want to write in that character's voice--one example i can think of is my ze fic that's half from clover's pov because i want to write in the brain of a character i can justify thinking things like 'fuck me with a chainsaw'. the other times im thinking Intentionally about pov it's about how the information works. ie in sacred text on post-it notes i wanted to do sections about each pevensie sibling from the pov of a different sibling because i liked the interplay of information--ie, susan can say things about peter that he'd never admit himself, but she's also bringing her own biases and lack of info to it. that fic was actually going to have a whole second half set in england where i had different povs to further explore that sort of thing but. well. 10000 words already. a lesser vers. of that is the werewolf au where it started from peter because i needed to introduce the au from someone who knew what was going on, but then i had caspian because you gotta do the second part from someone who doesn't know whats going on to get it + you don't want to Know whats happening in peter as a wolfs head because like. he doesn't either. and then i went back to peter mostly for symmetry & the sweet sweet emotion of having to put your entire trust into someone you hardly know

20. Have you noticed any patterns in your fics? Words/expressions that appear a lot, themes, common settings, etc? i think i'd have to write more for some of this to really come out, but i pull intentionally a lot from my own life to write characters, so there's got to be lots of those basic jester themes, you know, characters who have facades, characters who are always really stressed on the inside and never letting it out, characters who are , well,all of narnia. on a smaller level im always stopping myself from saying how characters have unreadable expressions. or that they chuckle. love to say something is achingly familiar. i always go to fire first for metaphors theres always sparks in your veins fire in your gut etc etc. man this is such a funny question to get as im writing a fic giving peter pevensie all my evil feelings from high school

40. If someone were to make fanart of your work, what fic or scene would you hope to see? fucking. uhhhh. augh. okay well i feel weird saying this but i am a) an artist before a writer tbh and b) an artist who's much better at like, character design than imagining specific Scenes visually so very rarely to i write a fic and have images in mind for it outside of the aus ive come up with which i will draw so many things about. the main thing is its always important to draw characters hugging and kissing & interacting physically at least to me that is one visual bit that i do imagine in detail. but overall im always drawing something and going damn i wish there was a fic for this instead of the opposite. i'm like wracking my brain here for any moment thats specifically visual and i'd want to See. there's that one persona 5 fic i wrote where makoto & akechi meet while he's in prison; i feel like i wrote that one in a very cinematic mindset. but otherwise trying to imagine this is killing me cos im just enough of an artist to think well fuck i've got to think of a scene with strong visuals! something easy to translate into a good composition! but not the right type of artist to think of what. if anyone drew fanart for anything i wrote id fall on the floor and die of happiness on the spot tho

get to know ur fic writer asks

[writteninthesewalls28]

Family

A story about a girl wanting to find out the truth

A/n: Fourth chapter is here!

Warnings: none

Milly’s POV:

I stood there, for at least 5 minutes.

"Someone home?" My heart was pounding so hard in my chest, I was scared it could eventually pound out of my body. However, I sometime started wandering around the house. Taking one step after another I looked into every single corner, taking everything in. I always had a good ability to remember random things, but I already knew, I will remember the look of this little nondescript house in the most likely darkest neighborhood in Adelaide for forever and never forget anything about its appearance. I thought the house was completely empty because every room I went through had absolutely no furniture, no drawings, no feeling of a family, of a home.

But then I entered a little room.

It wasn’t that different to the other 5 rooms I went through before, but I wouldn’t be Milly, if I didn’t notice the difference immediately.

My eyes directly swung to the 4 small pictures on the left wall. As I stepped a little closer, I could see what it was exactly. Ultrasound images.

I slowly walked over to the corner and stopped to tear one of the photos off and took a close look at it. You could definitely recognize the outline of a growing baby.

Is that me? Or do I have a sibling? The thought never went through my mind before. What if I have a sister or brother? With my huge family at home, I always thought, my biological parents definitely don’t have any other kids, but what if my thought was wrong the whole time? What if they did have other children before they gave me away?

