#with ap art I had NO time to draw for myself this past school year

[deeeens]

his mommy called him handsome!

[birdie-ghost]

Hey, I noticed you have not said anything in a while are you okay?

Yes!! I had a minor Identity crisis because when i started this comic I was both homeschooled and in a very verryyyyyy bad household situation. I left that situation and like-- I was overwhelmed. I started public school after basically being isolated my whole life. Like i seriously had like 5 friends and I only saw 2 regularly (like once a week)

So I got really overwhelmed and stopped feeling artsy at all. Because frankly I was burnt out. I started productive therapy and am trying to like give myself time and stuff-- be a better person and focus more on the people around me and growing and stuff.

It's really weird coming out of a situation like that and wanting to draw because art was all I was, it was my outlet, and it allowed me to be entirely happy in that dimension of my life. But I had to re-learn my relationship with art because that was still an odd connection to like, entire escapism.

I know I want to continue the comic eventually but for the time being, I'm still just working on myself and my AP art stuff. It's difficult lol. Cus being homeschooled (if i wanna call it that because honestly I was not educated properly until recently. Or vaccinated. I had to get vaccinated in full at 17. yeah.) and then going to public school. It's entirely different. How i spend my time is a lot more valuable now.

I'm very thankful for the people I met through fnaf though, a lot of yall got me through a very tough time in my life and supported me without knowing it. I love this comic and this section of the community. Yall are the bomb 💖

I definitely don't owe an explanation but I felt that I wanted to give one. Because I kinda have mostly disappeared off the face of tumblr for the past year or so-- which might have been a cause for concern for some of my friends.

If it turns out I don't continue the comic ever, I'll make sure I tell you or somebody how I'd plan for it to go. So ya'll don't end with never knowing. But for now I still plan to

[jayjamjary]

light and/or L for 6/9/25?

I'm alive againnnnnn! So I can finally answer this.

Okay so I wrote a lot and don't want to make people scroll a mile at least on mobile to get past this post so answers under the cut lol. I hope you like long winded paragraphs.

Also here's the thing I'm doing this from.

L 6, I've stolen so many of his mannerisms and my posture is worse for it. His moral code (made pretty clear in L Change The World) is one I like as well and reading that book helped me consider a lot of my own moral codes that are still kinda works in progress probably forever. I'm also rather logical with a side of social awkwardness and bluntness like he is. Obviously I'm not as smart as him (I don't know if that would even be possible????) but I know a lot and I'm good at analyzing information (except when it's social information. I can't read faces I can't read tone and I suck at understanding neurotypical people's behavior). I've also taken martial arts lol but just taekwondo not the capoeira-esque thing he does. Oh and I'm snacky. I operate best on too much sugar but also then I sometimes start shaking.

Light 6, Sometimes I have to stop myself from thinking I'm above everyone else. I only get in that mindset occasionally though, like once every few years and then I just have to humble myself by remembering I'm not that cool. I've just always been really good at school stuff, and, especially this year while taking AP Bio, it's hitting me that I'm Really Good At Some Stuff Compared To My Peers. Like top of the class and I do not study and I do almost all of my work last minute and then I draw on the notes in class when the teacher is lecturing. I'll keep thinking I'm going to fail a test or something and then we get it back and I'm the top or near the top of the curve. It's odd. Anyway, aside from academics, when I was younger and first watched death note, like Light, I also didn't understand how his method was bad. Because I was like 14 and hadn't considered morals much at that time. But I've been there so I understand. If I had that kind of power and hadn't had the opportunity to analyze his methods from and outside perspective, I could see myself doing something quite like what he did. Oh also, when I was little (like ages 5-12 maybe), I was a manipulative bitch. I've lost my edge though because. I can't read people and also I'm not terribly good at producing the correct tones myself anymore :p plus I'm smarter now and realizing lying willy nilly all the time isn't the best tactic. Oh, and right now, we almost have the same haircut. My hair's a little shorter on the side but that's it. K even have brown hair too.

L 9, that's a really interesting question to answer. I would think so but only under some conditions. He would have to minimize screen light (like from computers or phones) while I'm trying to sleep. Like cover the screen and his head in a blanket and block out the light from the rest of the room or something. Then uh he would need to share his yummy little sweet treats because they look yummy. If he doesn't want to share he just needs to learn which ones I don't like and get more of those. Which should be easy because I'm very picky (I don't like most chocolate, I don't like most cake, I don't like most pastries, I'm picky with cookies, etc.). I would also appreciate if Watari came along sometimes too. In L Change The World, L takes pretty good care of himself alone, but that was a crisis situation. In a normal situation he may be more inclined to let stuff slide for being able to work longer and I don't want him forgetting to shower or eat or sleep or anything. I could try to take care of him myself but idk if he would listen to me and idk if I would always have energy.

Light 9, Could I be roommates with him? Yes. Would I want to be? No. Well maybe. If we're talking Light with no Kira I think it'd be okay, but if we're talking Light with Kira that's a solid pass. Light with no Kira is a pretty okay guy, and I feel like he would learn to respect me even if he initially looked down on me for my generally alternative style and lack of social skills since I'm pretty smart and stuff. Not only do I think Light with Kira would be judgier but also I don't want to deal with his rehehehe shit. I don't want to live with a roomate who's constantly plotting and scheming and all that.

L 25, ahhh I watched death note for the first time like 4ish years ago so I barely remember. I think I liked him a bit, like I thought he was silly, but I was weirded out by how many shots of his feet rubbing together the anime had.

Light 25, once again, I remind the reader that I was young and dumb when I first watched the show so don't judge me here. I agreed that the world is a trash fire sometimes and I was pretty on board with Light's methods of dealing with that. I thought he was kinda an ass but that was it.

Thank you for asking me the silly questions and sorry for taking so long to get to them lol.

[unrealward]

The last few posts are, like I said, from my high school AP drawing and painting portfolio (By the way, the theme of the concentration was "Transformations of the body". Does it read?)

I have some complicated feelings about the work. Below the cut I share some musings about it.

Warning, this story is about classroom abuse.

My high school art teacher was hypercritical, controlling, and at times coercive. In other words, abusive.

Because we, her students, regularly won awards for our work, she continued mostly unchallenged by the school. She was working there for over 15 years.

I was her favorite, so I was spared the worst of it, but that isn't the kind of privilege you're happy to have. Favoritism is conditional on obedience, and in this case, achievement through technical skill.

I generally try to make the best of any situation--Call it resourcefulness, or opportunism. I tried to explore and express my ideas while still getting her approval to go forward with the pieces--At times a lengthy process. I knew to keep my most vulnerable ideas to myself. She might have vaguely known that I enjoyed manga, cartooning, and surrealism, but I kept it hidden. Everything I brought to the table was a sacrificial lamb.

It's a particular kind of violation to not just lack ownership over your own ideas, but even your physical output. For some students, she would actually paint or draw over parts of the work to "correct" them. This only happened to me once or twice, and I usually managed to paint back over her work without a fuss. But even if I only dealt with it in the ideation process, all of my work from that time inevitably still has her hands on it.

I decided pretty early on, unrelated to her class, that I was not interested in pursuing art professionally. As I approached graduation, adults in my life would constantly encourage me--"Don't let this talent go to waste! Don't stop drawing, okay?"

It was difficult to understand. Drawing is reflexive to me. I couldn't really imagine a world without it--Even a "me" without it.

And that's still true in a lot of ways. I don't think I can ever put the pencil down completely. But certainly, I've had to make time for it, and it's no longer my biggest priority. There are weeks, probably months I've spent without drawing much of anything. It's been years since my last oil painting. I miss drawing with colored pencils.

In high school, I had some hundreds of hours dedicated to nothing but making art--But only under the hawkish eye of the teacher. I could make these highly developed pieces because I simply had the time to do so. If nothing else, I enjoyed the technical process.

If I want to make work of this caliber again, I have to devote a similar amount of time--And as an adult, time is on quite the premium.

