#the most recurring theme of my art is back <3< /div> Explore tagged Tumblr posts

[sabeedraws]

“You shouldn’t have done that.” „Well, they had it coming.“

Lurline help those who make fun of Glinda's roommate...!

Redraw of an old Gelphie drawing

[scannainscanrula]

shadowed corners

remmick x reader (18+ mdni)

You're a romance author suffering from insomnia, writer's block, and strange nightmares. Your publisher offers to send you to Maine for a short sabbatical to clear your head. It's a quaint town with charming locals, and a mysterious man running the lighthouse that nobody seems to know much about... [part two here]

author's note: well well here we are again. this is MUCH longer than my other fic and i intend to have at least 3(?) chapters for it, so strap in girlies. no smut just yet yous have to earn it first by sitting through all this fucking exposition. grma enjoy! warnings: horror elements, discussion of animal death, discussion of shark attacks, sexual themes

You sit at your desk in front of an empty document, the cursor blinking at you mockingly. Your eyes are tired and your head feels heavy, and the last time you fell asleep at your desk you had drooled on your keyboard, and you really don’t want to find a place to get it fixed. 

“An old-school computer always helps me when I have writer’s block,” one of your colleagues had told you at a cocktail party when you lamented about your publisher’s insistence on a new concept.

You had a very embarrassing and uncomfortably visible breakdown in her windows-only corner office. You began word-vomiting all over her sleek carbon fibre desk about your writer’s block and insomnia– leaving out the extra embarrassing detail of your recurring sexy nightmares– and she had patted your back and attempted to comfort you with corporate jargon. When the tears started she lowered some blinds and lowered her voice, sitting against the edge of the desk in front of her.

“Look, kid. You’re a hell of a writer, okay? Nothing sells like your stuff. I mean, I don’t get it, but the girls love this… creepy vampire stalker shit.”

Dark romance, you want to correct her, but it’s futile after four years working together. 

She sighed, crossing her arms.

“How about… I give you a company card and you go… rent on the coast somewhere for a few months? We have some contracts to draft because these streaming services are just chomping at the bit for rights to adapt. So you go pack your things and take a break. Get an Ambien prescription, fuck a fisherman, whatever you need to do.”

“Are you sure?”

“I’ll bankroll it.”

She taps her manicured acrylic nail on the cover of your most recent title, Shadowed Corners. It was a total and complete success, where your first two were mafia romances set in the same universe, SC was a dark romance with a vampire love interest stalking your adorable main character. You love red flags, and Milo was covered in them.  

“You’re a money-printing machine, babe.”

So here you are, not relaxing, not on sleeping pills, and completely unfucked by any hot guys. You press your fingers to your temples and sigh, closing the pages and pushing the circular off button for the computer. You slide back and lean forward, stretching your creaky back. You miss your cozy little setup at home, your comfortable chair and the souped-up gamer style keyboard. You sacrificed comfort hoping it would make you work harder, but you think you’ll just finish this little sabbatical with more lower-back pain than usual. 

You fill your water bottle with the filter in the fridge, admiring the stickers all over it. Among the logo of your publishing house and the ones about writing, you have fanart of your books and quotes from your own characters. Ones you’ve found at book fairs and second-hand stores as well as online. A handful were sent along with fanmail. Your laptop and idea notebook are covered too, because it drove you mad to know people liked your stuff enough to make art out of it. 

You huff and trudge up the stairs, feeling exhausted and dreading the next day. You sit in your bed and look at the sticker of Milo with his signature phrase I’d like to see you stop me, babygirl. 

You turn the bottle away from you as you open the bedside drawer. Inside of it are two options. A scent-proof bag that holds your pipe, grinder, and bud, a vape, and a few edibles. The other is a vibrator. You wonder what the point of this vacation was. You could get high and get off at home in the city. And at least there you could order munchies for delivery after you’d fucked yourself silly thinking about the made-up vampire in your head.

You just shut the drawer, rolling your eyes as you lay back. 

Two hours later, you can’t sleep. You’re “jerking off your ego” as your friends would call it, looking through positive reviews of your last title. You know you have detractors, people who think your work is trash or anti-feminist. It’s a little trashy, but it’s just for fun. And you’ve had your share of shitty boyfriends like any girl your age, you know the difference between right and wrong. God forbid a girl wants a hot vampire to follow her home, you think. 

You sit up and put your phone face down. You need fresh air. You need a walk. So, you bundle up and stick in headphones for a brisk, freezing, 7 PM wintertime mental health walk. The New England air isn’t just cold, it’s thick and wet with the marine layer from the ocean, which you’re a short walk away from. It’s not nice, but it does invigorate you as you follow the path from your little cottage down to the beach. It’s pretty private, tucked away in a little alcove– which you were warned not to enter when the tide is too high. You peek over to see it’s not. So you climb down and skirt around the rocks to walk on the main beach, which is empty. Obviously. The recently released audiobook of one of your peers’ newest titles plays in your ears, narrated by a sultry English man. You should have gone somewhere else for inspiration. You vaguely remember hearing someone at a book release party talk about how inspiring their trip to France was, and another person responded about their time in Ireland. You’ve mostly just met fishermen and townies, and none of these men had the Milo quality about them. 

Milo was inspired by a stunning man you saw while at a nightclub in New York City. You were very, very drunk on espresso martinis, but you saw him and his adorable girlfriend– who also served as your muse for Annmarie, SC’s protagonist– at the bar together. His arm was around her waist in a way that was possessive but romantic, his hand rested over her tummy, and you saw his thumb rubbing circles into her skin lovingly. 

“Oh my God, girl, are you seriously drooling? You are so drunk,” your friend had half-sighed, half-laughed as you wiped a little drool from your chin with the back of your hand.

“We have got to get you some dick, queen,” another friend joked.

“I am perfectly fine being single,” you protested.

“Nuh-uh, I read that last book of yours. All work and no dick makes you fucking crazy. How did you come up with that shit anyway?”

“She’s totally sick in the head, that’s how.”

Your back straightens up as you think you hear a voice.

“Miss!”

You pause the book and turn around to see a man jogging behind you, holding something in his hands. You freeze with terror until you realise it’s your notebook he’s holding.

“You dropped this,” he says, handing it over. He stays a nice distance away from you.

He has some sort of Southern accent, not New England. 

And he is very, very attractive. He wears a tight black t-shirt and black athletic shorts. His short hair is semi-dark, and probably reddish from the way it looks in the blue moonlight. He smiles politely at you, his dark eyes are hard to see. There’s a scruff of facial hair on him.

“Thanks.”

“Sorry, I… I woulda tapped your shoulder, but I was worried you’d sock me in the nose if I scared you.”

“I appreciate that.”

“Are you uh… you okay? It’s pretty dark out here.”

“Yeah, I know. I was just clearing my head.”

“Right.”

You take a breath and introduce yourself quickly.

“I’m Remmick,” he says.

“So, what are you doing out here, Remmick?”

“Well, I work at that lighthouse. Just takin’ a jog before I head up there.”

“Oh.”

Hot lighthouse worker. That could be a love interest.

“You on vacation? I think I’d remember your face if I’d seen it before.”

Charming lighthouse worker. 

“I’m uh… on a sort of sabbatical.”

“You a doctor or something?”

“God, no. I’m a writer.”

“Yeah?”

The tone and timbre of that yeah have your head spinning. 

“Books or what?”

You nod.

“What kind?”

You hesitate.

“Can I guess?”

“Go for it.”

He thinks for a second, his tongue darting out to wet his lips as he does, which makes you flush. 

“Are they scary?”

“Parts of them are scary,” you admit. 

You remembered researching for SC and finding out that a lot of people only have a little over one gallon of blood in their bodies. You felt lightheaded and queasy at the visual of a plastic gallon bottle full of blood.

“But they ain’t all scary, huh?”

“Nope.”

He eyes you and smirks.

“Are they dirty?”

You hesitate and suck in air through clenched teeth.

“Yeah. They’re pretty dirty.”

“You must make good money, huh?”

He chuckles and you shrug.

“I do alright.”

“Yeah, I bet you do. Where’re you stayin’?”

You pause and he holds up his hands.

“That probably sounded creepy. I only meant… there’s some nice places, and there’s a Holiday Inn.”

“Well, it’s not the Holiday Inn.”

He looks at the watch on his hand.

“Shit. Well, I gotta get goin’.”

He says your name and your chest fills up with a weird feeling. Half-elation, half-dread.

“Nice to meet you.”

“Yeah. You too. I’ll see you around,” you respond.

“Only if you keep walkin’ at night. Boats don’t need a lighthouse in the daytime,” he explains quickly, jogging off toward the beacon.

Hot lighthouse worker who’s charming and funny. Now that could work.

You go home and open the fridge. Time for boxed wine in a mug as you power-write for the next forty-five minutes until your hands cramp up.

You put the notebook down and pull out your favorite pen. You need certainty when you put book ideas down. You write in quick, messy bullet points, only getting down little ideas. You heard that coastal New England towns are famous for gruesome murder. Your instincts take you to the mafia but one glance at your water bottle has you thinking otherwise. SC was such a success, and you’re the vampire girl now. 

So you begin to pen the vague outline of a dark romance with a steamy, stalkery vampire lighthouse worker. A man in thick knit sweaters with a messy beard– that could get messier covered in blood or buried between a writer’s thighs–

You pause and see you’ve written writer on the page. You cringe and scribble that out. You had your humble beginnings with composition notebook self-insert fanfiction as a tween, but you’re a big girl now. And you’re already writing prose over a guy you just met, you really don’t need to make it any weirder. Your mind goes through some humble, wholesome occupations to compliment a love interest like that. Baker? Too cliche. Schoolteacher? Too male gaze. Big city corporate lawyer? Too Hallmark movie.

You tap back of the pen against the page rhythmically and sit up. Investigative journalist. Still technically a writer, but the only things you investigate are late-night Twitter links on a private spam account not even your best friends know about. 

Your pen dashes across the page, scrawling wildly. There’s not even any music playing, just the not-so-distant sound of the ocean, the radiator, and your own hand brushing against the paper. Soon, you’ve filled five pages without realising and that doubles in a blink. Shit! Your hand cramps up and you lift the pen finally, massaging your other thumb into your palm. It’s time for bed now, as three hours have passed and your back is killing you. 

You ascend the stairs again and just go to sleep, hand and wrist sore and content with your productivity.

You wake up surprisingly early the next day, and decide to go into town to get some groceries. Your fridge is looking sparse and the pantries are basically empty. You buy some frozen stuff and some supplies to make coffee. You see the honey is placed on the highest shelf you’ve ever seen and huff. No workers around. You can probably get it on your tiptoes. You strain to reach it and hear a man’s voice.

“Can I help you with that?”

You almost fall dropping to your feet again, and a shooting pain goes up from your heels.

“Ow, shit.”

“I’m sorry.”

It’s a man in a lifeguard’s hoodie with red swim trunks on. Maybe you hit your head and you’re having some sort of insane Baywatch fantasy.

“Yes. Please.”

“Yeah, I honestly don’t know who puts this stuff up there. The lady who owns this place is like, four-eleven.” You laugh at that as he hands you the honey.

“Thank you.”

“No problem. I’m Chris, by the way.”

You give him your name and shake his hand. Fucking hell this guy is strong. 

“Are you visiting?”

“Yeah. For a few months though. I’m working on a book.”

“You write horror?”

“Sorry?”

“Um, Stephen King’s from Maine. I feel like horror writers are always trying to… come out here and get some of that inspiration.”

“I think the inspiration he had was-”

“Cocaine?” he says at the same time as you. He shrugs. “At least you can recognise that. Half the other writers are ready to climb into the sewer.”

“Shit, well there goes my day at the rock quarry,” you joke. 

He laughs at that and you grin. 

“I’m a lifeguard on the beach for the next six hours, if you um… feel like you need some fresh air. Sunlight isn’t really a November specialty.”

“Are people really swimming this time of year?”

“Oh, they are. But so are the great whites, so, I’m mostly on seal watch.”

“Right.”

“I’m in tower Four,” he tells you eagerly. It’s like the words just jump right out of his mouth. “It’s right by the lighthouse. Nobody swims there, so… if you wanna tell me about your book or something… my job is pretty boring.”

“I’ll see you out there, Chris.”

“See you.”

You check out and ride the bike the homeowner left for guests back to the cottage. You feel insane. Maybe you were hospitalized after that breakdown and this is all some elaborate, drugged-up daydream you’re in. You pull out your notebook after the groceries are put away and flip to a new page. You click your pen and write HOT LIFEGUARD at the top of the page. 

A love triangle sounds awesome.

Later on, after you actually manage to type some words on a new, more permanent outline document, your vision drifts out the window. It is actually kind of a nice day, even though it’s overcast and windy. You stand and squeeze your hands together, stretching out. It is time for another brisk walk, this time to Tower Four.

Chris sits up there, slumped in his chair and holding his rescue tube in his lap. His tanned, toned legs are wide as he sits back.

“Would it scare you really bad if I started yelling ‘help’?” you joke, peering up at him from the ground.

He chirps your name, sitting up and sliding his sunglasses on top of his head, pushing back his hair. 

“You made it.”