Turning the photo in my hand around, gave me the answers to my silent questions.

Someone wrote something on there, and the text made my heart go crazy, I breathed uncontrollably.

"Welcome little Milly (10/20/1993)" Was the short but definitely meaningful text on the back. My eyes started to fill with tears. That was the proof, the proof I always hoped for, I would find someday. They loved me. They truly loved me.

Relieve and happiness flooded through my veins. The house may be empty, but their spirit still lives in here, it isn’t gone completely. I could feel it through these few pictures hanging on this wall. But why did they left the photos here when they decided to move away? Did they not care enough to take them with them?

A sudden mood change followed after the high of happiness. It changed to a slight confusion mixed up with an upcoming sadness. Yes, I indeed found a proof of my loving parents, who seem to care enough about me, to write something like that on the back of an ultrasound image, but it was bittersweet. They left them. Here, in the abandoned house in the abandoned neighborhood, as if they wanted to leave me behind too. To never even think about me again, the child they gave away. And that hurt.

Minutes later I sat in front of the house on the doorstep, looking at the 4 photos, still shocked and not able to handle the information I got today. Tears were streaming over my face and they didn’t seem to stop. I must’ve looked like a zombie with my mascara ruined and the eyes completely red from the crying. All I asked for, were answers, answers to the questions I kept in my mind for nearly 15 years now. And what did I get? Reasons, to ask even more questions. Why are they not living here anymore? Why are these ultrasound images on the wall? Why did they leave them in there? Why did they leave me? My last hope to finally get a few answers, were neighbors who eventually come home today and could maybe give me answers. So all I could do was wait. And get lost in my thoughts.

Calum’s POV:

He didn’t really focus on the admittedly romantic movie he put on the TV. His thoughts just couldn’t let go of Milly. He wondered what she was doing right now and what took her so long to get here. He wanted her here on the couch, sitting next to him, so he could wrap his arms around her tightly and tell her she can tell him everything, he won’t get angry at her. Never. But instead, he sat on the big sofa alone, not really knowing what exactly was happening as the cute couple on the screen finally kissed. Before he could press the 'replay' button on the remote, to rewatch this important scene, he got interrupted by his phone. The standard apple ringtone filled the living room with noise. Calum got his phone out of his pocket in his pants and saw Louis' caller ID. Trying not to panic too much, since this call could be about the fact that might’ve something happened to Milly, he answered the call.

"Hi Cal!" He heard a kind of anxious version of Milly’s bother’s voice at the other end.

"Hey Mate! Are you okay? You don’t sound so good…" He responded.

"Where’s Milly? And if you say, that she hasn’t talked to you, I swear I'll fly to Australia and-"

"Louis, I'm sorry, but I tried calling her about a hundred times now, she only said, she’s going to the Youth Welfare Office here in Adelaide. I have absolutely no idea when she’s gonna return." Calum tried calming down Louis on the phone.

He heard how he took deep breaths.

"If anything, do you hear me? If anything happens to her, I'm blaming it on you alright?" He sounded really angry, he's never seen him like that. "You should’ve tried stopping her from even starting to search for them, it’s only gonna hurt her." Louis continued without even giving Calum the chance to say something to that.

"Louis, I-" he tried calming him, but it didn’t work. He didn’t even notice him.

"It’s all your fault, I can’t reach out to her!" The man said. In the exact moment where Calum wanted to say something, he heard a loud crack and the telephone was taken away from Louis.

Louis' POV:

(Flackback to the time where Milly called him)

He hung up the phone and stared at it in disbelief. As nice as he was to his sister when she told him about wanting to find her parents, he was very worried. Worried, she’s not gonna be able to live with the truth. He was the oldest, he was supposed to protect them, he promised mum. He already lost Fiz, wasn’t able to protect her. He HAD to do better with Milly, he just had to. He covered his face in his hands and thought about all the different scenarios that could possibly happen when she searches for them. One worse than the other. Exactly at this moment, Louis husband Harry entered the music room, where all their guitars stood, in which Louis sat. "Oh, hey Lou…" He knew something was wrong, he always knew. Harry sat down next to him on the giant dark blue sofa and put an arm around his small waist.

