#try again kinder. try again until you're kind. again until it's the right thing to do. again again again

[vagaland]

(try to anyway)

[avocado-writing]

Hello! Might I ask for the lovely bg3 guys hearing tav say they're love them in the middle of an argument please? Take your time!

Astarion

Who knows what you're arguing about. It could be something sincere (his ascention) or something inane (he took your soap without asking, again) but it still slips out all the same:

"You're lucky I love you, or I'd be really angry."

The two of you stop and stare at each other for a moment, before you let out a strangled little sound and exit the conversation.

Astarion is baffled. He wasn't expecting that. Except, he sort of was? He's been trying to get you to fall for him after all, so why does it feel so... nice to hear you say it? And why does he feel so guilty?

The two of you move on like nothing's happened for a while, the tension bubbling between the two of you, until eventually he can't take it any more.

The two of you are on watch one night and he blurts out, "I love you too."

You stare at him for a long moment, he's never felt smaller. "Are you being serious?" "Yes. I am."

You look so relieved. He brings you into his arms and the two of you stay embraced for the rest of the night.

Gale

It's like you're arguing about the bomb inside him.

He's arguing it's the best solution to your problems, you're telling him that he needs to care about himself more. You're getting so frustrated that tears are starting to sting hot in your eyes.

"I wish you loved yourself like I love you, Gale."

Ah, you didn't mean to let that slip out. The two of you let the quiet sink in. You go to move away, his silence crushing, but he reaches out to grab you - not hard, but enough so that you stay.

"You love me?"

Tears come, inevitably.

"Of course I love you, Gale, you utter fool."

You can see he wants to argue about that but for once just takes the insult, pulling you into his arms so tightly you feel like he'll keep you there forever. Yes, he is a fool for not seeing it earlier.

"I love you too. You are the most precious thing in my life. I'm sorry for worrying you... and you're right, of course. You're always right."

You sleep in his arms that evening, and the Netherese Orb is never mentioned again.

Wyll

Oh, Wyll. Why would you be arguing with this sweet, kind man?

Maybe you're begging him to try and get out of his contract with Mizora, take back hold of his own life again. He's arguing about duty, what he owes to Baldur's Gate.

"I wish you'd think for once about what you owe to me, Wyll. To yourself! I love you!"

His mouth falls open, he's flabbergasted. When you try and escape he doesn't let you, following you into the forest where you run, calling your name.

Eventually you slow down enough for him to catch you and bring you in for a sweet kiss, then press his forehead against yours.

"I love you too. Of course I love you. I hate that I ever made you feel anything less than my absolute priority. You are always the first in my heart."

The two of you sit down and have a long, healthy conversation about talking things out as a couple. Making decisions together. At the end of if you come out stronger, united as a team.

Halsin

Halsin is probably the most laid-back on this list, it's hard to think of something you'd really argue about.

It comes down to this: you aren't taking care of yourself enough. Not eating properly, sleeping properly, sharing your burdens. You are trying to shoulder it all.

He keeps telling you that you need to be kinder to yourself - you keep snapping that he isn't in charge, he doesn't know what it's like. He tells you he cares about you too much to see you in pain.

You're angry at first - who is he to tell you what to do - and then you're just sad; burying your face in his chest.

"I love you too much to argue with you, Halsin," you whisper, and his heart melts.

"I love you too, my heart. Let me take care of you."

He cooks you dinner and makes sure you eat it all, draws you a bath and helps you wash. His fingers are magic. He lays down with you on your bedroll and lets his body warm yours, keeping you tight against him, only drifting off himself when he is sure you are sound asleep.

[actual-changeling]

rough season 6/one son study because i couldn't stop thinking about it (again). it's pure angst as usual.

held between rooms (G // ~600 w.)

— — —

Scully lingers in the doorway, her fingertips brushing against the handle, and no matter how desperately she forces herself to move, her body refuses to.

It's not like she hasn't walked out on him before—she has, angry and upset and so, so scared, but never without intending to return. Now, she genuinely doesn't know if there's anything to return to.

Mulder has been burning bridges faster than she could rebuild them, ash is coating her lungs and sours the taste of every breath, and yet a part of her would gladly rather remain caught forever in the aftermath of a forest fire than leave it all behind.

You're making this personal drips onto her skin like acid, eating its way through her flesh right down to the bone. He doesn't believe her, doesn't want to believe her, the trust he had in her is gone and Scully still doesn't know why.

What did she do that made him hate her so much? Or no, not hate. She wishes what she's finding was hate, at least it would tell her there's still something left. Looking into his eyes reveals absolutely nothing, and his continued disinterest hurts more than any anger ever could.

Tell me to stay, she begs within her mind, waiting, floating in space, holding the door open just enough to feel the cold air on her heated cheeks. Tell me you want me to stay. Tell me anything at all.

Nothing comes. Not a single word reaches out to her, and the tears she's been holding back finally spill over, scorching their way down her face. She is done begging for scraps, but then what else is there to do except hold up her hands and catch whatever she can? What else is there without him?

Anything, please.

Eventually, her feet begin to move. The door falls shut behind her, and Scully keeps walking until she reaches her car, until there is no light left, until she can climb into the driver's seat, rest her arms on the wheel, and hide her face while she cries. She wonders if he has even been listening enough to understand what she's been telling him—that she won't be coming back.

That this is closure, or as close as they are ever going to get to it.

Give me something.

She waits and waits and waits. For feet on the asphalt, for her phone to ring, for his voice calling out to her, for Mulder to chase after her the way he always has up until now.

She waits. He walks away, and she watches him draped in shadows, invisible to the world. When she swallows her pride for the life of someone else, he comes. It doesn't change a thing. Fate keeps them together, and he still does not ask her to stay. She stays anyway, because what else is there to do?

Tired of running, tired of chasing, tired of being tired, and forgiveness is the path of least resistance, or at leasts she hopes that it is. She lives her life in a doorway, waiting to be pulled back inside, pushed out, for a hand in hers. For a kind word offered with kinder eyes.

She tells herself to love whatever he builds around her because what else is there to live for? They're never going to get out of the car, this is what she gets, what she's freely given, so she might as well stop trying.

It's enough because it has to be. It's enough to hide a spark of hope and tell herself that one day, it'll live and grow and burn everything down, allowing them to start all over again. Familiar ash will cover her skin like snow, and it tastes bitter, it tastes like love, it tastes exactly as it always has.

And it always will.

[turtlecleric]

Venty thing set in the bayverse, Raph is mentioned but no turtles show up

CWs: Implied depression and suicidal ideation, hurt no comfort

Hm.

-

Maybe it's because you haven't been sleeping much lately. Actually, it could be that you haven't been doing a very good job of taking your medicine consistently. Yeah, maybe- but you've only missed a few doses. Work is stressful, sure, but that's nothing new.

Whatever the case, it's 5:00 in the afternoon, and you've yet to drag yourself out of bed. Not because you've actually been resting, no, but there's just... something weighing you down. Something holding you here that you can't name or explain very well.

You consider reaching out to one of the guys. They always make you feel better - at least, until you say something stupid and ruin your own mood. But you... you don't really want to be around anyone right now. Especially them. They haven't seen you like this. At least not when it's been this bad. No, better to wait it out, you think. Wait until you can actually make yourself smile. Wait until you can at least act like a normal person.

You feel like you've spent most of your life waiting.

Your phone buzzes shortly. An email, maybe. Or some random app notification. You don't care enough to check.

You feel gross. Maybe a shower would help. But if you're going to shower, then you might as well work out a little first. That's supposed to help, too, or so you've heard. Hasn't yet, but maybe it's the kind of thing you have to do over the course of several months? Or maybe you're just... doing it wrong.

Sometimes it feels like you do everything wrong.

You sigh and roll over, staring at the light filtering into the room through your curtains. For some reason, you wish it was darker outside. This feeling, whatever it is, when it's dark out, it feels... well, not better, exactly, but. Easier? No, that's not right either. More understandable? You don't know. But you wish it was darker all the same.

Surely there's something you can do to feel better. It's been months of this feeling, though, with very little reprieve, despite everything you've done to try and push through it. Trying to keep a positive attitude. Trying to be kinder to yourself. Trying to distract yourself and take steps to avoid isolation when things get dangerous. Trying, trying, trying, that's all you ever do is try. You're tired. Tired of feeling like this, tired of pretending that you're h-

Crying again. You're not sure why you started. You're not sure why you can't stop.

You wonder if Raph ever feels like this. If he ever has days where it feels easier to stay down. Probably not. He's never been one to stay down - not in the time you've known him, at least. He'd probably be able to push through this like it's nothing. He'd probably be disappointed in you for not being able to-

No. You're being overly critical again. Putting sentiments in other people's heads when you've got no evidence that that's what they think. You can't possibly know what Raph would think unless you actually ask him - and that's certainly out of the question.