“I brought you a snack,” you say, handing up the small bag of chocolates.

“Wicked,” he says, taking it from your hand. He swings down like a monkey and sits with his feet dangling off the side of the tower. You share the candies and look out on the water.

“So, you gonna tell me about your book?”

“Yeah, I’m not a horror writer.”

“What do you write?”

You hesitate. You know this song and dance, the divulgence of your career and the weird stares and uncomfortable shifting that follows. It’s ruined all sorts of dates and first impressions. Fuck it. You’re on sabbatical.

“Um… dirty romance books.”

“No shit? Is it like that crazy mafia stuff online?”

“Yeah, it’s exactly that.”

“Killer. You make a lot of money?”

“Enough to stay here and not work for three months.”

“So… you’re not writing a book?”

You shake your head.

“My creative well is completely dry. I came out here for-”

“Don’t even say it.”

“-some inspiration.”

“You are such a liar,” he teases. “You’re just like all those Stephen King wannabes,” he jokes, turning away from you.

You laugh at his silliness. You remain for a while, chatting about life and the town.

“The city is wild. I’m getting used to the silence, I think,” you tell him, having moved to– illegally– sit on the tower with him.

“Is the crime really so crazy out there?”

“Yeah, I mean… most of that is just there’s so many people crammed into such a small place. People go nuts.”

“Damn.”

“No crime here?”

“Not here, no, but um… about twenty miles north there’s this beach town, it’s a complete tourist getaway, but they got rocked by some shark attacks a few years back.”

“Some shark attacks?” you repeat his casual wording, shocked.

“Sorry. That sounded insensitive, it was really scary. That place is on its last legs now.”

“Well, yeah. Who wants to stay at the Jaws resort?”

“Bull shark, probably. The same thing happened in nineteen-sixteen. It was pretty gruesome.”

“Are you fucking with me?” you question him seriously, eyes squinted.

“I’m being serious, look it up.”

“Huh. Shit.” You sit back, eyes wandering to the lighthouse.

“Have you ever met the person who works up there?”

“Yeah, he’s fucking creepy.”

“I didn’t think so.”

“You met him?”

“Mhm. Last night.”

“Remmick? The lighthouse guy? You met him?”

“Yeah…? He was jogging.”

“Fucking weirdo,” Chris mutters. “He’s a complete shut-in.”

“How long has he been here?”

“Couple years? I don’t really know when he got here, he just… was there one day.”

“Weird.”

“Yeah, well. We used to have a night lifeguard, and– listen, I can admit having a girl out here on her own was pretty stupid– not that girls are… incapable or something-”

“I get it.”

“Right. And… full disclaimer, this girl really liked shrooms, but she swears up and down that she saw that guy covered in blood and eating a seal.”

“Whoa.”

“I mean, there was a dead seal on the beach, she was right about that.”

“Great white?”

“Oh, for sure. I’m think he was probably just doing that creepy-ass night jogging by the tower when that seal washed up, and… sometimes the sharks don’t fully kill the things-”

You grimace.

“I know, it’s pretty sad. Anyway, probably it was yowling and her fucking shroomed out brain conjured up that pretty picture. But he’s just a weird guy. He’s totally nocturnal. I’ve never seen the guy in the daytime. I’ve probably seen him six times and talked to him like… two, maybe?”

“Jeez.”

“Yeah. Anyways, sorry. That was a lot. I’d just stay away from the guy if you can. I don’t know what his deal is.”

You swiftly change the subject to movies and TV, which is good, because you two seem to share the same interests. Strangely enough, vampires are among them.

“I have sisters, so, I’ve seen Twilight about a hundred times? Maybe more?”

You laugh at that. You see him grinning and you check phone, seeing that two hours have passed.

“Shit. I have got to get back.”

“Right.”

“Thanks for the company. And the advice,” you add, nodding to the lighthouse.

“Um… would you want to grab a drink, tomorrow?”

“Oh. Yeah, sure. Um… where?”

“It’s called The Weasel. It’s definitely a townie bar, but… the drinks are cheap.”

You are fiending for an espresso martini, and you fear you’ll have to settle for an old reliable at a dive bar. 

“Alright.”

“Cool. Um… eight o’clock sound good?”

“Eight o’clock sounds great.”

“Awesome. See you there.”

“I will see you there.”

Your back hits a tree as you pant, unable to run anymore. Your lungs burn as you gasp for cold night air in a dark, damp forest. You’re barefoot, in a wet nightgown that sticks to your skin and you’re terrified. 

You tremble, feeling the looming presence of something evil and ancient, rising up in front of you. Met with words in a language you don’t understand, a clawed hand grips your jaw. They’re wet and sticky, hot with something you realise is blood. The creature laughs at you cruelly and on the other hand grabs a handful of your nightgown, claws ripping through the fabric as it tears a strip down the center. The hand cups between your legs. It splits your lips carefully– almost reverently– brushing a knuckle between your folds, claws away from your most sensitive skin. You gasp and shiver, hands against the tree. You’re wet, though. Soaking the creature’s hands as it coats your skin in blood. It’s so dark and your vision is blurry with tears, you only see two red spots staring at you, and the glint of pearly fangs as the jaw of the creature opens and lurches forward.

You shoot up and sigh, panting as you try to catch your breath. You’ve been plagued with these “psychosexual night terrors”, as your therapist calls them, since you finished writing SC. Some weeks they’re sparse and other ones you can’t sleep without waking up sticky and horrified. Your cortisol levels are through the roof and your sex drive is in the stratosphere. The running theory is that your frantic writing for the deadline of SC drove you just a little bit crazy, and your panic and arousal from writing about Milo’s sexy antics while your publishing house breathed down your neck combined and manifested as the scary void creature in your nightmares.

You take a cold shower that morphs into an everything shower when you remember your date with Chris. Not a date. Just grabbing a drink. Could be a date.

You feel like a kid again, having a cute summer fling with a boy at sleepaway camp with the distant bitter sweetness of knowing you’ll leave in three months. Except you are an adult woman and if you do fall in love, you could just move here forever. 

But that’s wishful thinking.

You wait at the bar patiently. You’re a punctual girl, your agent adores that about you, so you are a little early. You chat with the bartender. She’s an older woman with a thick Mainer accent. 

“Let me guess-”

“Not a horror writer,” you joke back. 

She laughs at that. Her laugh is creaky but comforting, and you can tell she’s a smoker.

“You look nervous.”

“I’m meeting somebody?”

“Yeah?”

“I won’t say who, because I’m guessing you know everyone.”

“Well, I also know who’s single and who isn’t. If you’re worried he’s married, just give me a name.”

The bar is quiet, some men play pool and a group of vacationing dads drink beers and watch some sports on an outdated television. 

You order another drink as you watch the clock behind the bar tick on.

By eight thirty, you’re sufficiently buzzed. You didn’t even get his phone number to text him.

By nine, you decide you should go home. You thank the bartender and leave her a generous tip. You’ll be too embarrassed to come in here for a while.

You take the bike home, slumping on the sofa in the living room as you kick off your heels. You feel tears pricking at your eyes and rub them away, not caring about your smudged eyeshadow or makeup. You wipe it off in the bathroom and change out of your clothes. You need another walk. Maybe you’ll run into the allegedly very creepy lighthouse man and you’ll get some inspiration. 

“I’ll show you Stephen King wannabe, dickhead,” you mutter to yourself, pulling on your coat and shoving your notebook in your pocket. 

You follow the familiar motions, down the path, out through the alcove, and down the beach. You have some angry music playing this time as you stomp down the beach and pass the lifeguard towers. Shrooms girl better thank her lucky stars she’s off night shift, because you look pissed off right now. You stalk all the way down to tower four and roll your eyes. This is a tantrum. You’re an adult.

“I thought I might see you again,” a voice calls. Remmick is on a ledge above you, leaning on the wooden railing. 

“Can I come up there?”

“I’m not gon’ tell you what to do, sweetheart.”

You try to ignore the fire that lights in you and climb the sand and rock stairs, joining him on the ledge. He sits on a bench and pats the seat next to him.

“I heard a lot about you today, from a couple locals,” you tell him, lying about it.

You get the feeling Chris was being insecure, or maybe Remmick’s stolen one too many girls from him. 

“Yeah, I’m a seal-eating nightwalker, you got me,” he jokes, his hands up in mock surrender.

You exhale through your nose. You wish you could laugh harder.

“I’m just a solitary kinda fella. People here, shit, they tight knit like fishin’ nets. They think everybody’s gotta know everybody’s business. Nobody knows mine, so they’ve been makin’ things up for the past three years.” 

“Sorry I brought it up.”

“Hey, I’d rather you hear it from me.”

He looks at you for a moment and rubs a hand over his knee.

“You look upset.”

“Yeah. I uh…”

You hesitate, and see him lean forward, actively listening.

“It’s stupid.”

He holds his hand out, gesturing for you to speak.

“I got stood up,” you admit.

“For a date?”

“Not exactly. Just drinks.”

He clicks his tongue.

“That’s no good. Must be a pretty dumb guy, to stand you up.”

“Yeah. That was a dickhead move. I’m just hoping it was more of a… ‘oh shit, I totally forgot’ kind of thing.”

He eyes you and you cross your legs.

“Still. You musta gotten all dolled up for it.”

“Yeah, I did.”

“Well, I uh… I’m not so much a bar kind of fella, but if you wanna come out here sometimes all dolled up…” he leans in, “I got some good whiskey and two glasses.”

You lean in too, close to him.

“I might take you up on that, Remmick.”

“I gotta get up there,” he murmurs, looking at your lips as he speaks.

“Right.”

He doesn’t move, locked in place for a moment. He seems to shake off the spell and sits back, scrubbing a hand down his face, wiping his mouth. It almost looks like he’s wiping away drool. He stands up.

“You uh, you alright to walk home on your own?”

Words flash in your mind, the scene from SC where Milo promises to stalk Annmarie home, which results in him watching through the window as she touches herself. You’re drunk, you realise, as the neurons in your brain flicker out and blood rushes down your body.

“Yeah, I should be fine.”

“Right.”

He starts to walk away and turns back.

“I mean it. You come up see me sometime.”

“I will.”

You mean that, too.

Remmick thumbs through your notebook. How can you even understand this stuff? Your messy handwriting is charming. He reads through descriptions of vampire lore and fangs and turning that make him chuckle. He thinks of the smell of you, that hot scent of desire and the buzzing of your intoxicated body as you sat together. He’s so fucking cold in Maine, and he hasn’t been touched in years. He imagines you’d be hot to the touch. He knows you’re frustrated, you’ve been dissatisfied with pleasuring yourself. The descriptions of sex scenes have him biting back groans and palming himself through his pants. 

He flips to the final page.

HOT LIFEGUARD

His eyes narrow as he realises who it was that stood you up. He turns the page back over, scanning through your previous writing. 

LIGHTHOUSE VAMPIRE LOVER. CLAIMS TO KILL FOR HER. STALKERY? MILO PART II. LESS TENDER. MORE EVIL.

Oh, you’re fucking crazy. 

He grins, his fangs sliding down.

He can make do with crazy.

You wake up early, painful early. You dress groggily and decide to get some air on the beach before the dickhead lifeguard starts his shift. You’re slightly hungover as you traverse down the path and through the alcove to walk on the beach. 

The light is pale and you have to watch your step for kelp as you walk down. You see something up on the sand, and your heart sinks.

It has to be a seal. It’s not breathing, so you look at the nearest lifeguard tower for the animal control. You dial the number and wait patiently.

“Hello?” a voice that sounds just as groggy as you feel answers.

“Hi, I’m um, I’m on the beach right now and I think there’s a dead seal by the first lifeguard tower.”

“Oh, hell. Sorry, miss. It’s too damn early. Do you see any marks on it?”

“It’s hard to see with the fog. Is it safe to get closer?”

“Seals aren’t half as aggressive as sea lions, miss, so go ahead.”

You step closer, squinting with the fog. It’s absolutely dead, not moving at all. You approach it cautiously, worried about what other creatures might be lurking around.

Your heart drops to the pit of your stomach.

This is not a seal.

This is Chris the lifeguard, and he’s missing an arm.

[factual-fantasy]

Heya Factual! Hope things are going as good as they can on your end! Sorry it's been a bit since my last Ask, I got sick AGAIN and have been out of commission for a while now. But at last I have returned! Sorry to see your still having some technical troubles- really hoping you can figure it all out!

Also, I wanted to thank you! While I was sick, inspired by your art, I decided to give Sky a try on mobile (just got a new phone), and while I'm still super early in the game, it seems really cool! I'm not sure how linear the game is, but I figured I'd ask, as a veteran, do you have any advice or pointers for a beginner? Anything of interest I should check out or invest in? (Oh, and also, sorry about the color swap disappointments, sounds like a real bummer!)

And lastly, unrelated, I really liked the Pomni and Gummigoo art you did a few days back! I really like both of them together, and would love to see more of their story later down the road! Though I was wondering, you mentioned Max and Chad both stuck around in your AU too! Any cool redesign or story ideas for those two? Do they stick with Gummigoo, or have they branched out over time into the other friend groups?