"Okay, I assume something is going on with one of the sister and because you only react with being alone and staying silent when it’s about Milly, so I bet something is going wrong down there in Adelaide." He was still amazed by the way Harry could read him. No one will ever beat him in that. But Louis wasn’t ready to tell him yet, he first had to deal with it alone, Harry will understand that, he always did. But when will he be ready to talk about it?

Calum’s POV:

"Hey Cal.."

"Harry! Nice to hear your voice again!" Even though 5sos went on tour together with 1D back in 2013, they weren’t that close anymore. Only Niall sometimes visits them whenever he doesn’t have something to do.

"Listen, Lou is just kinda going crazy about this whole Milly-wants-to-find-her-parents thing, so when he saw her message this morning, he was extremely worried. When she didn’t answer as he was calling her, he just simply freaked out. I'm sorry that you had to experience that. I promise he didn’t mean any of the things he said" Talking to Harry always had something therapeutic, but this talk made Calum forget, he even had that conversation with Louis three minutes ago.

"Don’t worry. I get it, I'm very worried as well because it has been about 7 hours now without hearing anything from her and I have literally no idea where she could possibly be." He said, hoping he chose the right words to show Louis he cared about her just as much as he did. And that he was as worried as he was.

"Can you call Louis when she comes back? I'd guess, he wants to talk to her as soon as she’s with you again." Right when he wanted to respond, he heard someone unlocking the front door and opening it just seconds later. Only Milly can unlock doors this quick. It was a secret superpower of hers he noticed after 2 weeks of dating her as she broke into his dressing room 5 minutes before their London show.

"If you just stay on the phone for about 10 seconds, I guarantee you, he can talk to her." He said, eyes only located on the opening door.

[moonxsuncelestials]

This is what We Sound Like (Part 1)

Yue takes in deep quiet breaths as she tries to drown out her great-grandmother’s voice while the woman fusses over her hair, makeup, clothes-it wasn’t something that the queen was unaccustomed to. After all, Neith had been the same way whenever Yue had to make her appearance before the humans but that was-no, she can’t deny that what Neith was the same. Only with Neith, it was her debut as a goddess, and yeah, Neith had a point about her needing to establish herself among humans.

Let them know WHO she is.

The woman fussing and badmouthing her adopted family though was an insufferable bitch. Good Gods, how does Bolin put up with her? How did Ming Chi endure having to grow up with her? Going on and on about how great her mother was, how she is the spitting image of her, and says nothing but cruel and abusive words about her big brother. Her birth father… “Grandmother, enough.” She hissed when the older dragon pulled on her hair. “Ow.”

“Then move when I tell you too. Ugh, I knew that worthless boy would be a bad influ-”

“One more negative thing about my big brother OR my adopted family, and I’ll walk out in PUBLIC looking like I just had fucked my mate.” Yue growled, causing the old dragon to gasp. “Well?” 

The older woman with pale pastel pink hair and darker blue hued eyes ignored the threat and continued, becoming silent. And as suffocating as silence can be, Yue felt a bit better at drawing the line in the sand. The silence won’t last long, she knows this, but for now she can breathe in relief. This woman’s soul is filthy, far worse than what she’s seen in The Duat and that was saying something. There was no way that this woman was her great-grandmother…right?

A few hours later, she was at it again while Yue was forced to wear makeup that was more akin to the paints she used on her canvases. It felt wrong, it made her skin crawl, the traditional robes were weighing her down, her shoes too tight; and the crown was too much. Hells, her whole hair style was too ornate with so many pins! And don’t get her started on how her great-grandmother began to correct her or speak for her whenever she attempted to speak her mind ever since she first stepped foot in the house. 

Or just answer a simple question.