Still. Maybe you could... text him. It would distract you for a little while, at least, from the gaping maw that is your chest.

You roll over again and reach out, fumbling with your phone. Shaky hands. You should eat.

Maybe later.

You swipe away the notifications that have gathered. Nothing of importance, you note. No one's messaged you. The emails are all spam. Just a bunch of random shit, like you expected.

A voice in the back of your head whispers that if Raphael wanted to talk to you, then he would have messaged you first. You push the thought away, reminding yourself that relationships are a two-way street. And just because someone hasn't reached out doesn't mean they don't want to talk to you at all.

Still. Your thumbs hesitate after opening the text thread you've got with him. You... don't even have anything to say. Not really. There's nothing you feel like talking about, you just- you just want-

You don't know what you want.

You lock your phone and toss it to the side. Maybe you'll message him later.

Or maybe you'll go into the bathroom. And stare at the medicine cabinet for a while.

[waters-and-the-wilde]

okay speaking of wrestling and also apropos of 'Rita drags him in by his tie', I was previously having Thoughts about imminently post Got His Ass wherein Rita is bound and determined to drag Nureyev kicking and screaming back into being family again so uh. scenario.

Rita corners Nureyev for A Conversation after they Get His Ass, like plot resolution denouement loose ends and stuff where he's in the clear debt-wise, made his peace with Slip however that looks, he and Juno Have Talked but they're like just on the other side of Having Talked. like Things Are Okay but also everything's just so raw and they're being So Careful with each other, it's like the early days on the Carte Blanche again and it's hard to shake the feeling that any more disturbance is going to topple whatever they're trying to rebuild

so Nureyev is just. his whole brain is full of fire alarms. he's vibrating in place like a greyhound that just got picked up at the shelter after it got spooked and ran away from home. this time he has no high ground as the injured party, he and Rita have known each other for a year now so there's a lot less of her initial 'sniff out the new beau' hesitancy, and sure he knows Rita well enough that it's obvious she's not gonna up and Ruin Him on purpose when she wholeheartedly volunteered to get him out of the mess he was in but still. she's the most unpredictable person he's ever met, he has no idea how this is going to go.

like logically he knows that he and Juno are working shit out and logically he knows that Rita's kinder than the people in her life deserve and might continue to tolerate him, but ultimately she's Juno's best friend who might well just be about to give him the mother of all 'you're on thin fucking ice' shovel talks, like she can't possibly still approve of him anymore right??

so he's scrambling to do preemptive damage control, he's throwing everything he's got into trying to Fix This. going on about how he knows what she must think of him and how sorry he is and that all he has to say for himself is that he only wanted to keep Juno safe, that he couldn't bear the thought of dragging him down with him, not when he was free and their family was together and he knows he should have ended it when Juno asked him to and he just wasn't strong enough and Rita's like. yeah that's nice i know Mista' Nureyev, hey can I tell you what I said to Mista' Steel when he told me about leaving you in that hotel?

and Nureyev shuts up and braces himself and nods very seriously and then she's like, actually you might wanna take off your glasses for this, and now he's extra confused and possibly even more terrified, and she waits until he's put them in a little case and set it on a side table and then there's just kind of a blur and a whole Rita NYEEERRRRRRAAaGGHHH!!!! noise and WHOOMP

pillow to the face

(for context. in my brain. I sorta presume that Juno told her about what happened with Miasma at some point in the aftermath of Newtown bc he owed her an explanation about both times he went missing, and yes she was glad that Juno didn't run away on an adventure across the galaxy without her but she knows a dick move when she sees one and also probably has the full context of baby Mista' Steel's self-sabotaging romantic choices (Juno said there was a whole thing about him walking out when he was with Diamond so I am assuming that Rita was privy to any number of related incidents over the course of those years). finding out that he passed up the chance to run away on a romantic adventure with the mysterious and dashing gentleman who he'd been mooning over for month, who was apparently also smitten with him the whole time and saved his life and tried to take care of him when he lost his eye?? she waited until he was staring into the bottom of his glass and then started whaling on him with a pillow)

anyway Nureyev doesn't get a chance to do much except yelp and sputter and get his arms up before she whacks him with the pillow again. and again. and starts yelling like 'YOu! are! such! a! big! dumb! baBY! Just! 'Cause! YOU! Think! People're better off! Without you! Don't make you! All! Noble 'n stuff!'

and he gets with the program pretty fast, which is to say that he's just on the floor letting her do her worst because that's just what's happening now

'alright I yield! I surrender! have mercy your honor!'

'DAMN! RIGHT! YOU! DO! DidN'T! Captain! Mom! Teach! you! aNYThInG! Big! Stupid! Tough guy! Tryin'a! Do it all! Yourself! We're! S'posed to be! FaMBLY! Now you're! Stuck with us! FoReVeR!!'

tackles him with the pillow. starts tickling him. both of them are shrieking. he vaguely registers that Juno has appeared and is slouching in the doorway 'my love i beg of you call off the attack i'll do anything' and Juno's like 'sorry honey i'm a little busy' and is holding up something that is probably comms-shaped and 'Nooooo, Juno how could you, JUNO SINCE WHEN DO YOU KNOW HOW TO RECORD THINGS'

(and the thing is Nureyev was just letting it happen because he assumed this was catharsis for Rita's sake and sure it's not not for Rita getting it out of her system but she processes things pretty fast you know? and she runs out of steam and goes off to get a snack and he's just there on the floor with his hair in his face kinda punch-drunk and Juno sidles up and sits beside him and whoops turns out Rita found the Release Feelings Valve and Juno's like 'yeah she does that. went a lot easier on me but I think that was mostly because I'd just gotten out of the hospital when i told her about all that.')

(a couple months later Ruby turns up to scoop Jet in the nick of time from a dangerous raid on Dark Matters and he asks what it's been up to and it pulls up the footage that Juno copied to the databanks. he gets a good kick out of the fact that Rita was on the same page about the whole 'he is solitary and overconfident and alone he can only fail' thing and that she got the opportunity to address it in the most rita way possible)

[teadreamsims]

With the passage of time came changes. Misael swiftly moved out after Fern declared her intentions for divorce, the two of them agreeing that they would share custody and the twins would spend 4 days a week with Misael, 3 with Fern. While it seemed unfair upon first glance, the children would be spending Fridays and weekends with their mum, meaning she'd get lots of one on one time with them when they weren't in school. Meanwhile, Misael got them on most school days and agreed that, at least while Fern was trying to make a career for herself as a baker, he would handle most of the costs for raising the boys. Just until they were both able to equally split the costs.

On Fern's due date, she got an unexpected but very welcome visitor.

"They kicked! Oh my god, did you feel that? They know their Aunty Desiree is here!" Desiree's sheer joy and excitement made smile fondly.

"They also know that their escape is nigh. Soon they will break free from their flesh cage and burst forth into the world."

Desiree pouted. "Way to make it sound gruesome and horrifying."

"Is birth not gruesome and horrifying?"

"Ah, true." Fern's best friend stood up straight and the two of them moved to the living room to chat, plopping down on the sofa. "Are you still intending on letting Misael be in the room with you when you give birth?"

"Well, yeah. He's an asshole and he's put me off the idea of relationships, but he's still their dad, you know? I don't want to kick him out of the ward and later down the line have my kids thinking he didn't want to be there or that I banned him from seeing their first moments in life."

Desiree pulled Fern into a gentle hug, careful not to pull her about too much. "You're much kinder to him than I would ever be. He didn't deserve you, you know."

The baker laughed. "Dad tells me the same thing any time his name is even mentioned. I think he kind of blames himself for what happened."

"What? Why?"

"He just wishes he'd made us wait, take our time before rushing into marriage straight out of high school. We did everything all at once and I think Dad feels guilty that he encouraged me to go through with it even though he never like Misael," Fern explained. She tried not to get emotional when thinking about her dad and his reaction reaction the divorce. Despite his disapproval, he'd still grown to tolerate and even trust Misael a little. Now he was blaming himself for not intervening, even though he did the right thing by stepping back and allowing his daughter to make her own mistakes.

Fern was determined never to make that kind of mistake again. She was going to raise her babies and focus on them and her growing business. Relationships could come later when they were grown up and didn't need to depend on her ad much anymore.

Just as she was thinking that, she felt her legs and the sofa beneath her grow wet and jumped to her feet, Desiree staring in astonishment.

"I think my waters just broke."

[waywardstation]

yeah I was taking a break, still taking it easy though but I am amazed by all the content you've shared while I was gone.