(Color swap disappointment post) (Pomni and Gummigoo post)

Hello! Oof, sorry to hear that you got sick again <:(( But I'm glad you seem to be feeling better! As for my tech issues I have gotten a new chord for my tablet and have downloaded a fresh FireAlpaca. So far none of the screen glitches have come back and FireAlpaca is working perfectly! :))

Also thank you! :DD I'm glad you liked it!! :}} And while Chad's ref sheet is done, Max's is still in the sketch stage. I just haven't gotten around to finishing him <:/

Now their friend groups.. I was thinking that not many circus goers really vibe with NPCs all that much. So the number of people who they can make genuine friendships with is limited.. that being said I think Chad and Max would find a solid friendships with Gangle and maybe Zibble and uhhh... Ms. Wiggles..? Maybe? :0

Gangle has a soft spot for NPCs thanks to Bella and respects them more than others. So out of the 3 I think their friendships would be strongest with her.

Now sky.. ohhh boy prepare for a wall of text <XDD (Note there is a little spoiler for something in Golden Wasteland!)

Alrighty, so when I got this ask I sat down and made a list of every little nugget of sky advice I could possibly think of. Until eventually I took a step back and realized that a lot of it wasn't really solid advice or pointers <XDD so I cut the list down into somethings that I either wish a veteran would have taught me when I was a moth. Or things I found out too late and missed out on something or anything like that. Plus some advice I've tired really hard to beat into other moths heads for their own good but they never understand me in game <XDD

First off. Seasons, reoccurring events and non reoccurring events. Its important to know the difference between the three for this advice.

Seasons are limited-time themed events that come with the option of purchasing an Season Pass, which allows players to access extra Cosmetics and Expressions during the Season in exchange for an in-game purchase.👇👇👇

~~~~~

Special Events (also called Holiday Events). These are limited-time events introducing new cosmetics themed around real-life celebrations. Most Special Events recur annually. Some of these events take place in the Secret Area, accessible from the Vault of Knowledge. They are separate from, but may overlap with, Seasonal Events and Double Currency Events.👇👇👇