When I make art, I never think of high school. Regularly I forget it ever happened. Wisely and tragically, I knew how to compartmentalize.

In the absence of acute pain, what I carry is more insidious--That strategic disconnection, that permanently-guarded heart. The sharpening of my abilities such that I appear as a whole self when I am sharing just a sliver.

There isn't some grand moral to the story here. The abuse neither actively haunts me, nor can I say I have recovered from it. It simply happened. But I know a lot of students were turned off from art, maybe forever, because of that teacher. They carry medals that don't feel earned. They struggle to find an artistic voice amidst the din.

At times, I need to make art to understand how I feel. Other times, I need to understand how I feel to make art. I can't help but see the image of things I want to create, even if I don't know how, even if I'm not ready.

Obviously, there's life after this kind of abuse. I'm living it. More than giving me new baggage, it's more accurate to say it codified existing problems. Anyways, I'm sharing this old art because I want to claim the past as mine, even if it's painful or embarrassing.

I'm hoping to make more art soon. I am trying to unbind myself from careful strategy and intention and to create things that bubble up from my subconscious. There are ideas I have held onto for years that are just waiting for me to create them. Even if it's slow or difficult, I hope I can share them with you some day.

Thanks for reading.

[shiftytt]

Introduction: November 22, 2022: Hey guys, my name is Taylor and here are some things about me! I'm 16, and a junior in high school. I love to shift but I've decided yesterday that I'm going to be take a little break for a little bit, not long, just enough to regain my energy for this awesome adventure that I've perpetuated myself into. I love to draw, sing, and write. I have 3-4 books currently in the works, about 30 songs that I've written this past year, and I've drawn a little bit but not too much. I've mainly focused on school this years and keeping my grades up so I haven't really had time to shift but I will soon! I love journaling, much like what you are reading this very second, but I also like writing poems that nobody understands and my word choice is very very high level(AP - Advanced Placement). Speaking of AP, I have AP English, which is not super hard, but not super easy. I have Chemistry Honors, Art 2, and Spanish 1. But my all-time favorite class, I have next semester.... DRAMA!!!!!!! EEK I'm so excited to have it again because the teacher that I had was incredible and made the class so much more fun, and I HAVE HER AGAIN. AHHHHHHHH, I'm gonna cry the second I see her. Anyways, enough about me, I want to get to know you all, my fans, my supporters, my adventurous travelers that want to go on this journey with me, so, IF AND ONLY IF you want to, you can comment something about yourself that you'd like me to know. That's all for tonight now, but I hope you all have a good and rest night(or good and eventful day for people not in the ET time zone), and happy early thanksgiving!

[ayoungpadwn]

Ohhhh anakin is so the main pitcher on the high school baseball team. He is very popular and well known around the school. Obi-Wan is like a classic art kid, his only friend is the Ceramics teacher, and he spends his lunches in some hidden spot reading alone. One day Anakins friends find Obi Wan and start to bug him, and while he does nothing, he comes back the next day to apologize and get to know Obi Wan. Over time they become inseparable and every art project Obi makes from then on is for Ani

this has... literally been sitting in my ask box for WEEKS. I’m--so sorry...

but carrying on with the idea because YES

- Anakin is most definitely the star pitcher since the beginning of his sophomore year all the way to his senior year. EVERYONE knows him. He is Coruscant’s poster boy, the golden child. The /Chosen Pitcher/ if you will.

- He became most well known for getting Coruscant to the finals his sophomore year, which hadn’t happened in, like, 20+ years. 

- All this praise obviously boosted his ego, especially his sophomore year when he first became the star pitcher. That made him super arrogant and he got roped into the super popular group, so the not-so-popular crowd tends to steer clear of Anakin, since his arrogance and popularity tends to fall with the stereotype of a bully.

- BUT whenever people do have an interaction with Anakin, they are always surprised to find that he can be strangely down to earth, really chill and kind. This made him even more popular his Junior year, since now he’s known as the super nice, yet arrogant, star pitcher. 

- He can basically be friends with everyone.

- Girls fall for him left and right, and he has a reputation as a player just for that reason.

- Yet, strangely enough, no one has ever actually seen him /with/ anyone. 👀

- Anakin’s whole reputation of being a player, an arrogant pitcher, super popular, and oddly kind is what made Obi-Wan steer clear of Anakin throughout most of their time in high school.

- At least... Obi-Wan steered clear of him when he knew people were watching. His own friends liked to make fun of the baseball team, just as the baseball team tended to like to make fun of his friends: the theatre and art nerds.

- That’s when Obi-Wan started to sneak out to watch the baseball games during Anakin’s sophomore year, just because there was something about the pitcher Obi-Wan couldn’t get out of his head and he needed to know more about.

- He was taking a big risk going to the games, since he ran the chance of being made fun of not just by the baseball players, but his own friends as well. Even if his friends joked about it in a playful way.

- Obi-Wan was definitely a loner in high school. He had a small group of friends, but who he was closest to had to be his arts teacher. He spent most of his lunches with Mr. Qui-Gon Jinn, either to just talk or work on an art piece. 

- For fun, Obi-Wan started to draw and paint some of the baseball games he went to. The pivotal moments of the games, when everything came down to a single pitch, or hit, or run. Soon enough he had an entire collection of baseball works, and Qui-Gon /loved/ them. He insisted that Obi-Wan work on more and submit them to the College Board for AP credit.

- So, that became Obi-Wan’s excuse for going to the games. He had to “work on his art concentration for class.”

- During the baseball games he would hide at the very far point of the field, past the scoreboard. It gave him a terrible view of the pitching mound, but it kept him rather concealed. At least the first year.

- Obi-Wan wasn’t popular in any sense of the word, only known as the quiet liberal arts kid. So he thought that going to the games he wouldn’t even be recognized if he got caught. But how wrong he was...

- It was Anakin’s junior year, Obi-Wan’s own senior year, when he finally got caught by two of Anakin’s teammates.

- “What’chu workin’ on, sweater?” a couple of the Coruscant players had chosen to warm up their arms by tossing to each other at the back of the outfield, which gave them a perfect view of Obi-Wan.

- Obi-Wan had glanced down at his sketchbook before bringing it to his chest, trying to hide the sketch he had made of Anakin practicing. “It doesn’t concern you,” Obi-Wan had said back.

- The situation escalated from there. One of the players hopped the fence to come grab the sketchbook from Obi-Wan, resulting in the coach coming to yell at the player. And of course Anakin, the newly voted-in captain came to investigate as well. Because that is just Obi-Wan’s luck.

- The player finally ripped the sketchbook from Obi-Wan’s grasp and laughed at what he saw, “He’s drawing Anakin! What, you got a crush or something?”

- “It’s for my art class!” Obi-Wan bit back and reached for the sketchbook, only for the player to toss it to Anakin before he could grab it.

- It felt like the breath had stilled in Obi-Wan’s lungs as Anakin looked down at the piece, his face totally unreadable. There was a brief moment that Obi-Wan was terrified that Anakin would flip through the pages, but the star pitcher simply folded the sketchbook up before passing it back to Obi-Wan.

- “Get back to practice, you two,” Anakin had said to the players before walking away.

- Obi-Wan decided he needed to stop going to baseball games after that.

- It was exactly four days after the incident when Obi-Wan was coming back late to school to pick up a ceramics piece he had accidentally left. As he made his way to the art room, he realized he had to pass by the baseball field. Just as practice was getting out. Shit.

- He tried to speed past the players, and it seemed that he was home free as he passed the dugout. Except, “Hey, you!”

- Obi-Wan froze to the spot, turning on his heels to see who had called for him.

- And honestly Obi-Wan could hardly believe that it was /Anakin/ who was jogging after him, face flushed red and sweaty from practice.

- The pitcher panted to catch his breath as he came to a stop in front of him, “Kriff, you walk fast,” Anakin laughed.

- Obi-Wan blinked at him waiting for him to continue.