Wonderful art AND an AMAZING animation!

I was surprised and not surprised. From what I have seen from you I know what you're capable of but I didn't expect anything this soon! The fact it looks like it can loop is also so well thought out. Trapped in an cycle with Jörmun. Ember evolving. Ingo commanding both Teams as Akari searches her Satchel. The tension building up until the "chomp" cutting to red.

Also a lot of bravo and wow for Jörmuns animations. You can feel the power of this huge Garchomp right out of the animation. The movements radiate so much power, speed and strength. It's breathtaking. You know that things are serious even without the context of what has been established.

Also hoping the dream anon gets their eyes on these.

I already know I will be having these scenes playing over again in my head when I'll be reading the part when it comes out (no rush pls, take all the time you need, good things need their time) the fact that you plan to finish it eventually... this is yet another thing to look forward to in time. So many treats to look forward to. I don't know how things will go on a personal level but knowing there are treats on the horizon no matter how long it takes is something giving me motivation to see through them.

And the art you've shared last month has also been fun and sweet. Even if updates aren't as frequent as they used to be (which is fine and valid) they still have the same positive impact like they used to.

And while I am still not doing too great they do their part and sweeten up things. A little thing to make a difference, thank you so much!

Hope things are great on your end, that you've been able to rest and have plenty of good times! Also always remember to be hydrated and well rested!

In regards to the animatic I made for I Won’t Leave You Behind

WOW, thank you so much for such kind words, friend!! I’m really glad you appreciate it and took time to leave such a nice analysis on my animatic choices!!!

I’m especially excited to get out the parts for Ingo commanding both teams. At one point, he will essentially be pairing two Pokémon together for attacks (to ensure one can make an opening for the other) to try and get an advantage on Jörmun, while Akari is trying to find something useful. The double battle style will remind him verrrry much of someone else and their specialized battle tactics.

I’m really happy you’re looking forward to it!! I know things have slowed down a lot around here; while posting anxiety has gotten really strong, the biggest issue is that a variety of health struggles have really sapped my mental clarity, and my will to imagine anything creative lately. I am still working on a lot of projects as I do enjoy them, but the process is pretty hard and slow right now.

I oftentimes feel bad about how little I’ve posted lately, because I’ve been greatly frustrated with my delayed process — I somehow used to be way more active back when I was also juggling university!!! So it really does mean a lot to hear that you really like what I HAVE put out, and that you find them fun and sweet. Genuinely, thank you so much ^^ <3

AND LIKEWISE FRIEND!! I know things have been tough lately and I do hope things become kinder to you as soon as they can; I can see you are very strong for dealing with everything you have, and I’m happy you’re still getting through it. I hope lots of positivity and rest and relief finds you!! I am very happy to hear from you again ^^

[grieverled-moved]

𝐄𝐀𝐂𝐇 𝐈𝐍𝐇𝐀𝐋𝐄 𝐈𝐒 𝐇𝐄𝐀𝐕𝐄𝐃 𝐈𝐍 𝐏𝐀𝐒𝐓 𝐒𝐇𝐀𝐊𝐘 𝐋𝐈𝐏𝐒, 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐓𝐀𝐍𝐆 𝐎𝐅 𝐖𝐇𝐀𝐓 𝐓𝐀𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐒 𝐋𝐈𝐊𝐄 𝐈𝐑𝐎𝐍 𝐅𝐑𝐄𝐒𝐇 𝐎𝐍 𝐇𝐈𝐒 𝐓𝐎𝐍𝐆𝐔𝐄 𝐈𝐍 𝐀 𝐋𝐈𝐍𝐆𝐄𝐑𝐈𝐍𝐆 𝐒𝐓𝐀𝐈𝐍. It takes him a moment, but with a shake of his head, he finds himself able to stand steady again, both legs lacking that strained quiver as he shakes off the last of his adrenaline. Fighting was what he was used to, but overexertion was always a pain to deal with when pushed so far.

Meeting the girl's stare, he doesn't immediately notice right away that her eyes are a differing hue, mismatched but gleaming in their honest concern. Kind, but he'd never been the trusting sort, so he brushes it off, slipping his usual mask of composure in place, peering into questioning, curious sights with a card of his hand through mussed bangs.

❝ Didn't know if you could fight or not. ❞ Squall answers. It’s gruff even in its honesty, but he’s trying. Despite more then knowing it wasn't best to judge a book by their cover, his limbs forced him to move, to react, to help & protect before the monsters had attacked first given their target's lack of a reassuring reaction. He jumped the gun & moved without thinking. She didn't seem to see them coming - in his defense, she likely wouldn't have until things were far too late. Even so . . . Sheepishness bristles along his skin at the question, prompting a sigh as he leans to the side.

( ' Or maybe I jumped to conclusions & shot my energy in the process. ' )

With a soft internal curse, he peeks back the strangers way, something vaguely apologetic flickering like candlelight behind his eyes. His next response, while still curt & to the point, is uttered with a far kinder note to it.

❝ You're okay? ❞

*INBOX CLEARING. 📨 ➤ @spiras-summoner [ ; ] ❛  are  you  protecting  me ?  ❜ //hello ^^

[ferny-berny]

Directionless

The idea of picking a direction has always been intimidating. So much so, that I've become accustomed to just standing still and imagining where the all the paths lead instead.

When I was younger, there was always so much bouncing around in my head that i felt perpetually tired. It confused me because here was my mom working entire days on her feet, somehow never really complaining about the work, and I couldn't get myself to even fully engage in a hobby?

My theory is that I have had entirely way too much time to think about the world around me, rather than living in it and building off of those real world experiences. I can't say I was sheltered, necessarily, because I've had a diverse range of people enter my life. However, in many ways I chose to isolate myself. This was facilitated by social media and the fake sense of connection that that world lends itself to. Despite an awareness that not everything online was true, it still made waves in the way I interacted with the world.

My best friend in high school was a social butterfly. The way she navigated her socials felt like second nature. While I struggled to find a single selfie worthy enough, she had already posted and had the stream of heart eyes in her comments. It wasn't even that I didn't think I was cute or anything (the baby face was strong but I embraced it), there was always this invisible standard I felt I had to follow.

It was always me stopping me. There is a slight ache I feel for her. That version of myself that didn't quite know herself, but the fear kept her inside her shell for so long. I am so grateful that my love found her eventually. it's not easy being young and though I don't miss it... I can't help but wonder what things would have been like if I had just been kinder to myself.

My life is, once again, taking a turn I did not expect. If you told me exactly a year ago that this is where my life would be, not only would I not have believed you but I'd think you were purposely trying to make me mad.

The future is uncertain, but that is a good thing!

It can be difficult to recognize the good among the chaos, but it's always there and the more often you highlight it, the happier you'll be. In the moment it is literally impossible to see how everything will come together, but it does.

Lead with trust. What is the point of wondering what if? There is already life in front of you that doesn't require you to ask "if". It tells you the answers if you are wiling to receive them. That's why it's funny that everyone says they want that and then seek out almost exclusively what makes them feel good. The fear of discomfort can leave us in a state of stagnation.

What good does it do me or the world to keep my ideas inside my head? I am committed to using my voice. That is, like most things in adult life, my responsibility.

Sometimes it takes so much to speak in public over my thoughts that I don't realize how soft my voice comes out. One of my biggest pet peeves is having to repeat myself because it feels like the other person isn't listening. And sometimes it's that, but sometimes you really just can't hear me. So, I want to literally speak up. Make sure that I am being heard by those who care to listen.

Thank you for listening. My dreams of being a writer will never die, so I might as well pursue them. It's just so easy to get distracted with other things, especially when you're scared of doing the thing.

The path I've chosen is providing more structure and a foundation to create upon. It's good to stay humble and let it happen. There are things that I must detach from in order to move forward, but I want to lean into my strengths instead of hiding behind my weaknesses.

For the first time since I left the diner, my life has some kind of current again. You can never really know if something is right or not until after, but I am trusting myself. Now and from here on out.

[twilightcitysky]

So you're Aziraphale, angel of the Eastern Gate, lately angel of an antique bookshop in Soho, even more lately exile of Heaven, and it doesn't seem like you've ever gotten anything right. You thought you knew what Truth was because it was written down, but when it comes to living with that Truth you find that you can't; you can't allow Heaven OR Hell to hurt people like that. Your reliable black and white turns to shades of grey, over and over again until you've lost everything you ever believed in-- except Crowley.