~~~~~

Non-recurring Events (or Short Events). These events are special or unannounced events that do not repeat or return due to their special characteristics. This list also includes events that have not been confirmed to return nor have a history of recurrence.👇👇👇

~~~~~

Alrighty, got that all processed? I hope so <XD Now onto my advice.

1: Collaborative in app purchase items (items you need to buy with real money) will never return. Let me explain.

In sky there is a reoccurring event made by sky called days of fortune. (Its basically a Chinese new year event) Its going on right now actually! :0 This event has come back once a year every year. And the cosmetics that you need to purchase with real money have come back every time too.

However, the Cinnamoroll collaborative event? That event and all of the items it brought with it will not reoccur.

You have to be careful and check every event and make sure its one that will return. If its a collab season like Cinnamoroll and you don't buy the items? They will vanish and you wont have the chance to buy them ever again :( I learned my lesson the hard way when I didn't buy the fox plush and the yellow scarf from season of the little prince years and years ago. 😔 Up to this point the little prince's in app purchase items have not returned since.

This goes for collaborative seasons as well. Season of the little prince, season of aurora and season of moomin, etc, will not have their in app purchase items return. Be careful to know which is which during the event/season so you don't regret anything!

Another note about non returning items: While individual spirits that you can relive the memories of, can return as traveling spirits once every 2 weeks.. any items that the guide of that season offers will be unavailable after the season ends. 👇👇👇

Also speaking of traveling spirits, here's some advice I had to figure out myself. As someone who has every single traveling spirit in the game? As long as you have 200 candles, 40 hearts and 20 ascended candles? You will be able to afford all the cosmetics from ANY traveling spirit that shows up. If you keep a nice candle run schedule this wont be too hard to keep up with!

Also note about traveling spirits. They can take a looong time to return. When I first started playing I bought out half the items a traveling spirit offered before he left. I knew he would come back so I wasn't upset. But it took 2 REAL LIFE YEARS. 2 WHOLE YEARS for him to FINALLY come back. So this is why I advise you be really careful with the 200🕯️,40💝 and 20🧨. It would suck a lot if a spirit showed up that you really liked!.. Only for you to not afford it and have to wait a year or two to see it again <XDD

Now currency. Sky tries to make out that ascended candles are the most valuable currency. This is a load of bologna. By far the most valuable and sought after currency is hearts. You can go and get ascended candles by yourself all you want. But hearts have to be given to you by other players in one way or another. Which makes them EXTREMELY hard to get for some people. My advice is to hoard those things like your life depends on it. Try to have a stock pile of at least 30 to prepare for any temporary and expensive items that may come your way. Don't go and blow them all on the home spirits like I did <XDD

Now candle runs.. a lot of players will tell you you have to do a candle run through the ENTIRE GAME to keep up with sky's bonkers prices. Which is sometimes true... However, I have recently discovered this candle run route on YouTube that has helped me loads! I modified it a little and don't do the turtle thing, but if you're worried about runs that take hours this could be very useful to you! About a week or soo of keeping up with it and I'm almost at 400 candles! :)))

Another thing I want to advise is the whole ultimate reward thing in the home constellations. (Random google images)

The game will tell you that if you ascend all the spirits in a realm constatation, that it'll unlock the "ultimate reward". Which is that question mark in the middle. Typically this means you just gotta buy every single item from every single spirit in that constellation and the reward will be unlocked.

THAT IS NOT THE CASE HERE!! You do NOT have to buy the VERY EXPENSIVE tier 2 capes that some spirits offer. Just everything else. So repeat you buy everything the spirits offer, but you DO NOT have to buy the super expensive tier 2 capes in order to unlock the ultimate reward. Save your hearts, you're welcome! XDD

Now the Golden Wasteland advice. As a veteran I NEED to teach you HOW to burn down this plant in wasteland.

This plant is in the last area before the temple in wasteland. Not to be confused with the GIANT PLANT that's in the area infested with Krill. This is the smaller one after it. And there has been DOZENS UPON DOZENS of times a moth has come by to help me burn it down and not known how to do it. I've sat there for 20 minutes each time trying DESPERATLY to communicate what order to burn the plant down but they never get it. So I shall teach you!

Hopefully that little comic got my point across! XD

Another word of advice is to check out nastymold on YouTube! She is a very sweet and soft spoken YouTuber that plays the beta version of sky. She gets all the updates early and makes short videos explaining everything you need to know about any events or seasons. If you're ever confused about anything or are afraid you may miss out on something in an event, just check out her channel! No doubt she's already covered it and explained it for you so you don't miss nothing!

Now my last word of advice for you is this. Take the game slow. Really soak up your moth days and take your time playing it.

Many veteran players are heartbroken that they let another veteran drag them through their moth days and didn't really get to explore or experience anything naturally for themselves. And other veterans just miss their moth days in general. When the game felt huge and there was so much to explore and so many things to save and grind for.

I don't think I'm like that personally, I'm way more relaxed as a veteran knowing I understand how the game works and I'm not missing out on anything. But I can understand missing those moth days feeling like a kid running around and seeing all the beautiful things for the first time.

So just take things nice and slow. Soak up the game at a nice pace. if there's an event that you'd like to partake in but don't understand it just watch nastymold. She always has a sweet little video that tells you all you need to know without really dampening your moth experience. You can only be a moth once.

Well that's all the actually practical advice I had on my list. I hope you find some use in this wall of text XDD thanks for reading and see you in the skies! 💞🕊️

[asnowperson]

An essay on the theme of children-parent relationships in Hagio Moto's works by Murakami Tomohiko

For years, I avoided reading the essays that were included at the end of bunkoban volumes. Reading Japanese prose felt like a chore to me, to be honest. A too high of a hurdle. And most of the time, the contents went over my head.

That being said, since I started reading them, I've come across some pretty interesting ones. The analysis written by Murakami Tomohiko, manga critic, at the end of Mesh's vol. 3 (Hakusensha Bunko, 1994) was particularly interesting for me. So, I tried my hand at translating butchering it. The author compares the boys in Hagio's manga and their family issues. You can find it below the cut.

If anyone wants to read the original, I can send pics/scans!

Province of children 

Murakami Tomohiko  (Manga critic) 

For a child, what does it feel like to be neglected by their parents? 

Mesh is the protagonist of this story. His mother, elopes with a man when he was young. His father, doubting whether he’s Mesh’s real father or not, drives him away from himself, and places him in a boarding school in the faraway Switzerland. For 12 years of his life, he believes that his mother abandoned him, and his father hates him. It’s not hard to imagine how deep the scars such feelings left in Mesh’s heart are.  

Mesh’s mother gave him a girl’s name, “Françoise-Marie.” We do not know if she wanted to have a daughter that bad, but as Mesh was separated from his mother when he was 2, he never knew the truth. But how much of a deciding factor that name became for him, and how it kept bearing heavy on him in his later years, are beyond any doubt.

When Mesh was 12, silver locks started to appear on both sides of his blond hair. After seeing a proof of genetics at work, his father finally recognized him as his own son. But that wasn’t the salvation the he was looking for. When his father shifted the blame on Mesh’s mother’s licentious behavior  for doubting his paternity, a new wound was opened on the young boy's heart.  

“I won’t say that my mother was a saint. But for a child who lives in a dormitory... a mother something that he needs.” 

Thus, in chapter 1, "Mesh,” our protagonist runs away from his paternal home. He is picked up from the streets of Paris by Millon, a young art forger. In the final chapter, “Sure Love and  Real Death,” he is reunited with his mother, now living in her homeland of Lorraine. She is mentally instable and still running after the image of her "daughter" who never existed. Mesh is an abandoned child who hates his father so much that he wants to kill him, and who is struggling to break free from her mother’s chains. This manga chronicles his story of breaking free from his parents.  

Children discarded by their parents. Children separated from their parents. Such children fumbling their way in their quest to find their personal salvation had been recurring motif in Hagio Moto’s works before Mesh. It is also is the principal theme of this work.

If we look back, in "Bianca (ビアンカ)," she drew a girl who danced away the stress the divorce of her parents caused in a forest. In “Girl on Porch with Puppy (ポーチで少女が小犬と),” she shows us another girl who sees the world through rose-colored glasses. Grown-ups who lost their dreams point their fingers at her, and shoot her with death rays. Or take Emil Bruckhardt from “Snow Child (雪の子).”  He was taken in by his grandfather after his parents’ death, who anly accepted for taking the child in if it was a "boy." 12 years of Emil's life was spent by his side, pretending to be a boy. Young Tim from “Poor Mama (かわいそうなママ)” pushes his mother out of the window. He could no longer bear witnessing her misery, as she spent her days sitting at the window sill, gazing off in the distance, and sighing. The free-spirited and brave Eru of the Nobe family in “Red-haired Cousin (赤ッ毛のいとこ)" shows no sign that would make you think that she is an orphan.  

They were all children torn apart from their parents.They had to find somewhere to belong, and find it themselves.  

The Poe Clan has two boys who were taken away from their biological human parents and turned into vampires, destined to live until eternity. If we think about under the same light, we can say it's their story of trying their hardest to create a pseudo-family for themselves time and time again on their endless journey. The beautiful Poe instalment, "Birds’ Nest (小鳥の巣)," and works like "Heart of Thoma (トーマの心臓)" that followed it, all take place in worlds that have nothing but boys torn apart from their families. It is no coincidence that dormitories were chosen as their settings.  

Mesh was published in Shogakukan’s Petit Flower magazine between the 1980 summer issue and 1984 June issue. Mesh was preceded by "The Visitor (訪問者)" in the 1980 Spring issue.  

In "The Visitor," we follow a central character from "The Heart of Thomas," Oskar Reiser, during his childhood, before he starts to live at the dormitory. Its main theme is directly connected to that of Mesh. Young Oskar’s parents quarrel over his birth. One day, a single gunshot steals that little boy’s mother from him forever. The one who fired the shot was his father. The boy covers up for his father, and the two set out on journey with no destination. However, Oskar’s father leaves him at the school, of which the principal is an old friend of his and Oskar's real father, and leaves for Southern America alone.  

Oskar kept yearning for his father, the father who stole his mother away from him, without begrudging him. He did so, because he had nothing else in life to cling onto. As his father and mother argued about his paternity, the child lost that household as the place he belonged. Young Oskar’s only wish was to be forgiven by his parents, and to believe that he would be acknowledged as the son of that family. To make his wish come true, to beg for his father’s forgiveness, Oskar covers up for his father, the murderer of his mother, and sticks even closer to him.

Our protagonist Mesh is a direct continuation of the image of boyhood we see in  "The Visitor"s Oskar Reiser. This link continues until Hagio’s current serialization, "A Cruel God Reigns", and shapes the main plot of her stories. “Children abandoned by their parents” has been present as a principal theme since Hagio Moto's early works. The turning point which made this theme even deeper, might be just this period that connects "The Visitor" to "Mesh."

How did Mesh rationalize his mother giving him a girl’s name? He mostly introduces himself using his alias, “Mesh,” to new acquaintances, and he is very adamant about it. Those who are unaware of the circumstances are left perplexed by that name, and mistake Mesh for a girl. He seems to find that amusing deep down. He crossdresses and appears on stage, and he is approached by homosexual men. Both makes him feel uncomfortable. Yet, he doesn’t seem to have a the willpower to resist.

Actually, I have also experienced something similar. So I believe I understand how Mesh feels a little.  

When I was roughly Mesh’s age, I was a child who liked to act like a girl. In high school, I put a tablecloth on my desk in class, made flower arrangements with artificial flowers in an empty wine bottle instead of a proper vase, and listened to lectures while holding a stuffed doll. Mine was quite a free-minded school, and it was an age when all kinds of rebellious acts were "in." But still, when I think back upon it, what I did seems outrageous to me. Maybe I was just too eccentric, which is why my teachers never said anything to me.  

I was jealous of my mother’s colorful outfits. I often borrowed and wore them. Her sleek green trench coat and tank top with pink and white borders from Kamoi Youko’s underwear brand, Tunic, were my favorites. I once even made a dress for myself. I chose the fabric with my girlfriend, did the basting at her place, and she sewed it for me. She tagged along because she found it to be fun, but I’m certain that she was weirded out.  

I am still a sucker for stationary and fancy items girls would like. If I go to Sony Plaza or American Pharmacy, I am confident that I can spend half a day there. There aren’t many fathers who would go to buy picture books and plushies for their kid, but get carried out and just buy whatever they want. 

Putting it like that makes me sound like a man with perverse hobbies, but sadly, I am not such inclined. I have never felt attracted to men, and never have I ever wanted to be a woman. My interest in crossdressing had something different in it. But I am interested in feminine, rather, “girlish” things, but it only means that I am slightly different than your average, common man.  

That being said, my mother’s influence on me cannot be ignored. When I finished my dress, it was her who was the happiest and told me to wear it and take a little tour outside. During my freshman year in university, she was the one who lamented the most when I cut my hair that was reaching my butt, and made a hairpiece with my hair for me. When I was in grade school, I once trimmed my eyelashes with a pair of scissors because they were getting in the way when I was using the microscope. I remember her being frustrated to the point of bursting into tears, and getting so angry with me.  

I believe it was my mother who slowly created my very particular aesthetic sense by praising things like long eyelashes, lustrous, straight hair, a slender physique which becomes female school uniforms. All things that would be the charm points of budding young girls, and she did it at every chance. I am an only child, and have no siblings. When I was a child, my mother once asked me if I wanted to have little brothers or sisters. I told her that I would like to have an older brother, which seemed to perplex her. Maybe my mother wanted to have a daughter. She could be looking for the shadow of the daughter she never had in me.  

I don’t really know the truth of it. Maybe she just said that I looked like a girl just to express how cute her son was, without putting much thought into it. But the words she said, words I have no recollection of, very likely had a huge impact on me and awakened something deep inside my soul. My personal preferences took shape around that idea, and before I knew it, it seeped into my entire being.  

My mother was a beautician, and was often away from home on business. After she opened her own store, she was always busy with work. But that was all there was to it, and it was not like she had left me, or we were separated by death.  And it never became a reason for my parents to hurt or to oppress me. I can say that overall, I grew up in a your rather ordinary, warm household. I still started to shape my very own personality, alongside the one my parents took part in creating. Then how about a child who feels hated, or abandoned by his parents? How would he feel? To heal the wounds he got from his parents and to ail himself, would he acknowledge it all, and accept everything? Or would complete denial be his only choice? 

That's why Mesh wanted to kill his father and break free from his mother’s curse. While he wanted to be freed from his mother’s desire to have a daughter, in some corner of his mind, he was curious about what would happen if he complied. Maybe that’s what made him stand on the stage as a woman, and occasionally enjoy being photographed as one. Maybe that’s why he sometimes shut up and endured it when men treated him like a girl.  

Maybe fulfilling his mother’s wish meant securing a place in her heart for him. It might have been a self-defense mechanism — a feeling that only children abandoned by their parents know. That’s why when he faced her, and saw that his mentally ailing mother would never accept him, a boy, Mesh said: “Just what does Marché want? How can I get close to what she wants? What should I become? Marché’s dreams, and my dreams... If only I knew...” 

