#there's nothing more satisfying as an artist to be able to create something from scratch completely in your element in being able to expres

[seungyan]

I can't think about seungyoun for too long at a time or I start to go insane.... like he was literally a football prodigy and was well on his way to a promising career as a pro player and even went to Brazil for it, but in the end he decided that, nah that wasn't for him and he liked music better so he came home and went to hanlim and eventually debuted as a rapper in uniq and when that fell apart and he just kept working and honing his craft and now he's one of the biggest solo acts and he's ab incredible singer and dancer and producer and song writer and he does so much himself and that's one of the reasons why he has such a distinct sound even though he's explored many different genres in his solo career.

I think he's perseverance and hard work is so admirable and even though he's gone through a lot of hardship in his career so far he's still so bright and he always brings such a fun atmosphere. It's wild to think that he's done all this and yet he hasn't even turned 26 yet.

[lavenderobject58]

#1: I Say A Little Prayer by Minami Q-ta

Minami Q-ta is one of my favorite manga artists. I love the way they write relationships: they're never the easy, innocent affairs you find in a lot of yuri (not to knock those kinds of stories, mind you - they just don't scratch the same itch). Instead, they're messy and uncomfortable, often driving their participants towards self-destruction. Pair that with an expressive (described by my friend Wren as "wobbly") art style and an impressively consistent ability to stick the landing, and one starts to wonder why Minami Q-ta has gotten so little attention, at least on the English-speaking internet. I Say A Little Prayer, a oneshot published in 1996, perfectly encapsulates all my favorite elements of Minami Q-ta's work. To summarize as briefly as I can: Kiyoko, 25, is head-over-heels in love with Ayumi, 23. The two, who have been seeing each other for some time now, are enjoying a picnic by the river before a storm forces them to return to Ayumi's apartment. While they are showering together, Ayumi tells Kiyoko that she wants her to meet her boyfriend, and hopes that they can be friends forever. Kiyoko does not take this well, and runs off into the rain. After briefly breaking down in tears on the street, Kiyoko returns to Ayumi's apartment and declares:

(not sure who Midori-chan is, by the way. Minami Q-ta's Goodbye Midori - another one of my favorites, but not yuri enough for me to talk about here - was published the same year, so it could have to do with that?) We've all been in, or been around, enough similar situations to be able to recognize that this is not a relationship that's going to last, of course. Even so, this feels like a happy ending, at least for Kiyoko. I relate to her a lot, as someone who's also gotten caught up in the excitement of a new relationship before calling it quits the moment things start getting uncomfortable (more times than I'd like to admit). We see her at the beginning of the story reeling from another such experience before she meets Ayumi, and it's implied that this is a not uncommon occurrence for her. What's more, the calm and usually passive Ayumi is a perfect receptacle for Kiyoko's pushiness, which allows the latter to really believe that, since Ayumi isn't outright rejecting her, the two must be in love. This makes the rejection of finding out that Ayumi was just sort of going along with it sting even worse.

So for her to get right back up again is a sign of newfound resilience. It's an ending that feels very real: nothing tangible has changed, and Kiyoko's situation is still just as fraught as it was a few pages before, but growth has been achieved. It's a testament to Minami Q-ta's ability to create a satisfying and emotionally resonant story arc in such a short form while still maintaining a sense of realness and complexity. Something that I particularly love about the writing in this manga is the dialogue. That's attributable to both the original author, of course, as well as the translators (from the prolific scanlator group Lililicious), who did an excellent job at subtly introducing a sense of ambiguity into Ayumi's relationship with Kiyoko - for example, when she tells Kiyoko, "You're so cool, you make my heart race", she might be paying her close friend a compliment, or flirting with her lover, or - my personal favorite option - perhaps even hinting at her own uncertainty regarding her feelings towards their relationship. After all, we never see the same level of interiority with Ayumi as with Kiyoko, so whether or not she really does just want to be "friends forever" is up to the reader to decide.

As you can probably tell from the images I've posted so far, there are a lot of really striking panels in this manga - the way the art shifts from awkward cuteness to these sudden moments of really intense beauty and emotion is a big part of what draws me in about Minami Q-ta's work.

There are other things about this manga I'd love to talk about - I think the way that Ayumi's feelings are hinted at is super interesting, for example, and I love the use of background characters as symbols of the social reality within which Ayumi and Kiyoko exist. But for now, I'll leave you all with a link for where you can check this out and a request that you check out Minami Q-ta's other work if you like this one. They're still active today, by the way, although I haven't been able to find any translations of their newer work. Thanks for reading, everyone :)

[ka-za-ri]

Descent Pt. 5

And we’re back again with some more Simeon! I still hate every word I write! The past few chapters have been a challenge to slough through, but I hope you still take this humble offering enjoy it.

Chapter Index and Obey Me! Masterlist: here Ao3 Mirror: Here Part [1] Part [2] Part [3] Part 4: [4] Part [5] Part [6] Part [7] Part [8] Part [9] Part [10] Pairing: Simeon x Reader   Genre: Smut   Wordcount: 4,300 ish   Tags: Sex toys, smut, femdom, anal toys, oral, pet play, anal Summary:  Simeon presents you a plot twist to his novel that leaves you gobsmacked and surprised, to say the least.

Slide

It became a regular occurrence for you to be working ‘overtime’ during the weekends with Simeon. It wasn’t something you minded. He always seemed to have something he wanted to try and it didn’t seem like he was falling behind in making any deadlines, so you didn’t have any concerns with indulging him in whatever he wanted to do.

On more than one occasion, he let you be in control. There was always a thrill that ran through you when he allowed you to dictate just how the scene would go. Simeon was eager to please and you were more than satisfied with what his tongue and his fingers could do to you. If you wanted anything more than that, he was always happy to please you with one of the many tools at his disposal.

The weeks melded into one another and work was always on your mind. It became a bit problematic considering your other clients also needed your attention. Luckily, with Simeon being so high profile, you were able to transfer the workload to a few new recruits the company had just hired. Though the transition wasn’t exactly something you wanted to do, you were rather attached to all your clients, Simeon’s work took priority above anything else.

The epic spy story he concocted had quickly become quite the project for you to edit. He somehow wove a rather involved story outside of the intense sex scenes. It meant you had to go through his words with a fine toothed comb to ensure there weren’t any inconsistencies. It meant you had to remain impartial and critical of the sex scenes he wrote. Seeing the lewd acts you had done written on paper had a different effect on you than you expected. It made your face burn knowing that your escapades with your client would be immortalized on paper. There was also an excitement about it, being the only people who knew of the source of such lascivious words.

Despite all the sexy rendezvous the two of you had on the regular, Simeon never failed to be the prim and proper author during the regular work week. He went to meetings with the publishing house with you as needed and made appearances for interviews to maintain his relevancy. Not once did he ever put his reputation or his relationship with you at risk while the public eye was on him. It was such an odd dichotomy between his professional self and the version of him that appeared whenever he was alone with you, you sometimes wondered if he was actually two different people.

What you didn’t know was how difficult it was for Simeon to keep everything in check. The more time he spent with you, the more his desires grew and became a dark void within him, swallowing the light he had spent centuries cultivating. He wanted so much more than what he was allowed. He had an internal mantra going at all times, reminding him that what he did was for work, he could never defile you. He respected you too much to drag you down to the dark with him. He was better than that. He was an angel. Your angel.

You always looked forward to the weekends. Simeon always took such good care of you whenever you stayed over. It was a chance for the both of you to unwind, even if it was for ‘work’ purposes. He eventually lost most of his initial shyness and became more vocal about what he wanted. The direction worked well in his favor, helping him write the most detailed sex scenes you had ever read in your entire life. His years of literary experience truly made up for his lack of sexual knowlege whenever he submitted something for you to go over. It was hard to critique the quality of the scene, but you could always find a few missing commas or half finished sentences here and there for him to fix up.

He found pleasure on nearly every surface of his home, save for his bedroom. Something about that room seemed too sacred to breech for him. Not that you really minded, there was more space on the floor and it was easier to bend him over the arm of a couch to help him into his favorite plug. He had taken quite a liking to it, often telling you after a long meeting or interview that he had sat through it with it in him. “It’s good research.” He explained, but you didn’t know how much of that really was for his book and how much of it was for his own pleasure.

So, when he greeted you one weekend, you nearly fainted when you saw him sporting a skin tight sheer body suit, bunny ears and a tail to match.

“What the hell are you thinking?!” You couldn’t make eye contact with him, not when he was dressed like that. “What part of your book has anything to do with … any of this?”

He blinked innocently and smiled, guiding you over to his couch so you could sit down and compose yourself. You heard the front door click closed and the sound of him locking it seemed to be so much louder than usual. It was too bold of him to approach you like this, he had said nothing about a scenario like this, and you were sure there was nothing in his book that would hint at any of the characters dressing in such a manner.

You couldn’t deny he looked absolutely spectacular in that get up, though.

It was surreal watching him saunter back to the living room and casually take a seat across from you, crossing his legs and looking as if he wasn’t dressed up like the definition of insanely provocative. “So, I’m sure you have some questions.”

“I… I can’t figure out where to start asking you,” you admitted, unable to tear your eyes away from how well the body suit hugged his taut muscles and left nothing to the imagination. The fact that the material was completely sheer and you could see how erect his nipples were in the right light didn’t help his case any. The addition of the damn tail and ears made you wonder if he had suddenly changed genres to set his novel in a fantasy setting.

“Well...” he started, placing his hands on his knees and smiling softly. “I needed something to really get readers invested in how evil the villain is. So, I thought, what’s more evil than human experimentation? The villain would start mixing humans with animals and creating sex craved hybrids.” The smile was still plastered onto his face, his eyes crinkled in glee as he explained his plot twist to you. You could barely believe your ears. Not only had he come up with something else you had never seen coming, he willingly put himself in that outfit to get the scenes right.

I can’t tell if he’s a genius or if he’s insane…

Simeon was the latter. Insane with a desire that he couldn’t comprehend. He desired more than what he was given and he kept chasing that high he first felt when he saw you riding his pillow in that sunroom so many weeks ago. Each new experience with you brought out something darker in him. Every time he thought he could stop himself, he found a new excuse to try yet another thing he read about online. He was yours in a way he couldn’t express, until he stumbled upon the idea of becoming your pet.

It was a perfect cover up for fitting the fluffy tail plug into him and donning on the raunchy outfit. He didn’t want to admit how obscene it was on him, but seeing your shocked expression when he greeted you was well worth the discomfort. He belonged to you and you to him in a way that transcended your work contracts. He had no words to describe the feeling of elation, of freedom he got every time he came at your command. What started off as a way to get words on paper soon became an unhinged addition to your touch, your praise and your approval.

He timidly walked over to you on the couch, kneeling in front of you and laid his head on your lap. Simeon looked up at you with wide eyes and the slightest hint of a pout. There was no way you could deny him. Even if you had suspicions about his intentions of becoming an ‘animal’ for the day, his adorable expression whisked your concerns into the ether and you patted his hair gently, earning a hum of happiness from him.

It seemed as though the lamb had found a pet rabbit.

It was easy to dote on Simeon in this manner. If it weren’t for the ears and the tail, you could have pretended it was a quaint afternoon, pampering your loved one. The innate sexual tension that arose from his outfit and his explanation of why he was even dressed like that was nearly suffocating. You could imagine all the innocent things in the world, there was no denying that Simeon was going to push his boundaries in the end for the sake of his novel.

It was bliss to lay his head in your lap, feel your fingers run through his hair and caress his scalp. Simeon crooned in content. He wasn’t sure what sorts of noises rabbits made, so he took a few artistic liberties on that end. He’d figure out the specifics when he got to writing. What mattered at the moment was the feeling of your nails slowly dragging themselves through his scalp, sending shivers down his spine. He didn’t think he’d enjoy being so submissive when he was around you, but you brought a calm in him and it was so relieving to relinquish control of everything.

He sighed softly, feeling himself slip into a light doze from your gentle touches. Every now and then, you would scratch the back of his neck and his whole world would light up when you did. With every passing day he became more attached to you and everything you could give him. He sighed in content, feeling his muscles relax and put more of his weight in your lap.

He didn’t know when he feel asleep, but it was the most peaceful rest he had in a long time. Your warmth and company sent him into a deep and dreamless sleep. All the stress of writing something he was unfamiliar with and the constant vigilance of staving off his own fall had worn him down quite a bit without him realizing it. In your presence though, he was safe to be himself. Simeon. Not an angel, not a renowned author, just Simeon. That safety was oddly the most liberating feeling.

“Did you sleep well, my angel?” you asked when he saw him stir a bit.

“How lon--” You pressed your finger against his lips, hushing him.

“Last time I checked, cute little bunnies don’t speak.” You chided and he snapped awake, remembering where he was, what he was wearing and who he was with.

Simeon straightened up, sitting back and squatting to mimic a bunny’s stance. His arms between his legs extended just slightly to keep his balance. With the change in position, he could feel the plug in his ass shift along with his movements and press further into him. Just that little change was enough to stir his hormones awake as well. He knew before long he’d be aching and wanting some sort of release. The question today was: how would you let him reach it?

It had been a peaceful hour or so while Simeon napped in your lap. It gave you plenty of time to think through what you wanted to do with him. Though he had approached you innocently, you knew that in the end he was supposed to represent a ‘sex crazed’ human-animal hybrid. You felt a twinge of guilt, he had been sleeping so soundly, it was almost a shame that you were about to rile him up into a whimpering mess.

He watched you with wide, apologetic eyes. His lips were turned up in a pout and whatever ‘anger’ you had for his little slip melted away at the sheer adorableness. You leaned over and gave his head a pat, readjusting the ears that had become crooked while he slept. “It’s okay. I’m sure you’ll learn to be a good boy quickly. Isn’t that right?”

He nodded enthusiastically, the pout turning into an enthusiastic smile and he leaned into your touch, cooing softly. You weren’t sure what noises rabbits made, but it seemed appropriate for the scenario. You’d roll with it for the time being.

“Has my precious bunny been taking care of himself?” you asked softly, scratching under his chin and you were rewarded with a heavenly smile filled with mirth and happiness. He let out another coo of content, nodding again at your question. “Good to hear. But I’ll have to check that for myself.”

You lead him to the couch, bending him over the arm and spreading his legs. It was a position you could never get enough of. His ass in the air and his cock hanging between his legs was such a tantalizing image you took every chance you could get to have him like this. You carefully walked around him, dragging your finger across his body as if you were ‘examining’ him. “Mm, my bunny keeps in such good shape. I’m so proud of him.” You praised, giving his ass a firm squeeze.

