#this drawing took like 8 hours. wild

[ocelotlesbian]

i made an infographic cuz i was sick of seeing them mixed up in fanart LMAO i hope this is educational ヽ(´ー｀)ノ

[frenchkisstheabyss]

♡ Ｓｗｅｅｔｅｓｔ Ｐｉｅ ♡

♡ Pairing: sex worker!mingyu x chubby!fem!sex worker!reader

♡ Genre: smut/fluff

♡ Word Count: 3.2k-ish

♡ Summary: While spending the weekend at a mansion in the Hollywood Hills, a risky late night comment of yours draws the attention of your crush who happens to be in the same city and wants to see if you're all talk or about that action.

♡ Warnings: you're both spicy content creators, drinking, unprotected sex, Gyu's dick is kinda really huge, size kink for sure, stretching, riding, rough sex, doggystyle, clit play, ass slapping, oral sex (m receiving), cum eating/swallowing, dirty talk, switch Gyu/reader

♡ A/N: I usually put a sweet artistic statement in this space but I don't have a sweet artistic statement. I have a hot girl playlist and Mingyu's existence which is exactly how we ended up here. It's Mingyu, for the love of goddess, can you blame me?

This was never where you thought you’d end up. When you joked with your best friend, a successful OnlyFans girl, about starting one if your job kept working your nerves you hadn’t imagined actually doing it. Yet here you are, 8 months after that tipsy girl’s night, with a hefty following on social media and enough subscribers to never have to set foot in that job ever again. 

Like any other job it has its ups and downs but having your best friend there to help you navigate it early on makes it feel like lightwork now. Plus it’s so easy to ignore your haters when your bank account’s as stacked as it is.

For the first time in your life it’s optional to check pricetags, you can literally have whatever you want. Some things you don’t even have to pay for, they’re just dropped in your lap simply because you are who you are. 

That’s precisely how you scored yourself a weekend at this million dollar home in the Hollywood Hills. You’d passively mentioned during a custom video for one of your fans how hot you found it that he owned so much property.

“I’ve never played with my pussy in a mansion before” you pouted cutely, a vibrator whirling away inside you on its lowest setting. It wasn’t hint dropping as much as you wanted to stroke his ego but he took it as a chance to impress you, offering you a getaway at one of his places while he went on vacation for business. 

You’d be doing him a favor, he insisted, because he hated to leave the place empty for so long. The ego boost was more than enough compensation on his part that he didn’t feel like you owed him anything. Good because as a rule you do not fuck customers. You don’t even do content with other people in your industry. Everything’s solo. Always.

“Show us the top but off” you giggle, reading through the comments on your Instagram live. You do a quick spin, showing off your barely there bikini top. “There it is but it’s not coming off. You guys are gonna get me banned.” 

You only arrived a few hours ago and, exhausted from travel, decided that you’d rather spend the night in the jacuzzi out back than venture out to some crowded bar. This weekend is about relaxation after all and what’s more relaxing than sipping champagne in this warm bubbling water under the starry night sky?

It began to feel a little lonely though, you’re so used to having your best friend with you on these trips, so you decided to prop your phone up on the edge of the hottub and go live for a little bit. 

Reading through the comments, you get caught up in conversation about a million random topics. There’s suggestions for the best restaurants in LA, debates over if aliens are real or not, and even a quick KPop Smash or Pass game before someone brings you to a topic that has your heart thumping harder than an EDM festival.

Your rule on sleeping with other creators is a hard “No”, this everyone already knows, but when it comes to one man in particular that rule’s nonexistent. 

100_karat_xo Gyu saw your retweet 👀 youngxkwonskitty He’s coming over here aaaaaah!!!

You nearly choke on your next sip of champagne, watching the chat go wild as the memory of a recent drunken retweet hits you like a wrecking ball.

Your introduction to who Kim Mingyu was had been innocent enough. You were scrolling your feed one night and saw a video of a bunch of guys dancing. They were just fucking around really but they were genuinely talented and hot as hell so you had to do a little independent research to figure out who they were. 

Mingyu was the one who caught your eye the most with his beautifully tanned skin and a face so gorgeous it hurts to look at. It only worsened the situation when you stumbled upon his spicy account and found out he had the deadly combo of a body Greek gods would envy and a cock that’d have you walking funny for days. Who needs to walk straight anyway? You followed him on everything immediately, nearly died when he followed you back, and it’s been non stop flirting since. 

The two of you even ran into each other at a few parties where things would almost get hot and heavy but never ventured beyond a cute little makeout session. It’s painfully obvious both of you want something more though.

The most recent evidence came when Mingyu posted a video of himself seated in a chair facing a mirror wearing nothing but a pair of gray sweatpants. No shirt, nothing under the pants, just that muscular sunkissed chest and a mouthwatering dick print. 

You were weak in the knees from the sight of that alone but when his hand started moving in his lap, his palm smoothing over the long, thick print, you went feral. Mingyu’s caption asked, “Who does this belong to?” and the shots of Soju in your system that night had you responding, “Me!” before you could think better of it. That was a week ago and you must’ve pushed it to the back of your mind because you haven’t thought about it since. But Mingyu has. 

“Coming over here? What do you mean?” you ask, slinking down into the water as if it’ll somehow make you invisible. You get your answer immediately when a familiar name appears in the chat. 

dongangu.daddy Hey beautiful

“Mingyu! Stop! What are you doing here?” you squeal, a hand thrown over your mouth to hide the uncontrollable smile his arrival brings to your face. As if there’s a way to conceal how giddy you are over this man. Two words from him and your whole aura changes. You were glowing before but now you’re radioactive.

jeonghanssimp95 my worlds collide omfg _horanghaeheaux_ Can you both marry me?

dongangu.daddy has requested to join

Your eyes widen at Mingyu’s request, not expecting to be put on the spot like this. It’s not that you don’t want to see him. You’d look at that face every day if you could—beside you, on top of you, under you—but you’re mortified of swooning over him in front of this many people. 

Finally deciding that your retweet did all it could do to expose you for being down bad for Mingyu, you dry your hands on a nearby towel and accept his request. Another screen pops up below yours. There’s some darkness at first, a few seconds of shuffling, and then Mingyu’s displayed in all of his bare chested glory. 

“Why do you look like you’ve seen a ghost?” he teases, shifting to a more comfortable position in bed. Of course he had to be shirtless. Of course he had to be in bed. Fuck your sanity. 

Your brain has to shake off a five second delay before you can answer. “You just got on and already you’re picking on me. I’m about to revoke your privileges, sir.”

Mingyu laughs off your comment, confident that you’re bluffing. You are. “No, don’t do that. I’m sorry” he pouts, raking his fingers through his short dark hair, “I just expected you to be happier to see me.”

“I am happy to see you but you can’t come on my live talking your shit.”

“I thought you liked it when I talk my shit” he smiles, recalling all of the X rated texts you’ve exchanged over the past few months. 

You shrug, mindlessly twirling your hair, “Talking is cute buuut actions are better.” 

The true meaning of “action” is clear for you both. Mingyu’s wanted action with you from day one, spam liking your posts the moment he saw that you followed him. You had the prettiest face, the sweetest smile, and your body was so soft and plush he couldn’t stop fantasizing about getting his hands on you. You were even more irresistible in person and that knowledge has had him on a mission to make you his ever since. A mission he’s not willing to give up on easily.

“Action? I can do that. I heard you’re in LA” he says, the white sheet around him falling away as he sits up in bed, “I am too. If you aren’t busy, maybe we could see each other tonight.”

“Oh, y-you wanna see me? And do what?” you stutter, going in for another nervous sip only to find that the glass is empty. You were not prepared to be this thirsty for a drink or for him. 

Mingyu tucks his bottom lip between his teeth, eyes flicking down to take in what he can of your figure peeking out from the water. His heart begins to race, his cock stiffening at the way your lush breasts bob above the surface, droplets of water decorating your cleavage like diamonds. 

“You tell me, babe. What do you wanna do?” 

His question soaks your bikini bottoms with a new type of moisture, your pulse already racing. What do you wanna do? With Kim Mingyu? What don’t you wanna do? 

“Gyu, aaah, fuck. It’s so…so…mmm” you whine, sinking lower onto Mingyu’s cock.

Your fingers trace his abs, your pink and blue ombre acrylics nicking his skin as your pussy relaxes to take the next inch of his cock. You’d seen it in pictures, even felt his bulge once or twice in person, but having him inside of you? Nothing could’ve prepared you for this stretch or for how full you’d feel after only a few inches. There’s still a couple more to go and you’re already shaking like you’re ready to cum. 

“Keep going, baby. You’re taking it so well” he praises, hands cradling your hips to help you take him at your own pace.

He isn’t in a rush to fuck you. That was never an intention of his. Mingyu’s more than pleased to lay here with you in bed, your fluffy thighs snug around his waist, and enjoy the view from below. And what a view it is. The faces you make are too cute for words. They make him want to hold you close and protect you from the rest of the world. At the same time, they’re the sexiest thing he’s ever seen. And, coupled with those little whines of yours, they give him the ravenous urge to fuck your brains out. Every last cell. 

“Don’t wanna wait anymore” you moan, leaning back with your arms behind you, palms resting on his legs. “I need it all.” 

He smooths his hands down your thighs and back up again, “Anything for you.” 

One thrust of his hips and you’re seeing stars. Mouth wide open. Eyes watering. It’s the fullest you’ve ever felt and you can only piece together a string of broken moans as your body adjusts to the new sensation. 

Mingyu smiles up at you, beaming with pride at what he’s done to you. “Too much for you?” he teases, his thumb stroking a solitary tear away from your cheek. 

You shake your head, never the kind of girl to reject a challenge. Breathing in deep, you steady yourself, raising your hips and slowly lowering them back down in a motion that has his eyes rolling to the back of his head. 

“Oh god, fuck” he groans not just at how perfectly your walls hug him and not just at you being wet enough to make that hottub outside look like the desert. Every move you make hits the perfect spot, your body titled at the exact angle required to make him feel like you’re stealing his soul straight from his body.