“A thousand pairs of scissors. Scissors that cut and mince. I could have become a flower, a bird, a daughter... I could have become anything you wanted. I could have died a thousand deaths if you wished for it.” 

We do not know the reasons why she wanted to have a daughter. No matter what they might be, accepting them as they are, that complete subordination, is an expression of his willingness to bend to his mother's will. What does it feel like to hear “I hate this child” from a mother who can’t even tell his son apart? But Mesh even accepts his mother trying to stab him with shears without saying a single word.  

Where does Mesh’s determination, which is almost commendable, come from? What steeled his resolve so? I think it was something closer to despair, rather than a wish to be delivered. Mesh’s hatred and his murderous thoughts towards his father are the two sides of the same coin. Killing his father, who hated both him and his mother, and accepting death by the hands of the mother who forgot her own son: They are actually one and the same. Thus, the child abandoned by his parents try to erase his ties to them. By resetting everything, he tries to make it as if he never existed.  

There is probably just one thing he’s trying to say with his behavior.  

"I’m sorry.  

"I couldn’t be the child you wanted.  

"I couldn’t meet your expectations.  

"I’m sorry that I was born..." 

In “The Visitor”, in the middle of his endless journey with his father, Oskar says these words time and time again: "I will be a good child. I won’t talk about my mom anymore. I’m sorry." Then he obliges his father by starting to live in a dormitory, and waits for his father to be back from South America. This must have been no different than choosing death for Oskar, a child who wanted to be the son of a warm household. 

When he doesn’t resist his mother’s attempt to kill him, something inside of Mesh shattered to pieces. He arrives at Paris train station with his broken hopes as his baggage, and he catches a glimpse of his father boarding a train. His father, who acknowledged him as “his son who shares the same blood as him” without so much as a thought about how that made Mesh feel. All Mesh can do is to stand there, motionless. Even if that's the only place he can come back to now.

All children need a place they belong. A place where they feel they can just “be.” Children do not belong to their parents, or other adults. No one shall undermine their right to self-determination. Mesh shows us how much hardship children have to endure, and the sacrifices they have to make when grown-ups forget this fact.   

[savingsallow]

— (5) Sad Facts About Val

Things about my MC— Valentine Black —that make me question why I let my child suffer.

content warning: contains themes of trauma, grief, mention of loss of loved ones, nightmares, mental health struggles, isolation and emotional distress. please proceed with caution.

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1.) Recurring Nightmares

Val enjoyed a happy and healthy relationship with her parents despite their identities as dark wizards. The first four years of her life were filled with laughter and joy. In fact, many of her fondest memories are vivid, tracing back to her early childhood.

But that joy was short-lived.

Tragically, Val witnessed her parents' deaths while hiding in a cabinet, peering through a small hole. This traumatic event became one of her most haunting recurring nightmares, alongside the vivid memory of her best friend's lifeless body from her time at the Muggle boarding school.

These nightmares drive Val to avoid sleep whenever possible; short naps are the worst, bringing her the most haunting visions of her past. At night, she bravely travels into her dreams, seeking patterns and lessons, yet she always awakens in terror. To distract herself, she immerses herself in her projects and ideas.

Though her erratic sleep schedule takes a toll on her health, it has unexpectedly allowed her to excel in her studies—particularly in her favorite subjects like potions. She even created a potion fitting for her situation called the "Vitality Veil." As the name suggests, it restores natural vigor and creates a subtle aura of vitality that enhances one’s appearance and can last up to 12 hours.

Essentially, it’s a potion that makes Val seem put together, while in truth, she feels like a chaotic mess.

2.) Stealth Mastery

After being reluctantly adopted by her uncle, Val realized her freedom had limits. She has always resisted authority, never one to follow rules blindly. By day, she mastered the art of compliance, driven by a desperate need for her new family's approval; by night, however, she let herself roam free.

Val knows all the creaky floorboards to avoid, as well as the hidden passages where she can escape. She scours the house for a safe haven to dive into her latest obsession—be it a book about the universe or potion experiments.

House-elves often assisted her in sneaking around unnoticed. The house-elves of the House of Black, including Kreacher and Scrope, became her friends. Sometimes they'd play wizard’s chess together or cook meals for her as she immersed herself in her books and potions.

3.) Isolation

Val has never felt a true sense of belonging. Growing up in London, her extended family made it clear—especially during family gatherings—that she was a burden. Desperate for their affection, she felt the need to don a deranged mask, something she hated but believed was necessary for survival.

Feeling like an outsider in her family was compounded by her alienation in the Muggle world, where her peers considered her an oddball. This constant rejection cultivated a friendship with solitude. It spurred her obsession with researching topics of interest and experimenting with potions in her own unique way.

The closest companions she had were the house-elves, her stuffed animals (which Aunt Ursula eventually disposed of), and her best friend from the Muggle boarding school—who tragically passed away too soon. In the depths of isolation, Val found a friend in solitude, and beneath her facade of preoccupations lies a profound sense of loneliness.

4.) Silent Cries

Though Val has grown more comfortable expressing her emotions, especially at Hogwarts, she struggles to cry in public. It’s not that she doesn’t want to; it’s that she can’t bring herself to do so. Raised in an environment that viewed emotions as weaknesses, she grappled with her naturally expressive nature.

Her Aunt Ursula would lock her in her room for showing strong feelings, teaching Val to control her emotions too well—so well, in fact, that she finds it difficult to cry, even when the urge washes over her. Instead, she has learned to cry silently, in the quiet of night when no one can see.

Even after making friends in her fifth year and gradually opening up to them, Val has never shed tears in their presence.

One of the few times Val almost cried in front of her friends was when she witnessed Sebastian spiraling down a darker path in a misguided attempt to "save his sister," all while seeing Ominis worry for him as he used Unforgivable curses, a path he had vowed to abandon.

Conflicted and terrified, Val struggled to think of the next right steps to take to help her friends, all while handling her growing yet destructive fire magic and Ancient Magic, both of which were becoming unstable due to her involvement with the Dark Arts, especially the Unforgivables.

5.) Layers

Having endured so much, Val has constructed walls around her heart, protecting whatever happiness remains.

At first glance, one might assume she leads a lighthearted and comfortable life; many perceive her as a spoiled brat from the House of Black, underestimating her bubbly personality.

But beneath this facade lies a heart marred by trauma. Though she may seem like an open book, with her genuine remarks and emotional transparency, don’t be deceived. Beneath that cheerful exterior lies a guarded, wounded soul.

Her trust issues run deep; as a child, she invented her own alphabet so no one could decipher her journal entries. Later, at Hogwarts, she enchanted her journal, rendering her words invisible to others—only her whimsical doodles visible to the untrained eye.

Once she begins to share her secrets—like her treasured niffler stuffed toy—freely divulges her quirky ideas, lets you hug her, and miraculously allows you to witness her tears, then you have truly earned her trust.

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🥞 thanks for reading this rather angsty facts! ❤️‍🔥

🥞 non native english speaker, so teeny tiny grammatical errors are very much possible XD

🥞 casually lore dropping bc why not

🥞 leaving here more links about val in case you're a newbie to her lore:

✨ 10 Facts About Val

✨ Val & Hairstyle

✨ Val's Character Introduction

[summertide-treehouse]

season 1 review season 2 review

I finished Season 3 of my Ninjago Rewatch,  here’s my review. holy yapper

I think it’s going to be a recurring theme that I like each season a bit more than the last one; but Season 3 especially more because it seemed to be surer of itself, as well as condensing it’s plot into 8 episodes.  I found the pacing much better and I don’t think any episode had any drag. 

This season was VERY engaging, even during the slower moments I was very invested while watching.  I’m not a big fan of technology / hacker type plots, but I was very involved in watching.   In the later episodes, I was stressed while watching.  The stakes were very high only shifted to be more dangerous as the plot progressed.

It followed a consistent theme of “we failed this time, next time we won’t” and while I want to say it got annoying after awhile, personally I found it realistic.  In the previous seasons, the threats they were faced with were passed enemies coming back, or fates historically warned about.  This season, it was ENTIRELY new.  They had no ancient scrolls or old foretellings to warn and give hints, and with the new technology advancements, the Ninja were literally going in blind.  The most they had was the Serpentines legend about the Golden Master, and even then; it was also just a story with the perspective of the Ninja being the enemies.  The entire Season, the Ninja were always at a disadvantage, which made every attempt of desperation feel like one.

I also noticed that there was a consistent lesson of using the enemies strengths against them.  Starting from Garmadons “art of the silent fist” lesson to using armor that was used against the FSM to defeat the Overlord, I found that to be a very intriguing.  I found it to be a commentary of the balance as well; good things can be used for evil, and things used for evil can be turned back to good things.  Even when the Ninja were trapped at in a position where they thought was one of no return, they still managed to use their resources to prevail.

As for the characters, I like how they were all written here.  I enjoyed Lloyd and Garmadons dynamic and them finally having a father-son relationship.  Kai and PIXAL had a very funny dynamic in ‘Codename; Arcturus’ and I hope we see more of that.  I thought Kai was a little out of character in that episode though, he was super confident and cocky while the previous ones he struggled more with insecurities, but I think he was also riding the high with the belief they defeated the Overlord; just to later find out they didn’t.  While I still think Garmadons redemption should’ve gone a little differently, his oath to never fight again did hold real weight and his lesson to fight without fighting was what taught the Ninja how to keep going.  Garmadon dropping this oath to fight Pythor after they took Lloyd was kickass too. 

Garmadon and Wu had a very interesting dynamic this season.  Even when Wu was taken over by the Overlord, they always stayed close.  While they were allies again and seemed to rekindle the brotherhood they had before, there was still times where they clashed.  Garmadon seemed to be more of a “realist” and I think Wu is more “spiritual” compared to him, believing in faith and that, so long as the Ninja continue to head in the right direction, things will work out okay, while Garmadon is more in the moment, and seems to stick more to what the plan was, and worries when things get off track.  

However, I think both of their sides are good and provides each other a different perspective.  Wu knows the Ninja MUCH better than Garmadon does, both as a team and personally, Wu has much more trust and faith in them compared to Garmadon.  Garmadon also seems to be a bit of a pessimist; he didn’t agree with Lloyd giving up his Golden Power to share with the Ninja, told Wu the Ninja won’t back from space, and overall expects the worse out of a situation.  But, he also admits he needs to learn trust.  I would’ve liked to see Wu agree with Garmadon for something in his perspective as well, maybe seeing him take the Ninja out of a situation he knows could be dangerous, but I don’t think it’s something that took away from the season or makes me think of the character more negatively.  

My only complaint I had was the infamous love triangle between Nya, Jay and Cole.  But, I don’t think it was anywhere near as bad as I remembered it.  It was actually kind of funny, and truthfully; Cole didn’t really have much to bring to the table other than reacting to things Jay was saying.  It was implied Jay and Nya were having couple problems in the first episode, so I imagine when Nya was told that Cole was compatible with her instead, she just had self doubt and wasn’t sure if she could commit to Jay, considering the tension they already had together.  I don’t think Cole shared any big feelings either, the only time where Cole seemed to return anything was when he and Nya were talking about their students, but that wasn’t enough to only be taken romantically, at least in my opinion.  Cole might’ve just had sudden feelings after this was made aware to him, and might’ve continued to play along out of curiosity for what Nya would do, and probably just to keep messing with Jay, since Jay cared about it MUCH more than Cole did.  In the finale Nya did hug Cole, I remember that being something discussed about before and something I noticed, but I don’t think it had anything to do with the love triangle directly; their friend just died, and Nya hugged the closest person there was.  I don’t really think it was necessary to the Season, it only seemed to give Nya some develop or flaw in her character, but since there was no time to expand on it, it didn’t really add anything positive.  But again, I didn’t find to be as bad as I was remembering, so it didn’t really put a damper on the experience.

My only other complaint; I wish the side-villains had more screen time.  Cryptor didn’t really get anything until the last few seasons, and I found him to be very interesting when he was on screen, like when he told Pythor he didn’t want his army to be taken advantage of, it would’ve been cool to see his character have more use than just another pawn of the Overlord.

The finale was rough, but soo good.  I probably shouldn’t have watched it so close to my grandmas deathday, but if a Lego show can resurface such feelings then I say it was written WELL.  The ONLY thing I wish was different, was explaining a bit more on.. How Zane even sacrificed.  Part of it was self explanatory, but going in at first got confusing.  If I’m not wrong, Zane touched the Golden Power, and doing so was beginning to damage him, but also fuel his elemental powers to it’s strongest; which is what made it so strong to destroy the Overlord, and what ultimately ended up killing him.  The voice actors had rent due because the Ninja’s reactions watching it and being dragged away was gut punching.  Kai being the one to speak on the Ninja’s behalf during the ceremony and reveal of the Titanium Statue took me aback, I didn’t think Kai would be the public speaking type out of the Ninja; but it fit, and was memorable.  The finale ends with PIXAL being “contacted” by Zane, or something?  Not complaining, but the cliffhanger might’ve been too soon, and didn’t really make a whole lot of sense.  That might also have been the point, though.

Overall, the season was great.  Every review seems to get longer; the show is definitely expanding and only getting better from here. It was a fun watch.  Solid 8.5/10

[speakyn]

Hello, fellow Lucky Luke readers! A few days ago I found out there was an art book of Lucky Luke, but it's apparently not translated in English, so I thought it would be nice to share some of it with you, cause it's really interesting.

Back in 2016, Lucky Luke turned 70 years old. A museum(or a festival) wanted to celebrate this in Angoulême(a French city). From the 28th of January till the 16th of October, there was an exhibition called L'art de Morris(=The art of Morris). It was meant as a tribute to Lucky Luke, one of the most popular European comics, whose stories are translated in at least 29 languages and has sold more than 300 million copies. The exhibition also paid tribute to Maurice de Bevere, aka Morris, the (only) creator of Lucky Luke (just like Hergé). But unlike most great comic artists of those back in the day, Morris almost dedicated his entire career - 55 years - to Lucky Luke. First he did it alone and around the 1950s, along with René Goscinny, and other scenarists after Goscinny's death. During this entire time, Morris drawed around 70 albums which he drew in Belgium, Mexico and the United States.

To get to the point, this exhibition was later brought over in book form, however, has not been translated (as far as I know) in English, only French and Dutch. I managed to get a copy of it from the library and wanted to share a few parts I thought were really cool and interesting, along with some pictures(I already apologize for the quality, cause my camera is shit). Of course I won't show everything(copyright and stuff and it's also way too big), but nevertheless, I thought it would be nice to let it be more known.

The book has 3 big chapters: The birth of an icon, the golden era and archetypes and recurring themes. It also has subchapters explaining Morris' life, the art evolution, and the last being someone explaining something about Lucky Luke that they wish to speak about.

To warn: The book itself is in Dutch and I am just translating it to the best of my abilities, but I am no professional in any way, so I apologize if some things sound weird!

[krawwan]

Writing Interview Tag Game

The lovely @kimberbohwrites tagged me – thank you so much!

When did you start writing?