Simeon gasped, letting out a soft moan which turned into a sigh. He had lost his character for a brief moment when you had complimented him. His heart sang and his ears rang as he played your words over and over again. Your hand suddenly at his rear squeezing it and playing with it sent his barely restrained hormones straight to his dick. You had the delightful privilege of watching his cock twitch and grow, straining against the flimsy see through fabric of the body suit.

The fluffy tail served to be a great little thing to ‘examine.’ You were responsible for the well being of your pet, so it was only natural you were thorough in making sure he was in good health. You took joy in tugging on the plug, making sure it was snugly fit into him. He had grown so fond of being filled recently, you wondered if the tail had been just an excuse for him to get some new toys for himself. With how easy it was to get him hard whenever there was ass play involved, you couldn’t say you would have been surprised if that was the case.

You left his tail alone after a bit, letting his mind rest before you went to ‘examining’ the rest of him. Your hands caressed his inner thighs, your lips following their trail as you kissed them up and down. It was easy to pretend the fabric of the body suit wasn’t even there with how thin it was. You hummed, content to be where you were between his legs and nuzzled his hardened length. You could hear his strangled moan above you as you teased his cock.

“Oh? what’s this?” You asked innocently stroking his shaft and watched in glee as his thighs quivered around you. “Does my bunny need to breed?”  You heard a whimper above you, his hips moving along with the motion of your hand. You didn’t need any words to know what he wanted from you, but it was fun to tease him while he was like this.

You moved him to lay on his back on the couch. You kept his legs spread and his knees drawn up so you had a clear view of both his tail and his cock. Almost instinctively, he had his arms wrapped around the back of his knees to keep his legs in position. You smiled, giving him deep kiss as a reward for doing what you wanted without having to ask. When you pulled away, the debauched look on his face was so sinful, you nearly forgot about your promise to him and had to restrain yourself from sitting on his dick properly.

He was breathless, blushing madly and mewling while you continued to inspect every inch of his body. While it was a shame to ruin such a well made body suit, you couldn’t stop yourself from tearing at it to feel his skin properly. The shredded fabric only made the debased scene all the more sexy to you. Simeon was freely moaning as you nestled yourself between his legs and covered his chest with kisses.

Your fingers toyed with his sensitive nipples and he was keening under your touches. His legs and arms shook in the effort to remain in the position you wanted him to be in. You could see desperate tears forming in the corner of his eyes and you leaned up to kiss them away. He was so close to breaking, you just wanted to see him pushed a little further in this role before you let him have his way with you.

“Don’t cum in my mouth now, okay?” you demanded before you sank between his legs and gave his aching cock a long, slow lick.

The sound that came from him was almost inhuman, to be fair, Simeon had been put under a good bit of distress with how much he had been teased. The build up he had psyched himself up with only added to how great everything felt.

The sound of the body suit being torn away from him echoed in the room as you ripped the fabric away until you had unhindered access to his dripping cock. You made sure to keep your eyes on him while you took him your mouth. He was torn between screwing his eyes shut to hold off his orgasm or keep watching you work him with your mouth. He had never needed to make such a difficult decision before. Eventually he settled on watching you in short bursts before he needed to focus on holding back his load.

He was so beautiful in those moments, writhing and doing his best to follow your commands. There was a distinct feeling of pride that welled in you as you watched him do whatever it took to be a good boy. He truly deserved only the best reward.

So, you redoubled your efforts to give him the best head he had ever experienced. Taking him until he hit the back of your throat, you moaned, relaxing your reflexes until he was fully seated in your mouth.  You took slow breaths through your nose, moaning into his cock and sending him into a full body shudder as you sucked hard. “P-please… please...” he cried from above you, his thighs quivering violently as he held back his climax. “Please.”

You couldn’t fault him for breaking his character. Figuring he had enough torture, you left his cock with a lewd pop, drool and a bit of his precum leaked down the side of your mouth and you made sure he got a good view of you lapping up what you could before wiping it away. “Alright, I think it’s time to properly let my precious bunny breed like he’s meant to, right?”

You kissed him tenderly before pulling away from him just long enough to kick your skirt up and pull down your panties. Your pussy was a wet mess, but you knew he wouldn’t go there. Instead, you got on your knees, bending over and spreading your ass to get a good view of your ass. “Come on, come and get your reward.”

Simeon couldn’t react fast enough. His whole body was moving on instinct as he reached for the nearest bottle of lube to douse all over your spread rear. You shivered a bit as the cold liquid was spread on you. The initial feeling was uncomfortable, but it would still be better than taking his whole cock without any at all. The wet sounds of him covering his cock in the same lube were so filthy, it even had you blushing.

The sounds died off soon enough as the tip of his cock pressed into your ass and you gasped, struggling to adjust to his size with so little preparation. It wasn’t the first time he had taken you in this way in the past weeks, but it was the first time he didn’t bother stretching you out first. He stopped, breaking his character to make sure you were alright before proceeding. Once your breathing evened out and you pushed back into him, he continued to slide every inch of himself into your tight hole.

It was always a mind blowing experience to accept his whole length into you. Even if it would have been better if his cock was in your pussy; you didn’t mind the compromise you had made with him at all. The feeling of being filled with his cock was one you wouldn’t pass up for any reason. The first pass was always the most amazing, especially with how he groaned once he was fully seated in you.

As soon as he was sure you were ready for him, he got to ‘breeding’ you as the sex craved animal he had become. Your hands moved from holding your ass cheeks apart to bracing your body against the ground to keep you steady while he rammed his cock into you over and over. There was nothing left but the carnal desire between the two of you. He growled, leaning over you, getting as much contact as he could while he thrust into you.

You felt his teeth graze your shoulders and your neck, nipping and leaving marks all across your skin as he claimed you. His hands at your hips dug deep into the flesh, leaving large welts where his nails were. He had tossed away the docile bunny act to claim the prize he had worked so hard to obtain. Simeon grunted, feeling himself get close to his climax. After the amazing blowjob you gave him, he knew he wouldn’t last long inside of you.

He grabbed you by your hair, pulling your body up and flush to his own, never losing the brutal pace he had set. You winced at the sudden pain, but a hand snaking around your waist to rub your clit had you forgetting all about it. Simeon was a fast learner. He knew just how to play your body to bring you to a climax in time with his own. At this point, you were not much more than one of his sex toys he owned with how he was using you.

His fingers at your cunt were soon covered in your essence as he rubbed your clit in quick, yet firm circles. His teeth sank into your shoulder as his pace inside of you became erratic and he was rapidly losing what control he had over his body. “Cum… Cumming...” He growled, warning you right before his seed was emptied into you.

“Mine...” you heard him snarl protectively the moment he came.

His hips stilled for a bit as the brunt of his orgasm overcame him. His fingers never stopped working at your pussy, wanting to feel your whole body constrict around his cock. It didn’t take too much more effort on his end. The warmth of his seed filling you was all you needed to go over the edge with him. Your ass clenched around his cock while your pussy was woefully empty. You moaned his name as you came, shaking in his arms as you rode out the high with him.

Simeon stayed still for a bit longer, waiting until both your sensitive bodies felt ready to disconnect from each other. He was careful as he pulled out of your ass. Seeing his seed leak from the tight hole once he fully pulled away was always so satisfying and he wished he had his phone with him to take a picture of just how beautiful you were in the afterglow of such an intense session.

You all but collapsed onto the floor once you were allowed to, your muscles feeling like jelly after he had so mercilessly taken you. You needed a few moments to recollect yourself before retrieving some towels to help clean up the worst of the fluids that covered the two of you. Pulling the tail plug out of him rewarded you with a rather indecent moan from his lips. His whole body convulsed briefly as the thickest part passed his anus and his body sagged in relief once the whole toy was removed.

As soon as he was able to, he crumpled into your arms, demanding cuddles and affection again. “Did I do good?” he asked, looking up at you expectantly.

You laughed good naturedly, taking the ears off his head and tossing them to the side. “I’ve never had a pet like you, for sure.”

“But was I good?”

You smiled, running your fingers through his sweat dampened hair, watching him melt into your embrace while the two of you had a naked cuddle session on his couch. “You were better than good. You were absolutely perfect.” You reassured.

He sighed, resting his head on your bosom and snuggling closer to you. He wrapped his arms around you and clung to you. “Mine...” He declared softly. The sudden statement made your heart skip a beat. You had initially thought he had uttered it while fucking you in the spur of the moment. Hearing him repeat it while he was comfortably wrapped around you held a different weight.

“Mine.” he repeated as he drifted off to sleep in your arms. “All mine.”

As long as you belonged to him, it didn’t seem to matter if he fell all the way to the pits of hell or not. He belonged to you. You belonged to him. All was right in the world.

And once again, the darkness in him grew.

[blacksunscorpio]

Hii darling, how are you doing?🌹I would like your opinion on my 2nd house stellium, I have my moon, mars, venus, neptune, uranus and jupiter my chart ruler in 2nd. I would like your insight and advices on how to deal with it. Furthermore I have sun, pluto and mercury in 1st would you consider it a stellium? Thank you so much for your time, help and effort, I really appreciate it and pls take care of yourself and have a pleasant day and wonderful March full of blessings 💕

2nd House Stelliums

Like 1st house stelliums, 2nd house stelliums are simply a concentration of 3 or more planets/their energy in the house that rules our finances.

The 2nd house is ruled by Taurus/Venus so it is a house very much associated with security, our belongings, and stability.  Here, this energy is all about seeking comfort, creative investment, the need for financial security and powerful use of the voice [Taurus rules the throat]. In addition to that, This house is a deeply personal house. The house that represents the value we give to ourselves and everything we do. In it, we are able to materialize our energy into something we can touch, use, or hold in our hands, as if it was a natural consequence of the energy we carry in our body represented through our first house. Again, this house is ruled by Venus so the themes here are all about the tangible. All about the senses. The second house of our chart is the field of habit, the food we eat, with the purpose to feed our hunger created by the animal we carry in the first house. It is a source of income that nourishes and strengthens our body. Its motto in Latin is lucrum meaning “wealth”. Since most of your planets live here, all of the above will be major theme pervading your life.With that being said, You have

Moon is the 2nd

Moon in the 2nd house worry about money and keeping the security it provides. If money is plentiful, the chart holder might be complacent until the money dwindles, then this will cause a cycle of discomfort and worry. Financial security is necessary for a person with their moon in their second house. This person will be greatly distressed without it. It is truly their greatest need. This placement also indicates the native is emotionally tied to their finances and that they derive their security through their financial well-being.

Venus in the 2nd

Venus finds a perfect home in the second house. No planet appreciates the material world more than Venus, which has immaculate taste and appreciation of the finer things in life. The person with this placement loves to shop/buy things they think are beautiful and then spend the next day telling everyone how wonderful their purchase is. Men with this placement love to pamper their partners. Women with this placement will love to indulge on things that make them look or feel beautiful [clothes, make-up, jewelry, spa treatments]. In general, having Venus in the second house is one of the most positive placements there is. It indicates financial well-being and may bring great wealth. Extravagant spending is indicated as well. [look for supporting aspects]

Mars in the 2nd

2nd house Martians are decisive, outspoken about their values [2nd house]. They know what they want and go after it forcefully. Mars in the second house also values assertiveness and determination. These people are not shy at all regarding asking for what they want. People with this placement are likely to hate working for others and will try to succeed in their own businesses. Mars in the second house is willing to take all kinds of risks to further financial success. Not a bad placement for entrepreneurship. You need that cut-throat martian energy to get ahead in the business world. As a result, those with a second-house Mars’ find risks and challenges exciting. It invigorates them. This placement can also indicate the native holds tightly to their possessions. Remember Mars is god of war so in the unfortunate occasion were to come about where a possession is taken from them or if anything they value is lost or taken, an explosive temper is often encountered as a result. 

Jupiter in the 2nd

Jupiter in the second house is the best placement there is. Personally, I feel it’s even better than Venus, because Venus makes one likely to buy things that they simply don’t need, while Jupiter influences the wealth to expand. Also, Jupiter is the planet of luck, so natives having it located in this house will simply be lucky in this department of life. For example, they may be lazy but they somehow end up earning money regardless They just don’t seem to want for much. At least not for long. There is a faith [Jupiter] that the world will somehow provide all that is needed in life. These people often gain wealth without having it as their focus. It may come to them through a simple windfall. Jupiter Is also the planet of expansion, so natives may accumulate a lot of funds but also be just as generous sharing it or spending it. Be careful for OVER spending. Jupiter can indicate excess of spending accumulated resources. However, since this is still the planet of luck and abundance we’re speaking of, 2nd house Jupiterians are likely to regain their wealth despite it being affected/afflicted in any way.

Uranus in the 2nd

Uranus (which is the most unpredictable planet) in the second house causes sudden and unexpected changes a native’s financial well-being. For example, you might receive unexpected earnings, but also unexpected expenses. Uranus here may lead the native to find creative and unique ways of earning money. This placement also gives the native an ability to make money in some of the most unusual and ingenious ways. Also, even if Uranus causes one to lose money, it also gives resourcefulness and adaptability when it comes to finances and helps the native survive difficult times.

Neptune in the 2nd

This placement is a hazy one-- but of course, we would expect nothing less from Neptune. Typically people with this placement just don’t care about material things, and therefore the topic of money is not important to them. TYPICALLY. It is not uncommon for a situation to occur with a native where, even if they have money, they don’t pay attention to how much of it there is, or how much they spend. They can be absent-minded. Which is why natives here need to take care in regard to their cash. They can be scammed and easy to deceive, especially if one’s Neptune is negatively aspected by Mercury or Mars. 2nd house Neptunians are likely to spend most of their money on entertainment/art/ Sometimes even basic needs are neglected to satisfy the craving for that which is creative and beautiful. This will be further exacerbated if Jupiter and Venus are forming aspects in the same house or aspecting Neptune in hard aspect. A native may spend all his money in such pursuits, and yet not be too much affected by the fact. Instead, they'll start from scratch with their savings. Like nothing ever happened. If forming benefic aspects to Jupiter, the native will simply come across more money “luckily”. Best scenario job-wise or simply life-wise for this placement would have the native making a living doing something artistic and spiritual. Where they can tap into the unknown or abstract and make their bread and butter from it.

