#this is based off that one drawing idek

[ajwalkerartblog]

flowers :D

[ammonitetheseaserpent]

HERE WE GO HEHE

- Okay so the first two are Sentinel concepts and this one is. what if there was like… a packleader Sentinel :0 Like it’s bigger and more imposing than the rest - maybe it’s based on the Indoraptor - and it has some sort of software connection that allows it to subtly affect the others. Maybe it can slightly influence & command them to keep them unified against a threat when the need arises, or target a weakened individual to give them a temporary power buff (though these abilities would prob be limited. and so only used when they’re really necessary).

- Second thought: what if there were some Sentinels based on other theropods? For this, I’ve got the idea of one who looks like a JP-style Dilophosaurus, w/ the crests and neck frill and stuff (I just noticed - between this and my Fizzarolli design, I am on a Dilo roll lately XD).

- This one is kinda… uh. out there. And by that I mean it’s basically a sentient blob of mercury named Avarice SOL. Idek how he would work, but… he’s here now.

- OOOOOO oooo this one’s EXCITING. An amalgamation. with the exterior made of a bunch of different parts from Sentinels and DDs and some other scraps, all to form a big bird bot named Cure PHX. There’s a thing they can activate to make their wings glow and give off UV light (doesn’t always work though), a thing they use to like. shut off pain in other bots, and… the guy’s either extremely heat-resistant or uses heat for a power boost (I uh. haven’t nailed down all the details but the overall idea is their relationship to heat & sun is like. pretty much the opposite to that of a Solver/Murder Drone). Their general concept is inspired by a phoenix and the song + music video Starboy.

- I recently re-listened to the song As You Get High by SIAMES and into my mind slid. a stoner Disassembly Drone who for whatever reason can change the color of their lights. And they do this while hunting to create a psychedelic effect that disorients their victims.

Def gonna draw these once the ideas are more fleshed out :D

[pinkmoondoll9shihtzu]

6 month solstice/full moon check-in livejournalstyle

So i've been advised to recap the past 6 months. Especially since this current Capricorn full moon is exacting at 1 degree Capricorn which happens to be the same degree as My Ascendant. (Pinkmoondoll number 1 :@!!!!!)

The Cancer full moon happened at around 5 degrees on december 26th 2023. That is my ex's birthday. On winter solstice 2023, exactly 6 months ago, i cut her out of my life. We were already broken up for a long time before that but i continued to let her stay in my life for a few reason, namely guilt & fear. Guilt because of the emotional turmoil she projected onto me & fear because, well, we are married and i didn't know what would happen to my immigration status if i cut her off. I still don't! This has not changed yet.

Pretty much everything else about me & my life has changed though. internally at least. Having her out of my life has allowed me so much freedom to get back to who i am & live with integrity. The only people left in my life now are ones who are respectful, kind, have their own shit going on, appreciate that i am my own person too, allow me to breathe, don't expect anything specific from me, don't toy with my mind & emotions. They are just glad to let me be who i am. No one tries to control me anymore. i feel so wonderful because no one can control me.

So the past 6 months has been a series of stages of getting back to Me. unraveling all the lies i was fed for years, healing from the pain of being manipulated, feeling that so much of my energy was wasted. Truly truly wasted. i'm not one of those people who can live without regrets lol. i wish i broke free so much sooner, the stress destroyed my health for years. But ultimately, this is how it went down, so i strive towards acceptance.

For the first few months of this year i was really on a huge substance abuse kick! im not gonna specify what, but iykyk. Like i really just could not bear the weight of what i was feeling. Every day i was finding out more and more info about lies i'd been told, stuff happening behind my back. All i could rly do was take pills & tunnel vision into ableton or drawing or whatever. it helped repress my emotions & i got a lot done during this time but it was unhealthy & the more it progressed i saw how unsustainable it was.

around spring equinox shit HIT THE FAN e_e So this would be the quarter year mark. Well it was march 15 when denji ate the ziploc bag and had to get emergency obstruction removal surgery. That immediately halted all projects i was working on. I was still taking a lot of pills to cope with the stress of that situation & at that point i needed them just to function at a base level. Then i think april 4th or 5th was when i found out Sammy died, which...i mean yeah i've spoken a lot on how horrific that was & still remains to be.

I mean , like, that shit, rearranged my whole brain, that shit reset me. this also marked the time period where like... my psychic senses really began evolving. idt it was necessarily linked to sammy's death, it just weirdly shifted around that time. i think the lunar eclipse in late march caused some type of quantum leap idk man idek. Then the solar eclipse in april sealed the deal. Ever since then the craziest stuff that i cant even rly talk about has been happening to me & i immediately felt compelled to like, quit all drugs and just fucking ascend lol.

Sooo first i started w pill numero uno, the really diabolical one, middle of april i just said fuck it, i am done. at this point i had abused it so hard it wasnt even doing shit for me anymore, even when i took tolerance breaks, it was genuinely pointless to continue. i did wonder how the fuck i was ever gonna function without it and i was scared. The final few weeks of april were just a total write off, didnt do shit, totally depressed & grieving & miserable but weirdly hopeful too. Like i knew i just had to suffer and get it over with.

pill 2 was actually pretty easy to cut back on because ive quit it a bunch of times before & know what to expect, and since i was already suffering so bad from pill 1 after about a week i thought yeah i might as well stop the other one too lol. there was no noticable increase in suffering from stopping it. So by the 2nd week of May it had been around 3 weeks of feeling like pure ass but i was starting to feel WAYYYY better and my normal goofy self again.

That is the worst thing about adhd meds for me lol they robbed me of my whimsy and goofiness T_T Like i was so serious all the time T_T it was even kinda affecting my relationship w slimbo. Like i couldnt be affectionate i was just a robot. All i cared about was working and i was so impatient. As i came off the meds i started to remember how nice it is to just be slow, be in the moment, enjoy simple things with my love, not constantly bound to this gnawing neurosis pushing me to squeeze maximum productivity out of every single second.

like i said , i'm 1 degree cap rising sooo this neurosis is something that exists firmly within my personality, for sure. i mean, if u cant tell, I Be Doing Things lol. And i get very competitive with myself. the dark side of me is that i want to be the best at everything. A big part of my adult life has been learning how to relax. learning how to have fun, learning how to be a little pointless. Without the meds this is a struggle for me so with the meds it was genuinely impossible not to be completely controlled by the rabid impulse to work.

So getting off the meds was a big exercise in confronting my fear of Not being the best. my fear of chilling, my fear of being still & unoccupied. But i did it! And i feel so much better. Like holy shit, i feel SO much better.

By the mid-May i was picking up steam in just being able to live again. a lot of the brainfog & physical heaviness lifted. I was still not very productive at art or music, but i was getting really good at not letting that bug me. spending a lot of time working in the garden, got back into yoga, reading, just doing leisurely stuff that felt expansive to my inner world rather than trying to externalize anything. psychic experiences continued to amplify. became interested in tarot again as i no longer felt i was living in fear of my higher self.

after getting off the pills i began feeling really fixated on the notion of quitting weed. Previously this had been genuinely unthinkable to me. Like, me and weed, we were One, every person i'd ever been as an adult had smoked weed, it was weirdly part of my identity, for 15 years i genuinely believed i could not exist without weed, like i would just lose my fucking mind if i stopped. i did not believe in myself.

But as the psychic experiences progressed i felt strongly that i want to go deeper. Previously i had been afraid to go deeper. In that regard i think i was truly afraid of my own potential. I wasn't ready for it, and that's actually fine. A lot of people aren't.. But as May was coming to a close i knew that i was ready, and actually, it was crucial of me to put an end to this. I was enjoying finally having some sense of peace & joy after how crummy it felt quitting the pills , i didn't really want to disturb that state of being, but i also was having that feeling again that i just need to "get it over with".

So when it struck June 1st i was like yeah fuck it. Let this mark a new beginning. as soon as i realize something is no longer in my best interest its almost impossible for me to keep going with it! like i can't live with myself. I guess that's where my fixation on being "the best" can serve me sometimes. if that makes sense.. Like i willllll always end up putting my foot down and saying NO :T

So yeah. it's recent enough that i don't really feel the need to detail how the first 2 weeks of june were sooooo sucky and emotional and generally dysfunctional. couldn't even read or draw or do any minor tasks i was sooo out of my mind. Not much needs to be said about it. i just had to simply allow time to pass. a lot of days spent in bed crying & dissolving.

right around the 2 week mark we went to missouri & this is when i started noticing myself feeling way way better. the whole time i didn;t even think about weed or my symptoms at all. i was so present in each moment and it was so easy to just feel....alive. also had some intense psychic experiences, one of which i haven;t even talked about on here, and i probably wont because its too sacred. The overarching theme between all the experiences i've been having since late march is that they feel too sacred to tell anyone. The high priestess emphasizes secrecy in some matters..