Keeping your pace, you lean forward and lick your way up his abs, sprinkling kisses across his chest. Mingyu can pretend that it doesn’t tickle in a way he likes much more than he thought he would but his body’s a dead giveaway. His muscles contract beneath your kisses, his length pulsing against your walls. You can almost hear his heart pounding through his chest. 

“Too much for you?” you taunt, smiling up at him, your walls purposefully clenching even tighter around his cock. 

Mingyu bites his lip, staring down at you like a meal he’s prepared to devour. The fire in his eyes makes your heart jump. Teasing him back has consequences and you can tell you’re about to suffer them. 

“Nah, I want more” he growls and two strong arms close around your body, one at your back and the other at your waist. Keeping you flush against his chest, he spreads his legs and buries himself even deeper into your needy core. If you thought you were seeing stars before, there's galaxies now. 

Mingyu holds you like he loves you, cradling you gently while he fucks you like he hates you, and with your arms pinned to your sides all you can do is take it. Waves of heat wash over your figure, the tingling of your nipples brushing his chest sending sparks through your system. There’s no talking back now, only fragments of his name rolling from your tongue. 

“M-min…” you whine, crumbling as the thick head of his cock bumps your sweet spot. You can feel his warm precum leaking into you, mixing with your arousal to make every movement all the smoother. 

“M-min” he coos, reaching a hand up to brush away the hair sticking to your pretty face, “Having a hard time talking back, sweetheart?”

Your eyes are hypnotizing on a regular day but he must admit that there’s something special about seeing them so dazed and glossed over all for him. He grabs the back of your neck with just the right amount of pressure, lifting you away from him enough that he shifts angles inside of you. It’s such a small change in position but it’s more than enough to have you squirming, mindlessly rocking your hips against his. 

“I didn’t know I had such a greedy girl on my hands” he says, tracing your jaw with feathery kisses. In a split second the room’s spinning on its head and you find yourself face down on the sheets with your arms held behind your back.

Mingyu slaps your ass and the sting gets you up on shaky knees. He doesn’t even need to tell you what he wants because you want it too. Teasing his cock at your entrance, he takes his time savoring the way that your juices drip all over him, your pussy already clenching in anticipation.

He runs the head along your slit, dipping it up to roll across that perky little clit of yours. He keeps you like this so long you’re drooling onto the pillow, clenching and dripping down his length and he isn’t even inside of you yet. 

Not one to be outdone, you drop your hips down, slipping him right up to your entrance. You sink back on him an inch or so, popping his head right inside of you. You hear a sharp inhale and feel his body give out on him for a second. You move your hips in a circular motion, teasing him with the sight of you stretching yourself open with his cock.

“I thought you said you wanted more” you giggle, shaking your ass in the cutest way. 

Mingyu slaps it again, gripping your hips, “So she can still speak. We gotta change that.”

He slams into you and you cry out at the force of his thrust. The aftershock has your body humming but there’s no time to soak it in. Mingyu doesn’t stop, doesn’t let up even a little bit. He’s feral for you. Already addicted to the feeling of you wrapped around him. 

Keeping your wrists pinned, he reaches around to massage your clit, and your knees almost give out. He catches you before you can collapse, keeping you right where he wants you. Gripping the pillow, you bite down hard, screaming as loud as you want into the soft cotton while he deep strokes you to the brink of insanity. 

It’s not long before a familiar feeling’s tugging at your stomach. You’re like a bottle of champagne, all shaken up and ready to pop. Mingyu rubs your bud faster, kissing the small of your back, “You gonna cum for me, baby? Hmm?”

Your body answers before your words can, jiggling in all the right places while you cum harder than you ever have. The clench and release of your walls as you gush down your own thighs drags him closer to his own high but he’s not ready yet. He has to keep thrusting into you, playing with your pussy until your body’s spent. 

For a moment it seems as if he’s achieved his goal. Reeling from your high, your whole body gives into the mattress and you’re stuck there, letting out the sweetest whines with his cock still inside of you. But that moment’s fleeting and in a few seconds you’re back up on your knees, whipping around to take his cock into your mouth. 

You don’t hesitate to take all of it into your mouth, not gagging once as you rub it against the back of your throat. If the gasps and moans coming from overhead are any indication, your tongue wrapped around his cock has him wrapped around your finger. You feel around blindly until you find his hands, intertwining your fingers with his. Your tongue traces the veins of his shaft, feeling the blood rush to the head throbbing at the back of your throat. 

The taste of your mixed arousal floods your senses as it drips from the corners of your perfectly pursed lips. You sneak a peek up at him. That gorgeous face. Those muscles dripping with sweat. His body jerks and you easily pick up on the signs, slipping him out of your mouth at the perfect time for him to cum all over your tongue and those plush, puffy lips. You take him into your hands, stroking him until you’ve gotten every last drop. Licking your lips clean, you kiss the tip and lay back in bed, bringing him down with you.

Mingyu cozies his head up to your belly, his chest heaving for air, “Where’d you learn to do it like that?”

“I don’t know, maybe I’m just gifted” you sigh, brushing your fingers through his hair. 

“Well, whatever you did, just know it’s yours now” he says, propping his chin up to gaze at you. 

“Mine? What’s mine?”

“I asked who this belonged to.  You said it’s yours. Unless you don’t want it…”

“No! No! No!” you scramble, your cheeks warming up again, “It’s mine! It’s mine! I’ll take it.”

Mingyu raises an eyebrow, using his last bit of energy to crawl on top of you, “You’ll take it again? So soon?”

He spreads your legs, dipping his fingers between your legs and you’re still dripping wet. He presses up against you and you giggle feeling how hard he still is.

“You did say it’s mine” you smile, legs wrapping around his waist, “So give it to me.”

[skekthesilly]

100th post!!!!

hi hello shows off my oc like a proud child because i am very proud of him look at him look at him look at him

he takes me so long to draw… 💔💔💔 but its worth it

images 3, 4, and 5 are outdated refs, image 2 is his simplified design i made recently, and image 1 is fire and also fun fact: it took me 8 HOURS TO MAKE. i need to make new refs,,,,,

anyways yeah!!!!!!!!!!!! this is pyrite. he is my silly billy pookie wookie bear and i made him and he is my oc and i love him very much and and and

thinking of making an ask blog about him so i can develop his character more and also reveal bits of lore along the way… note that his lore is not as silly dilly as he is

he has. so much fur. so unkempt. so messy. so.. so furry,,

bro is tall. so tall. large creature. all the better to cuddle with

patterns on his limbs are kinda inconsistent because i can’t remember what the look like exactly for the LIFE of me

i KNOW pyrite is supposed to be gold colored i KNOW that it’s not purply grey but listen. listen. one i dont really care all that much and two uhhhh he dirty. needs bath. hes literally a wild animal he needs a good scrub (LIFE OR BATH FOR DRY PYRITE)

fun fact: this critter is gay gay homosexual gay

I FUCKING LOVE MONSTER OBJECTS ❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️

[zhurnalproliv]

Sooooo-

I took my universe "Unmasked" seriously, and thought of the idea with the view of Edward (scp-049)

I will attach the reference lists at the end of the post about Magpies and Crows. (warning: there is artistic nudity in the drawings)

Also, you can share your thoughts in the comments, like or reblog, it will be interesting for me to read your comments and see your reaction, whether I post such posts or not

There are two sub-races in Edward's race: Magpies and Crows

Magpies

(Example: a man drawn from memory from the drawings of object 049)

CROWS

(Example: Edward Haselhurst, currently referred to as object 049)

Magpies are long-lived, but they do not have a very long life span like Crows, about 500-700 years.

Magpies in the Middle Ages were kept as pets with whom you can talk (if they had at least a little brain present). Peoples were not afraid of them, and they were seen as just cute little animals. They were semi-wild, and had smaller sizes, and the color was not completely black, but black with white stripes

Crows are long-lived++, if Magpies still have a life limit, about 500-700 years, then Crows can live from 6000 to 7000 years(The average value is taken).

Their peculiarity is also included in the fact that they can accumulate useful substances for the body in order to spend them correctly in the future if some critical situation happens where they will have to not eat for a long time. Edward abuses it, alas, because he literally won't eat because he works or something like that. Sometimes he does it just because he doesn't see the point. They can also "overeat", literally. After a few days of hunger strike, for about a week, they need to eat at least something so that their body does not begin to self-destruct. Edward carries useful herbs and dried fruits for this, so yes, sometimes he can be found at the table sucking on a dried tangerine slice or prunes.

Also, crows do not necessarily need sleep, they can stay awake for about three days, after which they will begin to feel tired. That is, yes, they will be awake for three days, and then they will feel tired if they do not sleep for at least 8 hours.

Crows were taken as pupils or children, because they were distinguished by a good mind, memory and obedience, but mostly they were bullied because they were "dangerous", but the most desperate were taken as pupils and children, as happened with Edward and Father Gabriel (I'll tell you about him later, just for reference I will say that he is a church minister)

The danger of "crows" manifested itself only when they were frightened or tried to attack.

Edward is anxious, and he is in this state almost always, because he has lived a fairly long life and remembers some moments well, especially when he is focused on something or thinking (and he does this often). When he is relaxed or in quiet company, his skin is not dangerous.

And a little bit about the "pestilence"

As I said a long time ago, the craze is about "bad people", that is, those who have a dirty soul. But here it's a little different, I decided to rewrite this moment, but I left the main idea the same.

Pestilence - is a state when Edward experiences uncontrollable fear next to some person, that is, in this way he killed his observer, because he began to raise his voice at him and accuse him, and people who "radiate an unpleasant aura" (yes, he feels the human aura well).

A small note, Edward forgot exactly what he called a pestilence, and because of the moment with Alagadda, where almost all people/creatures radiated a rather vile aura, he called it a disease. + because of the knowledge about necromancy that he received from there, he decided that he would "heal" people from the pestilence, that is, literally make their soul become pure. It is logical that after death the soul goes to another world, and Edward does not feel an unpleasant aura, because it literally does not exist.