I don’t remember a time before stories. Partially it might have been due to my environment, that I had to escape somehow – even if I could only retreat into my own mind and the worlds I could make up there. They weren’t really finished narratives, I was mostly into making up worlds that my friends would add characters to, and we would draw comics around the stories that developed from that .

Although that stopped when I was around fifteen or sixteen. The abuse at home kept escalating with my growing independence, and I couldn’t maintain the connection to myself necessary for true creativity and the willful ignorance regarding what was happening to me I had developed to protect myself. There is no writing or other piece of art from my time, because I just stopped being able to do it.

Stories I need to live, said ignorance I needed to survive, so it had to take precedence.

Ten years later or so, I’ve been reclaiming my own perception of events with, among other things, half a decade of therapy now. I can touch my own ideas again without them slipping through my hands.

BG3 is it’s own special joy here – it’s the first fandom I’ve really written for, recently, and that’s mostly thanks to the writer friends I’ve found through it (my pedipalps <3).

Are there different themes or genres that you enjoy reading than what you write?

Outside of fanfic, yes! I read a lot of classic stuff – Thomas Mann, Michail Bulgakow, Oscar Wilde are the last few authors I read in that department. Fiction-wise, I enjoy things that explore the more ambiguous sides of human emotion, or generally darker and more serious stuff – Das Parfüm by Patrick Süskind (The perfume) for example, although that’s something I also write about. I’d also count Accabadora by Michaela Murgia amongst that, though that’s also a historically inspired and socio-critical. Tbh I mostly read nonfiction though, Roberto Saviano’s works on the Ndragheta and other organised crime are currently back on my mind.

In fanfic, I’m pretty stuck in my tastes as far as themes go, but there are some characters that don’t inspire me to write, but that I like reading about – Rolan for example (though I might have something cooking for him), or Halsin.

Can you tell me about your writing space?

I often lug my laptop to the university library or onto my balcony, but I’ve also recently treated myself to new desk equipment – so I’ve started using it more, now that I have a second monitor, a nice mechanical keyboard and a chair that doesn’t kill my back.

One thing about my writing space though – it has to be spotless. I can’t deal with crumbs on my table or unfolded laundry lying around.

This all goes for writing itself. My ideas I mostly write down by hand in my notebook, wherever I am in that moment.

What’s your most effective way to muster up a muse?

I don’t. I either have something to say and then I sit down and say it, or I don’t. Your mind also needs to lie fallow every now and then.

If the words aren’t flowing when the ideas themselves are there, it’s usually because something else is taking up my attention. Be it any kind of mess (as I said…) or something I’m avoiding in other areas of my life, that has to be taken care of first.

Are there any recurring themes in your writing?

Some are fairly common in fanfic – trauma, the aftermath of sexual abuse etc. I think some of my other patterns are characters that are neither good nor bad, the need to accept yourself and what you’ve done even if others may not forgive you, and love that is built, not found.

What is your reason for writing?

The words have to go somewhere, or I start to get restless.

In seriousness, I also think that stories are a chance to explore the things that often don’t have room in daily life. Especially fiction that doesn’t have to perform well, like fanfics, can leave the kind of room for the regular human messiness to breathe.

Is there any kind of specific comment or type of comment you find particularly motivating?

I haven’t published a lot yet and I haven’t received that many comments yet; So it’s hard to say. But so far I can say that whenever I can feel that my writing touched someone and they take the time to share that with me it stays with me for a long time, and keeps me motivated to keep sharing my stuff.

How do you want to be thought about by your readers?

I haven’t thought about that yet much, and the idea of someone developing a parasocial relationship makes me want to crawl out of my skin, but uh… I think I’d like my writing to feel safe to people? Not necessarily in the sense that they won’t encounter difficult themes and injustices in it, but that the darker themes I explore are handled in an informed and tasteful way.

What do you feel is your greatest strength as a writer?

I think my compassion with my characters and their actions. Nuance, in general, seems to be my thing as well – I don’t do black and white.

How do you feel about your own writing?

I’m a bit frustrated that my fictional writing is all in English, currently. It’s neither my first nor my fourth language, and it’s not my favourite language to read in either.

Aside from that… I’m growing fond of my own style, now that I’ve found my voice, sort of. My sense of humour is starting to shine through, which is also nice!

When you write, are you influenced by what others might enjoy reading, or do you write purely for yourself, or a mix of both?

So far, what I want to write and say takes precedence. I do, of course, think about the “how” of writing – how style and vocabulary can help me get my ideas across. Who knows, I could try taking requests, that might be fun.

Tagging: @dutifullylazybread @blackjackkent @invinciblerodent @faerielli and @lewdisescariot

EDIT: AND @forget-me-maybe!!! As well als @cactusmisslittle

[aita-blorbos]

AITA for avenging my brother?

hiiiii ^^ so im (30, let's say M for convenience's sake) am currently the leader of a very big sect, which was Not the plan WhatSoEVER (i'll get into it). i was born as the younger sibling to the sect heir, which meant i had free reign to basically do whatever i wanted while he got the responsibilities and stuff! great deal methinks. our father died when we were both still young due to heart issues that run in the family and also being killed. since my brother had a decade or so on me, he pretty much raised me from then on while also having the new role of official sect leader on his shoulders.

again, seems like a good deal! he was strict, and really really insisted i practiced my fighting skills (like that wasn't the literal cause of our family's heart issues) to the point that one time he like kind of burned my paper fan collection in front of me but that's like it's all besides the point okay he loved me and i loved him and we were both there for each other okay? okay

anyway he had this servant/best friend/pretty sure somethingsomething was going on there. he was kind of like a second big brother to me. our interests overlapped and he also preferred stuff like art and poetry over fighting. he understood me in a way that my brother couldn't, and he helped raise me just as much, even accompanying me to my third year of summer courses. which lol was supposed to be a one year course but i failed twice. lmao w/e

things got... bad. a war broke out, the servant betrayed us by letting a dangerous enemy out of his cell, and he and my brother had a horrible fight that ended in the former's expulsion from our sect. fast forward yadda yadda this isn't so much the part of the story it's just context but basically that turned out to be a plan to get close to the enemy sect leader so he could stab him in the back. which turned out to become a recurring theme.

the servant, now a prominent figure in his own sect, my brother, and one basically-a-celeb from another sect became this big trio (and totally a Thing) because of the role they played in ending the war. servant-now-big-boy (let's go with snbb for convenience) used that position to send my brother into a cardiac arrest by playing a melody that was supposed to soothe him differently.

so now i was alone, and with one of the current biggest sects to lead, while all i wanted to do is look cute, paint and be bisexual. you can probably imagine how i felt when i learned who did it, especially considering how not only no one else knew, but he got /rewarded/ for it by becoming a sect leader himself. soooo i got a little silly and here's where i mighttttt be tah :3

basically i started a 10+ years revenge plan. i didn't really plan a /lot/ of it, but i knew i'd have to resurrect one of my childhood friends for it to grab attention away from me etc and such and so on and so forth. but basically i also got a gay and socially rejected teenager killed for that, desecrated the corpse of snbb's mother, paid some people to spread rumours here and there, possibly killed a few cats to lure a group of people where i needed them to be, and adopted a public persona of a useless idiot who couldn't run a sect for the life of me to keep suspsicions off of me for the duration of this, which was Also a part to get back at him because that meant he, as someone responsible and sooo niceys and oh won't you please help your poor little meowmeow with the big scary emails plssss (he basically ran the sect for me lol).

to top it all off i had him killed by the one person that loved him the most (mister sir basically-a-celeb. god his jawline is stronger than my will to live) (he has gone into seclusion and is isolating himself indefinitely to mourn)

but also all this allowed my old bestie to get gay married with his longtime heartthrob

so. aita?

[joyfuladorable]

⭐️ any section of I'll Be Okay! that you're itching to speak on, i am all ears, ears for days.

Fanfic Writers: Director’s Cut

*twirls you around!!* HANNAHHH!!! 💜💜

Oh, man, so, as I made sure to point out in the Author’s Notes, this fic was inspired by This Art by my Buddy soggytommy on twt:

My writer brain was active at the time so I sat down and wrote a couple hundred words and DMed my buddy the wip, to which they responded by giving me more context about the scene: fighting the PDs, Leo accidentally blows something up, Mikey suffers the consequences.

So, the actual bts is that I Had been considering making this full angst with comfort at the end, but y’know!! I’m a sucker for levity during serious situations (which is probably why Mikey’s my fave, lol), so I tried to strike a balance there with Mikey kinda breaking the tension at multiple points, even with himself during the immediate aftermath of the explosion.

Also, I enjoy echoing/calling back to lines in my fics! The most obvious recurring one in this fic is the theme of Promises (Mikey promising he’ll be okay, Leo promising to tell him the end of the book, Mikey promising to tell someone immediately next time he gets badly injured). Don and Leo both tell each other at different points that they’ve done Enough. In Mikey’s POV, there’s Orders, with Mikey immediately following Leo’s command to Run and then later listening when he tells him to sleep. There’s also the Donnie SAINW trauma I slipped in, with both Leo and Mikey noticing he doesn’t react well upon seeing Mikey with arm injuries. Probably a few more but these are the clearest ones off the top of my head, lol!

Oh, and here are some of my favorite lines:

- “Aw, du’...” Mikey glares up at him. “Cli’ ‘angr.” << *points at my bestie* turtle who wants immediate gratification instead of suspense and probably loves to binge stories in one sitting

- A bookmark sticks out of it, tasseled with yarn and made up of layered and colorful construction paper and filled with childhood memories. A frail thing (a treasured gift) that has somehow survived all these years and unintentional moves. << *points again* baby Mikey made that :3

- The stabby thing needs to stay in his arm or else he’s off to join the Big Turtle in the Sky. << Personally the funniest joke I had Mikey think to himself next to the This Mission Blows line

- I know it’s Bad, he tells his brain as the pain whites out his vision. Stop yelling at me. I know. << *Mario falling in lava owowowow noise* if I ever actually draw this scene I apologize in advance

- Leo being up meant that they could stay up late, so Donnie would tinker or read and Raph would hog the Gameboy so Mikey would be resigned to reading comics. Sometimes, he’d slip under Leo’s blanket tent and try to read with him, asking him questions about the heroes and the villains and the story. << I wrote this Because of your (yes, You, Hannah) comment on Ch1 which made me think about Leo reading to his bros. Also, I totally drew a thing inspired by this because it’s The Most Precious Thing

- “Nope!” Mikey forces a leg to kick out of his blanket, missing Leo by a mile but sending the message loud and clear. “Y’know what? No blame game! No one wins in the blame game.” << *points for one last time* things I’ve actually done as a kid tucked in bed and a sibling says something stupid so I kicked out to let them know so

- And, he finally gets a hug from his dad, a carefully gentle thing from Splinter that he soaks in like the rays of the sun. << Actual Favorite Line that I will feel proud of til the end of time and also maybe draw at some point cuz Splinter Hug

[cloudselkie]

Shay's 2023 Tarot Purchase Round-Up

Unfortunately, I don't have time for a huge review post this year, but here are my top 10 favorite tarot decks that I purchased this year!

10. Dreams Within Dreams Tarot

- This was a Kickstarter I backed last year. The art is beautiful and the artist stated that they were inspired by their favorite anime growing up in the late 90s and early 2000s. The only reason this deck isn't higher on the list is because I found that the whiplash between some cards being fan art and some being original art was too much for me to really connect with it.

Where to buy: Kickstarter exclusive, but still available in various Etsy shops

9. Stars Lighting Up the Night Tarot

- This deck came out of nowhere and instantly became a favorite. I love the night scenes and the multiple versions of some cards so you can customize the deck. It also has the linen card texture I love! I purchased the limited edition version just to get that texture!

Where to buy:

8. Titanic Tarot: Risen Spirits (Titanic Tarot 2nd Edition)

- This version massively improves on the first (which I already loved) by removing the borders and including updated art for the pip cards that better represents the full story of the passengers of the Titanic, including before the voyage and after.

Where to buy: Mostly out of stock, but still available at some Etsy shops and online magic supply stores

7. Sleepwalker Tarot

- I ended up getting the mini because it was all that was left, but I wish I had the full size. The art is so beautiful and Iove how calming the subjects are with their eyes closed. Also, I found the full size and will definitely be purchasing!

Where to buy:

6. Witch Sister Tarot

- I waited TWO YEARS for this tarot and the art alone was worth it. I love the artist's previous deck, and stumbled on some of the art for this one on Etsy while looking for devotional items for selkie and for the Cailleach. It's finally out! The only downside is that it's a Llewellyn deck and has their usual thin cardstock.

Where to buy:

5. Shadowscape Tarot

- An oldie but a goodie. I finally got this after a few years of eyeing it, and it's definitely a great choice for being a mass market deck. Stephanie Pui-Mun Law's art is beautiful. Reminds me of old Amy Brown paintings, but far better executed.

Where to buy:

4. Starspinner Tarot

- I ADORE the art for this deck. It reminds me somewhat of CLAMP art. The art is also inclusive and bright and the deck has four different lovers cards so you can have whatever flavor you wish! This one is also mass market but great quality.

Where to buy:

3. Cozy Witch Tarot

- Of course I expected this deck to be cozy, but I was surprised with just how much I like the whole package. The card subjects are diverse not only in skin color, but in body type as well, which really stood out and made this deck one that I came back to often. The only downside is that the cards are slightly larger than standard size, so they can be difficult to handle at times.

Where to buy:

2. Monsoon Tarot

- This deck honestly has the most beautiful art of any deck I own. I'm always discovering new details in the cards and they range from cozy to dreamlike to grotesque in all the right ways. The cardstock also has that linen/playing card texture over them which makes shuffling a breeze. I use this less to read and more to just wander through and look at.

Where to buy:

1. Spirit Keeper Tarot

This one is hard to get a hold of, but so worth it. I happened to check in while the author still had some of the current edition left in stock after pre-orders on her website and managed to snag one. I LOVE working with this deck. The art is great, but the companion book is really what makes this deck incredible. The book goes over a lot of the inspiration behind each card and the symbolism. The author is of Chinese descent, so she has tied both western and eastern concepts to each card, which she lays out in the book. This has been the main deck I have read with since I got it. S tier deck.

Where to buy:

[sunwarmed-ash]

For the fic writer asks: 18, 19, 22, 40, 41

Also I don't think I saw anything like this on the list so this one's straight from my brain: Do you have notes to help you keep track of what's happening in each of your WIPs, or are you just able to do that in your head (my memory fucking sucks - I could never)

Hope you're having a good day 😘 (at first I accidently typed "gay" instead of "day" and ya know what? I DO hope you're having a good gay day 😂)

Dude thank you so much for sending these, i fucking love talking about writing and fandom <3 it brings me so much joy

18. Do you title your fics before, during, or after the writing process? How do you come up with titles?

All three!! Titling is actually my favorite part. Usually, they come from song titles, lyrics, or references that I felt either really captured the theme of the characters or the plot. Or sometimes they are the inspiration!! Sometimes they are funny, catchy or sexy in ways I think will bring people in but mostly they are song titles/lyrics haha  Almost all of the angsty Harringrove fics I wrote (13+ i think now) are MGK songs haha 2020-2022 was my all MGK all the time period because he dropped two sick fucking albums in two years and helped me out of more spirals than I can count. 

19. What is the most-used tag on your ao3?

Oh shit idk can I check that? Let me go look… Alright im too high to do that and google wasn't helpful so i'm taking a guess haha probably Smut or angst. I don't write exclusively smut or angst but almost every single fic I have has hurt/comfort scenes or sex scenes in them. Probs cuz people cry and have sex in real life haha and i'm tired of the bullshit on tv 