Which brings us to now, june 21, 21 days w/o weed, 3 weeks. I know that sounds like nothing but this has been 15 YEARS coming. that's half my lifespan so far. and now i just feel fine. i got thru the blues of quitting, all the repressed emotions, im sure they'll still pop up from time to time too. but ultimately i am just so fucking relieved to be free of that shit and like, functioning, able to sleep, not riddled with anxiety and self hatred like i was when i started as a grieving baby teenager.

i guess i wanted to write this to remind myself what a monumental shift i have made in my life in the first half of 2024, and how insanely far i've come in the grand scheme of my life, in a relatively short timespan. because i keep getting this feeling of self doubt where i'm like wait... it's almost july and i've barely completed any tasks, i still havent finished my music, wtf am i doing :( But i dont think i was supposed to finish it until i shed all these habits that were causing major roadblocks in my path!

shed my ex, shed pills, shed weed. shed grief! shed self doubt. emptied my vessel & it has allowed room for so much new life to come through. new forces being channeled. my mediumship abilities now are in focus and taking off at an accelerated rate. for the first time in my life i'm not in survival mode. i feel this is my reward for living through it all when i wanted nothing more than to give up for so many years. i prayed for death, every day, i really did. now i am dead! the old me died. and i carry her memory with honor, i carry on the parts of her that wished to remain and be loved, but she is effectively dead.

for the first time in my life i am really proud of myself. i don't feel so competitive with myself anymore. i don't need to prove myself externally. i do not require any validation of my existence. i can sit with myself without feeling extreme self induced dread & despair. i feel worthy even though i am still (from the outside looking in) at the exact same place i was at 6 months ago.

i'm finally feeling ready to work a little harder again, but not because i'm desperate to gain anything from it. just because it's fun, and fundamentally, as stated above, that drive is a part of my personality, a part of me that i love & cherish. number 1 is the magician. the mage patchouli ~~~ the alchemist. create for the sake of creating.

if anyone read this far, thats wild xD but thats dope too.. I guess one thing i'd like for the future is just to inspire people that you can alchemize the tragedies of your life and all the suffering into something much greater than yourself. You can get through it and be happy with your meager little life one day, even if it takes 30 or 40 years, it's worth it to try & worth it to get here. You do not have to wallow in sadness and self doubt forever, even if u see no way out rn.

i'm happy just being me ^_^ i have so much fun when i'm in my mind. bladee voice ~~be in your mind, be in your mind, be in your mind~~. i love how simple everything feels right now. i love how people & entities can come to me because they trust me to receive their messages & understand them. My own projections do not get in the way anymore. I shed so much. I am free. Happy Strawberry Moon everyone.

SIncerely, PMD9

[sardonic-sprite]

hey hey saw ur tags on my six musical bats drawing haha i casted based off colour (this started because i thought steph would look so good in the khoward fit and then i just went, yknow dick in blue, jay in red, duke in yellow, etc etc) but now im wondering what your casting would be?? 👀👀 (also thanks to u and ur friend for the all-caps enthusiasm 🥰)

Oh wow hi! First off please don't think I meant to criticize, I noted Dick Jay and Duke's colors and LOVED it, loved the whole piece! (Six and Bats are so close to my heart lmao)

When I mentally cast it, I boiled each Queen's song down to a main point about their relationship with henry and fit the bats around that based on their relationships with batman (and didn't include Duke :/) so for me

No Way = "You cannot tell me when to quit" = Tim Drake (mostly thinking about RR which has Dick as Batman, but also just Tim giving Bruce no choice in when he first became Robin 😂)

Don't Lose Ur Head = "I do what I want ✌️" = that is honestly so Steph-coded to me. Just bouncing around going off and having fun. Also the whole gang war thing... "I didn't mean to hurt anyone" then she dies...

Heart of Stone = "I know we have issues but I want to make it work" = Jason. Just. Jason. Jason Todd. I can't even. Trust me.

Get Down = "I do what I want, also fuck you" = Dick Grayson. Like don't get me wrong he and Bruce love each other but the vibe of "I don't need you Imma do my OWN thing so long sucka" but then hangs out with the others... Idk made sense to me 😂

All You Wanna Do = "I was supposed to be a *child*" = Damian 😭 from everyone in the league even to Gotham though it's lightyears better and we usually let it go... This is a small tiny child. CHILD. Like K Howard. Playtime shouldn't be over and I think for this one AU Dami has the right to grieve/be mad about that

I Don't Need Your Love = "Lets get this straight, I'm here as a favor to YOU" = Cass. She's so powerful tbh and starts of as Babs's protege, idek for sure how she ended up with Bruce even though I treasure their relationship. Also the idea of her being kinda brushed aside bc she wasn't "beheaded" or "died" (being Robin or smt) but she's still so amazing

So yeah that was my thought process but the looks in your art are FIRE 🤩

[kifu]

Heya thank you so much for the art advice earlier! I was wondering if you had any specific suggestions for programs and/or brushes (you know specifically for someone whose only fine art experience has been in pencil and charcoal 😭) .

I’m currently using iArtbook because it’s free. I know Procreate is probably the most popular program but I’m literally -$300+ in my bank account right now, so that isn’t a current option 😅.

However I do believe you can upload brushes to the iArtBook app, honestly I’m not sure, I haven’t tried but you can edit the brushes in a very similar fashion to Adobe Photoshop. So I’m assuming you can also download and upload brushes. I actually really like this program because it has a similar feel to Adobe programs and as a Photographer I’m very experienced with Adobe (I have an Adobe Cloud Account).

In all honesty I’ve never been a good illustrator (since my main focus in my fine arts education was always photography) , but I find the activity meditative and I’m ALWAYS looking to improve.

(Also I was gonna DM you but cant so sorry for the long question 😅)

Yo, it's all good. No apology necessary.

I can only suggest what I know. I've never used Procreate, and I've never even heard of iArtbook. I'm also one of those that absolutely will torrent my art program of choice. And have.

A long, long time ago (like probably thirteen years), I got a copy of Corel (Coral? Idek anymore) free with the purchase of my Wacom bamboo tablet. I didn't know what I was doing yet and I hated it. My laptop hated it. It was very heavy and lagged big time.

I switch to Gimp, which is legally free and open source. I used Gimp for years with zero problems. You can import a lot of Photoshop brushes into Gimp without issue. Compared to Photoshop and Paint Studio, it's incredibly underpowered. Looking back at the art I made, however, I was not poorly off.

From Gimp, wanting more, I then switched to Photoshop CS5. It was incredibly easy to find and install. Personally, I say screw Adobe, since their current model is subscription based. I hate that. I used PS for yearsssssss, up until last year, I believe. It wasn't too heavy for my laptop to handle unless I used too big of a brush. It allowed me to expand my knowledge of digital art programs. It has way more to offer than I'll ever use. But as i mentioned before, the natural art brushes are ... okay, and the blending tool is awful. I learned to NOT ever use the blending tool because of PS.

Throughout time in my PS years, I switched from a Wacom Bamboo tablet to a Huion pen tablet (three different ones) to a Huion Kamvas 16 Pro tablet. With my family's help, I put money towards improving my art by way of hardware, and each tablet became significantly better. A good tablet will help TREMENDOUSLY, but by no means does anyone *need* to splurge on a screen tablet like the Kamvas series. I recommend Huion. It's hard to go wrong with them. In case that ever tickles your fancy.

Like, I'm pulling examples of art I've done with these programs and tablets, specifically unshaded pieces, to show that the software and hardware doesn't necessarily make the piece.

Now, I'm using Clip Studio Paint because it comes with so many native traditional brushes. Again, the company switched or threatened to switch to a subscription pay, so I have no qualms in resorting to circumventing their purchase page.

I will say, I think I love Clip Studio more than I ever did Photoshop. The brushes are just ... perfect.

Like this. This isn't pencil and paper! It's the pencil brush that comes with Clip Studio. It draws JUST like a pencil and I feel like I'm in my natural element when I get to use it.

If you do decide to use PS, or a program that is PS brush compatible, I'll have to find that set of brushes that works similarly to these.

These pictures both used one of the pencil brushes from that set in PS. The horse was painted with a watercolor wash brush; the human with a chalk brush. It's nowhere near as versatile as what can be used in Clip, though.

But I'm sure you could find many brushes through dA and gumroad to use until you find the one that works for you, too!

[the-art-in-arthesia-is-loud]

Random Ass Trivia Post Because I Am Impatient To Share These...Trivias. Heh.

help girlboythingthemidkthegenderofthepersonwhoisreadingthisrightnow i have a lot of stuff to share here that i could've shared in their own posts but i DIDN'T. utc like always :3

yea hello let's proceed

i shared this before but i'll say it again- technicolour's cube can turn into a dagger if he really needs it to be a dagger. it can also turn into a paintbrush and a digital pen.

spinel went missing on a friday, so on every friday galactic would play spinel's favorite song to: A. mourn her if she's fucking dead, or B. increase her hopes of spinel coming back soon.

^ spinel's favorite song is anything that sounds like the song she's based off of (spinel by penoreri(??? i hope i'm typing that right jddjddjk)).

tempo will never, and i mean NEVER, let trojan near a computer or any device like ever. this is because trojan would just end up giving it a virus if he even touches it. he doesn't know why this happens and he can't exactly control this either.

^ he can still use a phone perfectly fine, though. but he's not allowed to use shit like google or whatever.

for every year on her birthday, pamolia's parents would gift her the same goddamn thing; butterflies in a frame. she absolutely fucking ADORES THEM THOUGH. even if it's the same thing over and over again. ohhhhh the butterfly autism is real for her...... (idek if i'm gonna make her ACTUALLY autistic or not since i myself am Not autistic so-)

as implied in a recent drawing of mine, pupa can turn into a cute lil butterfly if he so pleases :333 but yeah, he did got stuck inside of a jar once. he felt like it was his death day.

if arghena and mantis were to ever meet, abstruse would be horrified over how fucking PINK AND PURPLE THEY ARE..........

primeval has made WAY TOO MANY CONNECTIONS THUS FAR. in her one month of even being conscious on this god forsaken planet she already made like. what. 10 acquaintances. what the fuck. i wish i was like her...

spinel once stole destonio's chocolate bar. needless to say she nearly died.

ana and hikaru get along fine. she hates glaciaxion and finds arta annoying, though.

a lil trivia that is Not related to a character; there might be characters based off of prsk commission songs here. who knows though. aha. ha. ha. ha ha ha ha ha h a h a h a H A .

back to character based trivia: pamolia is a science kid, meanwhile miracle hates science. they're meant to be /hj

no one, and i mean NO ONE can ever impress or even make tessi smile. the only three exceptions to this are callima, world ender, and loveless dress (who i haven't mentioned yet, but hey! she exists! woo hoo!)