In the most fucked-up situations, like shootouts, violation of conditions of detention by objects, he enters Berserk mode and kills everyone who radiates a "bad aura". If under normal conditions he can control himself and restrain himself, then in the "Berserker" mode, that is, unconscious mode, he can kill not only enemies, but also associates, so when something like this happens, and Edward may have such a breakdown, he is locked in a rather cozy chamber with noise insulation, and they leave him there until the foundation deals with the whole situation.

[zarvasace]

Vidow Animatic Thoughts (pt 1)

I shall detail thought process etc. let’s go. It’s long. Under cut. Hit tumblr max image upload so this is three parts.

part 1 // part 2 // part 3

Animatic can be found here

Program: procreate dreams (it’s clunky but it works). This whole video took me something like 8 hours? Over the course of uhhh three days? Pretty quick.

Introduction

This is my first ever animatic, so when I began, I wanted to keep it simple. I chose my favorite pencil brush and like three colors (I later added one for emphasis). I had a couple specific scenes in mind, and I knew how I wanted the progression to go, but I winged most of it, shot by shot. The song does a good job of building up with a sort of three-act structure, so.

I referenced the castle from Breath of the Wild, but I didn’t stress too much about the details. The plan was to make it sketchy and quick. The beginning is mostly just things moving across the screen. I think that works, though, setting up the angsty mood and giving me room to expand later on. The first shot with Vio’s face is sort of meant to be a fake-out: you’re looking at him, but no he’s looking at a mirror, which is obvious when it cracks. Not sure if that came across but the cracks are very cool anyway.

This is also the first time you see white, which sort of represents change/time through the whole thing.

And then we see the first of Shadow, and he has his own color: black. He's a real drawing here (rather than black smoke or something) mostly to establish that black=Shadow.

Not much to say about the next bit, with the door and stuff dropping, I just wanted to make it clear that we’re in Vio’s bedroom at the end of a day.

And then he’s being dramatic about getting in bed. Mostly just to show that he’s tired and Haunted. Also I think it does work in establishing that this isn’t really Shadow’s doing. Whether or not he’s actually there doesn’t matter, because it’s Vio who thinks he does, and we’re seeing this from Vio’s perspective. He’s the one who can’t let Shadow go, so whether Shadow is actually haunting him like a ghost doesn’t matter.

Verse 1

SO first off, Vio is sad and has bad dreams. Well, good dreams. They're good, but they make him sad. Shadow shows up in black again, definitely part of the dream (further blurring the line between reality and delusion). Vio's in white in his dream, which doesn't happen anywhere else. If white represents change, then this is Past Vio, or the Vio That Vio Wishes He Was But Isn't. It's definitely memories of some kind, though, because white Vio's hair is short, where normal Vio has a long braid throughout.

We only see Shadow as more than an influence (by that I mean a shadow, a flash, a feeling) a few times, and this is the first. His presence is stronger in dreams and weaker in the reality that Vio lives in.

But the sun comes up and Vio is actually alone. White is the sun/light a lot here, meaning that time is passing. Vio's still brooding. (I really like that little "in the heat of the day" shot, the glint is in Vio's lower eyes which may hint at tears, but it's definitely not obvious yet.) I don't particularly LOVE that drawing of Vio braiding his hair, but it gets the point across. He can't stop thinking about Shadow, even as he goes about his day.

Chorus 1

This part hammers that in: Vio CAN'T stop thinking about Shadow and wallowing in his memories, it's driving him to distraction and failure. He's not moving on. It's right there in the lyrics: "I can never let you go." There's a reference to evil root beer as he's eating, distracted from Red (hi Red!) right beside him. He feels guilty, and can't shoot arrows without imagining himself hurting Shadow more. He still half-expects Shadow to be there for his discoveries. He feels watched, like Shadow should be there all the time, even when he isn't doing anything. He's brooding. Broody boy.

Interlude

Broody boy continues. Important: when he's walking to his room/the library/wherever books are, he's going right to left. I studied a couple videos of walk cycles to get those feet right, and they still aren't right, but I'm still impressed with myself! Also, apparently I now have a mental library of Gothic Windows. I thought that was a fun shot. Vio sure sighs a lot.

Verse 2

This verse is ramping things up and preparing for the turn.

"Nothing ever changes, so I've learned." I feel like this is quite a Vio statement to make. I don't think it's perfectly applicable—in this post-canon-adjacent AU, clearly the four of them are still separate people, which would be quite a change, but for Vio? I think it means that he's maybe a little upset that nobody else is grieving to the point of distraction. People are going about their lives, but every single step Vio takes is shadowed. (ba dum tish.)

The flower was a spur-of-the-moment decision, since I wanted something in the spot where the book was and didn't really want to just draw vague smoke again. But it ended up being thematic and calling back to a later moment in the video. And maybe it hints that Shadow might be showing his approval that Vio is at least trying to do what he loves (that is, reading books.)

And Vio's back in his room, surrounded by books. He's tried so hard to forget. He doesn't look particularly interested in what he's reading, and we know why. I tried to frame that "to forget" shot in a way that looks like he might be drowning in his own ambition, like he has all these books and he's just desperate that one of them will distract him or be a replacement for Shadow's influence in his life, which is quickly growing to dangerous levels...

Did Vio actually see Shadow here? Well, once again, it doesn't matter, because Vio thinks he did, thinks so hard that he throws himself to the ground. It doesn't injure him, but it doesn't take a fortune-teller to imagine that he might do something truly reckless if this keeps going. And Vio sees that, I think, here. He realizes that what he sees might not be real. He's in the "dark night of the soul" here, and actually cries, which is a big deal for his character. It's just two tears—white, if you'll notice—but it represents his hitting rock-bottom.

"And you've never loved me once" is maybe not the right line for this, I considered changing it to "you only loved me once" but I eventually decided to keep the line as it is in the song so there's minimal dissonance for the viewer. The song's story isn't quite the same as the one I'm pulling out here, but this line is the turning point in the song's story and in mine.

(continued in part 2!)

[restinpeacesensei]

[this is a personal post. if you would like to talk about your own experience, please make your own post instead of replying to this one. thank you! i'd also prefer not to be analyzed or given advice, but, validation is welcome ;;]

this fandom WAS my youth... and akoya was the love of my youth....

when people talk about the wild things they did in their teens and 20s, the highs and lows, i relate to it, even though i never did any of it (and was never interested in any of it) "in reality".... the internet was how i found connection and felt like i was really living

the emotional high of reading responses to my personal art and feeling loved for the first time... the crushing lows of sharing something deeply personal to be met with silence or comments that felt violating, that felt like a kind of heartbreak over and over (although i fully understand i was never owed a response and that was the risk i took)... the nights and months i spent crying and didn't know how to make it stop, it felt like it wouldn't stop... and yet when the love came, it was a love i never knew in any other way and kept me chasing the highs over and over...

i want to talk, sometimes, about how it was hard for me... it was very hard and yet, i was choosing this. and it was a privilege i was able to do it, that i had the free time to devote my life to a fictional character (and it still is). i know that. and im grateful that ive been able to do what i wanted. im more grateful than anything else. but it was also very difficult because this was my only way of living in the world, to throw my deepest feelings out in front of strangers.

the walk-of-shame feeling every time i posted something slightly suggestive and came back to check the responses the next day, the feeling of being raw and exposed and all the eyes on me as i went through everything in front of everybody, feeling everyone looking and everyone laughing and being able to imagine too well what they'd say, the sense of being watched at all times that made me ill and yet i had to, i had to share because in some way it made me feel alive, like i was living the experiences i drew... it made me feel like i was living in the world...

i used to stay up very late, making my art (ive said this before but i was doing it full-time, often working 8-12 hours at a time).. then in the daytime i'd find out the response and fall asleep in the sun... i feel nostalgic for those afternoons now, sleeping in the sun... i don't miss the schedule, im much healthier now... but those moments when my feelings were heard and returned and all the hours i put into making something were worthwhile, and i'd crawl into the sunlit bed and fall asleep in relief, are dear to my heart now.

i would check messages and then go lie in bed by the window and reread them over and over... my bed was by a window then, and the sun would come in warm, and the relief of feeling seen and heard would wash over me and i would fall asleep, just thinking about the messages... reliving them in my head over and over...

...the feelings i had for akoya, i never felt for a real person, and it couldn't really work with a real person, because it only worked if he could be whatever i wanted, because i expressed myself through him and wanted to be with him at the same time... but what i felt was real... by drawing him, i felt like i was close to him... and also like i was able to exist in the world myself...

i couldn't say how i felt or even recognize it for nearly seven years, because i was afraid people would say things that made me uncomfortable, afraid of being teased, afraid people would push it too far, and it felt like the only way to avoid that was to not have the feelings, so i couldn't... i projected on him so much that i could almost convince myself that was all i wanted. i was afraid, also, that if i said it, i'd be separated from him... because i couldn't be him and want to be with him at the same time... but ultimately i had to accept it because i couldn't hold it back anymore...

...i hated myself so much, in the beginning, for loving him. for pouring all my energy into him, when i thought he would be mean to me, and probably hurt me... when i was supposed to be doing other things, "important" things, things that mattered in the "real" world, but never made me feel as alive as this. i kept trying to get away, desperately trying to get all my thoughts and feelings out so they would leave me alone and my life would go back to what i thought it was supposed to be... i felt like i had no control over it, this was all i wanted anymore. it felt like falling, it felt like weakness, it felt like shame.

but we became something else, didn't we? we made each other something different from how we started.

and if you asked me... if he asked me to, would i still go to his side... i still will feel my heart pulling me back, i still would want to be with him

i still will think about him, but i won't say it, if you ask me was i ever in love .......

[hisserpentqueen]

A Taste of Home, Chapter 8

Chapters 1 - 7 can be found here

Chapter Eight

By the time he had dropped Betty off, gotten back to the apartment, and into bed it had been all of 3am, so when FP knocked on his door at 7, it was indeed an early morning for Jughead.

It was a beautiful ride as they drove towards Riverdale. Pulling over after a couple hours, FP grabbed out the breakfast that he had packed for the two of them. They were both quiet as they started eating but Jug could feel FP's eyes studying him.

“You had a late night,” he finally commented. Jug smirked and dropped his gaze to the pavement, not saying anything. “Oh, come on boy!” FP laughed. “I know you and I know there is something between you and Betty.”