[art-now-italy]

Human aerodynamic 18, Dario Moschetta

Acrylic on canvas 100x150cm From HDL Magazine interview How old are you? What do you feel when you make art? I’m 40 years old, so I’m pretty young. When I’m painting and working to some mixed media I don’t have complex thoughts, I just think about giving the right color, the right shadow and the right light to the artwork. I often stop and take a few steps back to look at what I’ve done, and I look at it very differently compared with the way I observe it as I’m working on it. I think about what I can do to improve it, if I’m going in the right direction, if the artwork I’m creating is better or worse that the last one I made. I don’t think about who’s going to look at it when it’s done, I’m the one who has to be satisfied, I’m the one who must like the final result, otherwise I’ll put it away where I won’t see it for a long time or I’ll throw it away. Do you surprise yourself at your art – at the process or the results? Sure, I can surprise myself about what I’m creating when I’m painting. Sometimes a few brush or spatula strokes given casually in the chaotic central stage of the work have something magic, a evolution, a combination, a color or a mix of colors that are simply nice to see by themselves as they are in the landscape of the paiting. Even the paint dripping on the canvas can fascinate me: too much water, too much diluent or too much color squeezed out of the tube starts sliding on the surface and I watch it intrigued a sit changes direction without no logic, it stops whenever it wants, and in the end it gives a profound meaning to the artwork. Obviously these “randomnesses” stay and I don’t even think about adjusting them. What is your Inspiration – at life, and in your art? In the world of art I’m inspired by the beauty of people, by the effort to try and understand one person’s mood by looking at her face or at the movements of her body. I like bodies in motion, naked bodies, expressive faces, mood changes. I think in life a spontaneous behavior can protects you from bad surprises, so I think that what inspires me is my emotional side, if I want to do something I do it without thinking about it too much, I don’t like to imitate other people’s behaviour. Maybe sometimes I follow someone’s advice, but that must be a sincere advice coming from someone who’s very close to me. What are the main stages in your career? What attracted you to this world of art at the beginning? There have been many important moment in my life. To make a list would be a problem. If I should chose a crucial one, then I’d say when I lost my job as a tecnical employee. I’ve always drawn and painted since I can remember, but I’ve always considered the sudden lost of that job as a new beginning. Since then I started to engage seriously in what I do now: artworks. What lures me to this kind of work is the absolute freedom to do exactly what I want whenever I want. It’s that special kind of deep meditation I experience when I work, everything vanishes and nothing bothers me anymore, everything is peace when I create something with my two own hands. Do you create a story in your mind when you work on a piece? a story about your characters if it’s a portrait, or a story about the city if it’s a cityscapes? When I work on a new artwork I want to describe reality at first. As far as I’m concerned, making a portrait is not only to preserve the face of a person, but also to give others (people looking at it) some kind of emotion, instill a feeling that can be different from person to person. I’d like to create a memento for a brief instant, to make people see the human condition, sad or either happy. We all know what a smiling face look like, but to see one more painted is always useful. Do you discover new things about yourself during your work? To be honest I don’t find out nothing more of what I already know about myself when I work. I’d like to be able to do that. Maybe one day it will happen and maybe it will be the day I’ll begin a new phase, maybe I won’t paint anymore and I’ll dedicate myself to sculpture, or maybe I’ll direct movies. I’m curious about what will come next. Can you describe me your work process? How is your day looks like? Is it all about art? As for the cityscapes the process is pretty complicated, I start from a printed photographic base and then I melt the printing pigments with a vinyl glue. It’s a process that resembles the printing of photographic negatives. Then it’s time for the acrylic color, creating some tension with lines, trying to make the city’s personality stand out, without showing its citizens. It’s like looking at a photo of the African savannah: you know it’s the savannah even if there are no lions or elephants. Then I glue the whole thing on a solid surface like canvas or wood, or some recyclable materials. I scratch the surface with variuos tools, chisels, files, sandpaper. I want the artwork to look like those worn out movies posters that you see along the streets. The more they look worn out the better it is. Are your images come from dreams or other unconscious areas in you?… Please give me examples from your work I will be honest: before I start to paint a portrait or a nude or before I start a cityscapes, the image I want to obtain comes from a heap of images or footage in my head. It’s like I’m directing a movie and I can choose from all those frames at my disposal. Of course I have movies I’m particularly fond of and sometimes I draw frames from them. Some movies have wonderful framings that are as good as paintings. I like to think about Kubrick or Antonioni, real artisans that chose the best angles and the best means to shoot them. As for the cityscapes, I often think about those from on high framings of Christopher Nolan’s movies, a slow and fluid motion of cities that look desert, no people around. People build cities but cities are the first thing you see when you’re flying on a plane above them. What is the purpose of art at all ,as you see it , and your art in particular? I don’t know what art is supposed to mean, but the will to be amazed is alive and kicking in us all. So I think that amaze people is a pretty good satisfaction. The illusionist that can make people stare with their mouth wide open with a hocus-pocus is the happiest of men. The artis is an illusionist, and when the magic works people go to the museum or to an exibition and stare with eyes and mouth wide open, and sometimes even cry. I saw that happening with my own eyes. Do you have things or techniques you want to develop or new field you want to research in your art for the next five years? There are so many things I want to do, or I’d like to do. I’ll paint big size paintings for sure, like 2x2 meters or thereabouts. The more the field of vision is filled with color and artistic reality the more you can be in tune with yourself, with nature and with other human beings. Monet succeeded in doing it in a superlative way with his Waterlilies at the Orangerie. To direct a movie would be great. What are the feedbacks you get? What are the emotions that your work stimulate in viewers? I like to know that people like my artworks. They often tell me that my cityscapes convey quite well the chaos, even though there is no chaos at all. Maybe they unsettle people because we all know what these piles of concrete and glass hide. What are you working on now? I’m working on some big size portraits and nudes with intense colors like the last selfportrait I did, wich is 142x177 cm. I like to give large brush strokes on the canvas, to move a lot in front of an idea I sketched with the pen, and to mix a great deal of colors. I’ve seen a footage of a Japanese artist who painted some beautiful Koi fishes on a canvas that was so big that he could paint with a broom. I’d like to try that.

https://www.saatchiart.com/art/Painting-Human-aerodynamic-18/337243/2807313/view

[maxparkhurst]

How did you create your characters? What was your process?

TMI Tuesday:  How did you create your characters? What was your process?

// <offers out a chair> You’re going to want to sit for this. It’s going to be a LONG story. For those who’re looking for a short answer: I’m actually in the middle of creating these two. Edits and tweaks are always being made to make them appear real and true. And it’s thanks to everyone on here and in-game that they’ve progressed so much. 

Now for the long version. 

<buckles seat belt> 

Evolving as an Author:

Maxinora and Augustine Parkhurst are a culmination of ideas inspired by a myriad of things. The process of creating them isn’t linear. It has a lot of pit falls, unexpected twists and turns, and a ton of hills. To understand how we got the current versions of these two, we need to go back a couple years ago. 

It’s the summer of 2012. In efforts to get me off of his account, my Dad gifted me my own. This was when I made my first ever serious roleplay character- a hunter named Evelon Holmwood. Well, at the time I spelled it like Evavllyn but...Yeah. We’re going to gloss over that fact. Now, Eve was my pride and joy for the last several years. I played this character nonstop, refusing to play or write about anyone else. In retrospect, I used this character more as therapy than anything of creative merit. 

Eve’s story was basic at best. But I got better with story-telling the older I got. Unfortunately, her story got so convoluted that I had hard time salvaging anything from it. Now, you’re probably asking: How does this relate to Max? Fear not. I’m getting there. It was around this existential crisis that a mutual friend of my boyfriend and I convinced us to leave WoW and hop on SWTOR. My boyfriend was more than eager to make the switch but I was skeptical. Leaving WoW meant leaving Eve. And was I ready for that? 

He assured me I was and helped me make a character on SWTOR. This was the first iteration of Max. A bounty hunter from Nar’Shadda named Maxinora Fenrik. My intentions was to make her a lowkey copy of Eve. At this time, I wasn’t very confident in my writing abilities and liked to stay in my lane. But, the more I roleplayed this character the more she took on a life of her own. She evolved past Eve and exceeded my expectations. Playing a new character bolstered my confidence and while I no longer play SWTOR -due to OOC reasons- I still have fond memories with this character. I enjoyed this character so much that I reused several components of her design when making Max. Some which include her name and being blind in one eye. 

I flipped between the MMOs when Legion dropped. Expenses started to pile up and between the two subscriptions I didn’t have the time to play both. In the end, WoW won my affection and I made a Blood Elf because I had friends on Horde Side. Rorien Hawkthorne was her name. A drunk artist and master assassin. She’d be the second iteration of Max. She had an older sister complex, an affinity for being melancholy, and it was my first experience with playing a character who could kept secrets- or tried to at least. Another new character under the belt and I was feeling a little more confident in my story telling abilities. I’d probably would’ve kept playing that character if not for OOC drama happening in a guild I was in. The fallout had me jump back to the Alliance where I indulged in creature comforts. It was back to Eve. 

Tumblr made an entrance in my life around then as I ventured forth with a refreshed look on my hunter. I salvaged what I could and made a half-decent story. A lot of her misadventures are still posted up on her blog @evelonholmwood​ On the side I made the third iteration of Max. A fire mage and blacksmith combo by the name of Rowan Celwick with her younger brother Thomas Celwick.  They were just two orphaned kids trying to make a life in Stormwind. Rowan was an arcane drop-out and blacksmith wannabe and Thomas...Was...Well? Thomas? A glorified side-piece? A way to garner pity for Rowan. I didn’t place a lot of emphasis on them or their characters. My main focus was Eve. But these two would be the underlying foundation of Max and Auggie’s characters. 

I eventually took a hiatus from WoW and focused on more personal writing. The details are boring so I’ll gloss over it by saying that creating a character completely from scratch was the final push in the right direction for me. Fast forward several months to a year aaaaaand BOOM! Pandemic. 

Writing is an escape for me. It’s one of my best coping mechanisms during trying times. And when nothing else works, I over indulge in some Warcraft. So, I resubbed. There was hesitance when re-entering the RP scene. I didn’t leave Eve’s story off on an convenient note. For lack of better phrasing, I wrote myself into a hole I couldn’t get out of. So, with the help of my boyfriend, I decided it was time to give Eve her happy ending and shelf her for good. 

Which put me in a dilemma! Who was I going to RP? Well, you remember the Celwicks? They became my newest project. 

The Creative Process: 

I knew the Celwick story was weak and read much like a middle-school fanfiction. Revising was a must. But there were integral pieces to their story which I enjoyed: 

Familial Sacrifice 

Juxtaposing concepts

Intertwined Fates

These were themes I could work with and evolve. Keeping these in mind, I started to deconstruct the Celwick story line. They were no longer Gilnean but Kul’tiran. This prompted a name change from Celwick to Parkhurst. And I won’t lie, I like the sound of Parkhurst better than Celwick. Thomas became Augustine and Rowan became Maxinora (Mainly because I actually HAD the name Maxinora and not Rowan). The little changes got me hyped for the characters. 

Next, I started to trim away the unnecessary details that bogged down the narrative. Things that either didn’t fit or made the timeline too convoluted were replaced. Pyromancy was a great example. The age I wanted Max to be wouldn’t yield to her understanding of Pyromancy. At least, not to the level I WANTED it to be. SO, I turned it into lament’s magic. Alchemy. (I also always wanted to play an alchemist since watching FMA) 

A girl with two professions seemed excessive as well. I had to look at why I wanted her to be both an Alchemist and a Blacksmith. The answer was simple. I just liked the juxtaposition of an intelligent woman being rough and tumble. Which made me ask: Was Blacksmithing necessary to achieve that imagine? The answer was no. To pay respect to her previous iteration, I made their parents blacksmiths. It also let me keep themes of fire in her concept. The change in profession brought on a change in her appearance. I made her a little more slender to fit with the alchemist appeal. 

Max’s aesthetic was brought on by my previous characters.  Rorien inspired more internal facets of Max while Fenrik inspired outward appearances. Max’s auburn was strictly a decision made on the fact that I had one too many character’s with black hair. There wasn’t any other reason for it. 

Designing Max was easy. The real challenge was with Augustine. Up until that point, all I had to go on for his character was Tommy Celwick and...Well. There wasn’t a lot there. He wasn’t much more than a poorly used trope and I considered doing away with him all together. But I realized that I REALLY liked the trope and I liked what he did for Max’s character.  So, I buckled down and made myself think through all the reasons why Thomas Celwick -AKA Augustine Parkhust- needed to exist. 

I decided that I needed him in order to present themes in Max’s story. He was the foil to her character. Cynic older sister? Meet optimistic brother. He also appealed to not only the three themes listed above, but also the newest one I wanted to explore: two sides of the same coin. Max and Augustine are simultaneously the same, having similar traumas, and yet different. If for nothing else, Augustine could help propel Max in the right direction. Be her moral compass, you know? With a bit of half-assing here and there, I managed to get a decent character out of Augustine. Took the cliche nerdy brother idea, physical design and all, and ran with it. Shortly after I  made their Tumblr account. In no way did I expect this BOY to take on a life of his own. Like, Auggie knocked on my brain’s door and was like, “Yeah. No. I’m not a side character. Give me my own story...” 

Which will bring me into my final point! 

The Characters Write Their Own Story: 

I’ve never been able to sit down and plan a story. My mind doesn’t work in such a structured fashion. It wanders and explores. When I’m creating, I’m watching. Watching the scenes play out before my eyes as these characters take what I’ve given them and grow into something almost independent of me. The basic pieces of Max and Auggie’s back story, along with character design, were purposeful. Yes. But everything that came after was THEM.

It’s cliche, I know, but I can’t describe this experience any other way. These two grew outside of my influence and now dominate a space in my brain. They talk, work, and interact without me. I mean...Not REALLY. But...It feels like that. It feels I’m watching through a keyhole and just recording what I see as their story plays out. 

I guess a better analogy is me being the director. I’m watching the movie in the stands as two actors improv. On good days, I’m in control and rework scenes until I’m satisfied with the results. Try this. Move here. Say this. On bad days, I don’t see anything. My actors went home. The lights are off. Show’s cancelled for the day. These days make me sad...But they’re worth it because on the BEST days...The best days Max and Auggie run the whole show, and I am watching through the keyhole as their story unfolds little by little. 

It’s truly magical. 

The last part of their creation was the voice. Character voice, for me, is like building muscle. You need to work out. Start small and work your way up in weight. Every little piece I wrote made their voices stronger; and that’s including asks and threads. Interacting with other characters helped to flesh them out as people. And while it was hard and intimidating at first, it’s started to become easier. 

Wrap-Up

My method is messy and untrained. I don’t claim to have any secrets. My knowledge of writing is mediocre at best. But I’m having fun. And that’s were the real magic of any character comes in. Fun. Because if you aren’t writing about something that sparks your soul- either with love, happiness, hatred, etc- then it’s nothing more than a forced, hollow husk. Writing is meant to evoke emotion. At least in mind. And want to express complex emotions and share them. In a perfect world? My characters -any of my characters- resonates with someone. They become the escape someone needed. That’s the ultimate goal. 