^ after she became lacey, that list increased somehow, adding tempestissimo and fate into the list <3

aleph's a perfectionist now, sure, but at least his perfectionism is not as bad as back then when he was still in high school. he would come home from school, stomp into his room, and then have a full on breakdown for just getting a simple 80 on a test....... (this is me projecting)

one time in the past, mantis stepped on a caterpillar infront of larva. needless to say she was fucking mortified.

felis would spill tea everywhere, no matter where he is. lightning screw always complains about it, meanwhile glory road finds it wayyy too amusing to tell him to stop.

hikaru and arta used to be friends! and even know they still are friends! when arta saw the news about hikaru's death, he was absolutely horrified that he just couldn't stop thinking about it for weeks on end.

^ adding onto that, hikaru and glaciaxion met when hikaru was like...11? yeah, maybe. i'll probably dive deeper into that another time, though.

spinel cares a LOT about her physical appearance, because to her, her appearance is basically anyone's first impression of her! so she has to look her best everyday! it's common courtesy!

ok yea i ran out of shit to say augh

[ronin-deactivated19851026]

hghghghhg. looking into social media addiction because i clearly have it (isn't it ironic that i'm writing about it on, well, social media? lmao), and trying to see what exactly i'm struggling with

so far i think my "symptoms" are:

i get afraid of missing out, be it content (this is why i love classic internet where updates were popping up like idk weekly or monthly or idk just paced differently), or... imma be honest, real life events made me addicted to news as well, but i think i'm managing this relatively well these days. or even people: i feel like if i won't "appear" enough times online, i will be forgotten, which is kind of dumb because my friends clearly remember and care about me, they don't need to get bombarded with messages or activity.

i'm oversaturated with the content, which makes me, as a content creator an artist, to feel defeated by the overcompetitive market and utterly unlovable. yeah, i know, i shouldn't value myself based on my skills, but it's an old maladaptive behavior stemming from childhood that i can't get rid of; "first i should grab people's attention so they'd explicitly care about me, then, and only then, i have a permission to have a right to talk to them". art became one of those things.

i do waste my time mindlessly scrolling and procrastinating, and while mindless scrolling is clearly a light physical habit (sometimes i don't even read what i scroll and i hate it, but it's not something i struggle with dropping the moment i notice i'm doing this), procrastination also stems from the previous point cuz like. who cares if i feel joy when i draw, or play games, or read books. it's not worth any attention = i'm not worth attention = no potential and actual new friends = i'm going to die alone (when i'm literally not alone). lmao. how fucking weird it is, that i have piles upon piles of games and books, but i don't touch them because nobody cares about them anymore? same goes to "old" trends less people care about these days. i feel outdated. like, my whole life, whole essence feels outdated.

ok idek what to do with these atm. the addiction itself is clearly not the standalone issue, but a symptom of something else entirely. so it all makes it harder to work on.

i also want to note that researching the topic, i found some statements either neurotypical, or, uh, "generally privileged" for lack of better word. like for example, the idea that preferring to talk to friends online is a sign of addiction. i do enjoy socializing irl, but it's so much easier and less sensory overwhelming to chat online. i also absolutely hate this "just log off and go look for friends irl" yeah, tell me you're socially conforming cishet neurotypical with convenient lifestyle and opinions without telling me you're socially conforming cishet neurotypical with convenient lifestyle and opinions.

i also do believe that people, being people, tend to overdramatize and demonize internet in general lmao as i was researching the thing, i was thinking, damn, these same people probably would say we're addicted to electricity 100 years ago.

either way though, addiction as a whole is deeply tied to the relief, rather than existing in vacuum, which is also, i think, the issue with people who demonize the internet. i know what kind of relief i'm seeking for, i listed it above. but i don't know what to replace my maladaptive behavior with, at least, at this moment.

[firequeenofficial]

Okay, the next few pages are incredible. It's all the writers' versions of HG, and they are incredible. I'm gonna go through all of them cause I love them all, and rate them out of 10.

First up, Kaya's. Tight t-shirt, wait up drawing. Trademark smirk and messy hair. His hand is on his waist, so points for bravery. He's built like an American football player with that chestplate thing they wear (I am not American, idk what it's called). 10/10

Vanyel. He is a torso and a head. He has no arms, but he has a bow. His visor looks like cateye glasses and is giving old white lady with large grey hair and a chihuahua. 10/10

Sisyphean. He is full body, and he has should pad things (?) that remind me of a frilled lizard. He has shin guards, elbow pads and what I hope is a belt buckle in the design of his arrows/logo. He even has highlights! 10/10

Maruu's is in the same style as Doody's and is holding out a HG plushy. I get the idea if you squeezed him, he would squeak like a dog toy. If he wasn't wearing a visor, his eyes would pop out, too. HG himself (not the plushy) has his mouth open in joy, and you can see his teeth and I believe that little dangly thing at the back of the throat, and it's adorable. 10/10

Alice (Not Alice). Unsure if this is the writer's name or if someone else did it on Alice's behalf, or if Alice doesn't want to take credit for it. But anyway, I love it. It's like a cross-stitch/embroidery style which is adorable. More stitches were made at the sides of his head than at his chin, which leads me to believe side burns. He also has an arrow stitched beneath him. I want to try and make him. 10/10 (Edit: I have just seen Alice (Not Alice) in the notes, that is indeed the writer's name. Great job!)

Rainy. This is the first one I've seen that I've thought, "I might have a chance at making him." Though, realistically, it's not much of a chance. His logo on his chest looks like a bow tie, so he's fighting in a tux now, I have decided. He also has ARMS, which are using a BOW, and it looks GOOD. So maybe I can't make him. 10/10

Luna. He has a kitten smile, which is adorable. He has a thumbs up, which is adorable. His eyes are full of boyish whimsy. His arms are full of roguish charm. His quiver is full of arrows. Idek what I'm saying anymore. 10/10

Droid. I love him with all my heart. He reminds me of the 5 minute Tangos that the daily Tango blog does when they've forgotten to do one. He's perfect - he even has a defined split in his hair! He's so cute. 10/10

Zip Zap. He has sparkles around him, but also the classic smirk-and-side-eye combo that leaves Scar looking permanently nervous, so my brain initially translated the sparkles as a nervous sweat xD. He's just top-of-shoulders and up, but he's so cute. You can just about see a little ponytail sticking out at the base of his neck. 10/10

Zephaniah Grains. He's only a sihouette, but he makes me think of the Penguins of Madagascar for some reason - no idea why. Either that, or one singular fanart of the Bad Boys where Grian looks incredibly confused and concerned. He looks like that, even though the only detail present on his face is the visor. 10/10

Dux. He is shirtless and showing off the Skitties. His expression is somewhere between Nice Guy and high off his rocker. He, too, has sparkles around his head. His arms are built like Bucky Barnes'. 10/10

Telk. Now this is more like it. A stick figure - finally, a standard I have a fighting chance of living up to. He has a square body with the logo, a round head with the hugest visor I've ever seen in HG and his smirk, messy hair, and stick arms and legs. He's hanging from a rope with one arm and both legs and holding a bow in his free hand. This is peak HG - very impressive, but ultimately quite useless. 10/10

Jonny Sixteenthdays. He is a head with a single scribble for hair, a visor that looks like the sunglasses on the cool emoji, Scar's smirk, and a thumbs up that looks like a photocopy of the last time I tried to draw a thumbs up. I want to cut him out and carry him around in my phone. 10/10

Second. He's in a wheelchair! The wheelchair has rocket boosters! The wheelchair has spirals on the wheels! His glasses are giving mad scientist, his arms are giving giraffe, his hair is giving Harry Potter. He is everything you could possibly want in a man. 10/10

Briefle. He is standing on a bench, one leg on the seat and the other resting on the back. His one arm is fisted on his hip, his other is flexing his biceps. He is either whistling or making a pouty/kissy face. He looks like one of those guys who tries to act casual when they see a girl they like the look of, but is showing off So Hard to try and catch her attention. All it does it make him look like a prat. Honestly, this is on-brand, especially after that first comic. 10/10

Thello. He has the same vibes as the autism creature, is built like a realistic Effo, and has the hugest bug-under-a-rock eyes you've ever seen in your life. He also has the fwoop hairstyle that certain people go crazy over (I shan't name any names, but if you're reading this, you know Exactly who you are). He is tiny and hidden in the corner. 10/10

I can't believe I spent so long on two pages but I love them all so much. I considered just saying "There's two pages of Scar doodles by the writers and I love them" and leaving it at that, but then I would have missed autism-creature-Effo-Hotguy, and I'm considering sticking him on my closet door.

I love these all so much! The fact that they were brave enough to do this, even those without as good drawing skills, makes me so happy! Keep arting, non-artists! Fill your doodles with joy and whimsy! There is so much love in every one of these, even then ten second ones, and it's amazing. You love to see it!

Okay, I promised I'd do a liveblog of when I read the Hotguy Comics Zine, so here it is! Spoilers to follow, proceed with caution!

Okay, right off the bat, the first page is beautiful! The lighting is so insane, and the contrasting blues/purples and oranges are worked together so well. Also, HG looks so squeeshable, I wanna squoosh his face like a grandmother.

[liarsweapon]

besidesthe first one idk if ima color any of these bc these sketches were primarily my looking at multiple references and trying to copy what i was seeing as closely as possible w the exception of like clothing changes and little things like that but these are the base sketches i got done before my mother decided she needed to control a 24 year old again

last one @folkesange my mom interrupted me before i could figure out how to lineart an ether merm tail slksskks

[othercrossee]

I think its time for me to draw yuu again

[ficsnroses]

❆ —𝑻𝒐𝒚. 𝑱𝒐𝒉𝒏 𝑾𝒊𝒄𝒌 𝒙 𝑹𝒆𝒂𝒅𝒆𝒓.