Jug sighed, but a smile stayed on his face. “I really like her, dad.” Then a furrow formed on his brow. “Things have been…complicated between the two of us and last night something shifted but I don’t know if that means things will be better or not.” He looked up at FP.

He smiled at his son. “Life is complicated, Jug, but if you wait to tell her what you want, she could slip through your fingers…a woman like Betty doesn’t wait around forever.” Jughead nodded in agreement. “What does complicated mean, anyways?”

“Oh, no thank you,” he shook his head, “next topic…when are you going to tell Alice about my book?” FP opened his mouth to say something but shut it quickly. “It’s complicated?” Jug asked sarcastically, his eyebrow raised.

“You know what, shut up and eat your damn food!” FP laughed.

They finished their breakfast and talked more about Jellybean and the Serpents before they said their goodbyes and headed in opposite directions.

--

When Jug got home it was almost noon. He had an informal meeting with the agent the publisher wanted him to work with that afternoon at 4 and as much as he wanted to go talk to Betty he knew he needed sleep if he was going to be coherent during the meeting. So instead of jumping in the shower and thinking through exactly what he wanted to say to Betty, he pulled the blinds in his room and buried himself under the blankets, letting sleep overtake his exhausted mind.

--

Jughead sat nervously as he waited for the agent to join the Zoom call. He wasn’t sure what he would need, so he had gathered several different sized notebooks, three pens and two pencils, a glass of water, and had even gotten a large drawing pad he found at the bottom of his chest. He had the folder with all his stories open in the background on his computer and had all of the printed copies of his random works sitting in a pile next to him.

He knew he couldn’t be any more physically ready if he tried, but he couldn’t shake the fidgety feeling he had. Closing his eyes, he let out a long-held breath between his lips before inhaling deeply through his nose; he repeated this several times until the fidgety feeling had subsided. A moment later a man who appeared to be in his mid-50s logged onto the call and introduced himself as Samm. The meeting went very well, and Jug made a mental note to thank Betty for teaching him her relaxation skill.

--

After cleaning up from his conference call, he had texted Betty, asking if she wanted to meet up for lunch the next day, hoping to talk about what had happened between them the previous night. But she had texted back saying that she had promised her mom to spend the day with her and that she would see him at work on Monday. He had started to let his thoughts run wild with assumptions of how Betty was feeling but he shut them down and opened his most recent project, setting his mind to a task.

He woke before his alarm on Monday, ready for the day. Not wasting any time around the house that morning, he was 15 minutes earlier to work than usual and used his nervous energy to get everything set and ready for their morning rush.

Hearing the front door unlock and the buzz of their open sign start, he took a deep breath, ready to see her. “I was surprised you weren’t already here when I got – ” he stopped short when he saw Ethel grabbing an apron.

“Morning Jug!” She smiled brightly at him.

“Ethel, what are you doing here?” He attempted to mask the disappointment in his voice.

“Betty messaged me yesterday and asked if I could cover for her this morning – she has some kind of appointment and will be in by 10.”

“Oh.” He forced a smile and asked how her weekend had gone.

The morning seemed to drag on and as 10 o’clock approached, he found himself checking the clock every few minutes. Finally, the door chimed and Betty walked through, making his heart do flips in his chest.

“Hey guys.” Betty gave an exhausted smile. “Ethel, thank you so much for the short notice cover.”

“Any time!” She handed out the drink she was working on. “I can stay till the afternoon coverage comes on, if you need.”

Jug held his breath. Talking with Betty at work was difficult enough with the come and go of the customers, but having a third person behind the counter would make things nearly impossible.

“That’s very sweet of you Ethel, but I just need to check a few things in the back and I can get you out of here in a few minutes.” Betty hurried to the office and Jug had to stop himself from following her like a lost puppy.

As Ethel was leaving a wave of midmorning customers swamped them as a nearby plant was on their morning break and left them with little time for chit chat. As the last of the rush cleared out, they both heaved a sigh of relief and looked at each other, giving a small laugh looking around the now completely empty café.

“I, uhh, hope everything was okay with your appointment this morning,” he started.

“Oh, umm…” She furrowed her brow and he shook his head, not wanting to overstep.

“Sorry, I shouldn’t have asked.” Turning away from her, he grabbed a rag and started cleaning up the chaos from the rush, wishing he had just kept his mouth shut as a wave of regret washed over him.

Feeling a hand on his back, he stopped and looked at her, trying to keep an expressionless stare.

“I met with my therapist,” she shared. His face tightened into concern as he turned to face her head on. “I’ve…” she swallowed hard and lifted her hand, showing him the healing self-harm wounds, “I’ve been avoiding my feelings lately and I haven’t been dealing with it the best.”

Jug cupped her hand in his and brushed a finger over her palm, avoiding the cuts. “I’m so sorry you’ve been struggling.” He couldn’t help but worry that their arrangement was making things worse for her and at the very least, it wasn’t helping things. “I’m here if you ever want to talk about it.”  

“Juggie – ”

The front door’s chime rang out and they sprang apart.

Betty controlled her emotions and forced her customer service smile on her face. “Afternoon, what can – ” but the words died on her lips as she turned towards the patron.  

“Elizabeth.” A man with light brown hair and an expensive looking suit stood smiling at her.

“Glen?” She squinted at him, not wanting to believe that he was standing in her café on today of all days. “What are you doing here?” She didn’t bother to keep the annoyance she was feeling upon seeing him again out of her voice.

He gave Jughead a once over and what Betty perceived as a look of dismissal, but Jug didn’t move.

Glen cleared his throat, “I was hoping we could have a moment to speak in private. I remembered that there was usually a calm after the mid-morning rush.” He gave her an expectant look and added in a hushed tone, “You haven’t returned my calls.”

She suppressed the desire to chew on the inside of her cheek while she thought…

Saturday Morning

Betty felt sore as she rolled over, blinking at the harsh morning light. Looking at the clock she could see that it was almost 11 and she was surprised her mother hadn’t barged into her room hours ago to wake her. Sitting up, she almost slumped back down at her pounding head. Assessing the rest of her body, not only could she feel the pain in her back from the long bike ride yesterday, but her knees were screaming in protest at what she had done to them last night on the dock.

The dock.

She knew the look he had given her last night would be burned into her memory for the rest of her life no matter what happened between them. If things ended and she met someone new, marrying him, building a life with him, having children and grandchildren, nothing would be able to remove that look from who she was now…not 20, 30, or even 50 years with someone else could touch that memory.

And that scared the hell out of her.  

Getting dressed, she thought back to the night he had first kissed her. It wasn’t that she hadn’t had feelings for him then, but she was afraid of putting her darkness on him...of letting someone get that close again. But hadn’t he proved to her that he could handle her past? That he had his own darkness that he had been working through and was better for it on this side of things?

But that didn’t change where he was from. Where home was for him. Riverdale. She wasn’t sure how her mom and Polly had found it so easy to go back there after everything…but then again, they had always been alike while Betty had been…

She shook her head, doing her best to clear her thoughts, and walked downstairs. Her mom had left her a note saying that she and Polly had left early to get in some shopping that morning and that they should be home after lunch. She sighed and grabbed some fruit before turning on her computer to look through the online catalog of business classes. Her last class had ended and while she had easily passed it, she had been bored out of her mind every minute of it. As she continued to search the catalog, the nagging voice in the back of her mind saying she was going down the wrong path, for many things in her life, was starting to grow louder.

Betty was relieved when her mother and sister got home as their chatter filled her mind, giving her a break from all the doubt and anxiety that were swirling there. And as the afternoon wore on, the tension in her body started to dissipate and she started to enjoy the conversation with them. Until her sister announced that she was leaving to go study with a group of her friends around the same time her mom had to get to the station for the evening time slot, promising that the next day she would be home all day and they could get Chinese takeout for lunch.  

Her mom had encouraged her to go out or meet up with Veronica, but she had waved her off saying she wasn’t feeling well and thought she might be fighting off something…which in her defense was not a complete lie. In her room, she dragged her computer back out and started looking through the business classes again. About to bang her head on the wall, she paused and did a search on journalism. Several options popped up.

She read through the list of classes that were offered and found a couple of introductory classes that sounded rather interesting. Back in Riverdale her parents had run the local newspaper and as a little girl she had always thought she would one day write stories that her parents would publish. She had the money set aside for another class but knew that if she took on one of these, she would have to wait to take another business course – guilt overwhelmed her as she thought about it.

No, she needed to put the money towards the classes that would help her be successful in her business.

She felt the sting as tears welled up in her eyes and she wiped at them angerly. She was being foolish. She had been the one to want the café, to skip college and start a small business. When she graduated high school, she kept remembering how she had missed the diner, Pop’s, back in Riverdale. She had so many good memories, even with her dad, from the many times they had spent in a booth at Pop’s. But she knew better than to try and recreate Pop’s as it just wouldn’t be the same and would disappoint. She had worked at a chain coffee shop while she was in high school and had found making coffee came naturally to her, thus the idea for her café was born out of the need to fill something missing from her childhood that could never quite be replaced.

She enjoyed the coffee shop, she really did. But she didn’t love it. She didn’t feel fulfilled. It was just a distraction from…

“Ahh,” Betty opened her eyes, tears still streaming down her face, and looked at her hands. Slowly she opened them revealing that she had reopened one of the cuts from the day before but this time, instead of the pain recentering her, she found she felt even more off center than before. Her tears turned to sobs as she balled her hands into fists again and buried her face in her pillow.

Sunday Morning

Betty stood in her bathroom, staring at her hands, dried and crusty blood was stuck around a handful of fresh cuts on her palms. Had she anymore tears left in her, they would have been streaming down her cheeks, but she was all cried out and felt hallow.

“Betty, I was wondering if – “ She jumped at her mom’s voice and hid her hands behind her back as Alice walked into her room. “Didn’t mean to startle you.” Alice’s smile faltered as she walked towards the bathroom and noticed Betty’s unease. “Honey, what’s wrong?”

Betty shook her head, “I’m just not feeling very well this morning.”

“What’s behind your back?” she asked, her voice thick with worry. Betty shook her head again. “Elizabeth, show me your hands. Now.”