Lilu, her great-grandmother, even berated her for attempting to eat a skewered chicken or grilled fruit that she likes a few days ago. 

But what made Yue regret even agreeing to stay with her blood family was no one standing up to tell Lilu to stop. She could see their souls, there was nothing but the very darkness within The Duat that made her wary; the children were tainted too, but she knew that they still had a chance to escape the destiny that awaited them if they didn’t change. The only soul here though among the adults whose light pulsed like her own, was Bolin. The eldest male dragon was far kinder to her, similarly to how Ra is back home, wiser. He looked more middle aged, his eyes a softer shade of a dark jade, his dull dark green short hair styled back, and his once brilliant scales on his face; all were hard as he glared at the woman whom Yue could only fathom he was forced to marry. 

While his voice boomed at Lilu, apparently there was more to place on the queen’s shoulders, Yue became lost in her thoughts as she was forced to remain still.

This…this is what her brother endured, only she is experiencing just a mere fraction of it. He had been trapped in a role he never wanted, forced to endure the pain and feel the loneliness of this burden, becoming frustrated with her when she appeared; all smiles and ignorant to the pain he had tried to hint at, tried to tell her.

No wonder…no wonder he hates her. 

She barely heard something from a cousin who noticed that the stars in the night sky have become even dimmer, as if there was nothing shining and when Lilu dared to shake her, Yue merely blinked and looked at her. There was no emotion but she knew one thing: She had to get away.

She wretched herself away from Lilu and ran despite having felt so heavy in the robes and all that Lilu had made her wear.

“XI-YUE MAO LONG RUAN! COME BACK HERE!” The elder woman roared but dared not give chase due to Bolin grabbing her. “Let go-”

“You will leave her be, WOMAN.” He growled at her. “I’ve had ENOUGH of your bigotry, your affairs, and undermining my rules under this roof. I should have done this long ago. I’m divorcing you and sending you BACK to your family with a letter outlining every SHAMEFUL sin you had dared to commit while smiling at me and calling me husband.”

[dankusner]

OTD

In 1976, New York magazine published an article by Nik Cohn titled “The Tribal Rites of the New Saturday Night,” which inspired the film Saturday Night Fever, which in turn sparked a nationwide disco craze.

(Cohn admitted in 1997 that the article was actually a work of fiction.)

Skip to content, or skip to search.

Skip to content, or skip to search.

Feature

Tribal Rites of the New Saturday Night

“. . . The new generation takes few risks; it graduates, looks for a job, endures. And once a week, on Saturday night, it explodes . . .”

By Nik Cohn

*From the June 7, 1976 issue of New York Magazine.

Over the past few months, much of my time has been spent in watching this new generation.

Moving from neighborhood to neighborhood, from disco to disco, an explorer out of my depth, I have tried to learn the patterns, the old/new tribal rites.

In the present article, I have focused on one club and one tight-knit group which seem to sum up the experience as a whole.

Artist James McMullan also spent many hours observing this development, but his paintings, reproduced here, are less specific; although they deal with the same locations and group, they are generalized images of these Saturday night rituals.

Everything described in this article is factual and was either witnessed by me or told to me directly by the people involved.

Only the names of the main characters have been changed.

Within the closed circuits of rock & roll fashion, it is assumed that New York means Manhattan.

The center is everything, all the rest irrelevant.

If the other boroughs exist at all, it is merely as a camp joke—Bronx-Brooklyn-Queens, monstrous urban limbo, filled with everyone who is no one.

In reality, however, almost the reverse is true.

While Manhattan remains firmly rooted in the sixties, still caught up in faction and fad and the dreary games of decadence, a whole new generation has been growing up around it, virtually unrecognized.

Kids of sixteen to twenty, full of energy, urgency, hunger.

All the things, in fact, that the Manhattan circuit, in its smugness, has lost.

They are not so chic, these kids.

They don’t haunt press receptions or opening nights; they don’t pose as street punks in the style of Bruce Springsteen, or prate of rock & Rimbaud.