— 𝑯𝒐𝒍𝒊𝒅𝒂𝒚 𝑷𝒓𝒐𝒎𝒑𝒕𝒔 (𝑫𝒂𝒚 𝑭𝒊𝒗𝒆) —

prompt: you didn’t know it then. that you’d become his favourite toy.

summary: your new neighbour john is quiet, kind, and very handsome. you two hit it off at a christmas party, but...you accidentally give him the wrong secret santa present. a sex toy, of all things. (4k words)

warnings: consensual sex. x f! reader.

notes: heywhoopwhoopskskdfkjl idek what i did here honestly pls enjoy!!!! (please leave comments and take the time to interact! its the only thing that drives me to keep sharing my writing with you.) 

Damn him for lighting a fire inside you, with just a few well-placed words.

…

It didn’t begin with easy smiles or a gentle bump into each other.

Him.

Your move to New York hadn’t been easy on you.

You only wanted to fit in with the neighbourhood. Get to know your mutuals, browse the town.

Mill Neck is quieter, and the people that surround it seem to be, too. There are little to no kids in this neighbourhood. Older people; cultured couples and sophisticated characters. Some your age, some older.

He, seems older too. Perhaps one…no. Two decades your senior, maybe.

The way his muscles ripple down his back say otherwise, nonetheless. He, looks not a day over 30.

You’ve seen him around. Mill Neck falls slightly on the outskirts of town.

Its not tough to graze a familiar face in public. You remember it fading into the grey of the cold, rainy day. Beige café walls and brown leather jacket hung on his shoulders. An Americano; triple shot, Sumatra grown.

Robust, daring.

He takes it black, if you recall correctly.

Bold. Quiet, yet so loud it cuts right through you. A man of statement; undaunted. Straight through your chest, twisting something inside you far too close to the shell of your heart.

It didn’t begin with easy smiles or gentle bumps into each other.

A secret Santa exchange with the neighbourhood was quite possibly the most vanilla thing you’d heard of at the ripe age of your 20s. It’s the perfect gateway to seamlessly melt into the social circles, carve out a place for yourself in this abode far too away from the familiar streets and corners of your hometown.

Be still your beating heart, indeed. Oh, what joy and what surprise.

You drew him.

You’re subtly surprised he had even taken part in the gift exchange. He’s quieter, mysterious, but that oh so sweet smile of his…based on his vibe you can feel little pulses of a yearn spring off him. You think you feel it in his aura, too. A yearn for something…more. Something real, something to feel.

As if he wants to feel deeper.

You’ve seen him working on his car. Polishing wheels, oiling engines. A Mustang 69— very classy, indeed.

You can’t tell if he wants to be noticed.

But notice him, you do. You always do.

You’ve seen him walk his dog, too. He resembles a silent hunter; always sure of his next move, well aware and observant, yet so nonchalant all at once. He’s like a quiet embrace of the dark, following in the shadows. And he wasn’t in the shadows tonight.

It didn’t begin with shy introductions and careful graze of each other’s hands.

It began with a simple smile across a well lit room, pulsing with the life of a party. Merry and bright, muffled Christmas tunes and aged red wine. You stand alone at the open bar, a half empty glass of cabernet in your grip. You’re not quiet one for drinks, it almost felt merely like a prop in your hand to blend into the shadows. Pencil black heels below and a short, long sleeved black dress.

You’re not one to draw much attention to yourself, subtle and dewy with your makeup. A few guys had taken a second look your way, however.

You only looked at him.

And he, looked at you too. On the other side of the room, something amber swilling in his short glass. Whiskey…Scotch…Bourbon, perhaps?

He looks unfairly handsome tonight.

He has no business looking this good at a neighbourhood Christmas party, of all places.

A cable stitch sweater and dark jeans. It fits him in all the right places, titan shoulders and rippling biceps toned to perfection. They bulge when he lifts his arm to take a sip of his drink, and something about the way his lengthy, dark brown hair brushes lovingly along the sides of face causes a pulse of ache inside you…a longing so deep to hear the voice that pairs with the delicacy that is him.

He surely must be taken. What fool could pass on h i m?

You’ve never seem him with a woman, though.

What if he doesn’t like girls?

Ouch.

His eyes find you from across the room and he smiles.

He notices you, too.

A pause.

Then, a shaky breath that only you feel bubbling inside. A few small steps, and the marble below your heels clicks with each small pace. You cut across the distance easily, Red in hand and a smile you wear proudly; you hope he doesn’t notice the way you crumble, just a little bit as he watches you, rising off his seat on a high stool.

“Hi, John.” Was your smiling greet, and you clutch the seam of your purse diligently when he moves in close to you— close, but friendly close. The type of close that sends a warmth shooting down your spine and the feeling of good simmering in your veins.

His voice is rich, deep with a subtle gavel and you find yourself unravel within it as it melts against the shell of your ear. He draws in proximate; a small, friendly kiss to the side of your cheek and a loose one arm hug, with his spare that lacks hold of a drink. “Hey, Y/N.”

He knows your name.

“You look beautiful, sweetheart.”

Word gets around Mill Neck. Surely he’d noticed you, too, when you’d moved here. Asked around, inquired of the new girl with dewy skin and a smile that could bring the sun itself to it’s knees.

The warmth of his body leaves you cold when he pulls his light embrace away, and you swear you feel a simmering fire left in the wake of his friendly kiss. “Thank you.” was your smiling return.

John is a gentleman, you expected a greeting of no less.

You didn’t however, expect to miss him this quick, even if your conversation had not yet even begun.

Your voice is silky, smooth and full of comfort as it slips through his ears. He ushers for you to take seat beside him, confident and inviting in his demeanour. He is charming. “I don’t think we’ve formally met before this?” was his answering chuckle, and you admire the way his dark brown eyes sink into you so warmly. He offers his hand, and you feel a zing of surprise erupt inside you to the larger hand that holds out for yours. It’s big, warm, and slightly callous. You see a few blue veins protrude to his palm, and the girth of his fingers should not have you quietly ruin the way it does. “Jonathan Wick. But I go by John.”

Jonathan. It suits him.

John looks good on him.

“(y/n) (y/l/n).” was your kind return, and the way your hand feels so insignificantly small in his unyielding grip makes your heart flutter with ease.

He sits there with you in low light. Messy, long brown hair and ardent brown eyes.

Handsome.

Breathtaking, even.

A slight twitch of his lips, and a warm smile that creeps over each inch of your skin. “Nice to meet you, Y/N.”

A pause.

The quiet ring of merry tunes brewing off the stereo, muffled by the sound of glasses clinking and people mingling.

He seems to drink you in carefully, and you both smile tenderly each other’s way. There’s a brief pause of silence, and you two stare at each other as time moves around you. Not speaking, not moving. Simply sipping each other in.

You weren’t sure how long you two stared.

But you were, the first to look away. Suddenly feeling exposed under the weight of his sincere gaze. As if eyes as perfect as his deserved to look at nothing less than gold, and you were not that.

Clearing your throat audibly, you place your glass down, a gentle giggle as you draw open your small side purse. With a twitch of nimble fingers and an easy pull, you reveal a beautifully wrapped, small box.

The gift is trivial, perfectly wrapped in white gift wrap with jute twine and a vibrant red bow.

Your voice is oh so sweet, and he savours the sound of it here and now, knowing well that it wasn’t one he could hear often after tonight. “Merry Christmas.” you offer amiably, extending the gift his way. “I was puzzled on what to get when I drew your name. But I hope you like it!” you allow gingerly, watching the way a pleasant smile curls delicately upwards on his lips. “I’m sure it’s not something you need, but I think it could come in handy.” you tell keenly and he graciously accepts.

You were talking about cologne. You bought him a very nice cologne.

Cologne, cologne, cologne.

   Cologne, that now you know, would never see the light of day.

His answering chuckle is rich in it’s build, like a cup of hot cocoa that warms you to the bone.

And suddenly, you’re painfully aware of how handsome his perfectly aligned, groomed beard looks on his face.

“Thank you.” he allows, sincerely. “I’m sure it’s wonderful.” There’s a flicker of something in his expression before he cups the side of his glass, securing it in his grip. “So,” his lips part to speak, and you almost shiver when he asks warmly about you. “What brought you to New York?”

It’s startling. How smooth and focused John’s speech is. How words seem to simply roll off his tongue like scoops of rolled gelato.

There’s something about the way he speaks, the way he listens so indulgently. It feels as if being pushed head first into the deep blue ocean and drowning down, willingly.

You talk for the rest of the evening.

You talk for what feels like hours.

You didn’t know it then, but that evening, something buried deep inside him had scratched its way to the surface. For the very first time in a long, long time.

Your best friend finds you the next day.

Woes on her tongue, a vacant dull in her soul.

She’d told you about her husband who had been away for work for far too long now. A month or two pass, she sips wine alone on weekday nights, dressed in silk for no one but herself.

The idea struck you with a mischievous smiles bloom and a curl of your lips upward. Had someone seen your browse history, they’d surely consider you a sex-starved siren.

A couple hours of cruising behind, and you’d finally found it.

The perfect vibrator for your unfulfilled friend.

A perfect little Christmas present, surely a joke that would erupt electrifying laughs and remembrance for years to come.

The gift is small, perfectly wrapped in white gift wrap with jute twine and a vibrant red bow.

You place it in her hands, and she regards it silently. A flicker of confusion in her eyes, fingertips tracing over the light paper. You watch her critically, a roll of eyes and easy smile curling within seconds. Your expression twists in annoyance and you usher it closer. “Open it!” you urge, impatient, lip bitten with an excitement to her pose.

The anticipation washes over you so forcefully, it nearly crumbles your spine to dust. Her giggle finds you in an piqued frenzy, frail fingers unravelling the pretty rouge bow that sits to the crown of the gift. “Why are you making me open this so early? Christmas isn’t for another few days, babe.”