- Anakin cleared his throat, “Anyway, I just wanted to apologize for the other day. My teammates are--”

- “It’s fine,” Obi-Wan hastily said, ready to bring the conversation to a close. He need nor did he want Anakin’s sympathy. Obi-Wan was just embarrassed, it was best to leave what happened behind him.

- Anakin smacked his lips, “Right, well... I just wanted to say I thought your drawing was really cool. I’d love to see more of them.” Obi-Wan blinked at him, so Anakin hurriedly added, “Only if you want me to, of course! You don’t have to... y’know. Yeah, okay, I think I’m gonna--” Anakin motioned behind him with his thumbs as he started walking backwards, nearly tripping over his own two feet. “I think I’ve embarrassed myself enough for one day,” Anakin laughed awkwardly, “See you around, Obi-Wan!”

- Obi-Wan watched as Anakin turned and rushed away, disappearing around a corner.

- How had he known his name?

- The third time Obi-Wan had an interaction with Anakin was during lunch one day. He was sat outside reading against a tree when Anakin approached him once again. At first Obi-Wan disregarded the other’s presence, but it became harder to do so when the pitcher set his bag down and sat directly in front of him.

- Obi-Wan dropped his book into his lap and pulled out an earphone, looking at Anakin quizzically.

- “Hey!” the pitcher chirped, his face split in a grin.

- “Hello there,” Obi-Wan greeted as he leaned forward and fluffed out his sweater.

- Anakin’s eyes tracked the movement, “I don’t think I’ve ever seen you without a sweater on. It’s like ninety degrees out, how are you not dying?”

- Obi-Wan shrugged, “I run cold. Though I could say the same for you, you have a jacket on in this weather.”

- “I come from Tatooine, that place is literally a desert. I’m used to it being twice as hot as it is now.” Anakin shifted his weight as he leaned back onto his hands, “Anyway, I came to bug you again about the... art pieces?”

- Obi-Wan couldn’t help but laugh, “You are incredibly interested in those.” Anakin smiled proudly and tilted his head. “Well,” Obi-Wan continued, “I don’t have any with me at the moment. I suppose if you would like to stay after school and come with me to the art room, you can look through as many as you would like.”

- Anakin had done just that, much to Obi-Wan’s surprise. The pitcher was already waiting at the art room door by the time Obi-Wan had arrived.

- Obi-Wan was still somewhat hesitant to show Anakin all that he’d done, but his nerves were quickly eased by Anakin’s reactions. You would have thought that the baseball player had never seen art before with how he praised the pieces Obi-Wan showed him.

- Qui-Gon kept flashing Obi-Wan knowing glances from his desk, much to Obi-Wan’s dismay.

- Eventually, though, the art teacher had to kick them out, which meant it was time to go their separate ways.

- “I’d love to hang out again, you’re a super cool guy, Obi-Wan.” Anakin had said as they walked to the student parking lot.

- “Super cool guy,” Obi-Wan repeated and laughed, “I do not think anyone has ever said that about me before.”

- Soon enough, Anakin and Obi-Wan became inseparable. In secret, of course. No one in their own friend groups knew that they were hanging out with each other.

- Obi-Wan quickly came to realize why people always had nice things to say about Anakin. While the pitcher was arrogant, he was accepting and kind and more down to earth than Obi-Wan could have ever anticipated.

- There was one night where they decided to go stargazing in the back of Anakin’s truck, when Obi-Wan finally found the nerves to ask:

- “That day when you came up to me to apologize for your teammates, you knew my name. But I never told you what it was. How did you know it?”

- Anakin had paused, and it was hard to read exactly what the pitcher was thinking in the darkness of night.

- “Don’t be... weirded out, okay?” Anakin began.

- Obi-Wan had taken pause but said, “I won’t be,” nonetheless.

- “I was sorta watching you for a while before that day at the game. Not in, like, a stalking way!” Anakin was hurried to say, “But you just struck my interest. You were alone most of the time yet you always looked so peaceful and there was something in your eyes that I couldn’t get out of my mind.”

- Obi-Wan swallowed and opted to not reply.

- “I noticed you at nearly every game, ever since last year. And I wanted to go up and talk to you, but I didn’t necessarily know how to go about it. That’s why I’m sort of glad my teammates tried to bully you. It gave me an excuse to actually /talk/ with you, the person who I was too scared to approach since last year.”

- Obi-Wan paused and turned his head to watch Anakin, “Anakin... do you like me?”

- The pitcher flinched away quickly, as if burned, and whipped his head around to look at Obi-Wan. “What--I’ve never... I’m not... I don’t like guys.”

- Obi-Wan blinked at him before pushing himself to sit up, Anakin following suit. “Dear one,” Obi-Wan began, and even in the pale light he saw Anakin’s face turn a shade of pink, “Have you ever kissed a guy?”

- “I’ve... kissed girls.” Anakin provided.

- “Okay, and how did it feel?”

- Anakin fell silent.

- “Anakin,” Obi-Wan murmured and lifted a hand to run his fingers along Anakin’s jaw. The younger’s eyes were trained to his lips, as if an animal preparing to pounce.

- Obi-Wan inched forward, their lips a hair widths apart. He had to know if Anakin was going to...

- Anakin crushed their lips together, their teeth clattering together with the force of the kiss. Anakin quickly swiped his tongue along Obi-Wan’s bottom lip, asking for entrance.

- Soon enough, Anakin had lowered them to the back of the truck, laying together lazily as Obi-Wan let Anakin map out his mouth and body. The pitcher was moving with a burning hunger, as if he were a man starved of the touch he had so longed for.

- Neither of them truly knew what the kiss meant in that moment, but neither of them truly cared.

<3

[thoughtsofanexcitedspacechild]

The question is inevitable. I stop wiping down the ice cream equipment and look up. For the past two years, that’s all anyone’s ever asked me. Now as I sit here, I realize that by this time next year, I’ll be preparing to move. By this time next year, the question “what do you want to study?” will be answered. The thought of growing up and going to college has always been in the back of my mind, but it always seemed far off. Now as my boss asks me the same question I’ve been asked a million times, the answer doesn’t just feel real; it feels tangible.

“I want to hopefully study something in the arts,” I reply. “I’m hoping to study to then get a job as a concept artist for movies and TV shows.”

"Well, you know art can be just a hobby, right?”

***

I’m three years old. I’m sitting at the kitchen table with white printer paper spread out all over the place. Half of the sheets are filled and the other half to go. My tongue sticks out in determined concentration as I finish what feels like my fiftieth self portrait today. I’m still not happy with how the hair looks, but I’m getting better with every one I make.

“You know art can be just a hobby, right?”

***

I’m eight years old. I wait nervously outside the classroom in the aquatic and community center for my first ever real drawing class. I wait until the door opens and file in behind the rest of my peers into the classroom. I find a spot a little further away from everyone else. Once the teacher begins instructing us on how to draw the basic construction of a horse, I immerse myself into the lecture. Soon enough my anxiety melts away as I immerse myself in the drawing. By the end, I’m not quite satisfied with how my horse looks, but I look forward to the next day. There’s still three more days of camp, and I’m ready to get even better tomorrow.

“You know art can be just a hobby, right?”

***

I’m twelve years old. I’m sitting with what feels like my entire body sunken into an overly plush floral print couch. I watch as Mrs. Scalabrino, a family friend, teaches me how to make a magic loop with the yarn and crochet hook. “I’ve been doing it all wrong! Now I finally understand!” Deb hands me the yarn and hook and urges me to try myself.

This time, instead of having the hook slip through and make a tiny slip stitch, I loop the yarn though and then pull through a final time to create a stitch.

“I did it! I was doing it wrong!”

“It looks very good! Keep going and you’ll be making full projects in no time!” I smile at her compliment and keep practicing.

By the end of the afternoon, I have a long rectangle of clumsily made single and double crochet stitches, but I don’t mind. I’m proud of my lumpy, uneven, handmade rectangle.

“You know art can be just a hobby, right?”