Monday Morning

Betty frowned as June gave her a half smile, the quiet still surrounding them. After the very limited small talk that June had given into, they lapsed into silence, leaving Betty on edge while June seemed as comfortable as ever. In the six years that she had know the women, nothing ever seemed to catch her off guard. When she had been 15 and angry at her mom for making her see a therapist, June had welcomed her mood swings and cocky teenage attitude and within six sessions, Betty found she looked forward to her therapy appointments instead of dreading them. Two years later when June suggested that she no longer needed weekly appointments, Betty had opened her mouth to give a snarky remark about her (nonexistent at the time) self-harm, but June had challenged her to list the positives of this change instead of the negatives. She had had her last therapy appointment 4 sessions later.  

That was, until Glen had appeared in her life, a walking red flag, as June liked to call him, and she spent another twelve months in therapy, her last session barely six months ago. But here she was again. Sitting across from her therapist who didn’t seem the slightest bit shocked to see her.

“You could at least pretend to be surprised to see me,” Betty said flatly.

“I could…but that would be a lie.” June’s smile grew softer. “Betty, we’ve talked about this before, many people return to therapy several times throughout their lives…there is nothing wrong with that.”

“I know…but you always hope that you are the one who won’t be a part of a statistic.” She dropped her chin dramatically into her palm.

June gave a small laugh and nodded in understanding. “I know you said you’ve relapsed with your self-harm again.” Betty held up her hands, showing her the small cuts. “Any new methods?”

“No.”

“Any new places of self-harm on your body?”

“No.”

“Suicidal thoughts or thoughts to harm others?”

“No.”

“Desires to dress in drag and do the hula?”

“N – what?” Betty shook her head and stared at her. “Did you just quote The Lion King?”

June gently pumped her fist in front of her. “Thank you for catching that reference!” She reached out her hand, looking for a high five, and Betty reluctantly obliged her with a look of complete confusion on her face. “Gotta keep you on your toes.” She gave her a ridiculous smile and Betty couldn’t help the small one that tugged at her own lips. “Ahh! There we go! Her smile does still exist.”

Betty scoffed at her, but finally relaxed into her chair, thankful that June always knew what she needed to hear to get her in the right head space for session.

“So, how about we start at the beginning…tell me about Jughead.”

Betty tried to keep her story short, but she also knew that June had made extra time for her that morning and was appreciative of it. She told her about how the friends with benefits had started and that while she did have genuine feelings for Jug, she had been nervous about how her relationship with Glen had affected her. She told her about the late nights and reading his book and helping him fix the ending. About the last few weeks and how things had been strained between them leading to her self-harm on Friday. About his celebration dinner and the bike ride and the exchange on the dock. Then how she had let herself dream about being with him…but that all things seemed to lead back to Riverdale.

“You really care about Jughead.” It wasn’t a question, but Betty nodded anyways. June nodded, pursing her lips together, thinking a moment before speaking. “I know you are very emotional right now, so I say this gently, hoping that you hear what I am saying instead of automatically throwing up a defense.”

Betty sighed and nodded. She knew if June was taking the time to warn her that whatever she was going to say was hard to hear, that it was also probably something that she desperately needed to hear right then. “Okay.”

“It doesn’t seem like any of this self-harm is actually about Jughead or your situationship at all. And in fact, I feel like there is more going on under the surface that you aren’t telling me.” Betty didn’t say anything. “In your text you said you self-harmed twice, but you only told me about the first time.”

Betty shifted uncomfortably in her seat as she told her about Saturday and what classes she had been looking at online.

“There seems to be a lot of guilt around the idea of taking a journalism class,” June pointed out.

“Well, I can’t just waste my money on stupid ideas,” she bit out.

“Why is it stupid?” she asked, gently.

“I have a business to run, coffee shop! How does a journalism class help me with that?” She tossed out her hands in frustration.

June nodded. “You’re right, a journalism class would not help you gain a better understanding of how to run your café.” Betty gave her a, I told you so, face. “But you’re only 21…you’re allowed to continue to explore who you want to be.”

“A journalist isn’t it!” she snapped.

“Because your father was a journalist?”

“Yes!” Betty looked shocked at her own answer. “No…I…” Tears gathered in her eyes. “Yes,” she said quieter as a tear rolled down her face.

June nodded, giving her space to process what she had just admitted to out loud. After a few moments she spoke again. “Correct me if I am wrong, but I vaguely remember you telling me when you very first came to see me that the adults in Riverdale used to tell you that you reminded them of your father at that age.” Betty gave a small nod. “Are you afraid that if you follow after him into journalism, that you will somehow follow after him into the darkness?”

Betty sat with eyes downcast, wringing her hands, tears still rolling down her cheeks. “Yes.”

June shifted forward in her seat, drawing Betty’s gaze back to her. “Sharing common goodness does not mean we have to share common darkness.” Betty felt something lift off her chest. “You also can’t decide for others how much of your past they can handle.”

“Glen, this is not an appropriate time. I am at work.” His chest seemed to puff out in annoyance as he opened his mouth to speak, but Betty cut him off, holding up her hand. “But, if you are free tonight, I will have time after work.” She felt, more than saw, Jughead turn away from them as she spoke. “Does 5:30 sound okay?”

A self-satisfied grin spread across his face. “Sounds perfect. I will meet you here.”

[druidgroves]

ok dianthe backstory done she's also long RIP

Before Dianthe Parvenus was even a glimmer in her parents’ eyes, the Parvenus line started with her great-great grandfather, Theron, and his pact with the devil Mephistopheles. A poor man with no money and no last name, Theron did the unspeakable when he sold his immortal soul for money and influence. Thrust into Balduran nobility practically overnight, Theron took on the surname Parvenus to pass onto his newfound lineage.

Fool enough to make a deal but not fool enough to make a pact, Theron used his wealth to become an accomplished wizard. He passed the importance of magic and power down to his only son, Theron Parvenus II, whom he pressured into learning the arcane arts. Passing on the name as well as the expectation that each Parvenus patriarch be a master wizard became tradition. In the latter half of 15th century DR, Theron IV still carried that torch—somewhat.

By this point, the Parvenus line was hemorrhaging gold. Theron III had a bad habit of gambling and throwing money at his problems. Such an attitude lead the third Parvenus patriarch to die at the hands of particularly aggressive loansharks. However, it was his son, Theron IV, and his business prowess that saved the family name from going broke. At twenty, he used what was left of the money to start a business in the importing of spell components and magical items for low key, discerning customers. The idea made enough money to save their social standing as well as secure a marriage that eventually produced three children, Dianthe being the last.

Her elder siblings, Evander and Aurelia, were enrolled in an arcane academy young so as to build skill early. While their father was an accomplished wizard himself, he had a business to run and was simply too busy to teach them as his father had taught him and his father before and so on. Because of this, he pressured them to do well and exceed his own high expectations. When Evander and Aurelia were 8 and 7 respectively, their younger sister Dianthe was born, and sent the entire Parvenus family into chaos.

Born with blue skin and a pointed tail, it was said her mother died of shock right there on the bed when she was placed in her arms. Not long after the funeral did Theron IV find evidence of his great-grandfather's deal, with his youngest child being further proof that the Parvenus name was built on lies and fiendish magic.

Growing up, Dianthe wasn't treated terribly unfairly, but her father's expectations were higher than that of her siblings. She was always expected to sit straighter than Evander, or speak softer than Aurelia. She hated drawing attention to herself to avoid her father’s critical eye and did anything she could to fade into the background. She filled her time reading books about adventurers and far off places, a hobby that would keep her company growing up in her lonelier years.

Her siblings half-resented her for taking their mother away from them and it was clear in her father's eyes that he had his own complicated feelings about her. The only time they seemed to get along like a family was after dinner, when her brother and sister would show off the new spells they learned (a requirement from their father to keep up with their studies). Their magic had always entranced Dianthe and when the time came for her to start attending, she had to beg and plead her father to let her. At age eight, he finally relented by acquiring a private tutor for her.

Within an hour of her first day of class, the man ran out of their estate with fire clinging to his clothes, cursing the family’s name. This was when the wild magic that had laid dormant for nearly a decade showed itself, causing even more chaos for the family. No spell Dianthe cast was without consequence, whether it be fire, a temporary beard made of feathers, or becoming a polymorphed sheep. It was clear that she was a sorcerer with magic she couldn't control, no matter how dedicated to her studies she would be.

With her siblings excelling in their magic and Dianthe left behind as the black sheep of the family, she did everything she could to prove she was still useful to them. She poured herself into arcane theory in an attempt to study her own magic, as well as developing a keen knack for matters of money by listening in on her father's business dealings. She did well in ways she could get her hands on things, being able to accurately price any of the magic items coming in and out of her father's business and even pointing out errors in his ledgers (always with a polite, even tone). In fact, she did so well with finances that her father had discussed using her talents in the business officially, telling her that even if she could not match Evander and Aurelia in matters of magic, her mind could still be put to good use. She figured this was as good as it was going to get. At twenty-three, Dianthe began doing the books for the family business.

For the first time possibly ever, Dianthe felt like she earned her place in her family. During this time of unprecedented good luck, she became acquainted with a young nobleman named Malion Blackwell. He was an artist from a family of artists and the two quickly fell in love. He proclaimed Dianthe his muse and the attention was everything she ever wanted. For every portrait he did of her, she would shower him in gifts for she had no artistic talents to give back. Expensive paints, custom-made canvases, the works; Malion got as much supplies from her as Dianthe got adoration from him.

When discussion of who the family business would go to in the event of Theron IV’s death, Dianthe was sure she would be prioritized. She had done so well with the finances that they were actually saving money, as she had developed better trade relations than her father ever had. She excitedly told Malion of her prospects and the very next week he had a ring. It was no question that she said yes.

A week after that, Theron fell ill. A month later he was dead. The family business was left in Evander’s hands.

Dianthe seethed. She had never been this angry before. She had worked hard for the one thing she thought she was owed in her life, if not her family’s love then the business she helped shape. She would have thought her money-minded father would have at least realized that. She had more financial know-how in her little finger than her older brother had in his entire head. It was with this idea, and with bitter regret, that twenty-six year old Dianthe took the inheritance she had and left the family. She found herself a modest apartment in the Lower City with dreams of starting her own financial practice.