Crowley crept up on your heart; you hardly noticed until he handed you a valise of books in the ruins of a church, but from that moment on he became your anchor. It scares you, because he's supposed to be everything you stand against, but you figured out a long time ago that he's kinder than Hell, more merciful than Heaven, and better by far than either of them. It scares you more because your association puts him in terrible danger. You get notes when Heaven is upset with you, but he gets the kind of correction you successfully keep yourself from thinking about until you take his place in Hell and see what they do to their own kind, just for fun.

After that, you think: never again. You don't know much for certain anymore, but you swear on everything you are that he'll never go back to Hell.

At first, it seems like you've gotten away with it. You're spending time together, and he's taking off his glasses more, and you call him every day and he comes... maybe he's still a little distant, a little tense, but that's to be expected and you're getting there. Baby steps, you tell yourself. After all, he waited for you. You want him to feel safe. You need him to be safe.

Then suddenly he's talking to a demon. He moves his plants into his car and won't say why, claims it's a new gardening technique but you think he's lying. Gabriel shows up, and you start to realize you've been living in a fantasy world-- Heaven and Hell won't leave you alone. There's no escape from them, and they will never stop. The bookshop doesn't keep you safe. The Bentley doesn't keep you safe. It seems like demons are everywhere, and you're so frightened; you've never been brave. (Oh, you do what you have to do when you're back's against the wall but that's different; you've been terrified every time.)

Demons kill one of your human acquaintances, a shopkeeper whose only crime was attending the party you threw (because you thought some romantic dancing would finally make Crowley see what you've been trying to tell him for four years now. Selfish. Stupid. Another thing you got wrong). You've put the humans in danger, you've put Crowley in danger, and there's nowhere to hide. There are angels and demons in your home, threatening your very existence.

You realize it's hopeless, that you'll only get a little more time, and you look at Crowley because no matter what happens, no matter how soon they take everything from you, you need him to know that you love him. You have to tell him now.

But then-- in walks Metatron. He effectively declaws the angels, and he offers you a sweet drink, and maybe he's not such a bad guy after all. He offers you safety-- but not just for you. He says you can keep Crowley safe too. If you're both angels again, and you're in charge, nobody can hurt you. More importantly, nobody can hurt Crowley. He'll never have to go back to Hell. You'll never be parted again.

Of course it's not exactly what you wanted, but... shades of grey, right? Crowley taught you that. Sometimes you have to compromise. And it doesn't matter, really, if Crowley's an angel or a demon; there's really no difference between your kind and his (Crowley taught you that, too).

You're so excited to tell him. You can finally be together. You can protect the humans, help the world grow and flourish, and have the power to change Heaven for the better. Okay, it means losing the bookshop, but that's just... things. You'd give it all up for the chance to be with Crowley forever.

He says no.

He doesn't want to go with you. He doesn't trust you to make a plan that will help you both. He's so angry. But then he says he wants to run away together, and you have a flash of hope: he gets it, now, finally. "Come with me!" you say.

He puts his glasses on. Tells you, "Good luck."

But... "I need you!" You're actually begging. Please Crowley. All I've ever wanted was to protect you. And protect this Earth.

He throws it back in your face. You've spent so many years thinking about how to keep Heaven and Hell from destroying you, and finally you have a chance, and he says... he says he understands better than you do.

Fine, then.

You start to cry. You'll have to go alone; you can't stay here and continue to put him in danger. It's what you've always done when it seems that Hell is closing in on him-- you distance yourself to save him. It's the only thing you can do now.

He kisses you. It's full of rage and hurt and bitterness. You can taste salt on his lips. And it scares you, how much you want it anyway. You've wanted it since 1941, after all.

But.

You've imagined this a thousand times, and each time it was soft. It was the start of something, not the end.

You want to tell him you love him, but what does it matter now? So you say the only thing you can say: "I forgive you".

I forgive you for taking the chance to be an "us" away.

so you're anthony j. crowley, long-time exile from heaven and recent exile from hell, and you've finally figured out that the mess of overwhelming and infuriating and intoxicating feelings you've been harboring for the only being in the universe you've ever been able to rely on might, whoopsies, be something a little bit like love. but not love the way you remember heaven loved you, or the way they told you god loved you (they lied), but love like the humans do it: messy, and awkward, and incongruously infinite, and so, so fragile.

and, well. okay, you think. this'll be horrible. embarrassing for both of us, probably. but i'll tell him. you've never been a coward, no matter what the other demons might say. screw your courage to the sticking place, or whatever. macbeth. aziraphale loved that one.

so you talk yourself into it, you gather every scrap of courage and honesty you've got left, and you say, all right, angel, i've got something to say, only aziraphale's got something to say, too, and--

aziraphale doesn't love you back.

or. he does, but he loves the ghost of the angel you used to be, not the person you've made yourself since. he loves you, but he loves you like god did--loves you good, and quiet, and dull. he loves you without your grief, or your anger, without even that first bite of the apple. he wants you like that again, he says. defanged, like the Antichrist's domesticated hellhound.

(you worked for hell for a long time, and for god for a long time before that. you're intimately familiar with what it is to offer someone everything they've ever wanted, and then to twist it, to mutilate it, into an unrecognizable hell of their own choosing. you're not sure why it surprises you anymore. you're not sure why you keep letting the surprises hurt.)

and so you do the thing you've done since the beginning, because you've never been able to stop yourself: you push. you push hard, and you grab him, and he's so angry and you kiss him and you don't think about it, don't think about it, this is the most important temptation of your life, the only one that's ever mattered--

and he forgives you.

so you leave. at least that way you can do it before he does. you've always been a step ahead and to the left; stupid to think this would ever be different. stupid to think he might choose you, with all of heaven and earth spread out in front of him. nothing lasts forever, not even the stars.

he told you that a long time ago.

[junepsycho]

do i kill myself to move forward? is the death of my past self the only way to live and move on? i don't want to. i don't want to do anything. i want to be a rock. i want to exist without any consequences. let me be a grain of sand. i hate it. i hate it all. i hate the ugliness and the beauty. i hate the things and the people. all of it. why do I have to love if it's gonna hurt? why do I have to speak if I'm gonna be shut up? i hate everything. living is just pure pain. all kinds of it. physical hurt, emotional pain, headaches, stomachaches, heartaches. every moment of bliss is just that. a moment. then it's gone. never to be seen again. let me die a painless death. let the world be rid of pessimistic ol' me and progress ahead. fuck everything and everyone. it all sucks. fuck me too. the world is shit. i am the world. fuck you too. fuck our feelings. they don't mean shit. nothing makes sense. one man. one fucking man. he's gone and it ruins the lives of so many. i wish i had no connection to anyone. when i die, i die nameless, in peace. no one mourns for me. no one sheds tears over a stupid boy. one man is all it took for me to turn like this. do i write both sides of the story?

his death gave birth to the most contradicting boy ever seen. he hated everything and everyone on the inside, but always helped when someone needed a hand. so kind, so fragile, so raw. he takes words as they come and nothing more. he gets hurt so so so easily. his heart aches for every little thing. imagine loving someone with that aching heart. he grew up around women and girls, but the world expected him to be a man. the only other man in his life didn't like him. hurt people hurt people. he had so much potential, dare i say he still has it. he gives up easily. very easily. his self-worth, confidence, esteem, all of it, thrown out of the window when he was 6. always second place. always the loser. conditioned himself to think nothing was meant for him. god had forsaken him since his birth. cruel cruel god who gives a baby such a shitty mindset. i wanna die. get it over with. no i don't. there's so much i haven't seen yet. he's lazy. always procrastinating. i don't know anymore. words blah blah blah blah blah. mr complains-a-lot whose life isn't bad at all rn, but it used to be and in some strange way, he conditioned himself into thinking a bad life is all he deserves. whose gonna read all of this lol? no way you're actually reading a sad boy trash post on Tumblr. right? other than her, no one else would be able to find this long post.

her. ughh. life was so fucking ughhh and tears and loneliness before she came in. then she comes in with her stupid smile and her stupid eyes and her stupid kind words and her stupid lovely fingers and her stupid personality. out of nowhere btw. when you first waved at me, i thought your blue hair was stupid. funny how your hair's the most beautiful thing i can think of now. you came into my life a sports car. i never realised when you ran me over with your words. i became your friend because you were a girl, and girls were always kinder friends to me then guys. you pushed your way into my life. i didn't realise until later that i was pulling you in too. it's all a hazy memory. when i think of you, i think of your fingers in mine, on that park bench, in february. i was never obsessed with you from the start. it grew over time. like a forest. genuinely, you get prettier day by day. she's my saving grace. the only reason i haven't ruined my life yet. the reason i keep trying and trying and trying to be better. i change myself so much. yet I'm still too flawed to be deserving of her love. when i look at myself, all i see is a broken boy. what does she see? all my ugly emotions, what does she think about them? she isn't mine. i have to get that through my head first. she's not yours. she belongs to her family, her friends, her oh so close friends, to her books and her music and her interests, to herself, and not to you. you're just a resting place she can come to anytime she wants. you're a refreshing sip of water in her marathon. nothing more. and it'll end. whatever little part of her that you think is yours will go too. either by death or by choice. all you have is me. june.

time waits for no one. we'll be the tides of the ocean and the tree roots in no time. just a few hundred million years. I'll get to be nothing. a rock. Stardust.

i will start learning classical piano. to forgive myself. for my death and my rebirth. to realise that the first paragraph is just thoughts in my head. they don't mean nothing. that i can be better. be better. better. be better be better be better be better be better better be better betty bought a bit of butter but the butter was bitter so betty bought some better butter to make the bitter butter better. be fucking better moon.