It’s thanks to all of you that Max and Auggie have come this far. It’s from their interactions with others that they’ve managed to evolve into something incredible- especially Augustine. He just kept shining brighter and brighter until I felt obligated to make him an in-game character. So, you all are just as much a part in the creative process as me. Thank you! 

And a special thanks to my boyfriend for always being a sound board for my rambling ass <3 

THANK YOU FOR THE ASK, ANON! Sorry I posted an essay...<3 

[things2mustdo]

Last year I gave up my Krav Maga self-defense training when I was in the middle of changing jobs. I never picked it back up.

While I stay quite busy splitting my time between my three main sources of income, last month I began to feel like something was missing. I was getting too comfortable with my daily routine– bored, too.

So I decided to start training in martial arts again, this time signing up for a Muay Thai gym. It’s already reinvigorated my sense of drive across other areas of my life. Here are the top 5 reasons you should start a new hobby today.

1. It breaks up your current routine

As humans we search for a sense of regularity. We often find it in our daily activities.

For example, my days typically consist of working from home in the morning, primarily on my computer, lifting weights, and then training a few clients in the late afternoon and evening. I enjoy this routine, but flying on autopilot has its dangers.

You aren’t as sharp. Everything is too calculated and expected. By training  in Muay Thai every other day I have something new to look forward to. It also has changed my lifting routine, to accommodate for the added exercise and fatigue.

2. It pushes you outside of your comfort zone

When I stepped into the Muay Thai gym for the first time I didn’t know what to expect. It was a lot different than the place I used to train Krav Maga at– more serious, less friendly even.

The seasoned fighters looked at me with a sense of superiority. And they were superior. But rather than backing down, being nervous, and quitting after one day– I took this as a challenge.

I was far from comfortable training that day. I wasn’t able to execute crisp Thai kicks or jump rope like a boss.  But being too comfortable can be a bad thing. You’ll cease to explore new opportunities and your growth with falter across the board.

By throwing yourself at something new, that you’re inexperienced at, you’ll be pushed outside of your comfort zone. This is a good thing. You must stay accustomed to living at the edge of your comfort zone to ensure steady growth and progress.

3. You’ll learn new skills

This point is obvious. By taking Muay Thai, I’ll learn a host of new fighting skills.

4. It gives you a new area to set goals for

The habit of setting and achieving goals is the most important habit a man can build. By entering into a new hobby, you now have a whole new area of your life that where you can practice setting and accomplishing goals.

For my Muay Thai experience I’ll start small. My first goal is to be able to execute a Thai kick with my left and have it feel as natural as with my right. I’ll work my way up to bigger goals as I improve.

This is the beauty of starting at something from scratch. At first you’ll set one small goal after another. This cycle will build momentum, and before you know it, you’ll no longer be a novice. More importantly, this momentum will carry over to other areas of your life and give you the confidence to crush more and bigger goals.

5. You’ll meet new people

Another obvious point. When you try something new, you’re bound to meet new people. Whether these turn out to be man friends or cute girls depends on the hobby you choose, but either way meeting new people is always a positive thing.

Potential Hobbies

I’ll leave you with a short list of potential hobbies for you to try today:

1. Martial arts/self-defense: Muay Thai, Brazilian Ju-Jitsu, Krav Maga 2. Cooking 3. Salsa Dancing 4. Lifting weights (you should already be doing this) 5. Yoga 6. Writing 7. Mountain Biking

Check out my new #1 Amazon Bestseller, The Book of Alpha. It’s full of direct, actionable advice for the man who wants to better himself.

Read Next: 5 Reasons To Learn Krav Maga

Krav Maga is a self-defense system created based upon the street fighting skills of Hungarian-Israeli martial artist Imi Lichtenfeld. He used it to defend the Jewish quarter where he lived against fascist groups in the 1930s. Later, in the 40s he moved to Israel and began to offer combat training lessons to what later became the IDF (Israeli Defense Forces). The IDF has used, and continued to develop the system to this day.

The basic principle of Krav Maga is inflicting maximum damage to the opponent(s) in order to end the fight as quickly as possible. Brutal counter-attacks using your most effective tool (knees, elbows, weapons, etc.) to target your opponent’s weakest area (neck, throat, eyes, knees, ribs, solar plexus, groin, etc.) are the focus. For this reason, it is not a competitive martial arts, like Brazilian Ju-Jitsu or Muay Thai, because people would die.

When I heard that Jason Bourne uses Krav Maga (which I later found out was, in fact, not true) and that it teach gun defenses (i.e. the most alpha technique ever), I immediately signed up. I just finished 6 months of training. It is indeed awesome. Here are the top 5 reasons you should sign up for classes today:

1. You will become a badass.

Nothing boosts confidence and testosterone levels like knowing you are legitimately prepared for whatever. Very few people have any formal self-defense or fight training. As a result, in tense situations where most people lose it, you will keep your cool. If something ever does go down, you’re ready.

2. It is practical and intuitive.

Most martial arts are strongly based in ritual, and as a result often incorporate different forms or strange techniques. Krav is different. Brutal efficiency is the only concern. For this reason, many of the strikes and defenses utilize the same basic motion (e.g. the straight punch and many of the defenses against punches and knives). Moreover, all of the techniques are built upon the body’s natural instincts (e.g. bringing your hands to your neck during a choke defense).

3. It is great exercise.

Between the drills themselves and the conditioning, you are guaranteed a hell of a workout. Three minutes of throwing punches or knee strikes is exhausting. So is three minutes of burpees. Side note: The level 1 Krav test was the single most intense physical event of my life. Seriously. Three hours straight of punches, kicks, choke defenses, and groundwork is no joke. I consider myself to be is great shape and I almost vomited on multiple occasions.

4. It relieves stress.

Sure, so do most workouts, but pounding a kicking shield, or throwing your partner to the floor is a whole different ball game.

5. It is the perfect hobby.

I came to my first class with no idea how to throw a proper punch. After a couple weeks I thought I was Jason Bourne. After a couple months I realized that I wasn’t. After 6 months I look back and I am amazed at the progress I made. Experiencing this progress is extremely satisfying.

Clearly taking up Krav Maga has many benefits. One word of caution – make sure you train somewhere with certified, experienced instructors. I have seen locations that turn it into a strictly cardio exercise experience, with little focus on technique – not good. So go take advantage of that free first class, now.

Check out my new #1 Amazon Bestseller, The Book of Alpha. It’s full of direct, actionable advice for the man who wants to better himself.

Read More: The Only 2 Things A Man Can Depend On

I was born alone and I will die alone. I’ve got to do what’s right for me and not live my life the way anybody else wants it.

– Curtis Jackson

If life were a board game, you’d be the game piece.

In reality, life isn’t much different from a game. There isn’t a defined end goal, however. You get to choose it. It could be power and respect. It could simply be happiness. Or it could be more specific: money or women, for example. Whatever it is, you choose.

In a board game there are strict limitations. In life, we’re encouraged to follow laws and social norms, but for the most part we’re free to do as we choose. There are infinite paths that will take you to any goal imaginable.

Along the way you’ll deal with many people. Some will help you, others won’t. You can grow to depend on the ones that help you, but that always incurs a risk. A family member can die. A close friend can betray you. Your girl can leave you. How will you react when one of these things happens?

Playing with others is a necessary part of the game. But never depend on them. Doing so will ultimately lead to failure and disappointment.

Accept that the only two things you can ever count on are your body and your mind– your game piece. You must tend to these things like a gardener tends to his plants. Focus on improving them and facilitating their health and growth and you’ll always put yourself in the best position to win.

If some tragedy befalls a dependent man, he may sink into depression. He might feel like he’s lost all hope of accomplishing his mission in life. He might give up.

A truly independant man, however, will not. He’s prepared, on some level, for each of these tragedies. He doesn’t have a specific game plan for when his best friend betrays him, per se. But he’s put himself in a good position, both physically and mentally, that he can weather the storm. Not only can he weather the storm, but he can keep his cool and make the fine adjustments needed to get the ship back on course.

Below I’ll offer the basic tasks one must do to protect his game piece, and see it thrive.

1. Your Body

If you take care of your body, it will be strong and healthy. It will also help foster a potent mind. Yes, there’s always the rare risk of contracting some form of cancer or another deadly disease, but if you follow the steps below, you all but rule these things out.

1. Eat good food

I won’t go into specifics, because everyone’s diet will, and should, be different.

But if you focus your diet around meat, fruits, and vegetables your body will flourish. Meat provides the protein and amino acids your body needs to grow. The fruits and vegetables provide the fiber and vitamins you need to function over the long run. A man with a solid diet will respond better to stress, and therefore be more self reliant.

2. Lift weights

In short, lifting weights develops a strong nervous, muscular, and skeletal system. These are the three main systems that run your body. An efficient body is like a strong ship– it will weather the storm better and be far more dependable in your journey.

The most brutally simple and effective lifting program is StrongLifts 5×5. It focuses on building strength across the five most basic movements humans are meant to do (squat, deadlift,  bench press, row, and overhead press).

2. Your Mind

You must also foster a capable mind. One that can stand on it’s own two feet. The strongest body won’t accomplish anything without an equally impressive mind.

1. Read books

Reading a book is like absorbing another man’s lifelong wisdom. The more books you read, the more you’ll know and the wiser you’ll be. Blogs are okay, but the average quality of a blog post is decidedly lower than what you find in a book. People simply put more time, effort, and value into books.

The knowledge you acquire in books also contributes to your self reliance. It offers quality wisdom and advice– that can’t be taken away from you.

2. Meditate

Meditation is the act of being comfortable being alone. When you meditate, you remove all of the outside noise. All of the thoughts, gossip, music, news, women, men, business, sex– everything. You are left with only yourself.

Many men can’t stand meditation because they’ve grown dependant on all of this external stimulation. They aren’t comfortable in their own skin. And thus they’ve lost their edge, their self reliance.

[himluv]

Love Birds

Belatedly, day 7 of 14 Days of Dragon Age Lovers. I hope you enjoy it!

This was ridiculous. She was a grown woman, not some lovestruck teenager. The idea of her… well, whatever Solas was to her, coming to her quarters shouldn’t make her stomach all aflutter. And yet, here she was, nervously fawning over her room to make sure it was clean and tidy before he saw it.

Even though they were just going to make a mess of it anyway.

The knock on her bedroom door startled Riallan, and she had to remind herself not to skip down the stairs. She opened the door to reveal Solas in his leggings and the sleeveless undershirt he wore beneath his tunic. His arms were full of paint supplies.

“Oh!” She said. “Let me help you.” She took a handful of brushes and a jar of paint as she held the door for him.

“Thank you, Ria.”

She climbed the stairs after him, nearly colliding with him as he’d paused at the top. He stared at the bare expanse of stone over her canopy bed.

He glanced down at her. “You’re right. It needs a mural.” He continued into her room, depositing the paints on her desk. “The question is, what would you like?”

She’d thought a lot about what should decorate her quarters. All over Skyhold Dalish banners and flags proclaimed her allegiance, her origins, and hopefully her future. The throne told of her power, a reminder of the magic that coursed through he veins. But nothing spoke of who she was in this moment. Of the world as she saw it each morning. Of who she’d become.

Inquisitor.

“I have an idea,” she said and led him to the hidden ladder that led up to the little alcove above her bed. It took a couple trips to get all their supplies up there, but once they did she told him her plan and he smiled.

“Perfect.” He opened a jar full of black paint, the smell sharp and acrid. Nothing like the bright, clean scent of plaster in the rotunda. “A simpler design is best for learning.”

He handed her a thick brush, and suddenly she was so nervous. She didn’t know how to paint, and her drawings as a child were crude, even if Deshanna loved them. She was not an artist, but Solas was. She would only mess up whatever beautiful thing he set out to create.

“I don’t know what to do,” she said, the brush hanging in the air between them.

“I know, vhenan.” He smiled. “That’s why I am going to teach you.” He picked out a similar brush and dipped it in the paint, slowly scraping the excess off on the edges of the jar.

“What if I’m bad at it?”

He snorted. “You will be,” he said. “All beginners are. That is the nature of art.” He settled his gaze on her, and Riallan felt flushed and soothed all at once. “All that matters, if you truly wish to create, is that you do not give up.”

“Well, I’m nothing if not stubborn,” she said, and dipped her brush into the black paint.

“So I noticed.” He smirked and put his brush to the stone.

Riallan watched him, analyzed the motion of his wrist and how his fingers cradled the brush. He went slow, conscious of her eyes on him, but kept his eyes on his work as she struggled to imitate him. How did he hold the brush so easily? It was as if it was all his hands had ever known, the tool a natural extension of his arm. His strokes were bold and confident, easy and assured. She would never be able to emulate his broad swathes of color.

But once she pressed bristles to stone all her anxiety melted away. The scratch of the horse hair on the stone, the way it vibrated up through her fingers, was so satisfying. It focused her mind and fascinated her attention as her ever-seeking curiosity catalogued the new information.

“Good, vhenan,” Solas said. He leaned closer to her, his hand taking hers and guiding it up the wall in a long stroke. “Like this.” His breath on her neck made her shiver and they both went still.

A moment, a heartbeat, a breath. The pause felt longer, but Solas didn’t move, didn’t release her hand.

“You’re blushing,” he said.

Which of course only made her blush worse. She’d made no secret of her desire for him; she was ready whenever he decided he was. But the waiting was slowly killing her. And now he was in her quarters, his hand warm on hers, his breath on her neck and a flash of heat ignited deep in her belly. All she could think of was that her bed was so close.

She cleared her throat. “You were saying?”

He gave her a knowing smile, but said nothing more about her obvious state. Solas showed her a few different techniques, his chest pressed to her back as he guided her hand. And then his mouth pressed to her neck.

Riallan stiffened against him before tilting her head back to rest on his shoulder. She bit her lip and tried to stifle the moan building low in her throat. Perhaps if she was quiet he wouldn’t think to stop.

“You’re making a mess, vhenan,” he said, his lips brushing the sensitive skin just behind her ear.

Sure enough, the brush dangled from her fingers, black paint dripping onto the floor of the loft. His chuckle in her ear ignited something in her, something frustrated and playful and daring. Before she could overthink it, or talk herself out of it, Riallan took the brush and pushed it into his face, leaving a black streak of paint down his cheek.

Solas blinked at her, stunned. She laughed but the sound trailed off when she saw the mischievous glint in his eyes.

She brandished her brush in defense. “Don’t.”