***

I’m thirteen years old. It’s my first time at Blue Lake Fine Arts camp, and I’m taking my first pottery class. I’m carefully carrying my freshly reglazed pot to the back room of the pottery studio after fixing it for a second time. The first time it got damaged I had dropped it after molding the structure and the second time someone else bumped into me, messing up the glaze and sgraffito pattern and glazing in multiple places. I stayed after class during my recreation time and painstakingly remolded and fixed the intricate glazing pattern.

At the end of the session art show, I’m called to the front of the crowd of visiting parents and my fellow campers. I’ve just won the Outstanding camper scholarship. My cheeks flush furiously with embarrassment, but inside I’m also elated. Even though the pot wasn’t perfect. I was still proud of it. I worked hard to save and fix the pot twice broken, and for once, that work pays off. I look out and see the faces of everyone who was with me on the journey to complete the piece, and I know that that pot will always be more than a keepsake planter.

“You know art can be just a hobby, right?”

***

I’m fifteen years old. I lay in bed before my first day of high school. I should be worried about my academic classes, and I am. I can’t stop thinking about the homework for my double paced math class and honors biology, and the more advanced reading we’ll do in honors english this year.

I console myself by thinking about the art class that I’m going to take. By chance there was a scheduling conflict with my social studies credit, and there wasn’t a spot to fit it in. I’d have to test out of the class over the summer, but that meant that I could take Art 1 instead. I stay up and wonder what it will be like. Will it be like my art classes in middle school? Will I finally be able to try oil painting? What about ceramics?

I drift off to sleep anxious, but ready to try all new mediums and make more; to be able to create amongst all the chaos that comes with advanced academic studies.

“You know art can be just a hobby, right?”

***

I’m sixteen years old. I’m almost finished with what was supposed to be my sophomore year, but because of the pandemic, quarantine has made the past month of march even more grey and dreary than normal. The trees outside droop with the heaviness of the recent freezing rain and the sky is a somber grey. I stare absentmindedly at my computer screen waiting for my last zoom meeting of the day to end.

I return to my painting once I log off of our AP Art zoom. I glare at the canvas in front of me. I hate this piece. Even the dull grey color palette outside seems more appetizing than the same oranges and blues that I’ve stared at for the past three months. It’s the feeling in the pit of the stomach when you don’t feel particularly welcome and you know something is off. The dynamic is all wrong and you infuriatingly search the faces of the people there for an answer but to no avail.

I sigh and start to reach for my paints to force myself to push through to a solution, but set them down. “There has to be another way to get through this,” I say to myself as I open my sketchbook against my better judgement. After a quick image reference search, My pencil migrates from the jar to the page. I don’t worry about making it perfect. This piece is just for me.

I sketch out the figures of the boy and girl and boy in the photo, their arms intertwined in an embrace and their lips in a gentle kiss. I make sure her thumb just skims the length of his forearm and that his hand is placed just so on her waist. I step back. We’re getting somewhere.

Long since abandoned for my previous acrylic piece, my colored pencils feel slippery and foreign in my hand. I reach for the tan and brown colored pencils to start, but the bright fuschia red catches my eye. I cautiously begin to apply it to the girl’s face and neck area. Perfect. I don’t stop until the shadows crossing the girl’s face are all shades of pink and red and the boys silhouette is coated in deep blues. What next?

My watercolor palette sits just inches from my paints. I open it and observe my options. I water down a bright pink, an ocean blue, and my untouched cake of deep purple watercolor. I haphazardly splash the pink on one side and the blue on the other, applying purple to blend the area where the two seas of paint mix. I remember an old painters trick of using salt to make cool backgrounds, and apply a generous amount. The scissors come out next, and I delicately cut the form of the girl and boy out. I paste it right on the background and let it sit under a book overnight to press.

In the morning, I observe my work. It’s not perfect. The proportions on the girl’s arm are off and I never quite managed to capture the folds on the boy’s shirt, but I smile. I love it. This is my piece. No one told me to make this. I just did. It’s for me.

My abandoned assignment sits waiting on the other side of the table. I look at it again. This time I do see what’s missing. Like I did while I was working with the pencil, I need to add more depth. That’s why I hate it. That’s why it felt flat and boring. I set my new opus aside and reach for the beaten up acrylic brushes and paint tubes.

“You know art can be just a hobby, right?”

***

The computer screen finally loads. I'm exhausted and have just returned from a missions trip to the Dominican Republic, but in my blissful sleep back in my own bed, I'd remembered that AP scores had come out while I was away. The three numbers I've waited for loom in front of me:

AP Spanish Language: 5

AP Language and Composition: 4

AP Studio Art: 4

A four.

I stare in disbelief at the screen. I'd expected a three at best. I rush to tell my parents.

“You know art can be just a hobby, right?”

***

"Yeah, I know," I respond. "But it's so much more than that to me."

[the-ghost-king]

for the anon describe yourself date (but not date 4 u lol) thing

whats up, I am utterly obsessed with nico di angelo and the percy jackson serieses, I take too many AP classes, I probably have adhd, I like to read and write and I like drawing (but I'm not very good at it) I like dad jokes and I'm very much a dog person. I like History and I want to go into academia or psychology one day.

(Lmao, yeah "the dating not quite date thing" might be a good name for whatever this is exactly I'm doing here~ I appreciate your submission)

I've been obsessed with Nico di Angelo for years now so I get it... My obsession originally started because I was trans and just didn't know it and was therefore living precariously through Nico in some ways, but my love for him has kind of stuck over the years so I understand that. I'm glad we can share and obsession over the Percy Jackson series, gives us something to talk about when daily life falls flat!

I used to take lots of AP classes but my school doesn't offer so many anymore, and also the one I was supposed to take this year was essentially a freshman college pre-med class but I would have had to do in person to take the class and that wasn't an option (my entire family is high risk)... Me being barred from that class was the first time I've legitimately ever felt anger, before that point I'd always had anger and annoyance confused... I've taken a few AP history and science classes, and I'm currently in an AP lit class and will be next year, so I can understand the struggles of AP classes and I applaud you and hope you pass!

(I've passed all of my AP classes so far but I haven't earned the college points from any of them because I used to be a gifted kid but now I'm just depressed and happy with a B)

I wish I still read but often times I find myself getting stuck in spirals of having lots of things I bought and want to read only to reread something again and not finish it fully. As for writing although I haven't done anything creative in some 10 months I'm currently working on 2 different one shots and I'm very proud of that fact!

As for drawing, art takes time and it's not an easy process. I find myself often annoyed at not quite meeting the same levels of other people before I remember my digital art looks worse than my traditional and that most of the people I'm comparing myself to are 20-30 year old artists and I feel a little better; just look at some old art and see how far you've come, it definitely helps you feel better lol. Also! Although you shouldn't trace anything you're going to use for something, I do absolutely recommend tracing images when learning it helps teach coordination and stuff~

I'm overall generally an animal person, and although I kind of want to be a doctor or an author, I wish owning a farm made more money because I would love to be able to live on a farm and car for livestock. Dogs are super cool just like every animal, I like cats but I'm allergic :/

History, academia, and Psych are all really cool ngl. Although I've never wanted a history degree I absolutely understand why someone would, museums are tons of fun and I love learning weird information about the past... I'm personally a fan of 1800-1900's women's fashion, and WW2 European society (social norms, fashion, daily life, etc)- so yep! I also like Ancient Greece, 1000-1700s Europe, Ancient Japan, and pre-settlement America (Vineland, Cherokee and Iroquois, and Latin American first nations people). I would also love to talk for hours about psychology not going to lie, I've only been diagnosed with GAD but it's likely I have depression and adhd as well (some other side effects as well but that's not relevant right now)

Anyhow Anon, apologies for my rambling but I would take you out on a date or two as well, I could see us being close friends even if the relationship didn't quite work out! Thank you for the ask!

[that-house]

Hey so I hit 100 followers today!

Buckle up, this is gonna be a LOOOONG post.

I quite honestly expected it (while my ego is a little smaller than my jokes make it out to be it is definitely present), I didn’t expect it to happen so fast.