Malion did not share her dreams, and broke off their engagement and left her. Dianthe was devastated, now lonelier than ever, but managed to push through on her new dream. She began advertising herself specifically to adventurers, as she had come to know through visits to the Elf Song that most groups of heroes weren’t very financially savvy. For six years she worked and made the acquaintance of many a would-be adventurer, sometimes trading financial advice for stories of their conquests. Such stories eventually inspired her to perhaps follow the books of her youth and try her own hand at it. She had a little magic—that she was loathe to use, sure—but one didn’t need magic to adventure.

Little was she to know that on the day an illithid nautiloid passed over Baldur’s Gate, she would need more than just her innate, tangled knot of Weave to survive what adventure was to come.

[nateascendingskies]

The Personal Experiences of Pixar and Elemental

Leaving a showing of the crew at Pixar and director Peter Sohn's latest film, Elemental, I was struck by how personal and certifiably unique the film was - no, not necessarily because of its story or even its characters (though the latter felt like a great inverse and even echo of the similar Zootopia), but because of how its themes of the immigrant experience, the duties and expectations of familial traditions, and even the feeling of multicultural love were conveyed or explored.

Much like how I have felt and seen myself in classic Disney and DreamWorks characters like Nick Wilde, WALL-E, and Hiccup Haddock, Ember and Wade spoke to me in ways I wasn't necessarily expecting or even considering walking into the theater some 2 hours earlier.

Like the literal flaming young woman that is Ember, I find myself in an interesting position in my life. While I have not necessarily found myself in the burden of following in family footsteps, I related very much to the idea of having to control one's temper in stressful situations. In the retail environment I have found myself in, I too have been overwhelmed by the constant hustle, bustle and flow of customers - all with their own wacky, weird and wild requests I probably wouldn't have even considered had I not stepped foot in a Home Depot for 8 hours every day. Oftentimes, I need a softer, creative, and often free-spirited side to awaken and comfort me when things get rough or tough sometimes. And, of course, that's where someone like a Wade comes in.

Like Wade, I do find myself easily crying at the most emotional of things - I do happily and readily admit. Yet, like the big ol' blob of water he is, I also find myself finding some clever solutions to problems I never once considered encountering. In addition, I do have a family and a creative community around me who have gone their own wacky and unusual ways, pursuing their own computer science or radiological techniques while I still try to find my own way around the world - living the dream as a writer for a film or motorsport publication or an archivist for a studio like Pixar, perhaps (funny, ain't it?).

Even then, it wasn't just the personal connections that I found in myself that drew me in. For the longest time, I had been longing for a Pixar film that felt like a true back to basics approach - the product of one voice guiding a similar creative team of thousands. Much like 2021's Luca, this was it - but on a big screen scale I didn't even think I wanted to see again. It felt refreshingly simple, pared back, even - which let the visuals carry the story even more than usual.

I didn't need any dialogue about butterflies, car windshields, code violations, blunt yet hard hitting racial allegories, games about making others cry, or depressed clouds trying to play visually trippy basketball equivalents (trust me, it all makes sense when you see the film) to keep me invested - all it took was a kaleidoscopic trip through a flooded old train station to find a flower that could survive in water and fire, some literal crowd waves at a sports stadium, and a literal familial flame to guide me through this weird world of living elements that Sohn and his team had created, showing more than saying what he had seen as a member of an immigrant family and perhaps even as a smitten romantic himself. Besides, as someone who spent a year in Oregon watching some of the best glassblowers in the world practice their craft, I couldn't help but smile watching that all come into play as a gift that Ember realized she had.

If anything, the flaws and traditional story beats the film had only served to draw attention more to what made it work - as a romantic comedy about literal opposites attracting, an unexpected tonal blender of comedy, drama and romance, and as a beautiful reflection of never really giving up on the dreams you discover and find as your life changes. I mean, if you told me I'd find a home at a Home Depot as a job I loved 5 or 10 years ago, I'd call you nuts! If you told me I'd come out of a film as mismarketed as Elemental listening to its beautiful score from Thomas Newman and admiring it mere hours after seeing it in a way that even Across the Spider-Verse couldn't match, I'd call you insane! And, perhaps most importantly of all, if you told me that I'd have a renewed hope, admiration and appreciation for the team at Pixar after how critical I was about their position in my last post - well, then you'd probably call me an unbelievable hypocrite with something stuck in my head. But that's just the way things work - and I couldn't be any happier to be wrong.

Plus, it made me more determined than ever to chase my own animated dreams. Now, if you don't mind, I'm gonna see what I should doodle next…

[blackbird-brewster]

All the even numers >:)

Bahahaha, alright Anon. I saved this for last.

2. Do you drink tea or coffee? How do you take it? 

(Answered here)

4. Do you sleep on your back, stomach or side? 

I'm a side sleeper, mostly facing outwards. But sometimes, I wind up on my back and when I do I snore so loud Doom Them has to wake me up.

6. Do you prefer drawing or writing? 

I can't draw for shit. Writing is my creative talent

8. What’s your favourite band/artist? 

I have SO many. I listen to a wild range of music. Everything from ska to indie rock to punk to emo to pop. Some of my all-time fave bands include: The Killers, Foreigner, Avett Brothers, Postal Service, Betty Who, Beyonce, Lizzo, Tegan and Sara.

10. How tall are you? 

5'6" or 168 cm

12. Who are five (or more) people you want to hug right now? 

@otahkoapisiakii @bittersweet-bibliophile @the-kazoo-kid @gaelic-symphony @mygenitiveisobjective

14. What’s your favourite colour? 

(Answered here)

16. Want any tattoos? What of? 

I have around 35 tattoos (hard to count when you have half sleeves and such). I DO want more tattoos, but in the past two years one of my chronic conditions has made it so I'm allergic to my tattoos. They get welts and hives all the time. Which really sucks because uhhhh, my entire body is covered in them 🤷‍♂️

18. Who is the last person you texted? 

I sent Frankie some smut as a little treat!

20. What/who do you miss? 

I miss all my loves in the US. But in terms of 'what' -- the thing I miss everyday is being able to leave my house without it having to be an entire Event. I miss life before the pandemic where I didn't have to take 100 pre-emptive steps to protect myself every time I go out. I miss 2020 when everyone (in my country) was in this together, when everyone was masking and staying home when they were sick, when everything was accessible by being online. I miss when people cared.

The pandemic isn't over. Some of us have never left lockdown.

22. How much sleep did you get last night? 

I actually went to sleep hella early. I was asleep before my daily kudos email (this is how I tell time, okay?) which comes about 00:20. Then, I got up early with Doom Them -- so I think I got about 7 hours? I only need 5-6 to be functional.

24. When was the last time you cried? Why? 

Last night I cried from laughing so hard at this picture of our cat

26. What are some seemingly childish things you like? 

I don't believe joy has an age limit. I'm a regular at our local toy stores, I know all the staff, I'm always buying new fidget toys and Squishmallows. I got into Squishmallows about the same time I got my Autism dx (mid-2020) and since then, Squish have become a constant form of comfort for us. We currently have about 300 in our collection -- and that's after some major downsizing. There's no way to know how many squish we've rotated through over the years. Here's the last full squad photo we took in Jan 2022 (there's nowhere in our house to do a full pic of the 300 we have currently)

28. How are you, really? 

I'm actually doing well this week. Summer weather arrived without warning and my depression is lifting. I feel really inspired for the first time in weeks!

30. What are you looking forward to in the near future? 

Finishing Fooled Around (and Fell in Love) - Part 3!!!!!!!!

32. If you could go anywhere right now, where would you go? 

If I could see my US friends without actually having to go to the US itself, that would be perfect.

34. What’s your favourite flower? 

(Answered Here)

36. Do you like your middle name?

Not really. My middle name is the name of some random ski instructor my parents met the year before I was born (I have theories about this, about why my dad randomly remembered this person's name -- but that's a whole other thing. Oh, and also that's one of my middle names, it's complicated. I have like 5 names)

38. Do you have any phobias? 

Ornithophobia (fear of birds). Also scared of horses, cows, and airbags.

40. Do you like the beach? Do you prefer it sunny or cloudy? 

YES!! I love living ten minutes from the beach. We go there a lot to relax and scream at the ocean. I prefer sunny weather, hands down, but it's cloudy 90% of the time here.

42. Tag 5 of your favourite blogs

Oh, this is really difficult. I'll just tag some rad mutuals: @knitmeapony @chaotic-archaeologist @unitchiefs-blackbirdphoenix @gaelic-symphony @artcake

44. Who was the last person you said “I love you” to? 

I've said 'I love you' to at least five people today and it's only 10am. And I meant every one of those. I'm very much the type of person who loves my partners and friends openly and freely.

46. What do you need when you’re sad? 

Cranky Cave(tm)! Cranky cave is when I'm having meltdowns. I go to my room and turn on the fairy lights and galaxy projector. Grab a ton of squish and fidgets. Bury myself in blankets. And watch my comfort shows.

48. Who’s someone you can trust with your life? 

Doom Them, Kay, Coyote.

[Send Me Asks]

[pbandjesse]

My neck is still very stiff but I seemed to have fixed my wrist pain. By hitting my wrist with a book? There was a very painful hard bump on the top of my wrist and I smacked it with a book based on remembering something I read and it worked?? I know that is not a long term fix but it's something. At least I'm not suffering as much as I have been cause it's been rough.

I went to sleep last night and slept alright. Getting up was hard. I was almost sure I was just going to sleep and extra hour since it wouldn't matter. But then I remember I parked on the side of the street that would need cleaning today and had to move the car by 8. So I still got up at 7.

And honestly it wasn't bad. I was up and dressed. I didn't like what I chose. I ended up in my green romper which I love. It's a bit thin but with a tank top I feel just fine.

I made toast before I left. Which was good but I bit tough. And then I was on the road.

James did get to sleep in a little later then their normal 530. And they were still very tired but they would have some restful parts of the day as they would head back from Philly with Lane. But because of tiredness we are pushing back our movie date. Which is fine by me. Well get there soon.