He dipped two fingers into the jar of black paint as a slow grin claimed his face. He was suddenly predatory, his eyes consuming her every move with the heat of his gaze. She was riveted by the sight of him, playful and yet so hungry for her.

It made her an easy target.

She shrieked as cold paint flicked onto her face and he laughed, a rich sound she still marveled at. His laughter was so rare, she cherished every instance.

And so the game was on, and they smeared paint over the floor, wall, and each other until they laughed and shouted themselves breathless. Until she’d thrown herself at him and proclaimed herself the winner because she ended up on top.

Solas cupped her face in both hands, the black paint everywhere, and kissed her.

“So much for the mural,” she said when they broke apart.

He glanced at the wall, then looked back at her, his thumb tracing her lip. “We will simply have to work on it another day.”

She hummed her approval of the idea as she dipped down to kiss him again. She was happy for any excuse to bring him to her room, even one so flimsy as painting a mural.

Though, explaining the mess would be difficult. But that was a worry for later. For now she would happily be distracted by his kisses.

[sworn-unbeliever]

09 - Lush

((I think this one is more ‘plush’ than ‘lush.’ Another silly throwaway idea that became longer than I expected. How did that happen? Also, this is the house of my free company, Eidolons, home to old friends and wonderful people. The place is on Sargatanas, Goblet, 18th Ward, Plot 38. Reonora and Alto are also my chars. Rosemary is Reonora’s retainer, but the character belongs to @abeat​. Also, the martial arts style they’re doing here is Wing Chun. Relevant link!))

wc: 1,782

Darkness and stars canvased the sky by the time Teremy returned to the place he currently called home. Feymarch. Owned by the free company Eidolons. “Beware of cats,” said the tagline. Mostly because except for the odd couple of hyurs, a viera and a lalafell, the free company denizens comprised of mostly miqo’te. Cats. He was a cat. He fit the description.

Especially the beware part. Right now, as his mood had long sank alongside the sun, neither his intentions nor his instincts could be held responsible for anyone that dared to approach him right now.

The day had started off as usual with a training schedule that lasted from dawn until dusk. Most of the time people left him alone and that was fine by him. Only after dusk set in than suddenly people remembered that Teremy existed.

And was a gunbreaker. Among other things. But first and foremost, a tank.

And stupid him to not put his foot down their requests of help. He just had to dive headfirst into combat for anyone in need. He just had to let foolish ideas take over--ideas such as how all their various excursions sounded like fun.

Fun. Hah. His body now found itself at the point where he could no longer delude himself of that.

“Oh, you’re young. You’ll shake it off in no time,” said one of the party members.

“Shake it off. Good one.” Teremy went through the motions of using the warrior skill. Had his brother been here, Jeremy would have pointed and clicked a finger gun. Had Teremy done that, he would have had his gunblade in his hand and fired an actual bullet. Bad idea in progress.

His usual controlled gait ambled like a zombie fresh out of the grave as he stumbled into the house. Not caring who saw him in a state of disrobement, he threw off his clothes and took a shower. He stumbled back upstairs wearing some fresh clothes of his usual monk attire, and made a beeline for what he believed to be straight to his room. His mood and nerves were shot beyond all hell and only the piano could satisfy his ire. Even if he ended up falling asleep on the piano lid, just like during his beginning days of training.

Teremy trudged towards what he believed to be his room. His eyes had started glazing over, obscuring most of his vision. When he stepped into the room, all he could see were bright lights, a cheery light-blue wallpaper with some dark patches near the bottom, and the scent of light perfume. Various types of lush couches spread around the room, creating a couple of sitting areas. Teremy felt tempted to collapse on any one of said couches until he found the most comfortable chair worthy of his slumber, but instead, his sights locked onto the lushest bed he had ever seen. At the far left corner laid a round canopied bed of pure luxury.

Nevermind what in the nine hells made a bed appear in his room. Or couches. Or plants. Or cheerful spriggan-splotched wallpaper. A bed. A bed that called his name. His bed now.

From his position at the center of the room, he vaulted directly onto the bed, changing trajectory in mid-air. By the time he landed on the bed, his left side touched the soft mattress. He sank into the middle of the bed upon collision and then sprang back up approximately halfway. He chuckled softly and happily like a small child. Who cared how stupid he sounded. Naysayers could go to hell. Lying in place, he shut his eyes and purred loudly, a small smile creeping on his lips. Eventually his purrs ebbed away into soft, rhythmic breathing.

‘If this bed is karma’s reward for a hard day’s work, then hell fucking thank.’ was the last thing he thought before he became dead to the world.

* * *

“... there’s not much to see here as this is merely a room where I keep extra furnishings, but feel free to look around,” said the voice of Reonora Aestethe as the half-keeper opened the door to her room.

The client, a green-haired viera named Alto Aria, ducked as she crept in, her shoulders hunched and hands apologetically in front of her as though feeling nervous to enter. Behind them, out of their line of sight but not out of their hearing was Reonora’s retainer, a blonde lalafell named Rosemary.

“Should anything catch your interest, just tell me what you wish for and I’ll put it outside for you to pick up.” Reonora continued.

As though anticipating the client to point at anything and to remember what was in her room in the first place, Reonora scanned the terrain. The usual couches. Table of fruit. Some plants and pretending to be hidden behind an oriental partition. The usual glade bed.

And one brown-haired miqo’te curled up on top of it.

Out of shock and a sudden surge of overstimulation, Reonora covered her mouth with both hands and let loose a soft gasp.

“What’s wrong?” Alto asked.

“N-nothing, it’s that… ah…” A million thoughts swirled around Reonora’s mind all at once. What if Alto wanted that bed? The ceiling was too low for Reonora to tip the bed over, let alone lift over her head and slide Teremy off. Would him being there make the bed less desirable to have, much like sitting on the warm seat of a chair? Either way, Reonora was with a client and would prefer to have the seeker out of the room.

‘What was his name again?’ Reonora tilted her head. ‘Right, Teremy. Right. Like ‘Jeremy’ but with a T.’

Reonora approached by the left side of the bed. She now faced his back and reached over to gently his shoulder. “Teremy…”

Before her hand touched him, Teremy whirled around and grabbed Reonora’s wrist.

Thanks to Reonora’s own strength, she jerked her hand away and pulled herself free, but not without wringing her hand afterwards. She should have figured by his attire, but his grip alone confirmed that he had some kind of martial arts training. Nevermind his ability to stop attacks in his sleep. She narrowed her eyes and said softly, “Teremy, I’m not trying to attack you. I just have a client here--” She reached over to touch him again, this time faster.

Reonora’s hand barely reached the halfway point before Teremy and his iron grip clutched her wrist again.

Reonora pulled her arm away again. Huffing childishly, she perched on the edge of the bed and went to grab her shoulder, this time allowing her battle intent shine free. As expected, he blocked and deflected her arm with his right hand.

Then suddenly, Reonora felt a sudden flash of battle aura come her way. She barely dodged to the left just to have Teremy’s fist nearly collide onto the side of her head. Instead, Reonora heard a snapping sound and felt a burst of air brush against her cheek. Had that punch connected, Reonora would have heard a bell ring three times for sure.

“P-perhaps he’s not really asleep after all?” Alto brandished her conductor’s baton. “I don’t see why you couldn’t just leave him there. It’s like invading a cat’s personal space. A-a pet cat, I mean! I mean, um...”

Had Alto said those words moments before, Reonora might have listened to her. But now, professional face off. Petty face on. Teremy’s eyes remained shut, his body relaxed, and now satisfied that his ‘threat’ had been dealt a fist of justice, he returned back to his resting position of before. He was asleep, but to be able to fight like this in his sleep…? And more importantly, to attack Reonora who had no intention of attacking him in the first place! The white-haired miqo’te clenched a fist. For the first time in a long time, she allowed her annoyance to take her over.

‘I recognise this fighting style.’ Reonora thought. ‘Emphasis on close combat in close quarters. Simultaneous attack and defense. Linear strikes to attack specific regions to knock the opponent off balance while maintaining balance themselves. Yes, it must be that style. Most likely because he wants to move as little as possible while still defending himself.’ Reonora turned to Alto and Rosemary. “Ah, please give me one moment as I try to get this unwelcome house guest off the merchandise. Health and safety hazard and all.”

Alto waved her hands. “No, that’s okay, you don’t have to--”

Too late. Reonora struck Teremy in his sleep, only to have her punch simultaneously blocked and attacked. But she was ready and deflected his own strikes. Countered. And countered. Then countered again. Their hands weaved together as though wrapping around each other, not wanting to let the other gain the better of each other. Sticky hands. Alto and Rosemary watched, the viera scratching her cheek, the lalafell tilting her head, both unsure as to how to help or what to do. Or that Reonora was attacking a sleeping young man. Or to have said young man successfully fending her off in his sleep. Finally, after what seemed like a stalemate, Reonora sighed. Annoyance quelled, her client’s requests finally reached her ears. She hopped off the bed and bowed towards the viera.

“My apologies for that unsightly display.” Reonora bowed.

“It-it’s all right. I mean, I understand. Usually in places that sell beds, people are discouraged from sleeping on the display?” said Alto. “At any rate, that bed looks lovely. I would like one commissioned for my own free company.”

Reonora raised one foot and clasped her hands in joy. “Thank you very much! My co-workers and I shall get started on the commission right away.”

However, once Reonora had set her mind off of something, said thought churned in her head like an annoying buzz. And her mind still clung onto that sleeping miqo’te and her subsequent pride as a martial artist herself. She turned back to glance at Teremy, who had rolled over and curled up on his left side like before. His left hand held his head, his right hand draped somewhere in front of him.

“Aw, let him sleep. He’s even defending his territory... with martial arts... while sleeping...” Alto giggled.

Rosemary nodded. “Once a cat chooses their spot, it’s their spot.”

Reonora sighed. “You’re right. I’m no different either. Ah well… let sleeping cats lie, I guess.”

The next afternoon when Teremy finally woke up, the seeker found himself on the receiving end of Reonora’s wagging finger, narrowed eyes and stern words. Teremy admitted he honestly had no idea what she was talking about. After all, he had been sleeping the whole time.

[gwenore]

The Demon’s Opera house. Chapter 11.

Chapter 11: Christine and Erik have an heart to heart as they start to grow closer to each other. 

---

Christine had been able to reach the evening post with a letter to Raoul as well as getting to speak with Meg who was luckily still awake. It had not been easy to explain her reasons for how she acted… but luckily Meg was just happy that she had a change of heart.

She had asked if she was worried about her tutor’s reaction to her missing a session. It was a good an explanation as any…

“Where did you get that ring?” Meg exclaimed looking at it, Christine quick to pull her hand away, rubbing her finger gently.

“A present… from my tutor,” she muttered softly. “But… I should hurry back. I will see you early tomorrow.”

Meg again was surprised at her friend’s actions… yet it all seemed to come back to this mysterious tutor…

The need to keep him secret.

Who could he be?

And then there was that she carried a ring of his… it certainly did not look like any promise ring which she had ever seen, black as coal that it was… but… if he was eccentric, which he surely must be… it was not impossible.

At once Meg’s mind went to all the scandals which so easily happened to the woman who earned the adoration of men on stage.

Yet Christine was not the type of woman to fall for the charms of such men… no he must be a musical genius of sorts… that being what drew her towards this man.

But… why keep it a secret if she was indeed engaged as the ring would suggest?

Meg knew that she had not been sleeping in the opera house for some time… though… she could not remember anyone having seen Christine actually leave… could her lover be someone at the opera house?

If that was the case… Meg could not think of who… but she was certainly going to find out!

---

After her talk with Meg, Christine had rushed over to the nearest largest mirror where Erik helped her to the other side. They didn’t speak much on the way back down, but the air was easier between them than it had been in quite some time.

Like the bad feelings had been aired out…

Of course there was much left to discuss between the two of them. However… both of them were exhausted and decided to simply have a simple meal before crawling into bed. Christine rested on the bed in her night gown as every light in the chapel went out so that again she would not see him once that mask was removed and he had to lower his guard.

She listened to his movements, trying to imagine what he was doing and what he looked like. She let out a long breath as she felt him climb up behind her.

But like before… he didn’t reach out to touch her… that distance still between them.

Christine’s eyes closed, and despite being exhausted, sleep would not come… her head was simply too filled with thoughts…

Slowly she turned around and was met with those softly glowing red eyes, the only thing that she could see in the dark. Christine let out a soft hum as a slight smile came upon her lips as even from his eyes alone she could see he was surprised.

“Cannot sleep as well?” she questioned. Due to her movement, they were now laying closer than before.

“I suppose…” he murmured softly.

“Are you in pain…?” Christine was rather concerned reaching out her hand towards his chest, but his hand grasped her, stopping her fingers from reaching him.

“No…” however his voice was rough and trembling.

“Are you certain?” she whispered, feeling how his hand gently caressed hers, running his fingertips slightly across the ring, Christine feeling an odd tingle shoot up her arm.

“Yes… you need not worry,” he whispered. Christine stared into those demonic eyes, not moving her hand away.

“Why… why was it so important that I carry your ring?” she asked, daring even to go so far as to lean even closer to him.

“It…” he murmured softly.

“For among humans… I am certain you know the meaning of it…” she tried to discern the features of his face by the light of his eyes.

“It…” he stuttered as he let his hand fall from hers, avoiding her gaze. “… I just wanted a promise… a sign… that I would no longer be alone…”

Christine swallowed, before she slowly reached out her hand, knowing that with the way they lay, his demon side was pressed against the pillow. She felt him holding his breath as her fingers brushed against his forehead, moving up towards and letting them gently brush though his hair.

“I wish I could show you that you are not alone, Erik…” she whispered softly, continuing to stroke her fingers gently through his black hair. He was practically trembling under her hand.

“Do you wish for me to stop…?” she asked, wondering if her touch was detestable to him. She felt him shake his head.

“Please… if you would… please continue,” he whispered softly. Christine gently smiled towards him nodding her head.

“As you wish…” she whispered, slowly tracing down his face, feeling his sharp cheekbones gently. His breathing shivered as he reached up his human hand, resting it on her forearm, as if he was pleading with her not to remove her hand.

Christine let her hand continue down, allowing it to rest on his neck just below his jaw bone, continuing to stroke the skin there gently.

“Life has not been kind to you… has it?” she simply whispered to him, feeling that despite he was clean shaven, there was prickling sensation where the stubble had started to grow.

Erik did not respond, simply tightening the grasp on her forearm tighter. Christine continued to gently stroked that area below his chin gently.