[shadowynn]

I honestly get that the guys are not supposed to be good guys, and there are yandere themes going on... But I do feel for joong (and the rest) in the beginning of the chapter. It won't be fair for us to judge them in the same fabric as how we would humans, no? So... Yes, they might not be the best, and this is very toxic, but I do get where and why joong is coming from. And one has to take into consideration that they are trying to give mc space, so yeah, they do skirt the line but ig that's that. Wooyoung on the other hand... Yeah again, I get why he wants to access her memories, but that's something that definitely crosses that line so I'm actually glad the others were against it 🥰🥰

OoOoO, who's acting after so many years? Seems like they have history with ot8~ I agree with mc, they don't seem to be human oop— I get that mc is... Scarred and has had history that makes her not trust them... But I do kind of find it unfair that she's like "who's the real them?" I mean, not everything has to be black and white right? They can be both, the bloodthirsty daemons on the battlefield and the way they are in front of mc. It's not like they wanted the war anyways, it was the humans who did not agree to peace in the first place.

Oop— we're seeing HJ's mother soon aren't we? I'm kind of excited for the ✨spice✨ that she'll bring to the story hehehe (*cough*k-hotchillipeppers*cough) honestly though, I wish mc was kinder to herself T^T I FEEL BAD FOR HER ASDFGHJKL... Loved the chapter as usual, especially the little moment mc had with Jongho hehe~ 🥺🥺🥺🥺

(*peeps from behind the wall and waves before returning to the abyss of assignments* ~Sky)

ajfkl;jdal;kfjdl;kajflk;jda

you have no idea how excited i am right now. literally made my entire weekend hearing from you!! i hope life has been easing up on you and your assignments haven't been treating you too badly. literally sending all my love and all the motivation i can summon your way!! you've got this!! <333

i am right there with you with feeling for the guys. whenever i first started this piece, i didn't have their backstory fully fleshed out yet, so while, hongjoong's father was always going to be a terrible person, his effect on the others wasn't something i had thought of until i was writing chapter eight. and now, man, i have such a soft spot for them, like legit, i couldn't complete that chapter without joong getting a hug at the end.

as for the attackers, well... they're actually characters i also didn't plan on in the beginning, but an idea that came later that i'm actually really excited about and something that i feel is going to be really fun writing. i love the main character i have planned and am excited to delve more into it all here later on. (i have such a hard time keeping things i'm excited for secret, so you have no idea literally how much i just want to gush/talk ideas with you and others. but i will stay strong, no matter how hard it can be at times)

i really like you're take on mc. one thing that i've been trying is to make sure mc also has their own faults because sometimes i'm really bad at making my characters too mary sue. as much as i want them to be perfect, i know they can't be and having faults in a character makes them them. mc may be a kind person at heart, but despite all she's done for the daemons, she still harbors prejudice against them because of her upbringing and the daemons in front of her are so different than everything she's had engrained into her her whole life, she struggles to make sense of it all. just as the humans have made her feel less than human, she also has a lesser view on the daemons, so seeing them as real, complicated people just like her is almost strange and she can't help but feel like it's all an act based on her upbringing and past. ( and yes, both sides tell a very different story as to how the war actually began and why it continued on (always blaming the other). both leaders on both sides (talking joong's father here) lied to their people about it. so, while the guys might now the true history of it, mc doesn't and it certainly plays into her feelings/thoughts about them.

and, you have no idea how excited i am for joong's mother. originally she was going to be dead and seoyun was going to be the one adding *spice* but then i had a better idea for seoyun and kind of gave her original personality to his mother and i think it'll be really fun to delve into it.

as always, thank you so much for your wonderful thoughts and feedback. i always love reading and discussing it all with you. once again, wishing you all the luck on your future endeavors! <33

[viiridianfields]

face  still  burning,  sakura  nods.  "this─"  he  gestures  at  his  body,  "─is  yours."  he  doesn't  know  what  umemiya  finds  attractive  about  the  human  equivalent  of  a  highway  collision─  so  disastrous,  yet  you  can't  look  away.  that's  the  kind  of  body  sakura  has.  but  it  feels . . . awfully  nice  to  be  wanted.  and  not  just  by  anyone,  but  umemiya.  "i  don't  have  much-  well,  i  mean,  i  don't  have  any  experience.  but  i'm  a  quick  learner."  it's  a  skill  that  drives  his  peers  up  the  wall.  sakura's  always  the  first  to  understand  a  newly  taught  concept,  formula,  just  about  any  class  lesson.  "i  promise,  i'll  make  our first time  good  for  you."

if  it  was  anyone  else asking these questions,  sakura  would  say  something  came  up,  he's  busy,  gotta  go,  bye.  but  sakura  draws  in  a  breath,  and  anchors  himself  by  holding  onto  umemiya's  hand.  "it's  the  student  council.  best  of  the  best  in  our  school.  meaning  they  come  from  the  best  families  too."  people  who  go  through  life  solving  anything  with  money.  sakura  blinks.  if  the  roles  were  reversed  and  someone  did  something  heinous  to  umemiya?  keeping  his  gaze  ahead,  the  light  in  sakura's  eyes  frost  over  into  glacier  ice.  his  mind  spins  a  million  things  he  could  do. 

but  maybe  this  is  where  they're  different─  umemiya  wants  sakura's  input  before  he  does  anything.  meanwhile  sakura  would  move  forward  regardless  of  umemiya  being  willing  to  give  answers  or  not.  the ends justifies the means, or however the saying going. sakura  lets  out  a  slow  breath.  "you're  kinder  than  me.  a  good  person."  sakura  feels  himself  falling  deeper  for  this  boy.  at  the  same  time,  sakura  wonders  if  he  can  measure  up,  or  even  meet  umemiya  halfway.  "if  they  try  anything  again,  i'll  take  care  of  it.  even  if  i  get  expelled,  i  can  still  go  to  furin."  sakura's  already  taken  expulsion  into  consideration  for  his  plans.  and  furin  will  accept  just  about  anyone  regardless  of  their  records.

"w-wh-wha─  m-"  his  tongue  skips  like  a  record  player  needle  jumping  erratically  over  a  vinyl.  "marriage?"  it  comes  out  soft,  dreamy,  abundantly  full  of  hope.  leaning  against  umemiya,  he  asks,  "so,  you  mean  i'd  get  to  make  dinner  for  my  husband?"  he  sounds  more  awed  with  each  word  until  breathing  in  deep. his  lungs  are  about  to  collapse,  because  they're  overwhelmed  by  the  weight  of  joy.  sakura  looks  at  his  own  left  hand. for  once,  he  can  imagine  something  good  on  this  damaged  body.  laughing  brightly,  sakura  asks,  "so,  who's  gonna  propose?"  his  heart  swells  vastly  at  a  future  where  he  gets  to  be  umemiya's  husband,  partner  for  life.  "cooking  together  sounds-"  sakura  pauses,  searching  for  the  right  word.  a  word  he  doesn't  know  much  about,  but  has  heard  of,  "─fun?"  cheeks  still  red,  sakura  struggles  to  hide  how  smitten  he  is.  "i  wanna  make  all  your  faves."

sakura  stares  widely  at  umemiya.  "i  can─ reach  out  to  you  when  i . . . ?"  he  doesn't  doubt  that  he'll  have  some  heated  nights  alone,  his  mind  full  with  thoughts  of  umemiya.  and  because  apparently  he  lacks  a  filter  right  now,  sakura  tilts  his  head  innocently,  and  asks,  "maybe  when  i  ride  a  pillow?"  if  he  ever  gets  worked  up  enough  to  do  anything,  that's  his  usual  method.  he  can  draw  it  out,  take  his  time,  savor  the  experience.  it  only  occurs  to  sakura  a  moment  too  late  that  maybe  umemiya's  joking,  and  not  actually  expecting  sakura  to  reach  out  for  something  like  that?  "i  mean─  of  course,  it's  only  if  you'd  want  me  to.  if  not,  that's  like totally  cool."