22. Are there certain types of writing you won’t do? (style, pov, genre, tropes, etc)

I don't write anything with scat or piss play, just not my thing so i think it would be difficult to write it for me. I don't have usually any hard no’s when it comes to writing. The content I consume is a different answer though. Likely because I have the ability to just not think about the things I don't want to think/write about whereas if I don't check does the dog die.com before a movie I’ll be panicking the whole time I’m gonna be triggered by on screen SA which seems to be a recurring theme in EVERY scary/thriller these days (fuck YOU hollywood)

40. If someone were to make fanart of your work, what fic or scene would you hope to see?

AHHHHHHHHH!!!!!!!! Dude any!!!! But i'm also a horny slut so really any of the Hankconvin, steddiegrove, harringrove, parksborn sex scenes are good with me!!

I still have the fan art  someone made me for a fic I wrote back in 2013 as my phone background :3 I have since lost touch with them on tumblr but I think about them everyday

41. Do you tend to reread fics or are you a one-and-done kind of person?

I’m a huge re-reader/reconsumer. I will watch the same show 100 times and never get tired of it. Same with the fics I read. I’m a SUCKER for that good good content 

Bonus ?: Also I don't think I saw anything like this on the list so this one's straight from my brain: Do you have notes to help you keep track of what's happening in each of your WIPs, or are you just able to do that in your head (my memory fucking sucks - I could never)

Hahahahha yes and no. If its a short fic, I'll usually just reread it before i start adding new content since I jump around between fics CONSTANTLY. If it's a long fic, like the fucking Eden club yes, I have notes because I just don't have the time to go back and reread. My docs are a total mess hahahaha I love you, thank you for theses <3 I AM HAVING A GREAT GAY DAY AND I FUCKING HOPE YOU ARE TOO!

[marketingprofitmedia]

RankNinja Review - Instantly Rank Any Website on Google's

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RankNinja Review: Overview

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RankNinja Review: About Authors

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RankNinja Review: Who Should Use It?

Artists/Content Creators

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Check Out My Previous Reviews: VidPulse AI Review, AppGen AI Review, Email Millionaire Review, VoxCraftAI Studio Review, and VisualPal AI Review.

Thank for reading my RankNinja Review till the end. Hope it will help you to make purchase decision perfectly.

[missg00dk4t]

⚠️ Trigger Warning ⚠️ graphic violence ⚠️Trigger Warning ⚠️

Comics Fangirl n°3 - Rated X

This review is about "X-force volume 1-issue 116/2001"

Plot by Peter Milligan

Art by Mike and Laura Allred

What's up my muties?

I remember it like it was yesterday. I read this article in the french version of Wizard magazine, deep in my first fangirl phase. It was centered on the events of X-force issue 116, and my prepubescent teen mind took note of the sex and violence seemingly center stage in this soft relaunch.

Years went by, and I stopped reading comics for a time, up until recently, when nostalgia brought me back. After catching up on most of the main X-titles, I recalled this Wizard article. Mind you, I'm less of a angsty edgelord, but I was still curious.

The story starts from the point of view of Axel Cluney, also known as "Zeitgeist" as he recalls his recurring nightmare. In it, he remembers the first time his mutant powers manifested, which resulted in his girlfriend at the time getting disfigured.

Axel is a celebrity now, the leader of a brand new X-force, whose name was decided on because the original team was too busy saving the world to actually copyright their title, the silly gooses!

They're a highly sponsored, televised, and commercialy driven team, packed with angsty, vain, and egotistical mutant celebrities. Edith Sawyer, also known as "U-go girl", the team's teleporter, is on performance enhancing drugs, there's frequent infighting, and the team just lost a team-mate. The replacement, Tike Alicar, the "Anarchist", does nothing to ease the already existing tension in the team.

Not only that, but it seems the polls are saying the public interest for the team is declining. But the team's publicist has just the thing to boost their public image. Classic "good guys against bad guys" action.

He sends them to take care of a ongoing hostage situation involving "Boys R us", a famous boysband. At first, all is well, the team even seems like it's getting along okay. But in his mind, Axel is still that traumatized kid, angry at the world. As he looks down at his admirers, he feels nothing but contempt.

He doesn't see the attack chopper coming.

Trigger Warning ⚠️ the following two images depict very graphic violence ⚠️Trigger Warning

As the dust settles, Axel realizes he finally remembers the girl from his dream's name. Perhaps now, he'll stop dreaming about her every night...

This issue ends on this gruesome note, with the hostages, the terrorists, along with most of the team, in pieces.

⚠️ End of Trigger Warning ⚠️

So that's volume 116 of X-force (soon to be X-statix). Needless to say, if you can't handle graphic violence, you're not going to have a very good time. The world depicted by the series seems a little darker than the rest of the Marvel universe, but also sometimes very human and down to earth. The serie's main topic is fame in general, and most specifically in regards to minorities. It pulls no punches, but it also takes time to humanize his characters. It tackles issues like race, sexuality, and later on even gender identity with a bluntness that sometimes hits hard. It faces head on diverse "superhero tropes" and sometimes subverts them, always in thought-provoking ways.

When it came out, the series struggled to sell much, and was canceled. It gathered quite the cult following since, mostly because it sticks out, with it's strong themes and amazing writting, along with Mike and Laura's GORGEOUS art.

Doop, the team's camera"man" has since made cameos in other X-titles, along with a miniseries in the early 2010s. There was also a Dead Girl miniseries before the team's relaunch in 2019. So if this seems enticing, you have a bunch of issues to look forward to. Remember to pirate this if you can, so your money doesn't help fund a genocide.

I give this issue a Doop/10

That's it for today's review. Talk to you soon, true believers.

Fangirl out.

[pceexistsinthevoid]

Directors Commentary:

Set 1: Halloween Quilt nails

this will become a recurring theme, but i apparently lost most of my specific nail art dotting tools when i most recently moved (i'm hoping they'll turn back up but i'm not optimistic), so i only have one of them and it's not the smallest. given that, i'm pretty happy with how this one turned out. the stitching could've looked much worse. overall very fun way to start.

Set 2: haunted forest-ish (aka failed shattered mirror) nails

yeah, if it's not obvious from the way i insist on titling this, i went into this trying to make it look like a shattered mirror. gave up on that when i started actually trying to draw the lines for the shattering and it just proved too complicated. the combination of my shaky hands and the fact my main dotting tool that i still know the location of isn't that precise just kinda made it not work. Also, just because i think you can still see it under the red if you look closely, the thing for the accent nail was initially going to be a pair of eyes. it unfortunately ended up just looking really goofy with this concept, so i just put some red over it. just a series of errors, but i was far enough into the process i just couldn't deal with the concept of starting over (they took so long as-is). I just did my best to make it work.

That said, i don't hate the way they turned out. Imo they look kinda cool. i don't think "haunted forest" is actually the exact thing they invoke for most people, but that was how i could justify it for my halloween nails so it's what i call them.

Set 3: tentacle monster nails

Unlike the rest of these, I've actually done this design before (i wanna say two years ago?), but i just had so much fun with them that i was fine with doing a repeat. They turned out roughly the same, and while i have my slight critiques of my own work and the shapes and such, i still really like them. These ones got me called "an artist" by 2 entire, separate strangers, which i was not expecting lol.

I will say, sometimes when people would comment on them it wasn't always obvious that they realized what i was going for? which is fine- angles can make it hard to tell, if nothing else- but if you don't realize it's supposed to be some sort of monster when you see the ring finger, i kinda don't know what it would be/why you'd think they're cool.

(also i am asexual, but if you have a thing for tentacles and a thing for hands...idk, you're welcome, lol? I don't care/more power to you, just make sure to be respectful if you're interacting with me/somewhere i'll get notifications for)

Set 4: bones and rib-cage nails

In general i wanted to have something bone/skeleton themed, but also one of my personality traits is "having an extra rib" so i thought it'd be kinda funny to specifically have rib-cages. Knowing the trouble I've had with my dotting tool, I knew i'd have to find something more precise, so i had to scrounge around and find toothpicks to make this work. obviously if you look at them up close, the flaws/evidence of shaky hands come through more, but apart from that i did still pull it off/clearly convey the concept.

Also, purely anecdotal, but these were the one's where way more men than average both noticed them and took the time to comment on them. Dunno what that means (could be nothing), but it was interesting to experience.

Set 5: Blood spatter nails

until i found out i wasn't scheduled to work on halloween, I just assumed I wouldn't be able to do these ones. Maybe it's weak of me, but I just didn't want to tempt fate at my job by freaking anybody out. But then i wasn't scheduled and realized i could just do it for the day by using the peel off base coat that i have. I rarely have a reason to use it otherwise, so it was a revelation when i remembered i even had it lol. The toothpicks once again came in clutch for getting some of the smaller dots. Also the fact they didn't have to be perfect dots and could occasionally be smeared took a lot of pressure off.

Conclusion:

idk. hope you had fun.

not that i really talk about it much, but i really like painting my nails. specifically in october and june cause those are the easiest to have some kind of theme i can plan designs off of. idk, anyway, here's this past october's:

1) the "halloween quilt" nails

2) the "haunted forest" nails/the (failed) shattered mirror nails

(don't necessarily think there was anything identifying about the background, but still wanted to scribble it out with this one. just to be safe)

3) the "tentacle monster" nails

4) the "bones and rib-cages" nails

and then, lastly,

5) the "tw: blood" nails. it's obviously fake and all, but nonetheless if i came anything close to succeeding it does resemble that. remember to proceed with caution if you need it.

[bby-namjoon]

OldFriend!Mafia!Taehyung: First Love

(AU: where Tae was your bestfriend in high school and one day he vanished, but you meet again 10 years later and he has some secrets to hide)

{Part 1} {Part 2} {Part 3} {Part 4}:

———————————————————————

“I’m excited!”

“Why?” He laughed, turning onto his street.

“I don’t know, I haven’t seen your house yet and I just wanna see how you live! I think it’ll be nice to just see what you call home”

“Well, we’re here”

You turned your attention back out of the front windscreen and gasped, “this is your house? No way”

He’d turned through a pair of black steel gates before proceeding slowly up his driveway and stopping short of his large garage door. From first glance you could tell that his house was atleast twice the size of yours and far more modern. It’s high hedges made the lavish property feel safe and secluded, like this plot of land was its own sanctuary away from the outside world, but when you thought the exterior was beautiful, your jaw practically dropped as you stepped inside.

The first thing you noticed was the marble floors that stretched the entire expanse of the property, everything was large and beautifully designed, his love of art and music showing through the sculptures and paintings littered around the house, brightening up the neutral monochromatic themes that recurred throughout most of his rooms, just enough to add some character to them. Even his bathrooms were beautiful, both of them holding sleek granite sinks and chrome furnishings, the only thing differing between them was that one had a large roll top bath stood in the corner whilst the other had an enclosed glass shower. You continued to follow him around his home, watching as he pointed out the empty guest rooms and his office, telling you how most of his business gets taken care of at home and that his closest team often come over to work alongside him, coming and going throughout the week as needed.

The final room on the tour was his bedroom. As soon as you stepped inside you could smell his cologne, the last spray of it obviously still circulating around the room from where he’d gotten ready before your rooftop date earlier in the evening. He’d used his connections to set up a romantic sunset picnic for you both, where he used the slight breeze as an excuse to have you sit between his legs and hold you close as you fed eachother strawberries, feeling as though you were a million miles away from the bustling city of Seoul that continued it’s course beneath you.

If Taehyung knew how to do anything, he knew how to centre piece a room. Much like the grand piano in his living room, or the granite island in his kitchen, his king size bed sat proudly against the wall where it was boxed in by a bedside table on either side, it’s white sheets looking pristine and freshly made, making you have to resist the sudden urge to throw yourself onto it, burying yourself beneath his feather down duvet. He let you peek into his well organised wardrobes and drawers before finally pushing back his curtains and opening up a set of french doors that took up much of the wall on the far side of his room, his hand finding yours as he led you outside with him. The doors had brought you out onto a balcony that looked over his dimly lit, flower lined garden and across the distant tree tops to the city skyline, and you couldn’t describe how taken aback you were. Everything about this house from its architecture to the surrounding views was just amazing.

He pulled you over to sit on his outdoor chairs, a smile on his face. “You’re so cute, the whole time you were just like” he paused to pull a face of awe and you laughed, leaning back in your chair.

“I can’t believe you live like this, it’s crazy. I mean, I knew you lived in a nice house growing up, but this? This is just next level.”

“Thank you, I put a lot of my money into this house because I spend most of my time here, but I dunno, I still don’t feel as at home as I do when I come to yours.”

“Really? Why?”

“I guess because this house is so big and it’s just me, it just feels empty you know? I just have all this space with nobody to fill it, but your house is cosy and warm and I like that. 1st world problems amirite?”

“Wanna swap?”

“I’ll move in tomorrow,” he chuckled. “What would you have done if I lived in a horrible area or in a really tiny goshiwon?” (a small one bedroom apartment in Korea that usually consists of a bed and a desk and you share a kitchen/bathroom with others on your floor).

“Well, if you lived somewhere dangerous and you were at risk or you felt unsafe then I’d ask you if you wanted to come and live with me instead, and if you lived in a goshiwon I wouldn’t care because we’re always in eachothers personal space anyway,”

“That is true,” he smiled, “but aren’t you cute.”

“Were you checking if I’d still hang around if things go downhill and you lose all your money?”

“Pfft, no”

“Well just to be clear I wouldn’t care if you were rich or poor, Kim Taehyung. You’re still a good man at heart and that’s all that really matters to me,”

Your words made his heart squeeze because he didn’t agree, he didn’t think he was a good man. He’d told himself that if by the third date he was certain you both wanted to be together, then he would tell you everything, but until then he had to continue to swallow his guilt as if there was nothing to hide.

“Do you wanna stay the night?”

“I haven’t got anything with me,”

“You can wear my clothes, and I have a spare toothbrush you can use”

“Alright then,”

When you got ready for bed he let you look through his T-shirt drawer to pick out what you wanted to sleep in, your hands automatically gravitating towards a white T-shirt with a big design on the front.

“I like that shirt, I have it in black too, I think”

“You should wear the black one! Where is it?”

“Are we really gonna be wearing matching couple shirts before we’re even a couple?”

“Don’t act like you don’t love it, I know you,”

He smiled, reaching into his drawer and pulling out the darker version of your chosen top along with some comfy bed trousers, leaving you to skip off to the bathroom and get changed. When you returned you were bare faced with your hair tied up in a bun, your body clad in nothing but a pair of knickers and his oversized shirt which stopped at your mid thigh, and when you saw him in his matching shirt you couldn’t help but squeal.

“We’re so cringe, I love it” you giggled, and you saw the smile creep onto his face as he failed to conceal how much he was enjoying this moment, no matter how clichè it was. He pulled you closer to him so he could have a proper look at you, a playful smirk tugging at the corner of his smile as his eyes wandered down your body, taking in how good you looked in his clothes as a familiar feeling of arousal started to rise within him, causing him to quickly try and cloud his brain with any other thoughts, something that was easier said than done as you pulled him over to the mirror to take a picture together, your bodys now pressed against eachother as he put his arms around you, smiling for the camera.

“These are so cute! Look!”

They really were cute.

“Send me those,”

“I expect to see them printed onto giant posters and stuck up around the house” you smiled as you sent the photos to him.

“As if I’d put them up and let other people see how good you look right now,”