Your eyes narrow with a smirk and your neatly fold your arms around your chest, eyeing her slow working hands. “Ooooo trust me, you wanna open this now.” Was your chortle, voice low and startlingly dark with its give.

The sound of tearing paper almost soothes you, strangely. It reminds you of how espresso milk sounds when steamed at the local coffee shop, beige walls and quiet comfort on grey days. It reminds you of triple shot Americanos, and a brown leather jacket you only wish you could crumble beneath. It reminds you of…

John—

It’s a sound you won’t forget.

It’s a sight you won’t forget.

The quiet thud of her nails against expensive cardboard. A cardboard box that smelled of cedar wood, bergamot and smoky sage.

Her tone was home to subtle irritation. The last of what you were expecting, but it was well due under the circumstance, nonetheless. “Are you trying to make me miss him more? You got me men’s fucking cologne for Christmas?”

And just like that, the world goes quiet.

There’s silence around, but a loudness inside you. A bang that dwells through you, a heavy drop so startling that for a second, it feels like someone has detached a limb so quickly that the pain had yet to register. But you know. And any second now, any second, any second….

The mortification slowly collects inside. Little by little, blazing through you as it forges a destructive path straight through each crevice inside. The heaviest perhaps, searing in your heart.

Oh,

Oh,

Oh my.

Fuck.

The realization sinks into you. Straight through your ribs, right to your heart. A blade turning inside. Sink. Twist. Twist. And twist.

You feel a searing heat crawl up your spine, to your nape and overwhelmed over your head. Straight to your head and it pierces there and it spins. As if the ground below has tilted off it’s axis.

Her voice had barely registered in your ears. You remember it, though. Drowning in and out, her voice of pry. “Y/N?’” Heavy. “Y/N.” Pounding. “What happened?” Dull.

Fuck.

It was a dangerous play to wrap both boxes, both small, similarly sized boxes in duplicate wrapping.

You don’t remember if an answering phase parted your lips.

You only remember the sear.

The build of a gaping hole inside that seemed to burn through your very chest, and the sound of jingling keys. The sound of keys and a quick pace out the door, your light winter coat barely shrugged on with the trivial weight of that darn cologne in your hand as you made pace to John’s home.

How do you tell your unfairly handsome, kind, stupidly charming neighbour that you didn’t intend to give him a vibrator for Christmas?

You find yourself at his doorstep not long thereafter.

Hands in his dark jean pockets, a fitted white Henley dressed deliciously to his frame. Your words almost die in your throat when you see him. The thin cotton melts along his skin, moulding perfectly to all his flawless dips and toned muscles.

His brown eyes are as warm as the very earth that surrounds.

And you feel a dread so suffocating, you want to run and never look back.

He observes you with an unnerving stare and maybe, just maybe—his eyes are…darker than you previously thought?

He smiles for you, and you feel the very breath in your lungs halt with a hitch. You get lost in those eyes for a moment and just stare. Only until you realize suddenly that he’s still waiting for you to speak.

A shy, unnerved croak. You cannot even lock eyes with him.

“Hi…” a pause. Then, a low, slow pour of following syllables. “This is…embarrassing.” There’s an edge to your tone, and you feel yourself burn with each wearily strung word.

Surrounded in winter cold, you burn. “I wrapped two gifts very similarly…” nervously, you hold to him the cologne. “What you got was not intended for you.”

He only allows a rich chuckle, and it soothes you to the bone. Its reassuring, one you savour as it flows through the winter chill.

His eyes spark with mirth, lips curling upwards and stocky fingers trail through his own messily strewn, mocha hair and he gestures you in with a quiet smile. That same kindness, that special warmth and genuine charm he holds dearly.

Which in hindsight, is the only thing that kept you from leaving right then and there.

You never thought you’d end up there.

You never—

Many people need someone.

Many people have a fuck buddy, too.  

You never thought. That yours, would become the merciless John Wick.

You don’t remember the remainder of that night all too well. Just his answering smile, sharp as a knife. His beautiful eyes burning with need, with want. He’d bared it to you so plainly that it left you breathless. Never forced, never asked. Simply allowed the thought to creep into your mind, too.

Desire coated both your words.

You never thought you’d spend the night there. With him. And that damn vibrator—, curled in his grip as he held it to the pearl of your clit,

His cock buried inside as he worked in sync with the god damn toy.

You don’t remember who made the first move. You only remember the feeling of him.

His sweet lips on yours as you moaned into the kiss, his curious hands traversed over each inch of your body hurriedly, as if he had been trying to map every inch of you as quickly as he could. You remember his heavy stubble scratching against your jaw, glossed over your neck and his nose pressing your pulse as he kisses down the sensitive skin.

You remember the tremble of your fingers as they tightened in his hair, tugging the deliciously silky locks as you pulled him closer.

This darkness is familiar now.

longingly familiar, even.

From darkness comes the presence that is becoming achingly familiar.

The pleasure that is becoming painfully necessary.

In the dark is where John fucks you. raw, tight; forgiving, quiet darkness.

Sometimes in the darkness, it feels like you aren’t even you anymore. He isn’t him, and you are not the two strangers who shyly hit it off at a boring Christmas party only so little time ago.

In the dark you’re only two bare souls. Aching desperately, selfishly for each other. Devouring more and more and more. Chipping away at each other piece by piece. Indulgently, greedily.

He’s catalogued every inch of you—each pleasure point, each curve, each dip.

John invites you over often. And sometimes, you still don’t quite even understand why you go every.single.time. Without thought, without reason. The husk of your limbs simply moves, he seems to conjure you up with a single sinful thought.

     Oh how you love to be Mr. Wick’s sinful little secret.

You’re certain neighbouring faces have seen you slip into John’s home on late nights and far too early mornings.

You think one of them might have seen you and John at the supermarket, too. Not with fresh produce or charismatic coffee origins in your hand, however.

—but with a Morning-After pill quietly tucked away in your grip, and John’s hand comforted to the small of your back intermittently.

He paid for it, too. And, treated you to brunch after; an expensive bottle of red shared between you.

Mr. Wick has a taste for splurge. And, he certainly doesn’t skimp when it comes to you. John buys you gifts often. Gifts he delicately peels off you not long after you wear them for his eyes to see; pry as his hands indulge over each curve and dip of your exquisite body.

He has shown you exactly how he likes it. He has taught you many things.

Mr. Wick, is your favourite teacher.

“Deeper, sweetheart.” His rich voice illuminates the hot air around, punctuated by your choked gags and littered, breathy exhales. “I know you can fit all of it.”

His hand is curled in your fluttered locks, messily strewn with burning tears singing the corners of your eyelids. The hardwood floor digs into your knees below, and the weight of his heavy cock hitting the back of your throat causes a gravelly moan to brew in his throat.

His cock leaves you breathless, no matter which part of you it was slid inside.

You feel him bulging inside your throat, big warm and beautiful; and you feel every fucking inch of him along your tongue, swollen in your significantly smaller mouth that has been trained to accommodate him. You feel each familiar vein, each familiar curve of his shaft along your tongue.

“My pretty little girl.” was his tender whisper against the warm skin of your forehead, and his hand fondled to the swell of your naked breasts on display for him. “Beautiful with my cock in that pretty little mouth.”

His praise makes your breath hitch. And you seem to crumble, when his lips indulge in yours, not long after.

John has taught you exactly how he likes it; exactly how he wants you on him.

With the hardwood burning on your knees, you feel the ache of him between your legs, too, from the night prior. John had been leaving a never ending ache inside you for countless nights a week now. Delicious burns and delicious aches that remind you of him even when he wasn’t around.

You are burning, and there is no relief. Not for a long time.

Not until he finally fucks you like you crave him to; raw, hard, and

heavy.

—

The neighbourhood held a New Years Eve party later in the month.

Neither of you went.

He was, however, your New Years kiss. You rung in the new year with him buried between the sheets, his manhood curled between your legs and his robust hips snapping in and out of you like a fucking dream.

Tight. Sloppy. Loud.

Warm and wet.

His girth is one like no other, and you make him ruin with the way your tight pussy has learned to cocoon him so well. He’d bound your hands to the bedframe above with one of his lavish silk ties that night, and part of you curses to no one but yourself under the rugged mutter of your breath as he drills into you from above.

Had the binding not restricted your free hands from roaming, you’d surely have clawed your way through the rosy flesh on his skin by now. Through breathy grunts and savouring praises, you unravel under him piece by piece as he pounds into you, with a hasty demand for your cunt. Your feeble legs curl around his waist in attempt to draw him closer, and the way he leaves a wetness sprawled to the inners of your thighs makes you whine for him even more, skin glistening under muted bedroom light.

John Wick likes it pornographic.

A string of needy moans slip pasts your lips unwarranted, and you find yourself whimpering; breath stifling with each thrust he rams into you. The chase for relief is strong, and you feel him pounding your pussy sore with each passing second, your own relief building, bubbling inside your mid.

Its in that very moment that you realize the dire truth. An epiphany; a wicked, sinful, immoral one at that.

You wouldn’t care if he ruined you right then and there.

Left you a jumbled mess of limbs.

       He is the type of ruin you’d never mind.

With your hands tied and his shaft savouring the petals of your cunt, you realize your urge to simply allow your arms to crumble around his neck. To hold him, to feel his skin sticking to yours and the pulse of his heartbeat against your skin.

Mr. Wick is warm, and you want more of it.

More and more and more, of him.

Under his touch, you shiver. You shudder, you moan, and you ruin.

He feels warm. Beautiful, and so triumphantly alive when he’s in your arms. It wasn’t often, yet sometimes, as he’s expertly working your body with his thrusts controlled and rough, you find yourself cupping his cheeks with a deep stare into those now familiar brown eyes.

And they make you sigh.