“How about we… talk… a bit?” she then asked. “We have talked a lot I suppose… but we haven’t truly gotten to know each other… there is still this wall between us…”

She felt his hand move up her arm slightly, caressing the silken sleeves of her night gown.

“I suppose… if you wish…” he said softly. “What do you wish to know?”

Christine thought for a while… of course there were several questions which she had been bursting to ask for a while now… about demons… all the implications that carried with it… however…

It was a sensitive time now… she would have to pick her questions carefully.

“You know so much about music… I have never met anyone who has such passion nor can play or sing like you can… but where did you learn?”

He let out a soft hum. “I suppose it is from my father’s nature… several humans have called upon him… to have him teach them the arts… to grant them the ability to reach what they have always thought was out of reach. The curse of the artist… no matter what they do… they will never be satisfied… and some are willing to sacrifice everything in a hope to reach that satisfaction…”

He shrugged slightly. “Does not end well… as the moment it is reached… the artist loose their reason for life…”

“That is… dark…” Christine whispered softly.

“I suppose… the other part is that I grew up in an opera house… even if I could not participate… I was always surrounded by music… it was my only comfort…”

Christine swallowed softly… “I… I think it is more than that…”

“Oh?” Erik questioned.

“Yes… I have stayed with you for quite some time already… I have had time to watch you. You work hard on your music… there is quite the concentrated look on your face when you play or write… you have a real passion for your work… despite your… born talents… that doesn’t take away from the work you put into your music,” she spoke honestly. Watching him work… it drew Christine closer to him. He became alluring to her…

However if she were to approach he would quickly stop what he was doing, even hiding his writings from her.

Erik had to swallow so that he would not let his voice betray the tears which ran down his cheeks. Those words… they had hit his heart deeper than the wound he had created.

“Thank you…” he murmured softly. Christine nuzzled against the pillow softly.

“I mean every word of it…” she smiled softly. “I would like to see what you have written… perhaps even sing some of it… if you would feel comfortable about it…”

She hesitated slightly as she saw how those eyes looked at her.

“I would… I would enjoy that most ardently…” he then said with a slight tremble in his voice. “I have to admit most have been written with you in mind…”

Christine’s heart skipped a beat. To think that someone had spent so much time composing something for specifically her to sing. It touched her and she felt her cheeks fluster. It was… was it not what she had ever wanted? It was… her dream… was it not?

To have someone adore her so much… that was so inspired by her… that they would compose music for her?

“I am looking forward to it…” she smiled softly towards her.

Erik had to clear his throat. “And you? Have you always wished to sing?”

Christine had to think for a bit. “I believe so… my father was a musician… a violinist.”

“I know of him… he played here more than once. He was a very talented musician,” Erik nodded his head. Christine had to let out a chuckle.

“Coming from you that is high praise indeed! I have heard you criticize just about everyone in the entire opera house!” she exclaimed, Erik himself having to let out a chuckle himself.

“Hmm… nothing which is not warranted…” he then muttered. Christine had to raise a slight brow at him, not certain if she agreed with his statement.

“Anyway… he took me on his travels… I grew up surrounded by music… and I fell in love with it. He encouraged me… he truly was a friend and a teacher as well as a father…” she said softly.”I was happy…”

Her eyes fell slightly as she let out a sigh.

“But… such times do not last… and he passed away… leaving me all alone. Luckily I had been taught ballet as well… so Madame Giry got me work here… but music has always been my true passion. I got to sing in the chorus and now I have an actual part. I know it is small, but…” she smiled. “I am truly excited for it…”

He let out a soft hum.

“I am truly happy for you… you deserve that part… and everything else…” he murmured.

“You have been very supportive to me…” she told him softly, continuing to gently scratch him with her finger nails.

“I adore you… truly… you are an angel…” he whispered softly. Christine chuckled as she shook her head.

“I don’t know about that…” Christine laughed softly. “I am far from an angel…”

“You are the closest that I will ever come to one…” came the murmur from the demon. Christine’s breath shivering a bit as she realized that he was truly damned simply by the actions of those that brought him into the world.

She could not answer him… not knowing what sort of comfort that she could give him when she could not save him…

His eyes slowly closed, lost in the gentle touch. Slowly his grip on her arm loosened and fell to the side as his breath slowed to the point she knew he was asleep.

“Good night Erik… I hope you sleep well…” she whispered, but did not pull her hand away from him. With his eyes closed… she could not see him… but she remained awake for some time… simply looking ahead into the darkness to where she knew he was before she too succumbed to the world of dreams.

[jj-lynn21]

Ch 1 When we were just a little Lass and Lad

This story came from an idea @grandpa-sweaters had from a picture of Gustaf Skarsgard looking like he could play Bert from Mary Poppins. I very much agree.  

Ch 2 destination cloud 9

ch 3 Somewhere on Cloud 9

Ch 4 where ever the magic may take us

ch 5 The End is just the Start of a New Beginning

Warning: Just a bunch of whimsical fluff to start off.

Ch 1 When we were just a little Lass and Lad

It has been a while since you have believed in magic, has it not? I bet it has. But somewhere deep down you still feel that sense of whimsical energy you had as a child. Let that child-like curiosity follow me in to the Long Ago. You might say, “but the long ago is a time, not a place Ms.”

I assure you it is a place. A wondrous place where any wonderful thing starts. A wonderful thing like my beginning. You may have heard of me in some story that probably exaggerated some of the times I helped the Banks family, my family. I am Mary Poppins. And I shall explain everything.

Where to start, where to start? Oh yes, a long time ago where many things of a whimsical nature start. I was more created than just born as most creatures are, I suppose. The first daughter of the land to magical enough parents who taught me not everyone would appreciate my perfectly positive personality. Half the time they could not understand my cheery disposition.

When it rained, I was happy the flowers, trees, and other plants were getting the drink they craved. Plus playing in puddles was quite a fun time even in your most fantastical dress. When the sun was too hot for some, I was happy to let it tan my porcelain skin to the golden color of bronze. Of course, I was liberal on the sunscreen on the daily. All the seasons and all the weather just nourished our little place in the universe.

I very much annoyed some people but not Bert Alfred. Oh, he can inspire a whimsical song out of anyone. Happy-go-lucky, satisfied, charming, friendly, kind, imaginative, energetic, funny, zany, easy-going, artistic, intelligent, insightful, optimistic, empathetic, endearing, heroic and I need to take a breath. He is my everything. Oh Bert, always my first love although my parents insisted it was of the puppy variety. I suppose it was the fact our talents complemented each other so well.

Bert was able to do anything really. A unique Jack of all trades. But we fell in love in his chalk drawing. Even as children when we met on my stoop while our parents discussed whatever whimsical notions, I was intrigued by his chalk drawings full of more than they appeared. At least when I came around. They did fret the first time we ventured into the unknown.

Flashback

“Hi,” A shy precocious eight-year-old Bert smiled sitting beside Mary.

A seven-year-old Mary giggled, “hello, I’m Mary. And you are Sir?”

He takes out a small box of colored chalk from the pocket in his button-up shirt. “I’m Bert,” he tittered before kneeling on the sidewalk starting to create a scene. He thought her white dress and parasol was cute but he was to shy to tell her.

Mary kneels beside him watching his every stroke. “Oh, I do enjoy the circus. Have you ever really been? Uncle Albert took me to one once.”

Bert shook his head no, as he continued to add a red and white tent behind the lion on a pedestal with the tamer close by urging the lion to sit pretty. He stood when he was finished moving his closed mouth back and forth in contemplation. He looked to his new friend Mary, “Would you want to go with me?”

“Oh dear Bert, could we?” She smiled excitedly. “When shall we go? Will your parents take us or will mine? Will they even say yes?...”

He laughed, “You sure do talk a lot, Mary.”

She stuck her tongue out at him, “I certainly do not. I am practically perfect in every way. Just ask my parents.”

Bert chuckled, “I’ll take your word, Mary. We can go right now. All we have to do is…” He looks down at the drawing. “Hold my hand.”

Mary takes his hand in amazement and wonder.

“You think, you wink, do a double blink, you close your eyes and jump.” Bert and Mary jump on the painting and giggle loudly.

The adults look out the window at them and laugh. They are so glad their children are having a whimsical time together. They go back to planning the every few centuries excursion to London. You must be an adult to go on these adventures so the children will be entrusted to take care of each other. Which they have always done in Long Ago. The majority of the caretaking done by the ones more closely to adulthood.

Mary straightens and looks to see if anyone is watching, I guess if we are not gone for long, I will show you how its done dear Bert. My Aunt Iris showed me but said we must keep it secret. Can you keep a secret Bert?”

He nodded yes, “My Aunt Tilly was the one that took me on my first adventure. I must have done something wrong.”

“No silly,” Mary giggled. “It is just a girl thing. Now take my hand. Its off to the circus we go. One, two…three.”

They jump into the chalk drawing. The lion roars and they run behind the tamer that is drawn like the cartoon character Goofy and acts like him also.

“By garsh, are you young ones alright,” He asked scratching his head since he didn’t see them there a second ago. “Whoa, there Mr. Lion. We have guests you see.”

The lion bows to them with a smile of acceptance.

The tamer walks over and pats him on the head, “good boy. How about some lunch.”

The lion nods full mane rustling enthusiastically.

“I’m Flaky Frank.” He bows to the kids cordially. “We have popcorn, hotdogs and cotton candy in the tent. And the big show is about to start if you two would like to like to join?”

As they walk into the tent a rhinoceros in a colorful suit is at a small booth, “Tickets for the show, get your tickets. Show starts in five minutes.”

“I’m Mary and my friend is Bert,” She said politely. “We would like two tickets please?”

“Sure thing, Lass and Lad.” He smiles. “And where are your guardians on this most auspicious occasion.”

“I am his guardian and he is mine, so we both have a great guardian you see,” She answered proudly.

“I see,” he nods and gives them tickets. “Better get a seat. It is about to fill up quickly.”

As soon as they sit balancing popcorn between their legs, cotton candy in one hand, and a hotdog in the other, the other seats in the bleachers do fill up quickly as in immediately with a variety of characters. Lions, tigers, bears, elephants, trapeze artists and tightrope walkers entertained, and everyone clapped. As the kids walked out of the tent thunderstruck. The rain started dripping. Then it started pouring.

“Grab my hand Bert,” Mary held her hand out to him.

Bert took her hand. Then he came nearer hugging her protectively. As they held each other shivering in the rain they were back in front of her home. The rain pours, lightning struck, thunder roared, and they were surrounded by their parents and other adults from The Long Ago.

End flashback

But soon it was forgotten by all but me and Bert. Bert just got more handsome as we grew up together. He was very popular dating many women including Mavis, Sybil, Prudence, and Gwendolyn to my chagrin. 

But being practically perfect in every way I ignored my feelings that some might have considered jealousy.  All the while I kept my eye on that silly boy, for his own good of course. It had nothing at all to do with his growth spurt and chest that looked like a nice place to rest your head on a summer’s eve. 

Flashback

As she prepared to head home she thought, That boy is just plane…

“Hey, Mary.” He acknowledged as he exited the college library seeing her astride her pink bicycle with her basket full of fairytales.

[taciturnescapist]

Uno was pretty much determined to actually make sure that nothing ruined his holiday this year. Christmas was a big deal for him, and really one of the ways in which he could really shine as his extroverted self.

It was decided two days before Christmas Eve near unanimously with even Rock, and Nico in agreement that Jyugo wasn't going to get a chance to get in trouble like the year before. This was how Christmas Eve was currently being spent- the three alternating taking turns making sure that the escapist didn't make a getaway.

The three were busy taking shifts in between their own preparations for the upcoming holiday to occupy Jyugo's time and energy.

"I don't see why you won't let me break out." The escape artist said rather indifferently as he sat with his legs crossed.

"We're not missing Christmas!" Uno said with a growling undertone.

"Alright then.." Jyugo would take Uno at that, and do his best to behave despite the nervous energy that threatened to rack his body.

The plan was going pretty well so far. Rock and Nico had taken to recognizing the stripes wearing inmate for his usual antics, and without them playing along and actually blocking his getaways from the cell things were going rather smoothly.

"Put me down!" Jyugo had yelled at one point as Rock had gone right outside of the cell door behind him to collect him. "This is cruel and unusual punishment!"

"Jyugo, buddy?" Once Jyugo was down on the floor again of their cell Uno had approached. "Stay put." He said calmly before returning to the task of hanging red ribboned bows around wherever he thought it was appropriate. He really wanted their cell to be festive for the next day, but Jyugo was presenting quite an irritating road block for everyone.

It was like attending to a child the gambler thought. No, scratch that kids actually got excited at the idea of Christmas.

With his break out attempts all but foiled, Jyugo had no other choice, but to actually go along with what his cellmates were doing. By the day Christmas Eve had rolled around however the pent up energy of having his friends stop him at each turn had taken a toll on the escapist.

Somewhere between the caroling that Uno insisted upon and the gingerbread house that Rock was to excited to assemble, Jyugo had finally seemed to resign himself to his fate.

Uno took the opportunity to look from what Rock and Nico were doing in constructing the house (that from the looks of it would give someone a cavity just from looking at it) and go sit with Jyugo whom looked really bored by now. Nico was occupying himself with assisting Rock in between watching the Christmas themed anime special on tv.

"What's on your mind, Jyugo?" The braided blond asked as he went to sit down next to Jyugo in the corner where the raven-haired male just seemed to be watching everything.

"I'm just thinking.. I don't want to be a buzz kill for everyone when it comes to this holiday business." He had promptly backed away from the gingerbread making already wondering what disaster he could bring to it. Nico's love for the Christmas specials weren't his cup of tea either.

"First off, you aren't a buzz kill, second we want to include you because it's more fun that way." Uno had replaced his trademark blue and white striped cap for a red cap with white fur lining- the typical Santa hat.

"You've been behaving too." Uno said with a grin, though the blond thought that Jyugo probably had little choice in the matter, and was humoring the group more than anything.

Earlier in the day, Rock had finally gotten annoyed with Jyugo trying to leave the cell after the third or fourth time, and grabbing the leftover red ribbon that they had decorated the cell with, had proceeded to promptly tie his hands together. It really served as a deterrent for Jyugo, but more for the reason that his fight loving friend had done it completely throwing Jyugo off guard.

Jyugo was finding it difficult to break free with all of the knots that Rock had laced along and underneath his shackles. To make matters worse, the mohawked inmate had then pushed him towards Uno with a mutter of Merry Christmas.

"That's not like you at all." Uno followed up with a playful pout as he puffed his cheeks a bit.

Making sure that a certain purple-haired cellmate wasn't listening in, Jyugo sighed. "I might have been thinking about something else.." Mainly about Rock's actions earlier.