Indeed, the cults of recent years seem to have passed them by entirely.

They know nothing of flower power or meditation, pansexuality, or mind expansion.

No waterbeds or Moroccan cushions, no hand-thrown pottery, for them.

No hep jargon either, and no Pepsi revolutions.

In many cases, they genuinely can’t remember who Bob Dylan was, let alone Ken Kesey or Timothy Leary.

Haight Ashbury, Woodstock, Altamont—all of them draw a blank.

Instead, this generation’s real roots lie further back, in the fifties, the golden age of Saturday nights.

The cause of this reversion is not hard to spot.

The sixties, unlike previous decades, seemed full of teenage money.

No recession, no sense of danger.

The young could run free, indulge themselves in whatever treats they wished.

But now there is shortage once more, just as there was in the fifties.

Attrition, continual pressure.

So the new generation takes few risks.

It goes through high school, obedient; graduates, looks for a job, saves and plans.

Endures.

And once a week, on Saturday night, its one great moment of release, it explodes.

Vincent was the very best dancer in Bay Ridge—the ultimate Face.

He owned fourteen floral shirts, five suits, eight pairs of shoes, three overcoats, and had appeared on American Bandstand.

Sometimes music people came out from Manhattan to watch him, and one man who owned a club on the East Side had even offered him a contract.

A hundred dollars a week.

Just to dance.

Everybody knew him.

When Saturday night came round and he walked into 2001 Odyssey, all the other Faces automatically fell back before him, cleared a space for him to float in, right at the very center of the dance floor.

Gracious as a medieval seigneur accepting tributes, Vincent waved and nodded at random.

Then his face grew stern, his body turned to the music.

Solemn, he danced, and all the Faces followed.

In this sphere his rule was absolute.

Only one thing bothered him, and that was the passing of time.

Already he was eighteen, almost eighteen and a half.

Soon enough he would be nineteen, twenty.

Then this golden age would pass.

By natural law someone new would arise to replace him.

Then everything would be over.

The knowledge nagged him, poisoned his pleasure.

One night in January, right in the middle of the Bus Stop, he suddenly broke off, stalked from the floor without a word, and went outside into the cold darkness, to be alone.

He slouched against a wall.

He stuck his hands deep into his overcoat pockets.

He sucked on an unlit cigarette.

A few minutes passed. Then he was approached by a man in a tweed suit, a journalist from Manhattan.

They stood close together, side by side.

The man in the tweed suit looked at Vincent, and Vincent stared at the ground or at the tips of his platform shoes.

“What’s wrong?” said the man in the suit, at last.

Next: Vincent's life during the week.

[musicismymoirail]

Just some ramblings.

Still working of the silly Ven x Ortega post-void fight comic and it’s almoooooost done. ✨ Every page is like 80~% or so done and everything left is just color edits and top sketching and last minute details, so yay.

They’re both Having A Blast.

I switched up from drawing until I pass out/things get finished to drawing until my iPad dies (like six hours or so?), and it’s been helpful? I think? o: For not burning out as fast or getting frustrated at the ‘lack of progress’ (which is mostly just my head being irrational and impatient. Finishing a four-page comic in one sitting ain’t happening, my mind.) I’ll try to keep that up, least for longer projects like comics~~~ c:

And I’ve been craving doodling my little Warlock from Baldur’s Gate so bad too! I’m in Act 2 now, and Coalesce is having a time, let me tell you.

So, I went to the Mountain Pass/Monastery finally because I felt bad I hadn’t indulged Lae’zel much in her quest like I had the others. And, well.

Found the Purification Device, let Lae’zel use it because Coalesce is still like ‘yolo don’t mind the tadpole and dream visitor and me are gonna be bffs~~~’ It broke tho. So shocked.

Stole so so many tadpoles from the Doctor.

Tried to tell the higher up there was a traitor in their midst (because Lae’zel was adamant) and she knew we had the artefact and sent us to the Inquisitor.