the  embrace  is  silent,  but  sakura  hears  so  much  of  umemiya's  hidden  pain  as  the  older boy  holds  him.  sakura  makes  sure  to  hold  him  tight,  one  hand  between  those  shoulder  blades,  his  other  hand  in  white  strands.  he'll  always  holds  umemiya  for  long  as  he  needs,  as  he  wants.  it's  clear  from  how  umemiya  carries  himself,  and  talks  about  people  that  he  gives  so  much  love.  sakura  wants  to  give  him  just  as  much  love  back,  even  more.  "you  matter  so  much  to  me,"  sakura  whispers  near  umemiya's  ear.  "i'll  always  hold  you."

oh.  oh,  no.  it's  not  until  umemiya  says  good  boy  that  sakura  realizes  how  intensely  he  craves  it.  only  because  he  leans  against  umemiya  does  sakura  not  surrender  to  gravity,  all  the  tension  evaporating  from  his  body,  making  his  bones  pliant.  exhaling  shakily,  sakura  presses  his  face  against  umemiya's  shoulder.  everything  umemiya  says sounds  so  tempting,  so . . . peaceful.  "you-?  can  you─"  heart  pounding,  sakura  finds  the  bravery  to  look  up  at  umemiya,  and  ask,  "can  you  teach  me  how  to  be  good?"  his  entire  life,  sakura  wants  to  be  good.  but  learns  very  early  on  that  someone  like  him  is  inherently  bad.  or  maybe  not?  sakura's  gaze  falls,  looking  at  umemiya's  hand  in  his.  how  would  that  hand  feel  around  his  neck?  "you  can  claim  me  any  time  you  want." sakura  presses  a  kiss  onto  umemiya's  shoulder. 

it's  not  that  sakura  doesn't  believe  in  umemiya.  but  it's  like  being  told  the  sky  isn't  blue  when  umemiya  talks  about  all  these  different  kinds  of  fights.  isn't  a  fight  just  a  matter  of  obliterating  your  opponent?  destroying  them  so  they  can't  ever  hurt  you  again?  "when  we  fight,  don't  go  easy  on  me."  sakura  pauses,  then  adds,  "please."  so  he  doesn't  sound  arrogant  or  haughty.  maybe  it's  fucked  up  of  him,  but  sakura  wants  to  feel  the  full  impact  of  umemiya's  attacks.  just  thinking  about  the  bruises,  abrasions,  scratches  he  may  get  from  their  fight . . . for  the  first  time,  sakura  looks  forward  to  such  injuries.  maybe  he'll  even  get  a  scar  from  the  love  of  his  life.

if  it  wasn't  for  his  iron  control  over  holding  his  composure,  sakura  would  do  a  double  take.  sakura  not  pay  for  anything  if  he  lives  at  the  group  home?  what?  the  boy's  mind  is  already  rapidly  crunching  numbers,  just  like  it  does  with  any  place  he  ends  up  living  at.  maybe  sakura  can  privately  speak  with  the  man  who  runs  the  group  home,  sit  down  and  talk  business.  just  so  sakura  doesn't  strain  the  group  home's  expenses.  "thanks,  hajime.  and  yeah,  i  think  it's  good  getting  to  experience  what  it's  like  living  together  before  we  have  a  place  of  our  own."  he  blushes  at  the  thought  of  them  making  out  whenever  in  umemiya's  bed.  "y'know  at  this  rate,  i'm  gonna  get  greedy  for  kisses."  sakura  smirks,  raising  their  clasped  hands  to  kiss  umemiya's  knuckles.  "only  kisses from you,  of  course."

there's  a  whirlwind  of  emotions─  enamored  as  hell  over  umemiya  already  being  such  a  doting  boyfriend,  delighted  excitement  over  the  chance  of  wearing  umemiya's  furin  jacket,  and  brewing  nervousness  over  a  bullseye  being  painted  on  umemiya's  back.  what  if  people  start  going  after  umemiya?  or people umemiya cares about? what  if, what if─  the  worst-case  scenarios  abruptly  stop,  because  sakura  loses  breath  over  umemiya's  warm  smile,  the  bright  light  in  his  eyes,  the  glowing  hope  as  this  boy  talks  about  the  future.  that's  right,  sakura  has  nothing  to  be  scared  of.  he'll  just  fucking  destroy  any  threats  before  they  can  even  think  about  hurting  umemiya.  "yeah,  i'd  love  eating  lunch  with  you  at  school."  blushing,  sakura looks  at  him  shyly.  "and  wearing  my  boyfriend's  furin  jacket."  sakura  looks  over  umemiya,  sizing  him  up,  but  for  a  different  reason.  "i  think  my  oversized  clothes  would  fit  you.  like  t-shirts,  sports  jackets.  do  you  wanna  wear  any  of  them?"

heat  rises  on  sakura's  cheeks  when  umemiya  compliments  his  hair.  but  underneath  the  flustered  joy,  haunting  questions  simmer─  if  sakura  had  normal  hair  and  normal  eyes,  would  umemiya  still  want  him?  how  long  until  the  novelty  of  his  freakish  looks  wear  off?  but  umemiya  promises  him  the  future,  whether  it's  sooner  like  walking  sakura  to  school,  or  later  like  having  a place  of  their  own.  sakura's  heart  ricohcets  around  his  chest  with  unease,  but  he  just─  he  needs  to  stay  here.  in  the  present.  and  trust  umemiya.  luckily,  sakura's  spiraling  stops  early  as  umemiya  kisses  along  his  jaw,  and-   "oh,  fuck."  sakura's  breath  hitches  at  the  feeling  of  that  hard  arousal  brushing  between  his  thighs.  "you  already  feel  so  good,"  he  gasps  near  umemiya's  ear.  "and  so  fucking  big."

sakura lets  out  a  flustered  laugh.  "to  be  fair,  you  got  me  feeling  riled  up  too."  just  seeing  umemiya  shirtless  would  be  enough  to  slam  sakura  with  a  freight  train  of  desire.  so,  sakura  doesn't  stand  a  chance  standing  here  in  the  shower  with  him.  "but  don't  worry─"  he  flashes  a  boyish,  playful  grin.  "i'll  be  on  my  best  behavior."  sakura  lightly  pecks  umemiya's   cheek.

"you're  doing  amazing,"  sakura  reassures,  closing  his  eyes,  and  sighing  softly  as  umemiya  washes  him.  "thank  you  for  taking  care  of  me."  the  wounds  on  his  body  don't  flare  up  and  sting  as much like  they  normally  would.  even  once  they're  both  out  of  the  shower,  the  air  doesn't  viciously  bite  at  the  injuries.  "with  you,  it  feels  like  i'm  home,"  sakura  whispers  moments  before  their  lips  meet  in  another  kiss.  he's  about  to  follow  umemiya  to  the  bedroom,  but  when  he  sees  umemiya's  back─

there  it  is.  like  faraway  points  on  a  grid  finally  converging  into  one,  sakura  sees  what  truly  matters:  "hajime."  this  boy.  this  moment.  the  two  of  them.  what  will  happen  to  them  tomorrow?  a  year  later?  a  decade  in  the  future?  sakura  doesn't  know  and  doesn't  care.  even  if  there's  catastrophic  heartbreak,  sakura  will  not  give  up  the  precious time  he  has  with  umemiya,  the  chances  he  has  to  give  this  boy  all  the  love  he  deserves.  

sakura  touches  the  side  of  umemiya's  face,  pure  adoration  softening  his  gaze.  with  all  his  heart,  sakura  says,  "i  love  you.  don't  ever  forget  that,  okay?"  he  smiles  warm  and  gentle,  like  the  first  rays  of  the  early  morning  sun.  "thank  you  for  everything."

"Then I'd love to be the first one to touch you." The first time he's felt the heat that warmed his body travel down to the pits of his stomach. Every time he's thought of sex or something along those lines he's filled with a blank, sure videos did something but nothing like this. Love was a word constantly pushed like a drug in songs, movies, conversations, books but none of them knew it's true meaning. Movies conveyed love to be this instant miracle that fixed all regardless of it's situation, ups and downs but love would create miraculous resolutions. Books defined love to be poetry, passion, magic that was bestowed upon them to defy all odds while music made love sound as if it was just this strong emotion that made your loins burn with desire. Now that he was experiencing it for the first time he found that it was a mix of it all but it was stronger than what any of those sources could have ever described.