The violent measure of his movements is slow yet so powerful; the sound of skin slapping against skin is one that brings a searing comfort nowadays. Bed frames creak, and his hands plant firmly to the swell of your hips as he makes you his own for the night, your breasts recklessly bouncing to the steady roll he’s conjured up.

The pleasure he gives is always hypnotizing; sickening, heaven and it feels as if he’s poured gasoline all over your body and lit a match.

The wicked smell of sex seems to cloud around you effortlessly, and you feel him in the deepest points of you. A rigid jaw, and grit of his teeth. The feel of his hot breath sizzling in the nape of your neck, and his heavy balls slapping against your sore pussy as if a prayer. “Say it loud, baby. Let everyone know who’s fucking you good.”

His name is one that has begun to roll off your tongue without conscious thought. It is simply a desperate cry, a plead for him to never make another woman his if it wasn’t you.

Your body is his now.

You’ve tattooed him over each inch of it.

John, John, John—

You know you shouldn’t. You shouldn’t. 

He is your secret, and you are his. He needs you, and you need him. Once upon a time, you locked eyes with a beautiful stranger in the midst of a dull Christmas party. Sex was never supposed to become part of it. 

But it did. 

And you can’t stop.

Not when he feels this good. Not when fucks you like he’s dreamt of you and only you for a million years. Not when he touches you—as if you are the only thing worth touching in the entire universe.

You didn’t know it then.

That you’d become John Wick’s favourite toy.

     You’re simply burning, and there is no relief.

     Not for a long time.

Damn him for lighting a fire inside you, with just a few well-placed words.

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[gemapples]

Plz rant to us about how much you love magolor

first of all this ask was so sweet out of the blue and made me smile a lot so thank you :) i appreciate it so much

i was gonna be all difficult and respond like "LOL are you sure" but yknow what screw it im bored and i've done that too often already so !! here ya go. everything i love about magolor

this is probably to be expected (especially bc of how often i draw him lmao), but first!! i LOVE his design. his design in particular just really stands out to me compared to the other characters ig; he has unique aspects to him that are so cutesy and charming yet contradicting and mysterious from how he looks alone. you have lil cat ears obviously but he still wears a hood and scarf so you cant see his face at all and glowing eyes??? damn. i also love his cape it's so flowy and cool AND ALSO i feel like the gear patterns are really fitting to him as well and go nicely with who he is. however, at first glance you might think his main purpose is to be a mechanic or engineer, and while that is true, he's also majorly known for being a skilled wizard, and his name is even based off the word magic. i feel like you wouldn't expect that from his design and that makes it all the more interesting... it's like there's underlying aspects that you get a suspicion about from just how he looks, which i feel is extremely fitting to his character. his design conveys that he's from another world so nicely too i feel,, you compare him to kirby and the others and he looks so different and otherworldly, almost. you can immediately tell that he's probably not from the same dimension or planet as everyone else. he has a ton of amazing concept designs but im glad they went with this one tbh it just. LOOKS the most like who magolor is and what he's supposed to represent imo. i love the others a lot too but !! in terms of his design his current one takes the cake for me

i adore how Absolutely layered of a character he is. there are so many bubbling details beneath him that have so much impact i just. God. him coming from another planet that's practically dead with very little to no life left and him not knowing what friendship is or how it's supposed to properly work, him betraying the others and falling deep into "obsession and hatred", him finding an exit, dealing with the massive pressure and apologizing to kirby, but him still getting up to funny mischief now and then !! you literally never know what you're gonna get with him (some of those might be personal interps but let's pretend they're not (whoopsie)). Just how he's developed and where he's now placed in the franchise,, he could be classified as comic relief yet he's still a main character if that makes sense?? i'm dying on the hill that magolor is a main character even though he didn't appear in forgotten land idc

i like to think he's similar to how bandee was but. also not ig lol idek -- like both of them debuted in one game and were expected to just?? not return??? but they did and became extremely significant characters who have made such a massive change. they could have chosen to cast magolor aside or whatever, say fuck it and kill him off, etc. but instead they didn't stop there and wanted to keep going with his character and give him a huge role. yeah you could argue it's bc of his popularity but i still think thats so cool tbh he just seems so unique compared to the rest of the cast in his own way and its. really interesting to see how he fits in the series in general !! him and his game are literally where kirby lore and more effective storytelling began imo and i think thats. So amazing they really tried to expand and develop the series through his character and it shows how important he is and how significant he places in terms of kirby as a whole

on a related note -- his personality is something unlike any other. they described him as "deceiving while telling the truth" and i think that's really important bc it's hard for you to tell when he's actually being genuine. and that's unique to most of the other characters and makes him feel out of place in a way and.. yeah mysterious !!! even when he apologized after he fucked up, his wording gave the impression like he just seemed to shrug it off like it wasn't a big deal despite the fact it obviously changed his life which also relates to the former thing and fhjkgfh Wow!! ofc dream collection could've taken place a bit after he actually apologized to kirby but y'know !!

also never get tired of the fact that man's ego is the size of the entire galaxy through hell and back . "look at me, i'm such a nice guy right?" I love how he actually Recognizes how important he is and acknowledges // acknowledged how he can use certain situations to his advantage and this may result in him coming off as stuck-up and thinking of himself more highly than everyone else but !! he doesn't care . Plus he's completely aware how strong he really is and just how he can use all of his abilities and skills to his advantage. Yet despite this, you may get a touch of underlying sadness, guilt, loneliness from him... all the more reason he's a layered character :)

extended from the last one but yeah i love how like. Insanely powerful he is and yeah you could say it's bc of the master crown or whatever (probably is lol) but Listen he has such a wide variety of magical attacks and i think it's so cool bc i feel like he doesn't depend on them Too much yet he still shows them off?? if that makes sense?? like he still uses them a lot for things in, say, dream collection for obstacles i don't even know where im going with this LMAO but yeah his abilities are just so !!! very cool like you take one look at him and you think he would be weak or wouldn't have any powers yet he could destroy you from like 40 miles away or something and he's one of the most broken characters in ksa, kf2, etc. mans can summon literal black holes, portals and giant swords that only kirby could previously wield like it's nothing now, if that doesn't make him one of the most powerful characters currently then idrk what does (i remember in a star allies article while describing his ultra sword they stated something along the lines of "did he secretly stash up power from the master crown? or did he steal this ability from kirby?" and while it's most likely the former in a realistic sense could you IMAGINE how insanely strong he would be if he could actually steal abilities from kirby, the most powerful character with the most powerful abilities. Just putting that out there)

said this briefly in the design paragraph already but i appreciate how many things about him can go two ways that usually contradict one another. Maybe i'm thinking too much into it but lol the most obvious one is, ofc, how he acted as a friend vs. deceived kirby but other things too like. How he combines steampunk elements and high-tech elements at the same time which are opposites. as i said he's also a magician which is !! also not something you may see with those two together i believe star allies and his name in general adds a TON of fuel to this bc it confirmed how his name literally means "false paradise" and "wonderful place" if you combine translations which also contradict each other i also like to think that "magic" in his name can also refer to the fact that he's also extremely skilled in certain areas such as yknow. Getting to handle others or outsmart them, seeing things from others' perspectives, or even being a very talented speaker altogether (a magician or wizard can also mean someone who extremely skilled at something. just a fun lil thing)

more minor things !!! but i really love how he uses slang + speaks in a dramatic way, and how that relates to his personality as explained above. no other kirby character says "dude", "beast", etc. which i feel can really emphasize how he's not from their world but it's?? very funny to think about fhdjkgh. I know other kirby characters use katakana in japanese but i believe magolor is the main // most popular example in this aspect(?? lmk if this is incorrect though, i just know galactic nova and star dream use it but im not sure about anyone else) i also like how he heavily emphasizes certain words and phrases !! it makes him seem overexaggerated and even more unique than other characters who may act in a more realistic in a way. All of them are unhinged but they're all unhinged in their own way which compliment each other well and i feel magolor adds a lot to this mix :)

speaking of which god i LOVE his voice. i feel it's so fitting despite the fact it's animal crossing language as it's widely called. like they stated in the miiverse post, i love how they made it seem authentic by making him clearly say "kirby", it does kind of make it seem like he has an accent even in english ig. It's so squeaky and cute and adorable like go off lil man!!!

i think i got a lot of everything lmao i'm sure there's a ton more i haven't mentioned or didn't think to mention but just know i love Everything about him he means so much to me like fucking hell i love this character if you couldn't tell. he's just so Good he has so many things about him yet i feel we haven't even scratched the surface of how much there is. i really think this rtdl novel will bring // brought a whole new light to who exactly he is and what he's worth and i'm always looking forward to seeing him around again :) really hope he'll continue to have a lasting impact on the franchise

(extra bonus: also like his lil salutes)

[mendesbadrepuation]

Why // Druig Eternals x Reader

Loosely based off the song Why by Shawn Mendes. At first I was going to write this with Shawn in mind, but then I thought about Druig and the angst started to stir. So here yens go!

Pairing: Druig x gn!reader (first time doing gender neutral!!!)

Tw: ANGSTZZ, mentions of alcohol, drunk actions and thoughts, probably a little dramatic idek, not grammar checked, was very much rushed :D

A/n: this is my first gender neutral piece. So if I missed a pronoun I am very sorry! I get excited when writing sometimes haha. I wish I could express how thankful I am for each of my readers. Thanks for all the reblogs, likes, and comments. My heart is so full knowing that I touched the hearts of so many! THANK YOU!!

•••••••••••••••

The empty glass bottle sat perfectly on the bar table in front of you. Your eyes were fixated on the small lights reflecting off the glass. Inside you, your mind was a dizzy mess. You caught more than a buzz from the clear liquor.

“Hey! Dane and I are going to find Sprite and then head out. You coming with us?” Her hand delicately lands on your back to draw you away from your trance.

Sersi could see it in your eyes. She could see the emptiness. You put on the fakest smile you could muster up and shake your head softly. “I think I’ll stay here for a little longer.” You reply and swivel around in the barstool.