"Such as?" Uno asked with a blink.

"Why Rock did.. well.." Jyugo held up his festooned and bound hands for a better example. "Why he tied me up with ribbon?"

"Well, you can't escape from it can you?" Uno was sure that the escape artist could escape rather easily once he understood what he had to deal with, but right now Jyugo was confused by all of it. It was actually kind of adorable, honestly.

However, Uno never turned away from an opportunity to fluster the lockpick happy male. "That's simple, it's because you're my present." He said complete with a wink and a grin that really placed some of the more prominent canines on display.

Uno could easily confuse Jyugo at times, and this was one of them. "Heh, there are no exchanges I hope you know." He said rather cockily as he stared down at Jyugo's wrapped, and bound hands.

The gears in Uno's mind were already beginning to turn around as he registered that sudden impression of instinct that was his intuition having a sudden bright idea.

"Hey, Jyugo, once it's lights out, how about you and I sneak out for a bit?" He was approaching the subject carefully, but he wasn't even sure if Jyugo could still even pick a lock, let alone a puzzle.

As he was thinking that, Jyugo had picked up the Rubik's cube, and was proving him wrong by twisting the sides around and proceeding to match the colors with an ease that the gambler was envious of. He needed some way to work off the urge to go explore around the halls, Uno mused.

Yet, for once Uno was glad that Rock may have accidentally stumbled on a way to occupy Jyugo long enough that he couldn't easily break free from the bindings that were holding him. It was giving the gambler ideas, and hope that he may be able to succeed with the ribbon where the pair of handcuffs had failed.

"Why not? I'm going stir crazy the past few days of not being able to break out." Jyugo told him in reply, but wasn't aware of the permission he had put into play regarding his blond friend. He would soon enough.

----

Once it was time for all of the lights to go out, and Nico was more than satisfied with the excuse that Hajime had given them about how Santa would be making a drop off at the Warden's headquarters, everyone settled down after laying out the futons.

Everyone that is save for Uno, who still had yet to even begin his evening beauty care regimen or even brushing his hair out of the waves that the braid often created in it.

The blond was waiting for the cue for when they could both make their move to escape from the 13th cell when he heard the click as Jyugo managed to open the cell door with the usual skills he displayed.

"The only one on shift tonight is Seitarou." Jyugo said before stepping out into the dimly lit halls of the bloc of Building Thirteen.

Uno wasted little time in following the dark-haired male out into the surrounding dark of the prison at night. "Come on," He said grabbing hold of Jyugo's hand in an attempt to pull him along, but now the escapist was choosing now to stall on the gambler.

"Where are you heading?" Jyugo wanted to know as he placed up slight resistance each step of the way, until eventually he just resigned himself to going along with Uno, and whatever it was the excited blond had in mind.

"Don't ask so many questions, and just live a little, buddy." Uno told Jyugo as he headed for the area where Mitsuru had mentioned about there being a spare office that they hardly used except for storage of spare supplies and furniture.

Uno of course had already visited on one of their earlier breakouts, and being satisfied with his findings had committed it to memory thinking that they could all duck in there while running from Hajime some time in the future.

Yet, he had also kept the empty office in mind when it came to hiding the gifts he had ordered for everyone, and as the mail had arrived, he had stored the packages one by one in a sort of cache, and taken the opportunity to slip away from the group a few times to arrange things to his liking.

"Uno, if you are going to try and gift me those handcuffs again, so help me.." Jyugo said seriously as Uno had covered his eyes with his hands, and was now slowly pushing Jyugo along down the lone empty hall.

He was aware when they came to a complete stop, and only listened as Uno had opened what sounded like a door. They must have made it to their destination, already.

Once inside the room a finger with a blue nail flipped the light switch causing the room to light up as Uno shut the door behind him.

"No one said anything about that. You're the one with a gutter mind, currently." The blond said as he moved over to a corner and started dragging out a few wrapped packages, complete with bows made from the same ribbon currently keeping Jyugo a little preoccupied.

Jyugo stared before sitting down on the floor, crossing his legs lazily. "I just know that you kept barking up that tree." He said cockily as he was joined by the extroverted gambler who had laid the assortment of gifts out in a neat pile much like if they were cards being cut instead.

"I'll look over that comment." Uno said before nudging a gift in red wrapping towards Jyugo. The action made Jyugo think of an excited child, and even think that Uno could be oddly cute in his own ways.

'Wait, no he isn't. Stop thinking that.' The lockpick told himself countering his own thoughts.

He wouldn't waste anymore time as Uno was waiting expectantly for him to start unwrapping the gifts that he had presented before him.

He had a little difficulty with unwrapping a package at first, but soon had the red wrapping paper off. Jyugo's eyes widened at first before a smile formed on his features. It was one of the various items that Uno had declared as 'junk' and had refused point blank to order for him.

"I'm surprised you actually ordered it." Jyugo said as he looked at the box of plastic chopsticks. He had wanted them for whatever reason in the past, but now the reason was a little blurry in his memory.

Jyugo quickly made work of the other packages, and blinked at a small box that contained a new pair of silver hoops once opened. Another contained a blue and white cap similar to Uno's.

"I thought you could use a new pair, and the cap is so you'll stop stealing mine so much." Uno said while searching for any tells that gave away how the escapist was feeling. He got it with the smile that formed on Jyugo's features, and then the subtle blush on his cheeks. The biggest tell was in Jyugo's voice; how it cracked slightly as he mumbled a thank you.

Who knew that giving him one of his old caps from the prison uniform would make Jyugo that happy?

"I don't have anything to give you in return.." Jyugo said as he stared down at the floor in front of both of them.

His words were interrupted as Uno tipped his chin upward so the gambler could get a glance at the eyes he found so pretty to look at. "I don't need a present, Jyugo, you are my present." The gambler said with emphasis added in the words before he leaned forward to brush his lips against the other males. Things had worked out better than Uno thought they would.

[az-valentine]

Entry 1: Pennywise [AU]

July 2nd, 2018 

In light of recent events – the nature of which I refuse to explain to people who simply couldn't understand – I've been inspired to record a few passages for Humanity to eventually stumble upon. Despite what you may know about me, however little that may be, I assure you, there is far more to me than what meets the eye. You probably know me to be an unpredictable, animalistic Eldritch Abomination that comes crawling out of the darkest pits of your worst nightmares – you are correct. However, I'm far more complicated than that. Yes, I eat flesh and feed on Fear, as it's necessary for my survival. I didn't choose to be this way, it's just how I was created to be. 

Outside of that, I'm actually a fan of your classic literature, like Shakespeare, Twain, Poe, and Lovecraft. I also enjoy taking long walks to admire your older European architecture, and your bigger, more lush and diverse botanical gardens. I don't often leave Maine, let alone the Continental United States, but when I do, it's always a treat. My Eldritch Brethren usually don't care much – or at all – about what Humanity has accomplished in its pathetically short time, but I watched your earliest ancestors crawl out of the ancient muds of this planet, and I'm positive I'll watch you all return to the weeds in due time. 

My past is better left being known only by those closest to me, and left up for interpretation to everyone else. That being said, I feel strangely obligated to offer you a word of warning – don't end up like the protagonists of most Lovecraft stories. Don't go digging for information you have no business knowing. What you know, and what you think you know about Fear, hardly even scratches the surface of the unnamable terrors that lie beneath and beyond your fragile mental barriers. The depths of Madness are not meant to be explored by Mortal minds, for they were never designed to be capable of handling the journey. 

Some have tried, and nearly all have ended up a writhing, unintelligible, gibbering mess before their inevitable, horrific deaths. Some have wound up on that Path without even intending to, and fell victim to similar fates. If there's one thing we have in common, it's our tendency to be curious creatures. I definitely understand the desire to learn about the unknown. I cannot stop you from attempting to uncover lost knowledge and hidden truths, and I can't honestly say I care whether or not you listen to me. However, I still feel compelled to advise against it. Like me, though, you'll do what you please, regardless of the risks. 

Moving forward, those of you that know of me know me to be a Shifter, a being that is capable of taking the form of whatever I want. I'm like a Mimic, but far more interesting, and intelligent. I'm also like Nyarlathotep, the Crawling Chaos, except I take no pleasure in gaining legions of followers and spreading Madness. I prefer to be left alone most of the time – to Hunt, eat, sleep, and explore as I choose. Earth isn't the only planet I've been to, but it's definitely one of my favorites. If I wake up during one of my sleep cycles, I'll sometimes take that opportunity to go somewhere new and different, or old and familiar. 

I've seen everything from the bustling cities of Tokyo and Arcturus Prime, to the noxious swamps of Beldron 4, the scorching, temple and monolith-spotted deserts of Alkh'tktuuhl, the ravenous raggle-trees of Nillub, and even the turbulent oceans, black forests, and numerous mountain ranges of an unknown terrestrial behemoth, floating aimlessly through the inky depths of Oblivion. One thing most don't know about me, is that Alkh'tkhtuuhl holds a very special place in my Heart. Those that know the reason why, though, I can count on one hand. 

Unbeknownst to Humanity, Arcturus Prime is still thriving to this day – and if rumors hold true, the Arcturians eventually want to introduce themselves. Don't worry, they're incredibly friendly. In my experiences with them, they're often a little shy, so don't do anything stupid when they get here. You'll need their help if you want your species to survive, thrive, and save the only planet you currently have to live on. They'll slowly work you into the galactic community, and help you learn how to integrate with other people from other planets, as well as how to survive off of your home world. 

Everyone that lives long enough will go through a Great Change at certain points in their lives – this trait is not unique to Humans, or any other Mortal species within the Multiverse, but is present among all sentient Life that has evolved far enough to be capable of experiencing these changes. Even I, the Prince of Fear, have gone through it several times throughout my existence. Indeed, many see me as just a highly intelligent, impossibly powerful beast that's merely good at acting, but I too am a person. 

I am not at liberty to speak of my true origins, or what came before, but I do have quite a few stories I'm allowed to tell. For the sake of brevity – I could write an entire series about my life – I will stick to telling only a few tales that I hold near and dear to my Heart. It's not every day a Mortal gets to learn such personal things about an Eldritch Being, let alone directly from them, so consider this a little gift to Humanity. I still take what I need to sustain myself, but who would I be if I didn't give back every now and then? 

Don't think of me as just a monster – I may be greater than anything a Human could ever hope to become, and I may have needs that cause a conflict of Morality between us, but it doesn't mean we don't share similarities. I don't know why I feel the need to say it, but just like you, I have my weaknesses. I have sore spots, bad memories, times of self-destruction, and an unhealthy relationship with self-hatred. Oh, yes...I can be as vulnerable as the Mortals whose lives I claim. It's not all bad, though. As I stated earlier, some of my guilty pleasures include literature, architecture, and traveling. I also enjoy attending plays, Broadway shows, and operas. At heart, I am an artist, and someone who appreciates the natural beauty to be found spread out across the Universe. 

In fact, for as long as I can remember, I've always taken part in the various cultures' Arts in some way or another. My numerous homes have always had a collection of writings, paintings, and props found in certain visual productions that had struck my fancy. I would occasionally write my own works, such as poetry and prose, plays, and even some music, and then offer it to Yog-Sothoth for his Archives. On top of that, I would often disguise myself as a native of a planet, and audition to play a role in something – not once was I turned down. Who was the best Carmen? Me. The greatest Figaro? Me! 

By now, you must be perfectly aware of the sizeable amount of differences between me, and the Being you've always known me to be. There is an explanation for this, yes, but I struggle to believe that you could fully comprehend what I'm about to describe. If I only lay out the basics for you, there's a good chance you'll be able to follow along. I've made mention of the Multiverse, yes? It's bigger, stranger, more complex, and more terrifying than you may have previously believed it to be. Infinities on top of Infinities, spanning in Infinite directions, through every Dimension, and every conceivable and inconceivable possibility happening all at once, at all possible times. It's a lot to take in, and I urge you not to try and understand it completely. It'll just drive you Insane, like many others before you. 

Back to the point at hand, though...I am not the same Pennywise you've known, as I'm from a different Universe. Who I am, as well as my Past, Present, and Future, have been and always will be completely different from the version of me you're familiar with. I've mastered the Art of Transcending Time and Space, and am able to move freely between Universes. The conditions of my state of existence, though, must remain a closely guarded secret for the time being. Let's just say that I've made promises I can't afford to break, to someone that makes me look tiny, powerless, and insignificant by comparison. 

Perhaps "completely different" was a poor choice of words. If I'm not careful, I'll become the Thing born of your worst nightmares. What's worse? I could get stuck like that, and require another Purification to set me straight. Yes, a Purification...something that all of the Dark and Twisted Souls must be willing to subject themselves to if they wish to enter the Light. Ugh! I shudder to think about going through such a painful experience for a second time. The agony is only temporary, and it melts away into a warm tingle, but it's still horribly unpleasant at first. I won't try to sway you one way or the other, but it was worth it for me. I was fine doing my own thing, and being by myself, but the opportunity was too great to pass up. 

I'd rather not get into the details of the situation, but I regained something I'd lost billions of years ago, only because I chose to go through the process of Great Change. I haven't been happy in billions of years, but I am now, and I'm never giving this up. To be perfectly honest, I only went through this change last October, and so I'm still adjusting to this new Way of Life I've chosen. I may or may not have snacked on a child recently...don't look at me like that, I was starving! And without a long sleep to fall back on anymore, I must feed at least once a week now, depending on the size of the person. 

I wouldn't worry too much if I were you. I've been targeting only the worst of the worst, so as long as you're not a piece of shit person, one worthy of being scared to the point of shitting yourself and then getting eaten alive, you have nothing to Fear from me. Except maybe the occasional scare for my amusement, and to satisfy my need for Fear. 

 July 3rd, 2018 

This entry has already gotten long, and I'm afraid I've run out of Time to tell you a story. Forgive me, I didn't think my introduction would wind up being so long. I'm afraid I have some bad news...I'm set to depart on a series of Hunts for the next three to seven months, and I'm unsure of when I'll be able to continue. This was sprung upon me at the last minute, and I'm in no position to decline this mission. 

Know this, Humanity: I will return, and in no less than excellent health. Chances are, I won't be hungry when I finally make it back. However, don't think for a moment that I won't continue to Hunt the scum of your societies, one by one...both to fulfill my needs for survival, and to make good on my Sacred Oath. 

 Until next Time, 

                  Pennywise 

[emilywoodsunit34]

EVALUATION

The requirements of the brief were to understand how image manipulation techniques are used in the work of others, be able to digitise source materials, be able to originate work using image manipulation hardware and software and be able to present own design outcomes. There was also to understand the potential of digital media in contemporary art and design practice, be able to select materials for digital experimentation, be able to produce work using digital art and design techniques.