The fear in his eyes told Umemiya there was more to this than the other was letting on, he was lying to him, protecting those who hurt him. Not for their sake but for his own, given how he wanted it to be secretive, he could only imagine that they've must have done something to him. "Haruka." His name came out as a command but he never meant for it to be, he wanted names, and if he wouldn't give it, he'd go get it himself. "Please don't lie to me, I know they weren't playing around. It's sick what they've done, but I only care about you, I want to protect you.." There was a plead in his voice, something that was going to end up being his weakness but he needed to protect him. "I need you to trust me, if someone did this to me would you let them get away with it? No, right? You said only over your clothes but what if they take it further later, bullies don't leave it at just that." He wanted so bad to convince him into listening to what he said, to try and get him to understand that what he was doing was in his best interest.

The severity of his harm to his own body was enough to get Umemiya to question it but he wouldn't tell anyone not unless he absolutely had to. He'd be able to help him through whatever he was going through, he knew that. Unless he couldn't which he'd get someone else to get through to him, instead he pushed it aside. It was fine, for now.

"Make me dinner? Already starting to sound like you're ready for marriage even though we barely met. You know, I can make that happen, maybe not now but I'll get us damn near close to it." He teased placing a kiss to his cheek, he knew they couldn't right now, one day they would and when that day came he'd make sure the boy knew that the start of their forever began on this day. "If you wanna learn how to cook, we can do it together." Umemiya offered, smiling as he noticed the blush on his face. God he was so damn cute. How the hell did he get so lucky to find someone, strong, cute, charming and hot all wrapped up in one?

Taking the phone back from the other's hand he grinned as he noticed the contact saved along with two hearts beside the name 'boyfriend'. It was exciting enough but to know that Sakura's never called or texted anyone before, that he'd be his first? It made him feel special. "Well now you do, for anything you know, even if you're all hot and bothered and need to hear my voice…" The older male joked but smirked as he leaned in just enough to get close to him, the way he said that was arousing rather than frightening. Of course he knew the boy was still dangerous but by the time he joined Furin he'd be at the top, there would be no need for him to be covered in blood though he would miss the look. "Keep saying things like that and when you join Furin, you'll be finding yourself naked with me all the time." The second year paused curiously before feeling soft lips against his cheek, damn was he in love. That was so cute, all he wanted to do was hold onto the boy tightly and never let him go. "Sounds good to me, I like this better than stabbing."

Instead of speaking, the second year simply holds onto Sakura tightly burying his face agianst him as he tried his best to just breathe in the boy's scent. His boyfriend was able to see his pain but promised to hold him through it, and that's all he truly needed. Whenever his greatest pain bubbled to the surface, he'd call upon Sakura to help him bury it back down. "Yeah, I promise."

Didn't know how to flirt? Sakura was already flirting with him in ways he didn't even know, those little comments, the way he batted his eyes at him. It wasn't as seductive as it could've been but it was damn near hard for him to not get so excited. "I should've huh? Maybe that would've stopped you from getting so violent, all you needed was someone to show you want it means to be a good boy huh? You were just waiting for me to make a move right? Is it too late for us to go back so I can claim you properly?" Holding him close he tilted his head to gaze at how close the other was, how he held onto him so tight. "I'd make you enjoy losing at least to me, you'll want to lose to me more often." Oh the things he'd have done to him was something he only started thinking about when he saw how cute and submissive he became while they were walking together. For a moment he thought about how to explain it a little better, but things were easier as an example rather than words, he'd just have to wait till the time came for him to truly have his first fight. "The fights you've been having were to defend yourself, it's different when it's mutual combat, or to defend someone or something else. When we fight it'll be completely different." Umemiya informed with a grin on his face.

Financial support? The boy was so cute but it also told him that he felt as if he had to be useful in order for others to want him around. "Haruka, you don't need to pay for anything. Consider it a practice run for our future, you know seeing how it feels for us to live together. And you're not being a burden nor are you taking up my space." He spoke trying to get him to truly know what it felt like to be wanted, for his presence to be so significant that he was being offered a place to stay if only for them to be in each others company. "I wouldn't be offering if I didn't want it, we'd be seeing how it feels that way when we're older and we've got a place to ourselves it'll be less awkward since we've already lived together. I'd love for us to share my bed, we could sleep together every night if you stayed in my room. And being able to make out with you in my bed sounds hot." The white haired teen teased as he felt the other's hand squeeze his own.

"I think for the first day we should eat inside your school, I want to make sure everyone knows my boyfriend belongs to me. Actually, what if I sent you to school in my Furin jacket? I think you'd look pretty cute wearing it too." More so it was a statement he was going to make, everyone knew Furin uniforms meant the person knew someone from Furin which also meant if that person was messed with they'd have to hope they were never found. "Our future, I'm always thinking about our future." The furin student replied as he returned the kiss happily, the idea of their pictures together being hung up in his bedroom had him excited already.

Sakura was his first love this he knew from the second their eyes met, knowing that the other felt so strongly though they just met caused his heart to flutter within his chest. His thoughts were filled with nothing but the blooming possibilities for their love, and how they could maintain this relationship for the rest of the year, hell for the rest of their lives. Every kiss was a promise to always be loyal, faithful, loving, devoted solely to him. "Haruka, you're gonna be the death of me." Umemiya groaned hearing how he felt the same way, he was trying so hard not to think about it but right now his length was erect completely. He only felt that way for him? They just met and already their bodies were awakening to each other and he was fighting tooth and nail to keep his hands to himself. "Want you so bad…"

Soap was poured into his hair, while those gentle hands massaged it into his scalp. Sighing softly as he enjoyed the way the other was being so attentive to him but with his careful touch it was making his hardness jump in excitement as if calling to Sakura in need of the same gentle attention. "You're so sweet but we both know, your hair bets mine anyday." He complimented before rinsing his hair out and leaning in to place kisses against Sakura's lips, trailing his lips along the bicolored teen's jawline while his hands moved along his hips pulling him against his body so that he could feel his erection sliding between Sakura's legs. "You feel what you did to me? got me all excited. Now if you stay still, we can make it out of the shower before I do something to you." Taking some of the shampoo, he worked it through Sakura's hair, making sure to massage over his scalp while thoroughly cleaning black and white locks. Their close proximity was a test to how well he could hold down his urges, rinse his hair and making sure no soap got into his eyes. On to the next item, washing his body.

"Hope you don't mind, I promise to keep my hands respectful." Yet his body was definitely not hearing him. Umemiya took the body wash and made sure to lather and spread the soap across his entire body stopping at his waist before realizing there was no way he'd be able to go further. After some time when they're out of the shower, he finds himself drawn to the smaller form that was currently drying him off. His arms wrapping around the younger male's waist pulling him close as he kissed his lips once again, having being able to enjoy those kisses all over himself. "I love you too, haruka. We should probably get back to my room, don't want anyone catching us in here like this. That and we still need to get you some spare clothes to sleep in."

[leitmotif-art]

Do you have any drawing tips for semi-beginners hoping to improve drawing people? 🙏

Draw at least once a day, even if you don't feel like it. Artistic skill is 5% raw talent and 95% stubborn af bull-headed "fuck you I'm mad that I can't draw a 3/4 head so I am gonna draw it a hundred times until I get it right"

Do drawing warmups– straight lines from the shoulder, spirals and circles and cubes, things that get your muscles, well, warmed up. Even if this is all you can draw that day, you're still gaining fine motor control.

Copy from old school masters. I literally, 100% do mean "sit your butt down and freehand a copy of whatever famous painting/sculpture/piece you're gaga for". Critically analyze how these artists drew the human form. Why do you enjoy these artists' works? What would you like to learn from them? I'm not a great colorist, so I enjoy studying how other artists utilize light and color.

Listen to Jack Kirby's advice:

Use references. All the time. Every damn day. Download stock photos that look cool and try drawing them. Take photos of yourself, your friends and fam and draw them. Feel weird because smug little assholes cry that "that's cheating", or folks make fancy jpgs of how you have to change a certain percent of the pose/hair/face/the way the shirt is flowing on your friend's body because exact life-drawing studies are "copying" now??? References are how artists work successfully and grow as artists. So you know, fuck them.

"Stock photo [person] [action]" is a life saver for finding poses to practice on

Use grids if you need to. Our predecessors did. Hell, they used crazy things like the camera obscura to make the perspective of their paintings correct. Programs like Procreate literally have grid guides to help.

Just completely stuck on a body part and frustrated that you can't get it to look right? Trace it. You have my permission. Trace it to get the form right, then try free-handing it again. You'll probably nail it. MAGIC. This is not "cheating".

(Don't trace stuff and pass it off as yours/use it for final pieces* unless your style is literally rotoscoping, a perfectly valid art form. Like, know your work and take pride in it.)

Related to that, don't feel married to a particular "style". Learn the basic foundations, then Experiment. Do those "draw my character in [X] style" memes. Flexibility will help you be kinder to yourself. Push your limits.