Killed the Inquisitor where he tried to take the artefact because bestie is inside, and not happening.

The Lich Queen herself appeared and was like ‘behold! Kill the bestie inside the artefact and I’ll ascend your asses’.

Coa did not. Bestie said Lich Queen is lying too and Coa told Lae’zel who is taking all the murder and potential lying from her Queen delusionally well. I am Concerned for her wellbeing. :/!

Almost got a TPK trying to leave as we had no health and no spells. My special dagger got knocked out of my hand tho and I Could Not Pick It Up after the fight. So, had to redo that whole fight again. :’l

(And just launched a fireball at them at the start and it went much more swimmingly. Yay fireball!)

Escaped!!!! But Coalesce might now be Enemy #2 of the Githyanki Empire so, you know?? Maybe. Not. Great.

All of this because I felt bad Lae’zel had been dealing with us all and just wanted her to feel at home with her people. And now she’s dreaming of stabbing the Lich Queen herself. Sorry, Lae’zel! Coa was trying to be nice! 😭😭😭

I got to meet the Myconid colony too! Which was so fun. I love them and the Underdark so damn much!!!! I had been debating making Coalesce’s patron dead and dreaming (a definite), but like dead via being infected with some eldritch fungi? A bit like those zombie ants get. o:

And go figure! The Myconids have the same glowy eyes that Coalesce has too. Go dead fungi-infected patron! ✨👾✨ I like imaging it ‘has nightmares’ every so often and escapes into Coalesce which… ah, ends with a fair bit of body horror? I can’t picture a dead god dreaming of parasites would take being in a fragile foreign body all that well. But thankfully, they tend to put Coalesce back together too.

“They’re not unkind, just dead and dreaming and unaware.” Coalesce explains to the group later, who are all like ‘doubt’.

[ihatedtoadmit]

Garden of regret

pairing: Han Jisung x gn! reader

genre: heavy angst

warnings: dead dove do not eat (I cannot reveal more so the surprise is retained)

word count: ~2.1k

summary: Just when you thought nothing could get worse, life proves you wrong. Oh, how you wish you hadn't thought that...

A Guide to the AU, in case you are unfamiliar with it.

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All rights reserved. Please do not steal, repost or feed my work into AI. Thank you!

That day started out perfectly.

Well, as perfect as it could, considering how I still felt a harrowing exhaustion seeping into my bones the moment I glanced at the bleary ceiling. But it was nothing new, so I pushed through it, its thought now forgotten at the back of my mind. I couldn’t waste any time dawdling around, I had somewhere to be. Something that both filled me with dread and joy simultaneously.

He was waiting for me there, after all.

A bright image of his heart-shaped smile popped into my head, unconsciously urging my lips to curve up themselves, as silent followers. I suppressed a cough as I instead went to get ready, deciding on a more casual outfit for the day. We’ve known each other for years now, I knew I didn’t need to dress up when we hang out.

The Sun was pleasantly shining down onto my skin as soon as I had stepped out of my apartment, the star’s warmth pleasant and gentle, as if it was caressing me in silent comfort. I couldn’t help but stop and stand under its rays for just a few seconds, soaking it up, like a black cat laying on a vast, sun-kissed field.

It felt nice, after long days and weeks of being cooped up inside my home, unable to willingly leave it without a good reason. I could order food online, after all, the only thing that really mattered lately. My soul was still in shambles, although thankful that life seemed to be kind enough to not make me work and study while shit was being continuously thrown at me.

A pitiful balm to my healing scars, at the very least.

A gentle ringing sound broke the serene atmosphere, chatter filling the air as I stepped in. My eyes swept over the other guests and the baristas, easily finding the one I had been searching for. Another, softer smile took its place on my lips as I just watched him sit there, oblivious to the whole world, lips in a playful pout as he was focusing on something that was displayed on his phone maybe a bit too hard. His doe eyes nearly disappeared, eyebrows furrowed and a finger tapping his chin, occasionally crawling up to worry at the slightly chapped skin of his pink lips.