It’s not an insane milestone, plenty of people have 100 followers. A hefty portion of my followers are bigger than me. But it’s still important to me. Knowing that there’s 100 people out there who enjoy my shit makes me happy.

First and foremost the credit quite honestly has to go to ahegao George Washington. No, I’m not joking. Until I posted on r/tumblr about my desire to draw that, I had 0 followers. I jumped to like 10 overnight, which was awesome. And then those new followers helped me spread my posts and get more attention.

Secondly I’d like to shoutout @imaverysadgirl and @themeaninglessjumble. You two were my first real tumblr frens. You were the first of my followers to really interact with me. Ember, I’m super happy you’re alive to see me hit 100 followers. Jumble (I don’t know your name unless I forgot it), your art and creations are great and you deserve way more attention.

To all the rest of you, you guys are great, too. Every new follower makes me happy. I’d say I don’t deserve you all, but my colossal ego says I do. Regardless, being nemesi and getting called out for being horny on main and sending and receiving asks has made this last month or so great.

Finally, for all the shit it gets, and for all the shit it pulls, [tumblr] really is pretty dope. I got to meet you all, and it’s actively making me a better person by exposing me to groups of people I’d rarely interact with in real life.

Why does it feel like I’m saying goodbye? I’m not, don’t worry. I plan to stay, and neither death nor pain shall drive me from this hellsite. I’m just saying thanks.

Now with the thanks out of the way, I want to talk about myself a little. Just the stuff that I’ve always wanted to say and never quite gathered my thoughts and found the time to talk about.

You’re gonna get to know me so well! This is like a mini autobiography!

First off, my mental health. This is something I don’t talk about much on this blog, mostly because it doesn’t need much talking about. I’m doing pretty well, to be honest. I have a smattering of anxiety and I’m maybe a little too introverted for my own good, but I’m not suffering from depression and the only time I ever even remotely considered suicide was when I just really really didn’t want to go to French class. COVID has been great for me, since I don’t have to see people. I suppose I’m not a great person to talk to if you’re struggling with depression or suicidal thoughts, seeing as I can’t personally relate, but I’m still always here for you guys if you need me. Just because I haven’t lived through your experiences doesn’t mean I can’t try to help.

Next up I want to talk about my sexuality. This one’s a bit of a mystery. For the past 16 years of my life I’ve considered myself 100% straight. But lately (let’s be honest, following the release of Spirit Blossom Thresh) I’ve been wondering if I might be bi. How many times can I joke about wanting to smash sexy boys before it’s not really a joke anymore? And if I am, a lot of things would suddenly make a lot of sense. But every time I think I have it figured out it suddenly feels like I have no clue what’s going on. Regardless, my sexuality has honestly never been a massive part of my identity (though I’m definitely not asexual, my friends can attest I’m far too horny for that). I have no clue if I’m bi and for now it’s kind of a fun little adventure!

I guess I’ll talk about school and stuff now. Believe it or not, I’m kinda smart. I’m taking a shitton of AP courses this year. But I simultaneously feel like it’s too much and not enough. I’m smart, but I’m not a great student. Compared to my dad, who graduated college with a 3.98 GPA (and his only B being in History of Canada as an American) and now has a super well-paying government STEM job that he loves, I feel like even if I work my ass off I’ll never quite measure up. And my parents have had super high expectations of me, and it’s only recently that they’ve started to accept that I might get some B’s here and there. I’m worried about all the homework this year. I’m a year ahead in Math but I don’t feel good enough at math to be taking AP calculus junior year. I’m worried I’m going to get like a C. But for the most part school is alright, too. That’s sort of the trend in my life. Everything’s alright.

Time to talk about my love life! I have no love life! I’ve been single for 17 years and probably stand no chance of changing that until at least college! Haha I’m so alone! But I can live with it. Growing up an only child with a few friends means that I’m pretty good at functioning without a ton of social interaction, and, while I’d like a partner someday, I’m not desperate. I can wait until I find someone. Pretty much my goal is not to die alone.

Onto sports maybe? I played soccer for most of my life, and was always the worst player on the select team. I was too good for the normal team and not good enough for the select team (kinda like math). Soccer was really toxic, especially when you’re the worst player on a team of high school jock drug addict boys. So I quit, and started playing frisbee! It’s a lot better. The people are nicer! But my first season never happened because of COVID and now I’m in my Junior year and haven’t played much frisbee! So I kinda suck! But I’m physically fit and that’s good enough for me! On my own time I bike and run to stay in shape.

Are you still with me? Now I’m gonna talk about my hobbies and things!

I’ve been playing video games for a long time. I kinda suck at them to be totally honest. I probably have below-average reaction time, and my parents only let me play 15 minutes a day for most of my childhood, so I have a lot less practice than most of my friends. I’m pretty slick with Swain in LoL tho.

This next part is borderline shameless self-promotion, but since the Kickstarter isn’t live yet I guess it doesn’t count. I’m making a tabletop role playing game! I’ve been working on it for the past few years. My goal is to launch the Kickstarter prior to my college applications, because that’ll look sexy as fuck to potential colleges. It’s a post-apocalyptic sci-fi game where you play as supersoldiers trying to reconquer the wastelands of Earth for humanity. I’ll do a big post on it when I launch the Kickstarter, and I guess that’ll also be a full name reveal (kinda spooky since my full name is ENTIRELY unique and one-of-a-kind. More ego boost lmao).

And finally I want to talk about my art and writing. I’ll start with my drawing, and finish off with my writing, since that’s what I’d most like to be known for on here (but that’ll never happen because my caveman brain shitposts are too funny).

So I’ve been doodling for a long time. I briefly got formal art training but sacrificing my Saturday mornings to draw what someone else wanted me to make so that I could make better stuff in the future didn’t appeal to my 8-year-old brain. I draw in the margins of worksheets. I draw on random sheets of paper. Recently my parents bought me a drawing tablet, and I’ve been trying to improve at digital art. I’d say I’m getting better, but I don’t practice nearly enough. All in all my art serves its purpose. It makes people laugh and can sometimes creep people out. It’ll never go in a museum, and I’ll never make money off of it but whatever.

And finally, my writing.

How can I talk about writing without talking about reading? I’ve likely read more books than both my parents combined, and if not, it’s close (and my mom is a prolific reader too). I have three bookshelves in my room and books on every surface. You can’t follow me for long without seeing a post ranting about my latest read. I love to read and I read incredibly fast. Reading spurred my love of English class, which in turn helped me write.

And finally, we get to writing in and of itself. I’ve been writing stories since I was a little kid. I’d like to think I’ve improved a fair bit. I’m still no novelist, but I consider myself a fairly adept short story writer.

But I suppose where my writing really stems from is my bed. Every night while I’m lying in bed, I tell myself stories until I fall asleep. I work on a story until it’s done or until I get bored of it. Along the way, in the shower, on my bike, I build the world of the story, crafting the plot. Sometimes the stories are elaborate fanfictions of my latest reads. That’s probably how they started. Often, they’re unique worlds all of their own. My current writing posts are about the City of Mammon, but my current story in my head is about some vampires who hunt other vampires in Victorian England.

And now we get into the process of writing. It’s fun! I sit myself down with an idea in my head, and use all the fancy words I picked up from my books to convey the vibes I want. I honestly wouldn’t be a great writing teacher. It’s just a skill that comes naturally to me as a result of what I’ve been doing with my free time my whole life. And it’s beautiful. And every time someone compliments my writing or reblogs it, I love writing just a little bit more.

Well I guess this is it. The 100 follower special. I wonder how many of you guys will take the time out of your day to read this. Hopefully a lot!

James (or That House) signing off for the night!

<3 thanks guys

[nadiawrites14]

whagt the hell nadia has a creepypasta oc???

its october mf

wc: 3.6k

not very well written and a bit of a hot mess but still love this tall king <3

There was this kid at my school. 