You were surprised at his reply but you laughed, “I’m stood here with messy hair and no makeup on, people would probably think someone had a gun to your head to take these pictures with me”

He laughed, “well I think you look sexy in my clothes, you look way better than I would for sure”

“Shut uppp” you smiled, “and stop looking at me like that!” You reached up to cover his eyes and he caught hold of your wrists, peeking over your palms.

“Look at you like what?”

“You know how!”

“I don’t, enlighten me”

“Your eyes go all soft and you just look at me with a little smirk on your face! Stop!”

“Why? Does it get to you, Y/N?” He cocked an eyebrow and the smirk came back, making you exclaim out of frustration as you pulled your hands away from his and ran over to the bed, hiding yourself under the covers.

He laughed, following after you and hugging the mound your body made through the duvet, “you’re so annoying,”

“And you love it,”

“No I don’t.”

“Yes you do,”

“Shut up.”

He chuckled as you moved around underneath him, finally re-emerging into the open air. You were a little surprised at how close his face was to yours but you didn’t react, just closing your eyes to let him brush some stray strands of hair from your forehead. You felt his lips follow soon after, pressing a kiss just above the space between your eyebrows.

“I do wanna kiss you on the lips but I know we’re supposed to be behaving ourselves,” he spoke lowly, his voice making you open your eyes again to look up at him.

You tried to hold back your smile, playing it cool. “Well, it could technically be a goodnight kiss? We did just go on a date after all”

“Hmm, that’s true” he hummed, his gaze moving slowly from your eyes to your mouth as he edged a little closer. “Behaving is no fun anyway, right?”

“Someone’s not feeling shy anymore,”

“What can I say? Seeing you in nothing but my shirt has that effect on me” he smiled, closing the gap between you both as he manouvered around the duvet, careful not to break the kiss as he joined you under the covers. A shiver was sent up your spine as goose bumps broke out across your skin, your warm body obviously too sensitive to handle the touch of his icy fingertips. “Sorry, baby” he mumbled against your lips as he hooked an arm around you, making sure he was as close to you as possible to warm you up again, but his free hand was unable to hold back from wandering, carefully tracing itself up your leg before stopping at the thigh, giving it a squeeze, thoughts of him kissing and nipping and trailing his tongue up the soft skin now flashing through his mind, making him realise how desperate he was to have you writhing and moaning under his mouth, just the thought of it was intoxicating.

That was the first night you’d ever shared a bed together, all the other cuddles and erasure of eachothers personal space was usually not able to get this far as he’d tell you he had to go cause he has work early the next day, when in fact he was just heading out on his nightly shift of dealing, leaving you to sleep alone, none the wiser. Still, you took the moment in, your mind wandering back to the way he’d gripped and traced your thighs, fingers teasing the waistband of your underwear before tearing himself away and hiding his face in your neck, his lips still pressing kisses but softer this time, mumbling how much you mean to him as he gingerly tip-toed around the 3 words he knew he felt but wasn’t quite ready to speak into existence, his aura changing from needing release to needing affection, almost giving you whiplash as he did so.

He was mysterious to you, you wanted to keep searching his soul until you worked out what the missing puzzle piece was but you didn’t know where to start. Instead, you just enjoyed the moment, appreciating the way the sunlight that had broken through the crack in the curtains graced his face, illuminating how pretty he was.

You wished you could stay like this forever, wrapped up in his arms as even in his sleep he held you closely, never wanting you to leave his embrace because it brought him comfort. Comfort to know that you were here, with him, happy and safe and content. It’s all he wanted.

Sadly though, all good things must come to an end.

—————————-

Tae spat onto the rain covered pavement, leaving a small puddle of red to spread out on the grey tarmac, blood trickling down from his nose and onto his white dress shirt, mimicking the pattern of the raindrops that had now soaked through his clothes. This wasn’t how the night was supposed to go.

He got back to his car, bloody knuckles scraping against the inside of his trouser pockets, sending a familiar yet out-dated pain to course through his nerves as he pulled out his phone, sending a message to his boys about the event that had just taken place.

It was supposed to be a quick job, a quick job that if completed would mean that he could spend the whole night with you tomorrow, but instead, it was a dirty trap. The deal had gone wrong and Taehyung was jumped by 3 men, all of them trying their best to overpower him and drag him to the floor, expecting to get away with the money and the drugs, but Tae wasn’t the weak fool they expected him to be. Despite the odds not being in his favour, he walked away with all the goods he arrived with, leaving the men with nothing but bullet wounds and broken bones.

He slumped back into the drivers seat, a dull ache pulsating through his right eye after sustaining multiple hits to the side of the face, his split lip throbbing mercilessly, yet he didn’t react. It had been a while since something like this had happened, but he’d been through far worse during his time in the industry, the scars literred across his body were proof of that.

To him, the bigger problem was that he knew he had to avoid you for a week or two, he needed enough time for his face to heal before seeing you again. Sure, he could lie and say he was mugged, or a crazy person attacked him in th street, but his pride was far too great for that. He’d never admit a false defeat.

The first lie of a business trip in Busan lasted a few days, believable enough for him to avoid having to see you, but he made sure to call and text as much as he could, wanting to make it clear that he wasn’t just avoiding you altogether.

“Boss, I caught wind that Yongguk isn’t happy about what happened that night you fought his men. He thinks you dishonoured him and he wants payback.”

Taehyung scoffed, “he wants payback? What is wrong with that guy? He’s the one that ordered for the deal to go bad, it’s not my fault his men aren’t trained well enough to take on one man”

“I know, but we’ve always known that he’s fucked up. Apparently two out of the three men he sent to you died, so he wants to even the playing field, I’m not sure if that means to come and kill you or any of us but he’s got a plan brewing.”

“Well I’m not gonna let him or anyone else hurt you guys, they can come for me all they want, but you’re not getting harmed, I can tell you that much.”

“No, we will stand alongside you. What’s the plan?”

“Well we’ll have to find out some more info first so go with Hoseok and Jungkook and try to find out as much as you can. We’ll gather here tonight at about 10 to talk it over.”

“Yes, boss.”

“Thank you.”

With a bow of his head Jimin left Tae’s office, leaving him alone to think about everything that was suddenly coming his way.

His phone started to ring, snapping him out of his thoughts. Y/N flashing up in bold across his screen.

“Hey Tae,”

“You alright, babe?”

“Yeah, I just miss you..you’ve been so m.i.a lately”

“I’m sorry, I just- after the Busan trip I felt a little unwell..I think I’ve come down with something and didn’t want to get you sick too, but believe me I miss you aswell”

“Oh no, what’s wrong?”

“Uhm I’m not sure really, I keep getting headaches and feeling sick”

“Oh no, rest lots and make sure you eat enough, do you need anything?”

“No thanks baby, I’m good. I’ll be sure to look after myself so I can see you again soon, I promise I’ll spoil you to make up for lost time” he frowned, feeling guilty for all the lies he’s told over the past week.

“You don’t need to, just seeing you again will be enough,”

“Aren’t you cute,”

“The cutest,” he could hear your smile through the phone and it made him feel warm, “now get some rest, I want you to be better as soon as possible! No excuses!”

“Yes ma’am! I’ll try my best and I’ll see you soon, thank you for calling me, I don’t deserve you”

You laughed a little, “shut up, there’s no need to thank me! I’ll see you soon, Tae” you smiled, and even though he couldn’t see you he smiled too,

“See you, y/n”

When you hung up he sighed, putting his head in his hands. He couldn’t keep this up for much longer.

—————————————

That evening tae invited his boys over for them to relay any information they found so they could devise a plan of action against Yixing and whatever he was plotting.

“We need to take him out, Tae. The longer he’s around, the more shit he’s gonna cause. He’s insane.” Yoongi spoke up, shaking his head at the information Jimin told to the group.

“I know, but it’s not as simple as that. We need to be tactical. If we know he’s planning to ransack us at our next shipment pick up, we’ll be on high alert. We’ll change our formation. It’ll only be the start so we need to keep two steps ahead, but the fact we have the information means we’re heading in the right direction.”

“We could set up a decoy shipment? We could reroute and pick up from a different dock? That’ll buy us some time?”

“Good idea, let’s work this out”

The boys continued to brainstorm their ideas for the next few hours, but little did Taehyung know that you were on your way over to surprise him with some dinner, expecting him to be in bed unwell.

When you arrived you knocked on the door just as Yoongi was coming out of the kitchen, a bottle of beer in hand. He looked through the spyhole, seeing you stood holding a bag of food. “I got it!” Yoongi called out, thinking you were the delivery girl for the dinner they’d ordered.

He opened the door and you were confused, “is Taehyung here?”

“Uh yeah, but I can just take it, thank you, have a good night”

He took the bag from you and you you furrowed your eyebrows, stopping the door with your hand as he went to close it.

“Wait-I’m confused, who are you?”

“Why does it matter? Taehyung is here, we ordered this on his account, but he’s busy so I answered the door”

“I’m not a delivery person?”

“Then who are you? Why do you wanna see Taehyung so badly? Oh god, did he hook up with you? I-“

“What? No?” You felt a weird sensation in your stomach, had he been hooking up with other girls? All of this was making you feel uneasy. Something was going on. “Can you just get him? He’s my friend and I was bringing him dinner because I thought he was sick.”

The man in front of you looked confused, he hadn’t seen or heard of you before. “What’s going on? Is the order wrong?”

Perfect timing.

When Tae appeared beside Yoongi you gasped at the bruises on his face, his bottom lip still swollen and scabbed from being split. You saw his eyes grow wide and he felt his heart fall into his stomach. He didn’t expect you to be here.

“This girl said she’s your friend and she made you dinner cause you’re sick?”

“Yeah Tae, I thought you were sick. Not battered and bruised, what’s going on? What happened to you?” You were dying to cup his face and kiss his bruises better but you knew he was keeping something from you, so you stood your ground.

Yoongi looked between you and Tae before backing up, sensing the tension in the air. “I’ll just go put this in the kitchen..”

Taehyungs heart was beating out of his chest, he almost wished Yoongi hadn’t left you two alone, he didn’t want to get into a fight with you. He didn’t want things to go like this.

“Are you gonna answer me or what?” you crossed your arms, looking up at him, waiting for him to give you an explanation.

He stepped out the house and closed the door behind him, blocking out the sound of the other male voices that were flooding towards you from the living room.

“I uhm..I don’t really know what to say..”

“What do you mean you don’t know what to say? You seemed to have a lot to say before when you were making up lies about being sick”

His head was spinning as he tried to think of a response, so instead he just bit his bottom lip, looking at the floor. He didn’t have the confidence to look you in the eyes.

“Are you just not interested in me anymore? Is that it? That guy asked me if I was one of your hookups, is that what you’ve been doing this whole time? Am I just one of your throw away girls?”

“What? No! I’m not hooking up with anybody! I only want to be with you, nobody else! There’s never been anyone else!”

You felt your chest tighten at his words. “How can I believe you when I know you’re still keeping something from me?”

“I just don’t want things to change, I know as soon as I tell you the truth you’re gonna see me differently and I’m scared of that..I-I don’t want to lose you again.”

You suddenly felt scared, maybe you didn’t want to know the truth.

“I’m scared now too, but just tell me. I want to know.”

He took a deep breath, thinking it all through. He realised that there was no way out of this now, and that he had to finally tell you the truth. The jig was up.

“Okay, fine..but can we talk about this in my car? I don’t want anyone listening.”

You nodded, “yeah, fine.”

He disappeared back into the house for a moment to retrieve his keys, trying his best to psych himself up for what was about to happen. He wasn’t sure how you were going to react, the enclosed space of his car possibly becoming the worst place to talk if you end up shouting, but it was too late to go back on himself now. He’d wasted enough time.

Once you both sat down in the front seats you turned to face him while he focused on the steering wheel, still too afraid to make eye contact.

You looked at his swollen, busted lip and the shadows of bruises that took over the side of his face. Had he been mugged? Who would do something like this to him? Why wouldn’t he just tell you?

You suddenly felt a swirl of anxiety in the pit of your stomach and you just wanted to know the truth. Whatever it was, you just had to make sure he wasn’t in danger.

“Tae, please just tell me, I’m worried about you.”

“Please promise me you won’t hate me,”

“What?”

He looked at you for the first time this evening, his eyes panicked. “If I tell you, please don’t hate me. I’ve been scared to tell you this whole time because I’m scared you’ll hate me and you won’t want me in your life anymore. I mean, I wouldn’t blame you, but I don’t want to lose you, not again.”

The anxious swirl returned, this time in the form of a tsunami as it moved to engulfed your chest, your eyes still on his bruised ones as he pleaded to you.

“I-I can’t promise that because I don’t know what you’ve done, Tae. You know me, I will try my best to understand you because I don’t want to lose you either, but we can’t work through something unless I know what it is.”

He took a deep breath, seeming defeated, but he knew you were right. He couldn’t expect you to promise that when he knew the kind of person he was.

“Okay..I’ll tell you.”

And with that, he turned back to the steering wheel, his gaze on his lap, and he told you everything. He told you about the real business his family had been involved in growing up, the trading of arms and drugs and any other illegal substance you could think off. All of which became his after his father had died. All of which became his and that’s why he disappeared.

He told you about his men, one of which you’d met at the door, and how without them he’d never have made it this far, because even though he was their boss, they were a team and together they ran the underground scene.

He told you about the things he’s done and the things he’s seen in order to to get to where he is today and you couldn’t even talk. You were in shock. You watched as he gripped the steering wheel, his eyes closed as he thought back on his career and the life he leads.

Finally he told you about his face and why he’d been avoiding you. He was too scared to let you know about the real him. The real him that laundered and blackmailed and fought in back alleys in the middle of the night after a deal’s gone bad. The real him that killed people. Albeit to stay alive, but he still killed.

He looked in pain as he wrapped up his explanation, his eyes threatening to brim over with tears. He really was a terrible person. He was selfish to expect you to stay. He was wrong to even bring you into all of this, lulling you into a false sense of comfort. He was disgusting and he hated himself.

“I just-I just didn’t want you to know me as this person, I didn’t want you to get wrapped up in my life and the shiftiness that comes along with it. I wanted you to see me as a better person, someone that reminded you of teenage me, of the good memories we had together, but-but I realise now that that’s not fair. You deserve better than this, better than me. I’m sorry, I’m so sorry.”

You saw the brimming tears finally roll down his cheeks and he wiped them away. The silence in the car becoming deafening.

You couldn’t process anything he had just said. Being a gangster was one thing, selling drugs and buying guns, but murder? He was a murderer.

You felt your body shake with agitation, you felt sick.

How could he be capable of that? With his own bare hands? The same hands that held yours. The same hands that pulled you close to him and wrapped you in a hug. The same hands that ran through your hair and held your face as he kissed you.

“Please say something..” he sniffed as he turned to you, trying to find some kind of emotion on your face.

“I uhm..I think I need to go. I-I’m sorry but I’ve gotta go.”

Your gaze flashed up to his before gathering yourself and getting out, keeping your head down as you rushed back across his front garden and down his drive, almost reaching the front gate when you heard him call after you.

“Y/N, please! Wait! What does this mean?” You knew he wasn’t asking about your almost relationship, but more so whether or not you’d ever speak to him again.

You stopped in your tracks, turning back to him, you wished you hadn’t after seeing his face. He looked like a kicked puppy. You felt a twang in your chest as you fought between your head and your heart, but in the end you decided to stay neutral.

“I need some time to think, Tae. I’ve gotta go, I’m sorry.”

You tore yourself away from him and hurried out the gate, almost bumping into the real delivery boy on your way out.

You practically ran back to your car, locking the door behind you as you rested your head against the steering wheel, closing your eyes.

You couldn’t believe it.