Suddenly, as if a lightbulb appeared above his head, his entire expression lit up and that wonderful smile appeared on his face once again, drawing the tiniest of chuckles out of me. Looking around once more, I finally willed my legs to move, to take me to him at last.

Unsurprisingly, he only noticed me once I had arrived, my hand already on the top of his head and playfully ruffling up those fluffy chocolate locks of his. His head shot up in surprise, yet his face lit up in happiness once he’d realised it was only me.

“What took you so long? I thought you’ve forgotten about me.” - he pouted, phone now pocketed and attention devoted solely to me. “Sorry. I overslept a bit.”

My only reply was an even more dramatic pout, arms crossed and head turned away from me. But after all these years of knowing him, I knew how to deal with this situation.

“Oh? Guess I’ll just leave then.” - I replied with a flat tone, hand already grabbing my bag.

His reaction was immediate, dramatics melting away and panic taking its place. Frantic hands grabbed at me and dragged my entire body back into its comfortable seat, all the while his mouth kept rambling and apologising. I merely chuckled at him, something that broke him out of it, drawing a playfully hurt expression onto his face.

“You did that on purpose, didn’t you?” “Of course.” “I hate you.” “I know.”

Both of us knew we didn’t mean these words seriously, laughter leaving our forms not long afterwards. It didn’t take long for us to decide what to drink and eat, having been regulars at the dainty little café. We only looked at the menu out of habit, even though our orders were known by the baristas themselves at this point. Still, they politely came to our table and asked us what we’d have liked to eat, only playfully commenting how ‘daring’ we were for choosing the same thing again.

“So, how’re ya doing?” - Jisung asked, a light popping sound resounding in the air as he stopped sipping from his straw. “The usual, you know that.” - I replied, afraid of where this was going. “That’s a lie and you know it. Please stop pretending you’re fine, nobody would be if they were in your shoes.” - his tone turned serious, a hand snaking its way towards mine.

A sigh left my lungs, so heavy you could nearly feel it rattle the table as it comfortably settled there like a dead weight. Warmth seeped into the tips of my fingers, his own encasing them gently.

“But I’m really fine, Ji. I just need some time to gather myself, you know that.” “What I do know is you, which is why I know you’re bullshitting with me right now. Looking like an animated corpse or not talking to me for days is not normal, even for you.” “I’m okay, Ji!” - my voice gained a bit of volume against my better judgement, his hand tightening its grip on mine in retaliation. “No, no you’re not!” - he shouted back, making us the centre of attention.

Yet, I cared not for it, his hurt expression much more important. His dark eyes were swimming with pain, with sadness, as if they were two bottomless lakes drowning me inside. That same hand now tightly held mine, warming it up impossibly, a part of me hungrily soaking it up and only yearning for more, despite knowing I couldn’t ever get it.

And because my other part knew that, I just ignored that familiar blooming pain in my chest and tore my hand away, out of that wonderfully warm hold, the digits already turning rigid and cold.

“If you only invited me here just to tell me this, then we’re done here. Have a great day, Jisung.” - I spat out while heaving for air, blood now boiling in anger and anguish.

Why wouldn’t it?

My supposed best friend just seemed to be blind, insisting on stupid things uselessly. If I said I was fine, then why couldn’t he just accept it? Why couldn’t he just leave the topic be, leave me be? He had more important things to do, so much more important than to say these things to my face.

I didn’t even wait for him to react or bid me his goodbye, instead I just hastily slammed some bills onto the table and stormed out of the building. The weather was still filled with sunlight, but the once comforting rays now felt harsh on my skin, as if desperately wishing to scorch me. My only wish was to hide back in my little apartment again, where I could be miserable alone, with no one to see.

My legs automatically took me towards my home, eyes barely catching the red light at the crosswalks so I could stop in time. Time felt stretched out, forever, as I waited there, waiting for that annoying light to turn green and allow me to safely pass.