I got to camp at 8 and it was a nice morning. I got stuff set up and then went for a walk.

I found some mushrooms. And took some pictures. And I was just in a good mood. Even if it hurt to turn my neck.

My groups today were awesome. Everyone really seems to love the project and I just felt so positive. Which was excellent. And I have a good flow going with the explanation now.

Katerina asked if she could carve a cuttlefish and I was like. Of course. And so she worked on that and later when bontkirchen was there I would cast it and she had the first successful rings and that was so cool! I am so excited how great people's pieces are and what we have discovered works and what doesnt. It is wild to me how many of the kids just don't follow directions and bring me carved pieces that won't work and when I explain how to fix it they bring me essentially the same thing a second time. I had a girl today go through like 6 bones without me know which made me kind of annoyed but it's whatever. We are learning.

At lunch I had my apple and cheese and peanut butter. Girl lunch. And then just had some time to be quiet and alone and that was needed.

My wrist and neck were honestly killing me. I would lay on the picnic table with my head leaning over and that helped a bit. But nothing was making my wrist feel better. I was so good about my brace today but it was just not good. Then I remembered the book thing. And I was in the middle of reading a book. And so I just smacked my wrist and it hurt! But almost immediately the radiating pain was gone. I could move my wrist in all directions!! I was so excited. It's not perfect for sure but I'm not miserable anymore!!

The afternoon was fine. The day campers did much better today. Everyone seems to love the drawing game. There's almost always one or two that have trouble letting go and letting the drawings be weird. But overall it's a hit.

Katerina would send mee a super nice message about how much she loves my class and it just warmed my heart. "I honestly love your program so much. It's so creative and fun. Thank you for the opportunities to make cute stuff."

I had fun casting with bontkirchen. And they finished up my metal stamping pieces. I'll have to order more. I still want to come up with a third metal working project but I haven't spent any time thinking about. I'll figure it out. I love how much they all love jewelery making so maybe we'll play with that more. But for now we are having fun with casting and stamping and it's just been super fulfilling.

I ended the day with a really nice day camp group. With some questionable counselors. But it's fine. The kids were very good. And they made good work overall. And while they worked I worked on filing off the rough parts of Katerina's rings. And it was a nice way to end the day. I love filing metal.

My neck was still hurting though. So once everything was cleaned and ready for tomorrow I went down to the office to chat. Showed off my mushroom pictures. Clowned on Chris that his bald head looked like the giant mushroom I found. And then said goodnight.

I would drive home and had a pretty easy drive. I got back here around 5. And my James was here. I was glad to see them home and safe.

They would attempt to help me with my stuff neck. Some things helped more then others. It's for sure still stiff but it's not as bad as it was.

James would have their podcast recording. Moved form Friday so if we want to go to the movies there isn't a problem. And I would take a shower and get comfortable in bed. Which was restful. I also finally finished all my lesson ideas for the national guard. Which took an hour or so but I am glad it's done. I'll have to do the supplies costs and links soon but I'm able to send that off now.

I had chicken nuggets (vegetarian) and salad for dinner. And brushes Sweetp who yelled the whole time. And eventually James came and held me. Eventually they ran to the store for milk and eggs and I would have some cereal as a snack. They would try to massage the stiffness out of my neck. It helped and I appreciated them trying.

And now Brandon is here!! We the rest of our wedding pictures!! I am excited to see them.

I hope it's fun to see new shots.

I hope tomorrow is a good day. I plan on sleeping at camp the next two days. I have groups alllll day. So fingers crossed it's not a nightmare. I hope you all have a goodnight and you are hurting anywhere. Until next time!!

[cowboyshit]

fifteen questions

I was tagged by @zumo-san (thank you so much for the tag, love! it’s been awhile since I did one of these) tagging: I’m going to take the easy way out and say if you want to answer these feel free to say I tagged you and go wild!

nickname: ash, ashomundo sign: sagittarius height: 5'2″ last thing I googled: horse anatomy diagram song stuck in my head: I like me better by lauve number of followers: 18,690 amount of sleep: depends. some nights I can get 8 - 10 hours (sometimes even more if I’m feeling extra sleepy) but these last couple weeks it’s been 3 - 5 hours a night. dream job: making a comfortable living off of publishing cowboy romance novels wearing: plaid leggings and a black tank-top movies/books that can summarize me: I’m sure there’s a great answer to this, but my brain is drawing blanks. favorite song: right now? let me drown by orville peck favorite instrument: piano or the good ol’ acoustic guitar aesthetic: pink, cute, country favorite authors: terri farley, cassandra clare, jojo moyes, luke arnold... there’s a ton of others but those were the first that came to mind random fun fact: just a fun fact, or a fun fact about me? I guess it’s about me since this entire questionnaire is about me. let’s see... I raised cattle when I was younger and showed steers through both 4H and FFA. one of my steers (my favorite I ever had) won every single show we went to. he even took supreme grand champion at our local county fair! (he also used to let me curl up and nap on him when he was laying down sleeping, and he loved to play with soccer balls)

[scream-into-the-voiddd]

Hot Soup Cold leads

chapter 2: out on the green.

[summary: young April is trying to find out what happened in the disappearance of action star Lou Jitsu but what she finds instead is far more interesting]

April knew it would not be simple but she did know that she was not going anywhere unless she started. The first thing she had to do was look at the facts.

The facts were as follows:

Lou Jitsu went missing in 1998 shortly after premiere of ‘Hot Soup Forever'.

He was last seen getting into a cab all dressed up on a Friday night.

He was only found to be missing when he missed a meeting with his manager. Weeks after he was last seen.

And that’s it, that’s all April had to start with. That’s all the internet already had on Lou’s disappearance. The rest is just people make up wild stories about what might of happened. Like

'He was taken by the mob.'

'He was killed by a mugger and thrown into a trash can.'

'He fell into a man hole and died in the sewers.'

'He skipped town and changed his name due to gambling dept.'

'He got a princess pregnant and is raising the child in secret.'

All of them conspiracy theories or dumb rumors though. April needed the facts and the web pages had no real hard sources just the basic information. So April had to go when she normally was having trouble finds answers, her local library.

April loved the library it was always filled with cool stuff and weird people which in April’s opinion was the best kind of people. It was one of the only places her mother felt comfortable leaving her for more then an hour. Which is good cause April never made a short visit especially when she was on a mission. April went to the front desk and hit the top of the small bell to get the librarians attention. He was a lanky gentleman and always looked like he had just stepped out of the rain with his flat hair and his cloths draping over his skinny frame but despite this however he was always smiling and happy to help anyone who came into the library.

“Ah, April you looking for the new Jupiter Jim comics we had a set sent from up sate.”

“Not today Milton..."

April took a second and corrected herself.

"OK not right now. I am actually looking for news paper articles from 1998.”

Milton smiled and nodded.

“Oh OK, school project?”

April thought about the question.

“Personal project.”

She tried to use her most serious voice and the sternest face her 8 year old fetches could give.

“Ok let me see what we can find.”

Milton still smiling points April to follow him into a room that is covered in filing cabinets and points April to sit at the table in the middle of the room.

“So any paper in particular your looking for?”

“Nope just what you have on spring of 1998”

“OK well, all of the cabinets are a different publication and the dates are all inside and over here is a reel scanner that shows you the ones that are on display or digital file. I’ll be at my desk if you have any questions.”

“Thank you Milton.”

She answered him with her serious voice again. Milton seem amused by it and just left the room. April then looked at the cabinets and went to one labeled 'New York network mar-may 1998'. She cracked her tiny knuckles and opened the draw.

April then spent the next few weeks going through all the cabinets, with all the newspapers and articles she could find. Through it all she had only found three about Lou Jitsu's disappearance.

The first was just filled with everything she already knew, so that ones out. The seconded one was more about his manager and how Lou was acting strange before he went missing. April asked Milton to help her make a copy of that one for later but right now it didn't tell her anything new. But the third one was what got her attention at the moment. It was not an article about Lou's disappearance but a magazine tabloid about 'The average night for Lou Jitsu'.

It went on about where he got his hair cut and where he ate after he got his hair cut and blah blah blah; but what was interesting was the last part. Apparently Lou liked to reserve a whole fancy restaurant one Friday night a month and would eat there by himself all dressed up. Friday the same day on the week he went missing, all dressed up in a cab. That must have been where he was going, to that restaurant it was called...

On the green.

Rich people name stuff weird?

April basically ran all the way home happy as could be. A lead she actually got a lead. She needed to find away to get to this restaurant though and then she had to find someone worked there when Lou Jitsu was last there and .... oh who cares about that know she has a lead and he will run with it as far as she can carry it.

It took some doing just managed to convince her mother she was going to the library again and planned out her bus route to take her to On the green. When she got their it was not as fancy as she thought it would be. It was rundown and paint was piling off the walls and dirty cracked bricks lined ground of the outdoor section. The years had not been kind to this place. April went to the front desk and waved at the uninterested staffer.

'Hi.'

"What do you want kid."

"I was wondering if I could..."

But before she could finish a woman came to rush her out the door.

"Oh dear, there are no children allowed in here off you go kid"

"But.."

April tried to speak but words failed her.

"No acceptations, sorry dear, come back in 10 years or so."

and with that April was outside the door and woman has vanished back inside.

"Like you dumb restaurant will be here in 10 years lady."

April shouted at the decaying building. Not one to give up that easy though she walked to the side of the building but there was a big heavy iron gate that went into the outdoor setting. So April looked around the other side of the building to find a small and thin walkway that was hidden behind garbage cans, April moved quietly through the narrow passage way and found it to be a dead end with another brick way closing the whole thing off. April signed and turned to leave but saw something in the corner of her eye. April knelled down to insect her find.

It was red leather shoe, or rather what was left of one. It looked like it had not moved in years which made sense as this passage way was not long enough to lay down in and didn't lead anywhere so why would anyone come back here. April pulled out a pencil from her bag and began to poke at the shoe, could it be? She thought, as she pulled her copy of the magazine article, and sure enough it showed a picture of Lou Jitsu head to toe in red.