There was a kid at my school, and I just really need to talk about him. I think it’s something I need to put out there. I am talking about it because anyone and everyone I talk to seems to never remember his name, or him in general, but I can’t stop thinking about his face.

I was never popular at school, and my brother always outshined me in that fact. He was a cheerleader, and I was his nerdy, unattractive sister. His friends were never friendly with me, and it wasn’t easy for me to make new ones, so I mostly kept to myself. Besides a few nice classmates, I was a bit of a loner, and this led me to Charlie.

Charlie Nguyen had always attended school in my city. I knew of him — we’d never actually talked, besides nearly 10 years of attending school together. Come to think of it, I don’t think anyone really talked to Charlie. He was always there, a lingering presence, and seemed to get on better with teachers than he did with other kids. Despite both of us being outcasts, we never interacted, right up until recently. He just tapped my shoulder in the hallway once, shyly staring at his feet and asking if I would like to eat lunch with him in the library. Despite his crooked posture and timidness, he towered over me. I was only as tall as his shoulder. I had nothing to lose from it, really — it was more preferable to spending lunch with Ernest and his friends, so I accepted cheerily which made him very happy. 

Talking to him, I was shocked at how much I missed out on by never bothering to strike up a conversation. He was funny, sweet, and a hell of a lot more intelligent than I had believed. I’d often seen my teachers slip back 70s and 60s to him, but in one of the library’s secluded corners, we discussed politics and art and existentialism. I don’t even know how we got into talking about philosophy and what defines the self, but by the time the bell rang, my lunch was not eaten and I was much more enlightened than I was before. It was like a lightning bolt. I told him I’d be glad to eat lunch with him tomorrow as well, and he seemed very appreciative of it. As I headed to my last class, I realized I forgot to ask for his number, but decided I’d ask the next day.

Something about Charlie was just so alluring. I didn’t know much about him at all, even after our daily lunches began — he was 17, from Fresno, and his mother passed when he was young. Half-Vietnamese, half-white, and he spoke broken Spanish and loved to draw cartoons in the margins of his notes. I found myself chatting with him through text past my bedtime, where we’d discuss our lives, our academics, our interests. One thing Charlie and I really bonded over was our shared interest in both Shakespeare and horror movies. He’d been enamored since he read Romeo and Juliet his freshman year, but Hamlet was his favorite. At the time, I was peeling through AP Literature with straight A’s and was much more concerned with Tolstoy and Plath and Camus, but his fascination with the bard was certainly something I could bond with him over.

I prefer the comedies, though. Midsummer’s Night, Much Ado, As You Like It. Charlie’s interest in the tragedies ranged from the general to the obsessive, where he would produce sermons and sermons of how much the words and writings spoke to him. Considering how much death was in Hamlet and Macbeth, his other favorite, it concerned me, but I passed it off as nothing unique. After all, he was also a fan of slashers and all things horror. He loved a good scare. Whenever I tried to coax him into visiting his house for a movie night or a sleepover, he’d defer, and I would glumly accept the sentence. Once I switched the proposed setting from his house to mine, he gladly accepted.

Ernest was a little bit less enthusiastic about my liaisons with Charlie. They had gotten into scuffles before. Ernest got a very stern slap on the wrist for pulling on Charlie’s crutch in the hall once, freshman year. I told him a week in advance, just so he knew to vacate the house the next Friday and allow me and what he so lovingly called ‘the creepy asshole’ to watch a movie together. Ernie huffed and puffed about it the whole week and it really began to get on my nerves. The entire week, he bugged me and demanded just what I saw in that freak. I excused it as brotherly overprotection, but as Friday grew closer, I started to realize that it was fear.

When he dropped me off that morning, I confronted him in the car. “Why are you so scared of Charlie?”

Ernie scoffed. “I’m not scared of Charlie.”

“You sound pretty paranoid when you’re dropping a curfew on me and telling me to not get too close or talk too much.”

“Well, mom and dad are out of the house, and I wouldn’t want anything to happen to you.”

“Charlie is a freak. He’s... creepy. I can’t place my finger on what’s up with him. Esme, just tell me, have you ever left the room with a splitting headache when you’re with him? Has your phone ever started bugging out? Hm?”

I thought back. Well, a few lunches in, I did have such an awful headache I had to excuse myself from class to go try and throw my guts up in the bathroom. It wasn’t that, though, and it had subsided by the end of the school day. The back of my skull would sometimes pound and contract, but I didn’t think it was anything, reducing it to pollution or mold in the school. It always ebbed when I left the school. For my phone, it would get a little buggy. Just a little buggy, though! I had no reason to think it was Charlie’s fault! It’s not like we live in a world where that shit happens. He’s not some psychic, he’s a weird, lonely kid with trauma. That’s it. And I let Ernie know that by screaming an expletive and slamming the door on him, spending the rest of the school day with a headache tenfold worse than the one I had all those weeks ago. By lunchtime, my head was pounding so fiercely I almost slipped and fell down the stairs. 

Charlie noticed, and asked what was wrong, a worried look on his face. I asked if we could postpone, and went on to talk about how awful my headache was. He seemed very disappointed about it but nodded and accepted with a smile. I felt so guilty about it, but it was quickly absolved, because when I walked out of the library with him I must have blacked out in the hallway. Charlie and one of the other teachers brought me to the nurse’s office, where my mother brought me home as I moaned in the backseat.

The rest of the afternoon was a blur. A literal blur behind my crowded vision and the blood rushing in my ears, but I do remember awaking in the darkness of my room at around 1:00 AM. The red light on my digital clock said so. I awoke to the sound of something like water boiling, or when a witch’s brew bubbles inside of a movie or cartoon. It was bubbling, dripping, wet — but when I pulled back my curtain, everything appeared dry. No rain, not even any clouds. The stars were quite clear, due to the fact that it was a new moon. Despite that lingering sound of bubbling and popping, I was able to fall back asleep. I don’t know how long I slept, but when I came downstairs the next morning, my parents (and an over-concerned Ernie) were adamant that I stay home all weekend. I accepted that the next two days would be filled with boring movie binges and cups of hot soup and tea, and I plopped back under the covers. My head began to pound every time I checked my phone. I noticed Charlie had sent me a few texts, but I didn’t have the heart nor the energy to check what he had said. 

Sunday is when things actually began to get weird. The batteries in the remote for my TV had gone kaput, and I remembered that Ernie usually kept the same type in his desk for his old lamp. It was easier to walk across the hall to his room than down two flights of stairs into the basement. I knocked, and when there was no response, I entered. The lights were off. This was strange, because Ernie always loved to keep lights on. My parents constantly griped about seeing his outline in the window as late as 11, either from the strip LED lights that lined his room, the fairy lights, the candles, or the overhead light. I flipped the light switch and rubbed my eyes, as it was the most brightness I had seen in the past two days. Beginning to feel a tad nauseous, I took a seat at Ernie’s desk, trying to recall which drawer he kept his batteries in. As I searched, though, I noticed one drawer was shut from the inside, most likely from a heavyweight.

I should have just kept it shut. I shouldn’t have pressed. I should have gotten what I needed and left it alone, left my golden boy brother’s life completely alone. Then I could live knowing he didn’t have any dark secrets despite being a little bit of a bully and just a tad too standoffish. But, being the curious girl I was, I kept pushing until the drawer gave in.

Composition notebooks. The white smudges across the notebook covers had been filled in with dashes of pen, each one meticulously filled in. All five of the notebooks had this pattern. Blacked out, no name on the lines or any signage, otherwise normal in appearance. By that point, I should have known, but I kept going. I was once again shrouded in that same allure I felt around Charlie, the strange sense of being drawn in. When I opened the first notebook, I had to stop myself from making a sound. Every single page. Every single page in that notebook was filled with scratches in multicolored ballpoint pen, pleads and hypotheses and prayers. Drawings, maps, entries. The pages were thin from being worn down so deeply with the frantic pen marks, and many of the pages had been torn through from the intensity of the writing. My nausea grew and I began to feel my head pounding again. But I just couldn’t stop. Trying to process those frantic words written and dated and laden with tables and records and drawings was like trying to decipher hieroglyphics. Particularly, there was one symbol and one familiar figure that was retained throughout the notebook’s contents. An O with an X slashed through it. It reminded me of how I marked my bubbles on Scantrons, one line through, one line through, shade in the bubble. And the figure. The figure. A faceless man, a white oval of a face atop a suit and tie, and what looked to be tentacles pouring out from the sides. 