“Are you sure? Why don’t you come with us and we can stop by your favorite ice cream place.” She proposes. Sersi never liked to leave you here alone. She knew all you did was sit in misery thinking about that boy. That boy had captured your heart with a simple hello. All of the Eternals knew that they were made for each other.

There was one kicker. Both of you two were as stubborn as a bull. One would drop everything in a heartbeat, they just had to say the words. It included turning every other person down, just in case that person was to be with them. The other pushed them away and always said they were no good for them. It never stopped you from pining over his selfish, stubborn, most frustrating ass.

Druig

His name rings in your ear like a siren. His entire profile is engraved in your head and it’s like a piece of you. For centuries he’s never left your brain. For all those centuries you never stopped trying, because you knew deep down he was all yours. He just needed someone to help him see it. To believe that he is worth it.

“You know Sersi, you using my favorite ice cream place as a bribe really never gets old.” You play with her and her eyes soften up. She looks at you like she said something wrong.

You gently grab her hand. “That’s a good thing.” She smiles at you and you watch her grab your jacket then purse.

“Let’s go then. Dane is paying.” She holds her hand out and you sigh in content. Maybe another distraction will suppress it some more. 

Why did your nights always seem to end this way? 

—

Your heart races in your chest as you enter the warm air of Phasto’s house. Ben greets you at the door with a huge hug that makes you slightly relax. However, you knew from the moment you entered this establishment that it was doomed to make you hurt.

New Years Eve. Spent with none other, the Eternals.

All of them.

You were the last to arrive due to your plane being delayed. Several times. You still had that crick in your neck from sleeping on those airport chairs. As Ben walks in front of you to guide you to where the main even was you couldn’t help but feel light headed.

You haven’t laid eyes on him in months. The last time with him you said a lot more than you should have. You knew deep down you should have left it the way it was. 

*flashback*

“At least I’m not afraid of being with someone.” Your words came out slurred, but powerful. It was just you two sitting on that porch. You were eager to break the silence, but you clearly didn’t think things through. How could you? Vodka can really mess with the thinking process.

“I thought we put this behind us.” He sighs and there was a clear sound of frustration in his voice.

“How can i possibly put this behind me? You told me that I’m literally perfect for you, but you are not in a good place. That you were not good enough.” You spit out the words he told you and your heart aches in your chest. Someone was squeezing your heart like a stress ball.

“What would you have liked me to say?” He fires back.

“Anything but that! Anything other than I’m perfect for you. If you want me then take me Druig! It’s been centuries of this.” You lean closer to his body and he steps back. You felt the black hole in your stomach from that move. “I would have rather of you called me ugly and that you hate me.” You say ever so softly while looking into his blue eyes. You were not sure if it was the cold air blowing or actually him. But the tears in his eyes hurt the most.

“You know that I could never.” He says and a single tear ran down his cheek. You felt yourself crumbling.

“Why Dru? Why do we put each other through hell?” You ask him and he just stares at you.

Without another word he brushes past your shoulders and the door closes behind you. You spent a couple minutes drying your tears before going back into the house. You never said another word there and left Sersi’s place quickly.

The memory lingers in your head as you see everyone huddled around. A few were at the kitchen island eating some appetizers Gilgamesh made. The others sat in the living room watching the performances on television. You could already hear Kingo arguing how much better he could do.

You chose not to take a scan of the room, because you knew exactly where he was. His eyes were on you the moment you walked in the room. A million different thoughts intrude his head as he stares at you. You exchanged hugs and greeting with everyone. His heart races and Druig had already been drinking. The cup in his hand was his third. He was buzzed and now he surely was drunk off you. Your entire being had that strong of an effect over him.

The alcohol running through his blood gave him the extra confidence he needs to talk to you. He still wants to be in communication. He knows that you are everything for him. As he takes another long drink he gets up from his seat in the dining room.

You sat on one of the high chairs and a drink nestled in your right hand. People were already asking you questions about your little excursion to the islands. A little time for you to get away and collect yourself.

Druig sits across from you and doesn’t say anything. You make eye contact with him and softly smile. His body goes into a frenzy with that action. How could he ever deny you? He looks at you with the biggest puppy eyes you had seen on him. It’s almost like he was surprised you acknowledged him.

“Hi.” You say, as if you just met him.

Druig’s lips turn up into a subtle smile. “How have you been Druig?” You ask him casually. Your voice makes his hands shake. He thought about how cruel it is to hear you be so casual with him. We’re you over him?

“Doing alright.” He shrugs his shoulders slightly. You nod your head in approval.

The conversation gets reverted back to you and your trip. You told your stories of the crazy things you saw and did. Jumping off cliffs and surfing some high tides. You even were taught so much history there and Sersi had a treat hearing all of that. There was an overall confidence in you that Druig has seen only a handful of times.

Maybe he could do this. He had been trying to better himself for these last few months. He wanted to do it for you. The thought gets shaken quickly. His fear consumed him before he had a chance.

Later in the night as midnight was coming closer the air was getting lighter. Everyone around had caught a buzz and others more than that. Druig was drinking heavily and even you noticed that.

You were so selfish that you couldn’t stop him. The more drunk he got the closer he got to you. He would speak to you like times before. He would be yours. In this state he was all about you.

‘I can’t do this to myself.’

‘Why do we do this?’

Your thoughts were surfacing to the top of your head. It felt so good to be this close to him. He was brushing his body against you and his hands would find yours. That simple touch was enough for you to fall so deeply in love with him.

If you didn’t give him the slightest bit of attention he was leaning over you. His lips close to your ear whispering little things that drove you insane. For a moment you try to cherish this. You wish you could bottle the feeling of it up. Soon he would be sober and all of it would go back to the way it was before.

When the clock struck down to midnight he was there. Right by your side.

His telepathic mind was swimming in high seas. He knew there was things he was doing that were wrong. He couldn’t stop himself now. You were a magnet to him.

Those blue eyes connect with yours again. Anyone that was in the room had vanished. It’s like one of those moments where the whole world feels like it stopped spinning. Neither of you were sure of what to do next. As you kept the eye contact you felt everything. You felt what it was like. The kind of love you read in books, the love you see in movies, the love you hear about in songs.

His hands softly grabs yours. All attention was being held between you two. The others around you were whispering amongst one another at what was happening. They were hopeful for you two. They were honestly thrilled to see you both like this.

There was a ringing in your ears and you felt your heart beat in your throat. Was this it? Was it finally going to happen?

He leans forward and gently rests his forehead against yours. You keep the eye contact and now you feel his hot breath. He was right here with you. The feeling made you want to fly. A boyish smile lands on his lips as he felt the strongest connection he had ever felt before with you.

“Why can’t I admit you’re all that I want?” A whispered voice enters your head and those blue eyes turn to a glowing golden hue right in front of you.

[vergess]

Thank you for having a more nuanced approach to Mrs Westenra's actions today bc while what she did was obviously frustrating and had terrible consequences, and people are understandably upset, this really is on Van Helsing as well for being overly secretive when he should have at least said something, plus at the end of the day, Stoker has a plot to draw out, and as frustrating as it is, everyone's actions make sense, based on their motivations and levels of knowledge. In reference to one of your posts, people are really underestimating how terrible the smell would be with that many garlic flowers and no air circulation, and combine that with the Victorian belief in fresh air, I'm not surprised that, not knowing they were for protection, she threw them out, thinking she was helping, and that things may have gone different if VH had said something from the start.

And yeah, it's frustrating that despite even Seward giving a sympathetic explanation for why Mrs Westenra might be behaving in denial like she is, and this is tumblr, which is usually all about how if someone behaves in a certain way, even a bad way, bc of trauma, it's sympathetic or, in some cases, justified, even when it's really not, she gets more hate than like, fandom faves who commit crimes against humanity bc trauma. And some of the posts about how she deserves to be given a heart attack and killed for being stupid and evil has the same energy to me as people who deliberately give people who can't have caffeine bc of health conditions caffeine bc 'they deserve it' if the person is a jerk.

Yeah, IDK what it is about Mrs Westenra that's setting people off so badly, but she's very clearly intended to be tragic and sympathetic as a plot obstacle.

And my god people are just coming out of the woodworks to fully rebeal the depths of their unquestioned hatred for disabled people, traumatized people, women, mothers, IDEK what else. People are just fully venting their own hatred on the character, which like. Sure, fine, whatever.

Except the things they're saying are so unblievably nasty and constantly targetting her illness in a way that just.

Like.

Seeing y'all say that she should be violently killed for doing something that was seemingly completely harmless or even beneficial is very offputting.

Like, just come out and say you think I should be executed if I make a minor social faux pas that has serious consequences.

Go on.

I'm sure as an autistic person especially, that won't be deeply horrific to see.

[thatduckfacedrat]

Seraph of the End characters reacting to you hijacking a plane

This is so random but I thought it would be funny ;) Also first post

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

This is the plane your stealing

You wanted to get revenge on the vampires because they have caused most of your trauma, most people would think to try and kill all the vampires in every agonizing way possible. But you couldn't do that. You had other plans.

You had decided to steal some form of aircraft from the vampires. Yes, it was a terrible idea of getting revenge but you were board and had nothing else to do.

You managed to sneak out of the base without anyone noticing, actually that wasn't true, you had to knock someone out so they didn't go run off and tell. Then you had to make your to the vampire base without anyone noticing. Heh, good luck. You were smart enough to try and sneak on the base while the were loading up their 'livestock' so they couldn't sense you, it made you sick but you couldn't interfere.

You took your knife that was ment to kill vampires and stabbed one off the nearby guards with the gray cape and put it on. Then snuck underneath the one of the fighter jets wing and waited for the coast to clear .

This part was the part that made you regret your decision, you don't even know how to drive a plane and now your deciding to hijack one!?!? I'm such and idiot, you thought.