We had to either redesign a book cover or turn a movie into a book cover. I Decided to do The Purge. We had to use some photography in our work however it was a creative piece and we had to manipulate the work to make it indistinguishable as a photograph in the end. Task 1 was to create a Tumblr and start researching. We began with Erik Johansson and had to outline his process and how he created his work. We then had to research 2 more artists of our choice and I chose Luisa Azevedo and Chema Madoz because I thought their work was very interesting and intricate. Next, we had to find multiple examples of different and intriguing digital illustration that have used photography in their work.  I found 3 I loved and explained why I chose them on my Tumblr. One of the last things was to experiment with photoshop techniques and I looked on Youtube for this and found examples on how to create fire and text on photoshop and also turn everything cartoon. Lastly, we had to create a small 200 word paragraph and explain how photoshop can help in the creation of art.

Task 2 of the brief was to show evidence and ideas generation which I did in a small sketch book and took photos with my phone and uploaded them onto my Tumblr. I then had to write a proposal with 400 words to explain what I was going to do and why. I personally didn't do a final small sketch with an outcome because to be completely honest I didn't know what I was going to do until it was done. I then finally did a diary entry that was updating what I was going so far and what I wanted to continue doing and what was working.

Task 3 was then just basically creating my final piece and taking screenshots of what I had achieved so far along with sending my final piece for marking. Lastly, we had to create a final diary entry however I am going to include this in my evaluation as I am going to explain how and why I did it.

The creative process I followed was just one big learning curve on how to create things. I wanted to experiment as much as possible so I did a lot of techniques and if they worked with my image I added them in. To create some of my ideas I decided to do a small mind map inside my sketch book and put different ideas on their along with potential options for other book covers. I took inspiration from having a quick look at the movie posters and also from older book covers as I wanted to keep it very simple and effective. The only planning I only really took was creating some mind maps before hand and viewing youtube videos to learn how to create new photoshop techniques. Some new techniques I learnt were how to create fire from nothing and also how to create something a cartoon.

Personally I didn't have a specific meaning for my photoshop final piece I just wanted to use this opportunity for myself to learn new techniques and create something I created myself. To create it I started with a photoshoot of the person of choice including the masks. I didn't do a huge photoshoot as I knew the basic style I wanted to shoot. Once this was done I went to photoshop and opened up my final image. once this was done I edited the shadows and highlights to bring the image out a lot more including the contrast so the image wasn't so flat. I started with just this to begin with as I wasn't too sure what I was going to create. It was at this point I chose I wanted to make it more of a cartoon; I then went onto youtube to learn how to create it. Firstly I opened my image onto photoshop and then copied it onto a new layer then made it invisible by clicking the eye next to it. Next, I went onto the background layer and converted it to a smart object by right clicking and then clicked the selected option, this was so any affect can be separated easily. I then went onto ‘filter’, ‘filter gallery’ and then onto ‘artistic’ and finally ‘poster edges’. I set the edge thickness to 0, the edge intensity to 4 and posterisation to 1. After that I went onto the filter option next to the effect and changed the opacity to 75%, then I went back onto filter gallery and then chose the ‘cutout’ filter. I made the number of levels 6, the edge simplicity 4 and then edge fidelity 2. After applying the effect I double clicked on the same icon and made it 75% again. For another time I went back onto filter and chose pixelate, colour halftone, made the maximum radius 4, and made all 4 channels 45. This created a dotted effect however once again I double clicked and made the opacity 75% but changed the blend mode from ‘normal’ to ‘soft light’. Once this was all done I made the first layer visible again by pressing the eye icon next to the image and chose ‘glowing edges’ from the ‘stylise’ folder. I made the edge width 1, edge brightness 3 and then smoothness 15. For the last time I went to filter gallery, sketch, and then torn edges with the image balance 4, smoothness 15 and the contrast 12. Above all of this there is a drop down arrow and I then changed this to ‘overlay’ which overlaid the images together and merged them nicely and changed the opacity to 40%.

Overall I am very happy with how the editing came out. To create the fire I first got opened a new page in photoshop and made the background black. Using the pen tool I made a random shape using 4 point creating a very simple flame like shape. Once this was done I went onto ‘filter’, ‘render’ and then ‘flame’. I then chose the first option ‘one flame along path’ and then it made a flame. I then copied it onto my actual image and used control + J to make copies and dot them around the page also making new flames so it wasn't too consistent.

For the text I couldn't manage to find any text or any way to create the same effect from scratch on photoshop and therefore I used the pen tool to cut out the actual Purge text and copied it onto the cover. 

I am personally very satisfied with my final piece because although I think it could look a lot more professional I am happy that I learnt how to do many new things and think for the first time doing them they turned out really well. My aim was to teach myself new things and although I had less time to do this assignment than others I think I learnt the most in this one. My strength was learning and teaching myself new things and my weakness was that it was my first time doing a lot of these things on photoshop and therefore they may look a little bit amateurish. If I was to do this project again I would maybe plan it out a bit more better and give everything a certain time so I can get certain bits done in certain times instead of winging it.

[fy-soukoku]

Random Soukoku prompt: Holding hands under the table ♡

The first time it happens, he can’t stop shaking.

The first meeting Chuuya has been in since using Corruption for the first time, since he rose in the sky and tore his enemies apart limb by limb. Mori is congratulating the mafia on the discovery of a new, valuable weapon for their organization, while Kouyou watches with a piercing gaze, rubbing her hand over her protege’s back.

Dazai tries to focus on the meeting, but all he can see in the corner of his eyes is the shaking form of Chuuya, so delicate and breakable even though he is still streaked with blood. But what really catches his attention are his eyes - glassy, soft, framed by dark red lashes. Dazai knows that Chuuya had a very different future ahead of him before his abilities were discovered - but of course, what other future would there be for a boy with such a pretty face and those gentle blue eyes? He wasn’t cut out for this life, Dazai knew that too well. He was too soft, too kind, too gentle to handle a life that would paint his fingers black, stain them with crimson blood that got stuck in your clothes no matter how much bleach you rubbed on them. (And Dazai had tried, but at this point it was in his veins.)

Kouyou’s hand stops massaging his back in careful motions when Mori makes the suggestion that Chuuya officially join the Mafia. She rises, a wave of fury emitting from every pore, and protests against it, claiming that he’s too young to be exposed to such violence.

“He did just create that violence.” Dazai points out, and finds himself under the woman’s scrutinizing gaze. Next to him, Chuuya grabs her by the sleeve, tugging with pale fingers that shine against the pink of her kimono.

“Please, nee-san.” He says, “It’s a better future than I had planned.”

Kouyou’s eyes soften at the boy’s words, and she lets herself sit, gesturing at Mori to continue.

Dazai watches Chuuya from the corner of his eye. He’s watching the interaction, but not adding anything. Observing, absorbing, studying. His blue eyes flit to every new source of sound, as if terrified to miss anything.

He’s smarter than I thought, Dazai thinks. He knows pitching in will do no good.

Not for the first time, Dazai wonders where this kid came from.

What does worry him, however, is that Chuuya continues to pick at his fingernails. They’re well-trimmed, as Kouyou has probably ensured, and filed to an appropriate length. But there’s the dark traces of dried blood glued to the bottom, which Chuuya continues to pick at, scratching the surface of his skin with such ferocity that it’s sure to begin bleeding again. Dazai reaches forward, and grabs his hand, yanking it down, under the table. He doesn’t know why, but the idea of Chuuya being in more pain makes him uncomfortable.

“You’ll hurt yourself more.” He murmurs in explanation, though he does allow Chuuya to turn his palm up and press the pad of their hands together.

Gradually, Chuuya relaxes.

—-

While Dazai has his own talents, things that make him irreplaceable within the dynamics of the Port Mafia, it’s fairly obvious that fighting is not his strong suit.

With a quick mind, a silver tongue, and well-developed reflexes, Dazai tends to avoid conflicts. It’s easier that way, he has found, than doing something as pointless as throwing fists to see who went the hardest. There were other people to do that. Besides, nobody looked good smashing someone’s face into a wall.

Except Chuuya apparently.

Dazai wasn’t expecting the delicate redhead with baby doll eyes to be able to smash someone’s skull in without his ability, but even at sixteen, Chuuya is proving to be one of the best martial artists in the Mafia.

He looks born for it - sculpted from clay and forged in fires to fight. When he lands a kick, there’s a dangerous flickering in his eyes, a spark of pride that lights up the whole room. When he knocks someone to the ground his lips curl up in a satisfied smile, pressing the heel of his boot to their neck.

Dazai walks out into the training room, where Tachihara is gripping his side and grimacing. Chuuya leans down, splays out a hand for him to hold.

“Sorry. I should have been more gentle.” Chuuya smiles, and Tachihara’s hazel eyes soften, a glint in his eyes showing his affection all too clear. Either Chuuya is more oblivious than Dazai thought, or he’s just that concerned about other people’s feelings, because he seems to take Tachihara’s lingering gaze as a symbol of friendship.

“Can I talk to Chuuya, Tachihara-kun?” Dazai flashes the redhead a smile as he stabilizes his stance, watches his eyes widen in fear.

“O-of course!” Tachihara nodded, and bowed to Chuuya. “Thank you for sparring with me , Chuuya-san!”

“Absolutely!” Chuuya responds, and watches the boy run out the door. He turns back to watch Dazai. “What did you need?”

His gaze is too trusting, it almost worries Dazai. He’s fairly certain Chuuya is the only member of the Mafia who looks at him like that, with no sign of hesitancy or distrust. Dazai reckons that he could ask Chuuya to jump off a cliff and the boy would do so. (Though his ability would probably prevent anything awful from happening.) Which simultaneously thrills and frustrates him.

“Fight me.” Dazai says, grinning.

“What?”

He tips his head, holds his hands out. “Fight me, Chuuya. I want first-hand experience of your legendary strength.” He drags out the syllables of the words, taunting him.

“Alright, but I’m not going easy on you.” Chuuya says, and throws the first punch.

Dazai steps to the side, watches Chuuya stumble past him. His hair falls in his eyes, he stares down at his fist, his eyes wide with shock.

“That was fast.” Chuuya mutters. “Very fast.”

“I’ve been watching you.” Dazai smirks. “I’ve been studying your fighting style. You’re very talented.”

Chuuya glares at him, “Are you mocking me?”

“Not at all.” Dazai says, reaching over and winding a strand of Chuuya’s hair around his finger.

“So, what, you wanted to see if you could dodge me.”

Dazai grins. His hand falls onto the dip of Chuuya’s collarbone, traces the shape with feathery touches. Chuuya reaches up, slides his hand to press against Dazai’s palm. His skin is sweaty from training all day, but Dazai can already feel callouses building up along his fingers, rough but soothing against his own.

Dazai squeezes his hand. “Sometimes I wonder if you can just read my mind.”

Chuuya shrugs. “Or maybe I just know you.”

They stand there, under dim lights, sweaty hands pressed against one another, and Dazai’s heart hammers because it’s true. And that’s a little terrifying.

—-

Their very first mission together ends with Chuuya curled on the road, arms around his knees, blood matting his hair to the side of his face.

Dazai steps among the rubble, tries not to watch Chuuya’s shaking form too carefully. He curls his hands into fists and sniffs at the subtle smoke that soaks in the air.

“Are you ready to go?” He asks. Chuuya sniffs, glares up at him, his cheeks covered in a trail of tears, his eyes pink from the smoke around them.

“Am I…” He shakes his head, rests his forehead in his hands. “I don’t know. Okay. I just killed people, Dazai. I just lost control and there was nothing I could do.”

Dazai nods. “Your ability will take some time getting used to-”

“What the hell do you mean by that!” Chuuya springs up, stumbling as he approaches Dazai. “I thought I told you that if it looked like I was going to kill somebody, than that you should stop me!”

Dazai crosses his arms. “Chuuya, we’re part of the Port Mafia. We kill. It’s our job.”

Chuuya stares at the dark gray gravel, where lines of rain seep into the cracks. His eyes are darker than usual, reflecting the cloudy sky.

“I can’t… I can’t kill people, Dazai.” Chuuya whispers at the ground, as if the worms will be able to hear and sympathize. “It… hurts when I do.”

Dazai doesn’t feel any empathy for him. He’s been killing since the tender age of nine, taught that in this world, it’s kill or be killed. Ending a life was as simple as snuffing out an unnecessary flame.

But this is hard for Chuuya, he thinks, as he watches the fragility of his pretty blue eyes glisten in the light. They could shatter and break - even though the holder is so fierce, so strong.

He reaches out his hand, and folds their fingers against each other. Chuuya freezes up.

“I know, Chuuya.” He murmurs, and runs his thumb over his cheek.

—-

They’re laying in bed, the moonlight is folding like origami on the ceiling, and Dazai can’t take his eyes off of Chuuya.

The redhead is angelic with his eyes closed, head tilted back against the clean pillow case. His hair is like a splatter of vibrant paint over white canvas. Dazai almost wants to wake him up to see the shiny sapphire blue of his eyes, but he also knows that Chuuya hasn’t been sleeping much.

Chuuya is curled up on his side, gauzy white button-up slung loosely over his frame. It’s on of Dazai’s, and the thought of Chuuya in his clothing sharpens a protective instinct he hadn’t known existed. And, with the redhead curled up in ball, his tiny nose crinkling as he dreams, Dazai feels more protective than ever - even in sleep, Chuuya is still pure.

Chuuya is pure in general, he thinks, remembering his idealistic views and his soft smiles to subordinates. He’s the kind of guy who helps old women across the street, and brings bowls of soup to the orphans who live along the streets. He’s the kind of guy who cries when someone innocent is murdered, but will not hesitate to snap the neck of anyone who hurts his family.

Dazai has never really felt these things. Old women don’t need his help, subordinates should be run by fear, and anyone who died brought it upon themselves. He thinks it’s the way Mori raised him. Maybe he’d be different if someone else had been in charge of him.

Either way, Chuuya looks like an angel right now, and Dazai can’t look away. He sometimes wonders if the heavens will realize they’ve accidentally cast such an amazing being into this world, and maybe one day they’ll take him away. Away from the filthy world. Away from Dazai.

He sighs, and reaches out a hand to fold around the limp arm laying by Chuuya’s side.

Clutching his hand, he vows to enjoy the time he has.

—

I’VE BEEN WRITING THIS FOR A WEEK AND I HATE IT BUT OH WELL I’M TIRED 

[stevesmith101990-blog]

Wall Hangings

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