I was snapped out of my trance by the sound of footsteps rising up the stairs. I dumped the notebooks back in my drawer, besides the fourth one, which I tucked in the back of my shorts and underneath my sweatshirt. Ernie looked at me weirdly as I exited his room, but I offered a weak smile and held up the pack of batteries. He nodded, and I disappeared back into my room.

It fascinated me, and it scared me. When the oncoming headache and nauesa had left, I scanned over all his words and entries, observing each of his drawings and sentences and deconstructing like a true AP student should know how to do. I always assumed Ernie was going to parties when I heard his window open and shut or when he warned me he wouldn’t be home until late, not investigating supernatural entities in our affluent suburban town and measuring sound waves through apps he’d downloaded onto his phone. I hadn’t known Ernie was this brilliant. It took me about two hours of reading and rereading that singular notebook until I had connected the dots.

A few years ago, our cousin Ronnie disappeared. Ronnie and Ernie were best friends, close like brothers, and were inseparable at each and every family gathering. What I knew for certain about Ronnie is that he also had a particular fascination with ghost-hunting. He went out on frequent escapades with his girlfriend and her brother with some handy professional equipment in the most ‘supernatural’ bits of California. Most of my family excused it as a strange hobby that didn’t subtract from Ronnie’s successful business career, not until all three of the ghost-hunting squad disappeared without a trace while investigating the Lassen National Forest. No DNA, no bodies, no signs or directions or a reason were ever found. Even their car and all their expensive equipment, all of Ronnie’s research, had vanished into thin air. It seemed he had become one of those ghost stories he so adored to pursue. It didn’t hit me that hard, as I hadn’t known Ronnie all that well, but I hadn’t factored in how much of Ernie’s personality had changed since the disappearance. He had become more standoffish with his rivals, more competitive with his athletics, more jumpy and paranoid.

I should have known by the way he looked at Charlie. I assumed it was drama I had missed out on or the pure perils of high school hierarchies. But I had never noticed how hateful, how accusatory it really was. For some reason, I was certain that Ernie had it in his head that all of these things were connected. The Faceless Man, the disappearance of our beloved Ronnie Halaifinoua, and the outcast at my school who was seemingly responsible for bugged out phones and splitting headaches. It made no sense, but at the same time, it was like a missing piece to a puzzle that I simply had to snap into place. I hid the notebook in my schoolbag, and went back on Monday armed with a bottle of aspirin and comfortable clothes, ready to confront Charlie.

At lunch, I took two aspirin and handed him the notebook wordlessly. We sat in silence as he slowly peered over the pages, absorbing the information behind blank eyes without a single sound. When he reached the final page, he set it down and asked, “Did you write this?”

“Ernie did.”

Charlie sniggered at that and crossed his legs. “Well, he’s onto me, now, isn’t he?”

I stared at him, slack-jawed, feeling duped. “You’re— you’re—“

“What, supernatural? I’d like to think so,” he gave me a mellow look. “Ah… you may want to take another aspirin. Watch this.”

I popped one and I watched. He closed his eyes and snapped his fingers. The lights above us flickered off, then on, then off again, before the lights reignited. Charlie opened his eyes, suddenly breathless, and nodded. “I can’t… usually do it with that much control. It needs work.”

I slammed my hands down on the notebook, my mind barreling at 100 miles per hour with a smattering of questions in tow. “Everything. Tell me everything. Now.”

Charlie folded his hands and gestured to the aspirin. I shook my head and pulled the bottle to my side. He cleared his throat, steadied his gaze, and began. “I wouldn’t call myself willingly supernatural by any means. I did not ask to be this way. I have been tossed through more foster homes in 17 years than I can count on my hands, and I would give anything to give up this life. I hate living a life where I’m unable to control my abilities. I don’t want to hurt others, I don’t want to do this, but sometimes it gets out of hand. Lucky for you,” he said. “Some people will gain immunity once exposed to it long enough.”

“Gain immunity to what?”

“It has a lot of names depending on the universe you’re in. They mostly call it the slender sickness, but you can call it the static sickness, faceless-man-itis, whatever. You do you. Headaches, nausea, hallucinations. Malfunctioning electricity. Static. The whole thing.”

“So it is you.”

“Always has been. Well, not totally. Faceless Man? The Faceless Man, as your brother says, he may or may not have touched my mother with his hand, therefore touching me as well and handing me a degree of abilities that I drag with me. It’s my cross, Esme. I’ve been avoiding his gaze for the past 16 years and have always managed to just be out of his reach, but my powers are getting stronger and it’s all getting more and more out of hand. I needed to go to someone.”

“Does he have a name? An actual one.”

“Many names. The Operator, the Business Man, Chernobog. Apparently, now, the Faceless Man. And I guess he’s my parental figure now. I’ve been chilling with him more often. Crazy dude, gotta say,” Charlie said, putting his hands behind his head and crossing his legs. “Crazy, crazy things.”

I looked at my hands, unsure of what to feel. “Did he kill my cousin?”

Charlie’s face went slack. “He’s killed many, many, people, but I don’t have control over what he does.”

We sat in silence for a long moment until Charlie spoke again. “I’m sorry for your loss.”

My heart began to pound. “Ernie’s after you,” I said, running a hand through my hair and letting it fall over my face. “I think he might try and hurt you.”

“So… movie night is postponed indefinitely, then,” he replied.

I grinned sadly at him. “Don’t make me laugh, this is serious. I don’t want you to be harmed.”

His arms dropped to his side, and he smiled at me. He smiled in a way that drew me back in all over again. “Esme, be here tomorrow. I’ll see you then.”

He vanished back out into the hall. I chose not to follow him. But, for the first time, I had a surprising lack of a headache, and I don’t think it was because of the aspirin. 

That night, I slipped the notebook back into Ernie’s drawer. I think he may have figured it out, though, because when we bumped into each other on the stairs, we stared at each other for a good minute saying nothing. I believe it was my way of telling him which side I was on, because when he surrendered his gaze he slammed the door shut behind him and I heard rummaging in his room. I walked to school the next morning.

When I came to lunch the next day, Charlie was already waiting for me. He handed me a gift bag. “It’s a present,” he said. “For you.”

“What’s the occasion?”

“I’m moving. You might never see me again.”

“Oh, Charlie…”

“I say might. Might. There’s a chance we will meet again. Perhaps in another lifetime or in another universe. We can figure it out, alright? Alright.”

I shared my lunch with him, half a peanut butter and jelly sandwich, and we toasted to his new life with our milk cartons. When we left the library that day, our pinkies were interlocked. As he turned to go to class, I pulled him back, and kissed him on the cheek. “I’ll miss you,” I said. 

He hugged me. It was like hugging one of those plasma balls where your hair stands up when you touch it. I had just stuck my fingers in a socket, but when I pulled back, all I could see were Charlie’s grateful, glowing eyes. “I’ll miss you too. Goodbye, Esme. Goodbye.”

My hair on my arms was still standing up and my cheeks were dark with color. I had a mark on my pinkie from where it touched his.

Since that day, I haven’t seen Charlie Nguyen. Ernie is still doing tests and taking entries though they become more inconsistent and confusing each and every day. I have an idea of who’s altering his readings. The present Charlie gave me, though, might hold some importance for me in the future. It’s a key without something to unlock, a piece of quartz, his copy of Shakespeare’s Hamlet with all his annotations in the margins, and a pair of earrings with ghosts on them. Quartz conducts electricity. I remember learning that in class. I always keep it in my pocket now. When I ask my teachers about him, they seem confused, as do the other students. Ernie and I have seemed to make a silent pact as to not discuss the matters of the supernatural. I think he’s looking for Charlie. He’s looking for anything that will bring him closer to the truth.