Redraw old work, so you can see how much you've improved.

Everything about a person can be broken down into basic shapes. Don't feel like you have to draw all the body contours perfectly the first time, and don't feel married to your first drafts. Revise, revise, revise.

Be kind to yourself. Seriously. Allow yourself to be patient with yourself. Adults in particular are so hard on themselves when it comes to drawing, when we don't need to be.

*On the topic of tracing:

Want to know where you CAN trace all the live long day? Your own work. "What?" Yes. Good god, yes. Light boxes exist in meat space for a reason! Layers in digital programs exist for a reason! So you doodled two different pics of Bucky Barnes and you love his face on one but hate it on another? C&P that sucker over or draw off that. Make a new layer above the mess. Finesse the Winter Soldier into complying cuz he's an obedient boy. It's your vision, go HAM.

On the subject of "Originality":

Andrew Loomis' Figure Drawing For All It's Worth is a solid read that goes into the specifics of how to draw people, going into anatomy and breaking down bodies and faces into shapes and lines. Part of my improvement came when I stopped stressing out about the whole image (at least at first) and took things section by section.

It might seem a little dense and intimidating at first, but it's so much better than a lot of the "how to draw" stuff on the market today.

This is also dense af but I hope it helps!

[illustratelaw]

At some point, I hit a wall. I didn't mean or plan to - but I took a break. I started playing video games again and just trying to get as much dopamine as possible. This felt like such a backwards step and I was beyond disappointed in myself. I'm so hard headed and stubborn at times! But, at the time - when you're in it, you can't see a way out, and the frustration and negativity just seeps in - it's an old evolutionary response and survival mechanism that us humans just can't seem to shake off, even in the modern world when it no longer really serves us. I felt particularly bad playing video games again - as this was something that Angel had shared with us - he used to play video games too - but gave up and then was massively successful with his art - this was so inspiring for me! And at that time, I began to see anything that wasn't drawing as a waste of time (this reminds me of the time I thought that if I wasn't doing something to make money - or creating something that I could eventually monetize - then it was a waste of time? Such a toxic mindset and not at all a balanced way to live - Hussle and grind culture really do be fucking us neurodivergent up!) I info dumped how I was feeling into the "mindset" channel of the discord and then just RAGE quit. Eventually - after around a 2-4 weeks - my curiosity got the better of me and I checked the discord... Sammie - another neuro-spicy individual like myself, from America - had read my message and taken the time to write a lovely reply to me, and had offered to be a sort of study buddy for me as she was a few lessons ahead. <3 Her message was JUST the thing I needed. It really perked me up and gave me hope!!! After speaking to a few other people in the separate study buddies discord, I learnt that not everyone was following the course to a T as I was attempting to do. (I'm sure this comes from some sort of childhood trauma of not wanting to get into trouble!) Once I learned that, actually - I could just go through the whole course, download everything - and then, take a sneak peak at the next lesson, lesson two? THAT CHANGED THINGS!!! It might be that I have a little bit of the 'tism - and seeing / hearing - WHY we were doing things, helped to really solidify the things being taught into my brain. I started to see the lay ins differently - I could now envision what the lesson 2 lay in would look like over the top of the lesson 1 lay in - and I understood what the initial guidelines where there for! Admittedly this is kind of a backwards way of approaching things but, as someone who's neurodivergent and struggles with learning difficulties - I should have been kinder to myself. No one told me that this was okay until now, turns out I just needed permission from someone else to experiment. And MAN, what a massive difference it made for my mental health! Now - I was starting to have fun again, the studies didn't feel like a chore or homework and - just for fun - I'd practice turning my lesson 1 studies into lesson 2 studies. This motivated me to get the lesson 1 study 100% right and just levelled up the end result? I can't quite explain it but - it worked for me.

[townofcadence]

Artair understands what is happening; this is much like their first meeting, actually. That night, Jonas couldn't tell him the truth of how he was feeling until he had played a game of truth or lies. So Artair just closes his eyes as Jonas touches his forehead, because this is the way Jonas knows to be forthright with him. He can't just say what's on his mind, he needs that safety net, that ability to pretend it was just a trick or a joke or a game, to be secure enough to say whatever it is. This really isn't any different.

Which of course, meant everything Jonas 'read' from his mind was--- pretty wrong. Or off-base. But it showed what Jonas thoguht right now. He felt like he made no sense, that Artair was frustrated with him, or at least ought to be. The party bit feels out of left field without a preamble, but he supposed he could see it being a worry he had, that he had ulterior motives for hanging out? But that was clearly there. And of course, it wouldn't be Jonas if there wasn't some kind of attempt to switch gears to something comedic, however brief.

He only confirms it when he drops the act. Artair brushes back his hair.

"I....think you need to workshop your act some more, J." Artair answers, in a softer voice. "Sorry to say, but you're no good at reading minds."

There's a crack of a smile, even if it sobers again. "I don't think you're as difficult as you might think. And I'm not upset at you. I just....don't really know how to help, because a lot of your struggle now.... It's not something I can help with." Artair takes a deeper breath, thinking how to continue. He does so simply by plowing forward, in a soft-spoken voice.

"Jonas, if you said yes because you want this time to be different, then.... you have to choose to make it different. Hiding out in the kitchen and 'watching everyone have their hallmark card moment', or overcompensating or drinking aren't.... those decisions are within your power. And they're not going to make anything different if that's what you usually do at these parties."

He leans back further in his chair. "This one isn't a Vegas 'show your face and schmooze' kind of thing as it is. But... I can't do anything to fix how you feel. Except tell you that choosing to hide away is a choice. And you can make it sound as inevitable as you want, but.... choosing to reach out, to cook some and then spend time with your friends and be out there with everyone else, is also a choice you can make. It can be different if you try to do things differently. But nobody else can do that for you. I mean-- I guess someone could pull you out of the kitchen, like I said before. But.... you're not powerless either. It's not set in stone to go one way. It is if you always do the same thing, I guess. But there isn't.... actually anything to stop you from switching things up." He shrugs.

"You have better friends, kinder ones, who aren't going to be mad at you for changing your mind. Hell, they'd understand that at this time of year plans can change pretty quick. And they care enough to not forget or neglect you. If they didn't come pull you in with them, it's probably because you'd say you're busy cooking or you'd look busy and they'd....believe you? Not realize you want to be a part of things but expect an invitation, probably. You have real friends now. And I wish you would allow yourself to believe that. Just enough to at least give them a chance to prove it." He touches Jonas' back very gingerly, offering a small squeeze, to try and comfort him through the extremity of his emotion.

Jonas went quiet again for a little bit, sorting through Artair's words in his head. Then he placed the bowl of frosting aside.

He moved back towards Artair, up close to him and leaned on the counter, studying the bowl and then up at Artair with a thoughtful expression on his face. He then he raised his hand, placing two fingers against Artair's temple and two against his own. He closed his eyes and appeared to concentrate for a moment.

" I'm going to read your mind right now, shh..." he intoned solemnly. " You're thinking...you're thinking mmmm...."

His fingers tap against Artair's temple lightly. " 'I don't understand this guy at all or why he thinks and acts the way he does. I'd like to help but it's really frustrating. Also he probably is going to try to convince me to go to this party we've been talking about even though I really don't want to go either. And what the fuck is he doing anyways trying to read my mind? Weirdo. Hmmm did I put enough vanilla extract in this cookie dough? ' "

He dropped his hands and turned around, leaning against the counter again. " I know you're not trying to make me feel guilty or shitty, Artair, " he said, scuffing his feet across the floor. " I know you wanna help me because you're good like that. And me being well...me I imagine sometimes it feels like banging your head against a brick wall. I...really don't know why I said yes to begin with. Maybe it was just because I really was afraid to say no or maybe I thought at the time 'hey maybe this can be different somehow' or...god who knows. I...don't know why I have a hard time trusting people, even those I know are my friends. Well...maybe I do but honestly all that would probably give a licensed therapist a headache to sort out. I think sometimes trying to figure out why I act like I do feels like a mental game of 52 card pickup. "

He abruptly reached out and took Artair's prosthetic hand in his, intertwining his fingers with his. " I'm sorry I'm like this when all you want to do is help me to really take a good hard look at what I'm doing. I'm really sorry that...that I'm so hard to be friends with, to even talk to really. Also uhm you don't have to worry. I'm not going to try to guilt-trip you into going to the party...I don't pull shit like that. " He bit his lip again.

" I wanted to check on you and make sure you were ok, Artair. " The words came from him with vehemence as he looked up at Artair. His brown eyes brimmed with emotion. He pinched the bridge of his nose and blinked hard.