Ok get yourself together Y/N, just think how happy your comrades will be, meanwhile Shinoa and the others are wondering were you went.

You peaked your head out of your hiding spot and saw that no one was looking you took a deep breath and ran out from under the wing and hopped in the cockpit and quickly closed the window door. You knew vampires spotted you because they ran over to window and started banging on it, luckily the glass was bullet proof.

(I have no idea how a military aircraft works so this is gonna be really shitty :\)

You turned on the plane, grabbed and pulled the side stick controllers and stepped on the peddle (idek if planes have peddles). The plane started to take off. Holy shit I'm doing it, how you were doing it I don't know. Once you were in the air did you relax, well you didn't, but you did come of little ease once you were away from the vampires.

Taking another deep breath and gripping the controls you now had to find somewhere to land this thing you decided to land on a abandoned road near General Guren is settled. The base was coming in sight you were getting nervous again, you could see people raising their bows, Oh no, they think I'm an enemy as you saw them fire their bows you swooped over and doged them.

The road you planned on landing was close and you let out a sigh of relief. You lowered the plane and the wheels began to touch the ground, letting off the gas completely you began to slow down eventually coming to a stop.

You thought your worries were over but you were wrong, people still thought you were and enemy and soldiers were starting to run over to where your parked. You saw them drawing their weapons. Freaking out you took the gray cape you had on so you hoped they recognize you bit they didn't move. Reaching up to the latch to open the door with a shaking hand, thankfully Guren and the others came running out to see what's going on.

Opening the door and standing up on the seat, you saw a bunch of confused looks coming from the people around you.

"Y/N?" You heard Shinoa ask you, you turned to look at her and responded with a nervous laugh, "That's me...". Averting yours eyes to the ground, you were in so much trouble.

"Y/N, what is this? Where have you been?" You heard Guren ask you with a threating voice. "Well, what does it look like? I stole a plane." You replied with a nervous smile on your face. "This is unacceptable! Now you just pissed them off even more than they already are!" Guren yells at you. You knew he'd be mad but you thought the people around you might be glad you stole the plane, glad that they have a new, bigger weapon.

"I'm sorry..." You whisper.

"What? I can't hear you!" Guren spits out.

"I'm sorry, Ok? What do want me to do return it!?" You say with sarcasm in your voice. "No, your gonna hand over that plane," Hell no, you worked hard to steal that plane and now their asking you to give it to them? All for nothing?

"No! I stole this plane, I'm keeping it!" You were not about to give up now, after how far you've come.

"Step away from the plane, now," Guren says narrowing his eyes at you. "You don't even know how to drive a plane."

"That's not true! I had to get it here somehow, didn't I?" You retorted. That's when you knew you had reached your max with General Guren's temper because he start walking towards you. He stepped on the wing shaft and got to your level and with a swift move, he picked you up and slung you over his shoulder. But kicking and trying your best to wiggle off his shoulder didn't get you anywhere. He stepped off the jet with a thump and started (you assumed) towards his office, spilling orders to others about what to do aircraft.

You were in deep shit.

This is so bad :( but I was board also keep in mind this is my first ever post.

[obligatoryidolblog]

Lost Control - Chan Stray Kids Drabble

Genre: angst

Pairing: Chan/Female!Reader

Warnings: mentions of blood, suicide, alcohol abuse

Summary: idek dude. Sad Chan is sad, and has some addiction issues. I have no clue where this one came from. This is mostly internal monologue and I got a little lost in the sauce with the purple prose. Based on the song Lost Control by End of Green.

A/N: Why do I like hurting Chan so much? The world may never know.

Masterlist

Smoke curled, danced from the end of his cigarette like spider webs twisting in a breeze. Through hazy eyes, Chan watched the smoke spin away from him, slowly dissipating. Something that was supposed to be so bad for you should never be so beautiful. Slowly lowering his eyes, he watched the dim light of the candle bounce off the glassy surface of the liquor and ice in his cup. Again, the amber liquid glowed with a warm, inviting light that was so misleading.

But what does it matter now? He didn't need to pretend anymore. Oh yes, he was so much healthier, wasn't he? He quit drinking. He quit smoking. He had become the poster boy for redeemed idols. But none of it mattered. Raising the cigarette to his lips, he inhaled deeply, drawing in a lungful, wondering idly if the smoke swirled so gorgeously inside of him. His blackened, diseased lungs... were they right now filled with twirling vines of gray? Exhaling sharply with a shake of his head, he tried to laugh at himself. How could he romanticize every fucking thing now?

But he couldn't laugh, not even at himself. The sharp, acrid scent of the alcohol rose, and he thanked it, lifting the glass to wash away thoughts of what he'd done. Shouldn't it burn to drink this stuff straight? He deserved the burn. He wanted the burn. So many things to feel guilty for... where to begin, if not with feeling guilty for loving the taste of this damned whiskey? Already his limbs were leaden, his mind a lovely, loose blur. The blur may be black and red, but at least his pain wasn't in clear, sharp angles anymore.

Staring down into the glass, he watched the flickering light swim through the golden fluid, sparking on the edges of the ice. Why had he given this up? Why had he turned from the warm, swaddling arms of alcohol? Yeah, it made him make shitty choices. It made him act like an idiot. It pissed people off. It hurt people. But honestly, was that any different from how he impacted the world when he was sober?

At the edges of his mind images tickled his thoughts, images of fans, images of his bandmates, images of those that trusted him. Fuck, he shouldn't be the one they looked to. He was no one's idol. He didn't deserve that adoration, those friendships. So why had he continued? Selfishness, plain and simple. Tossing back the last of his drink, Chan thought of how he felt on stage, with so many eyes on him, surrounded by fans and faced with mass waves of love... he needed that. How did normal people get their self-worth? When did he become concerned with 'normal'?

When he met you. Of course.

Everything had changed that night. It had been gradual; he'd hardly even noticed. But you'd twisted his world into knots. Gripping the glass tighter, he refused to turn, to look at you. Had he ever really loved you? Or had he loved your devotion to him? Had he loved that you made him feel like a real person, worthy of everything he had? Did he ever even really know you? Clenching his eyes shut, he told himself that none of it mattered now.

Slowly, he set the glass back to the table. No, he wasn't going to turn around. He was going to light another cigarette. Never mind that he was holding one. He wasn't going to turn around. His hand wavered as he moved to stub out the smoke, and he reached for the pack, aware of the wide, glassy eyes boring into his back.

A drink. He needed another drink.

He placed the cigarette between his lips and fumbled the lighter, his thumb slipping off as he tried to strike it. He noted that his hands were still wet, still red, still shining. Wasn't blood supposed to dry and flake off of skin? Perhaps the sweat coating his skin in a grimy film was keeping it damp. Hurriedly, he wiped his hand on his shirt, puffing on the cigarette between his lips. Yes, it was clean now. And he could reach for the bottle, the clear glass marred with red handprints.

Shakily, he lifted it, noting the musical sound as the liquid rang through the glass, clinking the ice cubes together like miniature bells. Yes, this was the beauty in his life. So fitting. For every speck of splendor in his something or someone, there was twice as much danger. You'd taught him that, hadn't you? Unable to stop himself, he turned slowly, seeking out the face that so many journalists and paparazzi had deemed to be near perfection. That exquisiteness hadn't meant much to Chan, other than one more thing to prove that he was what he pretended to be. His lungs constricted, his chest flaring in pain as his eyes met yours.

Was he ever what you'd dreamed he would be? For him, you'd been the completion of the image he'd wanted so badly to portray. Oh, he'd convinced himself that he loved you. But did he?

Chan supposed he loved everyone. He loved the world. And because of that, he tried with a sort of desperation to be what the world wanted. Being alone, unloved, that was his deepest fear. All Chan had ever wanted was affection.

But he'd never deserved it. Your glazed, blank eyes drove that point home. Perhaps he had loved you in some way... they say you always hurt the ones you love, right? And he'd obviously hurt you, wronged you in some great way.

Slowly, his eyes drifted down from yours, taking in the whole picture you made, the carefully constructed scene you had laid for him. Your celebrated figure, wrapped in some gauzy material that was now fouled by the scent of death. So meticulously had you draped yourself over the couch. So precisely had you made the incisions on your wrists. The planning in your end was so clear and so complete, down to the flawless waves in your hair... you'd set it all out for him like a painting. All of this... but no note.

No explanation. No critique of whatever terrible sin he had committed against you. Chan realized he wasn't breathing as he took in the still life he'd come home to find an hour before. A shuddering breath filled his lungs shallowly, and he slowly rose, stepping closer.

What had he done to you? How had he failed? Sitting on the edge of the couch next to your body, he reached out to finger the end of a lock of hair. You must have realized who he truly was. The sad, pathetic man he was deep beneath the veneer of wit and fame and talent.

He was sorry, so very sorry that he had failed you. You'd merited far more than he could ever give you. And now it was too late to make it up to you, or to even ask why you were so... damaged by him. Pressing his lips together tighter, Chan shook his head, his heart constricting again as his vision became more clouded, this time by tears rather than alcohol.

His eternal quest, the need to prove to himself that he wasn't the sorry excuse for a man he knew himself to be, it had all led to this, explicit proof of just what he'd known all along. Everything he touched was tainted. He was that miserable, unworthy fuck that he'd tried to run away from his entire life.

Letting the drink slip from his hand, he whispered an apology to you, then stood. Absently raising the cigarette to his lips once more, he studied your eyes again, staring back at him in blank recrimination.

He couldn't do this anymore.

He couldn't ruin another life. He couldn't get on that stage one more time and lie to the world. Wiping the moisture from his eyes with the back of his shaking, sweat-coated arm, he mentally apologized to you once more, then turned and opened the door.

Without even shutting it behind him, Chan walked out of his room and down to the road without a glance over his trembling, hunched shoulders.