"A CLUE..." she shouted before pulling out a sandwich bag and placing the shoe inside it.

Lou was here and now she had proof.

part 1

[whatdoesshedotothem]

Sunday 2 April 1836

7 ¾

12 10

no kiss a slight sprinkling of snow on the ground and snowing or raining 1st 1 then other till 8 ¾ at which hour F40° and breakfast in ¾ hour - my father had been restless till 2 this morning - then up - his bowels moved, and very composed and quiet and easy afterwards -a few minutes in his room - he seems to me much the same as yesterday - out at 10 - Robert Mann + 3 and Mr. Freeman 8? men preparing for the great caping stone as they call it (9 tons + Mr. Freeman says) and doing what they could till it arrived about 12 - all the afternoon getting it down from the road and setting it till 4 ¼ when all left off work - Mr. Freeman and his nephew came a little before 4 for a minute on their way to H-x - out at 10 this morning till about 10 ½ when called in to see Mr. Jubb - did not seem to think my father worse than yesterday - a few minutes then and afterwards in my father’s room - and with A- drawing costumes again this morning took her out about before 12 for ¾ hour - to the Rockwork, and the bottom of the walk - we came in for a minute or 2 to pay Walton (by check) the Low moor company’s agent for tram rails - A- rode to Cliff hill off or before at 2 and back at 3 ¼ - out from about 1 ¾ to 4 ¼ - then had Robert and Joseph Mann -settled with them - A- wrote note to Miss Rawson on her going to Edinburgh with Mrs. R- her mother on Tuesday and offering to take anything for A- who has nothing to send - dressed - dinner at 6 - coffee - A-‘s French - Mr. Jubb came at 7 - my father worse since 2pm today - Mr. Jubb finds his pulse worse - irregular - down between 70 and 80 - his breathing worse - yet he may get over the night - sometime with Marian in my father’s room while A- with my aunt - then with her and my aunt till came upstairs about 9 ½ till 10 20 wrote the above of today - just before dinner compliments from Mr. and Mrs. William Priestley and inquiries after my father and A- and the family and myself particularized - Marian gave the message that my father was very ill, and I that ‘the family was very much obliged and as well as could be expected��� - some coal-pit conversation with the Manns but resisted all effort on the part of Walton this morning to bring on any conversation - A- had Washington this morning who brought her an intelligible plan of the Water Lane mill property and the well as it is - wild day -showers of rain snow and hail all the day frequent and the hail showers heavy in the afternoon F32° at 10 pm my father so evidently changed resolved not to undress - but lie down by A- who did not like to go to bed without me - about ½ hour in my father’s room till 12 - and then did my hair and at 12 20 A- got into bed and I lay down or rather got into bed with my clothes

[percontaion-points]

TBWSIMBW chapter 4

Today's review might be difficult for some; reader discretion is advised

Click to see the rest of the snark & image descriptions

Click here for the rest of the series!

Chapter 4

After dinner Jake and Liam went out and got some drink [SIC] for the party as usual.

You’re not going to bother to explain how, at 18 years old, in the United States, that they managed to commit this crime? No? Fuck logic, you say? Alright then. 

I groaned at the thought of another party. They didn’t get too wild or anything like that, but they would last until two or three in the morning.

I would ask why she doesn’t spend the night with her girlfriends… But then I was like “Duh. Obviously they’re going to want to be at this party, too.” Silly me. 

I wrenched the door open and glared at him. “You’re not my man, so get the hell out!” I shouted.

This has got to be the stupidest subplot ever. The idea that he’s been sleeping in bed with her for the past 8 years, and she somehow doesn’t have romantic feelings for him. 

I dried my hair off, straightening it and applied my make-up. Again, I hardly ever wear any make up, even to parties, so I just added a little silver eye shadow and some mascara, switching my clear lip gloss, for pink. I pulled on my midnight blue lacy bra and thong and looked through my closet. Parties at our house were always incredibly hot. Jake and Liam practically invited the whole school and everyone crammed in, making everyone sweaty and hot so I didn't want to go for too many layers. I pulled out a pair of black fairly short shorts and a tank top, then slipped on my silver long necklaces and my silver strappy sandals with a little heel. I looked myself over in the mirror. I had a nice figure, toned, not too skinny and curvy in all the right places. I took after my mom and had long legs and curvy hips, a small waist and slightly bigger than average breasts. I wasn’t the most attractive girl around, but I was happy with myself and that was all that mattered to me.

This is 100% a wish fulfilment story for the author. 

Jake wouldn’t like this outfit though. It probably showed way too much skin for his liking, even though I was completely covered - and compared to the skanks he and Liam were used to hanging around with, I looked like a nun. I briefly considered changing before deciding against it, no it was hot and I wasn’t going to get all sweaty and wear jeans just because he doesn’t like guys to look his [sic] little sister. 

Doesn’t want the other boys to look at Amber. 

Also has a raging party with alcohol and invites the entire school to his house every weekend. 

When I got to the kitchen I was greeted by the sight of a girl laying across my kitchen counter, and two boys doing shots off of her body.

Did the author mean to write them all being in high school? Cause this seems more like a frat party than anything. 

After a couple of hours I was pretty drunk.

Casually mentions underaged drinking like 4 times this chapter alone. 

I wonder why none of the neighbours have ever called the police?

Oh, there’s that pesky logic again. Grown-ups don’t exist in this world!

Jake came out of nowhere. “Dude, what the fuck? That’s my little sister!” he shouted at Liam, grabbing his shoulder and jerking him away from me.

I love how Liam is Jake’s BFF… yet he himself wouldn’t allow Liam to actually be around his sister. Despite putting her into the constant, awkward position of needing to ride to and from school with him, and having Liam be constantly in the house with her. Often alone. 

I’d also like the record to state that nobody knows what Liam has been doing every night for 8 years. 

…Somehow. 

“Liam, you need to stay away from my sister, she’s sixteen for fuck sake.”

Really? That’s where he’s drawing the line? At her age? What the hell is he going to say in two years when she’s 18?

I gasped and pulled my head back, banging it on the cupboard behind me, hard enough to make my eyes water. [Random college dude-bro] shook his head, looking at me a little bewildered and then crashed his lips to mine. I whimpered and pushed on his chest, trying to get him off, his hands went to the back of my neck holding me still and I felt him lick along my bottom lip. I clamped my mouth shut and pushed him as hard as I could, but he didn’t budge. I started to freak out; I could literally feel the panic attack taking over as my heartbeat crashed in my ears.

[one page later]

[Liam] nodded and set me down on my feet, but I could barely stand and I felt myself sway as my legs threatened to give out on me. Liam wrapped one arm around my waist, holding me up, and pulled my necklaces off. I got hold of the bottom of my top and pulled it over my head, getting tangled in the process and starting to laugh. I heard him sigh as he pushed me to make me sit on the bed and pulled my top off for me. When I looked up at him I saw he had an amused expression on his face. I laid back on the bed and unbuttoned my shorts, raising my hips as I pulled them down over my ass; he grabbed them and pulled them down slowly so I was laying there in my bra and thong. He held my legs up in the air as he took my sandals off one at a time. 

“Nice,” he purred, looking me over with his trademark smirk, but I didn’t care, I just laid there, giggling…

Amber: Gets upset when a strange man sexually assaults her.

Also Amber: Lies there and allows Liam to literally undress and oggle her.

PLEASE PICK A GODDAMNED LANE HERE. I’M SERIOUSLY GETTING WHIPLASH WITH ALL OF THE BACK AND FORTH!

EITHER SHE’S TOO TRAUMATISED TO SO MUCH AS KISS, OR SHE’S A SLUT. SHE CAN’T BE BOTH AT THE SAME TIME!

 I mean, I’d just made out with my brother’s best friend, who is a total man-whore, and who only cares about himself.

Chapter 4 summary: Amber gets ready for the party. There’s this painfully awkward and stupid scene where Liam sees Amber wearing only her towel. He teases and flirts with her, and the entire thing is super gross. 

Anyway, if you’ve ever read any other high school party, you’ve already read this scene. She and Liam sexy dance until Jake comes over and yells at Liam for touching his sister. Then Amber wanders around until she finds some guy wearing a college sweatshirt who claims he’s looking for his sister. He must not be in a big hurry, since he agrees to do shots with Amber. Then he sexually assaults her, but it’s okay since Liam comes over and yells at the guy for having done that. 

Liam then helps Amber upstairs, and holds her hair as she vomits. He then helps her into bed, but she complains about not wanting to go to bed like that, so he strips her down to her underwear. Then he obviously climbs into bed with her. But they can’t sleep, since the party is still raging downstairs. 

Amber gets upset because the random dudebro stole her first kiss. But Liam is like “Oh no, I took that a long time ago!” They then start to make out. Ugh, I cannot. 

Jake then knocks on Amber’s door, basically demanding to know if she’s seen Liam. She lies and says that Liam said that he wanted to leave. After Jake leaves, Amber feels remorse over having made out with Liam, and knows that it’s going to haunt her. 

[candyheart-art]

I redrew my first ever fursona, and the second digital drawing I ever did! His name is Star, and I was like 13. It’s wild to see how far i’ve come

(original under the cut)

I’m gonna get so sentimental for a second. I got my first drawing tablet 7-8 years ago, as a birthday present. My mom and I had talked about them for months and I knew I couldn’t get one until I was 16 and able to get a job (min age in my state), but I wanted one so bad. Before that, I used a mouse to draw. This was made with a little cheap mouse shaped like a turtle, named Sheldon. Back then I knew nothing about color matches, rendering, hell I used black to shade. I dreamed of pressure settings and double clicks to undo, back when I named all my layers. This drawing took me hours, from sketch to lines to color, because I had to carefully move my mouse on my terrible little third-hand laptop, but I had the passion in my heart to do it.

I mentioned on instagram that I quit art multiple times over the years, but I always came back. I think I owe it to little me who dreamed of being able to do what I do now, draw in bed on a screen. I got my first tablet when I was 14 or 15, and my mom was so excited to show me. It was a dinky little Huion S610, and I still have it (RIP the stylus tho), because what a passion I never knew i’d get from it.

Enjoy your hobbies!