The moment had passed, that sought-after green lighting up, the end of the crosswalks so close to me.

So, so close, yet a vicious pain grabbed at my chest, as if something was tearing it apart from the inside. I pathetically gasped for air, hunching over, my lungs unable to take anything in and instead pushing every last bit of remaining oxygen out, something I was trying and failing to battle.

The hand in front of my mouth was useless, just like everything else was as all I could hear amidst my desperate coughing was a familiar shout of my name and the loud horn of a car.

I was forcefully pushed away, the rough cement unpleasant underneath my scraped up palms. Yet, when I finally took in a mouthful of air and opened my eyes, it felt like I was suffocating once again, my entire body shutting down. Unblinking eyes took in the scenery in front of me, yet my brain refused to actually process that information, as if it stopped working completely. I couldn’t blame it, no, I was actually grateful for it.

Because my best friend, Han Jisung’s body laid in front of me, unmoving, warm hands still grasping onto my clothes.

The taste of iron in my mouth never left.

-.-.-

The days and weeks just blended together after that, my life suddenly grey and barren. Nothing was the same anymore, not my once oh so bright and colourful walls, not my favourite anime shows, and certainly not my favourite flower.

And yet, they somehow retained their painfully blue colour, one that resembled a cloudless sky.

My bleak eyes could only watch the petals fall, uncaring about the grey splotches on them as they fell into the bowl, only to be flushed down the pipes, never to return.

Everything was covered in them.

The floor, the bed, even some cupboards and my nightstand was that same shade of blue, as if I was trapped in the bottom of a lake, fated to drown there alone.

A fate I had chosen for myself, willingly, too stubborn to lose everything regarding him and live like this.

After that fateful day, everything had changed. My friendships had become strained, the other boys torn apart, understandably so.

Because Minho blamed me for Jisung’s, his beloved one’s death.

When he had first heard the news, you could see his entire world shatter in the mirrors of his soul, those dark orbs losing their shine forever. A cold aura had surrounded him, no one there to counter it with their own warmth anymore. And those dark, icy eyes had turned towards me, tearing into my skin and ripping me apart with vicious determination.

And I just simply stood there, letting him vent his anger out on me, letting him drag me around and throw me into the walls, the ground, wherever he pleased. No amount of physical pain could ever get close to what I felt inside and what he could possibly feel, ever.

It had taken for the others to hold him down so he would stop, Changbin dragging me away to patch me up. And I had silently let him, none of his words really settling into my mind. No, these unseeing eyes had only watched as the world slowly lost its vividness, all those beloved colours turning into mush and pain.

Some of the band members really tried, to keep in touch, even against all that had happened. Felix and Jeongin being the two who tried the hardest, but I could see how much it all hurt them. To choose between Minho and me, whose side to take when Jisung was brought up and the dancer nearly leapt at me.

Which was why I had chosen this path. A path of solitude, of silent suffering, yet one filled with memories of him.

Taking another deep breath, I leaned away from the porcelain bowl, sight blurry and filled with dark spots. The thought of going back to my bed tired me out in itself, my legs long ago unable to uphold my weight. Still, I crawled towards the plush surface, bit by bit, the air turning thinner and thinner.

By the time I’d reached my goal, I was spent, another vicious cough ripping itself out of me, followed by several others. Their reason for existence showed itself, the tiny hydrangea flowers joining the countless others laying on the floor. Something that I’d found morbidly beautiful, despite everything.

A hand blindly reached up onto the soft blanket, miraculously finding its goal and gently grasping at it, as if it was my lifeline.

Maybe it really was.

His smiling face looked back at me, the paper slightly crinkled as I had accidentally rolled onto it in my sleep. And yet, I didn’t mind, thumb slowly caressing his colourless cheeks, accidentally smudging some dark grey on it.

“Sleep well, Ji.”

The soft ringing of my phone could be heard as I closed my eyes one final time, a soft smile on my lips, knowing I would meet him again soon.

Taglist: @michelle4eve @atinyniki