I feel farther to the truth than ever before, but I know I cannot be far from it. It’s a matter of time. Ernie has begun to have headaches lately.

[solara-bean]

This is the very extensive and detailed rant of a fed up black, female student of class 2020

-You are free to scroll past this if you want. I really just needed to get this off my chest. But if you have advice or are experiencing a similar situation, feel free to message me-

So first off, I haven't liked going to school since I was 9. And highschool has only deepened my loathing of it. But maybe I don't hate school in general. Maybe I just hate the schools I've gone to ( 4 in total ). This rant is about highschool specifically. Perhaps what I'm about to type is normal and I'm overreacting. But I'm tired of not talking about my problems because I'm worried that I'll sound like an ungrateful brat. Typing/ writing about my issues makes me feel better. And I really need to feel better.

So here are the main points in order of severity: Low income, Advisory, Graphic Arts and Discipline/Work Ethic

Low Income:

I've only ever gone to low income schools in my neighborhood. I hoped high school would be different but thanks to the crappy education of my old school and an even crappier selective enrollment test score, I couldn't get into the schools I wanted. Then again my single mother probably couldn't afford those other schools anyway.

My highschool shares a building with another highschool. And unfortunately they called dibs on the best features and have control of the heating and ac. We don't even have our own gym. We also have the least amount of space with the smallest class being mine of 144 seniors. So there's a lot of packed classrooms.

Speaking of having way too many students, recourses are slim as a result. Our best equipment, chromebooks, need to be reserved weeks in advance by the teacher and even then they still may not be able to get enough of them for their class. Said chromebooks can often be missing keys, not work at all or be stolen easily because of their small size.

A few other issues are terrible lunches ( I've been bringing lunch from home since sophmore year), very limited field trips, mice infestation, very few clubs ( if we have any idk ) and teachers have to pay for just about everything class related.

Advisory:

Advisories were created to prepare us for greek life in college. I honestly think it's to keep everyone in check but ok. Even so I have absolutely 0 interest in anything frat or sorority related ( no offense to those who do ) as well as many of my classmates but advisory is mandatory.

My first 2 years of advisory were hell. Most of my advisory sisters were either people I'd never talk to because we weren't in the same class, had nothing in common or they were straight up terrible people. I should mention that freshman year has the worst students because about 30% don't make to the next grade or just transfer. Most of my advisory sisters I had problems with were in that 30% ( a few had already repeated ).

Since I kept to myself there were very few incidents were I was put into a tense situation with them. The main conflicts involved our advisor, who I guarantee you was not the problem. She was essentially a poor, white, optimistic, young math teacher from out of town that was thrown to the slaughter. And my cowardly self watched not wanting to be next.

She ended up leaving by junior year so what was left of my advisory merged with another and got a new advisor. The only downside is that our new advisor is a firm believer in " sisterhood " and no cliques ( even if you converse easier with a certain group of people and advisory is already a forced clique in itself ). Maybe I'd be more up for advisory events , which we rarely have , if my advisory experience wasn't sullied so early on.

Graphic Arts:

The reason I chose my school was because it had an art class. In seventh grade I knew I wanted to have a career in art and that my talent was lacking but had potential. So you can imagine my horror when I learned that the art teacher had left once I'd gotten there.

I was sad but stayed positive and even highly recommended them to get another art teacher. Then by sophomore we got an art after school program ( 4:25 to 6 twice a week ). I managed to keep my grades the same and take the classes every week for the entire school year. I only missed about 4 days total. For once I actually enjoyed staying after school.

The class taught me so much and I didn't have to wait for the summer to take an art class downtown. Even better I got to interact with other young artists of my race ( there was usually only one other black kid at the summer classes ). Everything was finally looking up.

Then the art galleries happened. The school hosted one per semester. I brought my art to display but I couldn't stay cuz of a shitload of math homework. I got complimented the next day but still regretted not staying. So I vowed to attend the next one with even more pieces than before.

The night finally came and I was hyped. Me and two seniors were in charge of doing caricatures for free ( one senior gave me a dollar tho ). I had fun with that but noticed something weird...none of our art was displayed.

Apparently they cut it out for time along with the theatre clubs performance. And I would've been fine with that. If my family hadn't come.

The icing on the cake was when they turned off the lights in the hallway where we were drawing the caricatures so they could start the show for the performing art groups. I couldn't contact my family until the show was over and booooiii were they pissed. Especially my mom. I was more sad than anything. I had a feeling my school valued the performing art more and this just proved that. At least now we have an actual art class. And my art teacher is awesome and supportive as hell.

Discipline/ Work Ethic:

These are together cuz they've equally fucked me up. Don't get me wrong. I have a 4.2 gpa and 0 detentions.

The problem is my classmates.

I have been to soooo many class/school meetings about behavior and grade issues over the past 4 years. One of which a staff member said " now i know all of ain't bs-in' but why aren't those people helping the ones who are."

Like wow! Thanks. I hate it.

I'd be happy to help my fellow classmates. It's just that their version of help is cheating off my tests and copying my homework.

So yeah my bad. I've been sooo selfish.

I can count on my hand the amount of times I've been told that I'm doing a good job directly and not in front of a class as a way to embarrass them.

This year behavior was so bad that they made a competition to see which advisory would get the least demerits. Big mistake. My heart goes out to all the poor well behaved students who lost because of a few advisory mates. It only takes one. The record for most demerits in a day was 30 I think.

I forgot the competition was going on at some point cuz I've only gotten 2 demerits in 4 years. My advisory won second and we played the waiting game for our prize only to have a pizza party with 17 other advisories. The winning advisory was salty as hell. But hey we got free lunch at least.

I managed to get good grades simply by doing everything on time and having no social life. This was by choice really. I promised myself I'd do better in college but now I gotta study for ap.

It was actually ap literature that gave me a new perspective on my classmates work ethic. We were given a lengthy reading assignment but the due date was stretched by two class days and the weekend. Even though I'd been mentally drained lately ( by lately I mean since the 1st week of school ) and had other work to do, I completed it with slightly less annotations.

Upon the due date I discovered that I and one other classmate completed the reading. Even the valedictorian didn't do it!!! And this wasn't a one time thing either.

In fact my class is notorious for never doing work on time. I'm talking completing-a-project-in-the-class before-the-it's -due- for bad. And some people I understand. Some of them really need help and resources. But every one else. Excuses excuses. The extended due dates gave me extra free time but it made the work I completed on time feel pointless. Like I could've just not done it and not face any consequences.

I tried that and was stressed out all day to the point of doing the work anyway. School's got me whipped I guess.

So if I hate highschool so much why do I go on time everyday, miss at most 3 days a year, do my work, behave myself and study??? Simple. I'm trying to get out. Having a good gpa and test scores will get me more scholarships cuz God knows my mom can't afford art college ( I got into my first choice so yeah:). Really highschool has just been a means to an end.

I've had my good days and have made some friends but I really just wanna run to hills with my diploma in hand. And thats what's kept me going. But now we're quarantined.

And my school has decided to make work optional.....and I have all A's......

Needless to say I've barely done any work at all. If we never have to go back theres a good chance I won't. I'm so numb at this point that I don't care that we may not have a prom ( aka the only dance I was ever going to go to ).

I'm just done. Done and fed up.

But thank you to my mom, family, bestie, teachers and my classmates that actually want to have a future for keeping me going. If I don't completely give up it's thanks to you. Future me, I hope you get everything you want at art school:)

[addierose444]

Reacting and Responding My Past Self

In decluttering my room, I discovered a letter I had written to myself at the end of 7th grade. It was actually a school assignment where we created time capsules for our 12th-grade selves. The items in my time capsule were actually fairly boring just track awards and photos that I still have digitally. I did read the letter at the end of last year, but in the busyness of graduating, I didn’t really think about what I had written. In this blog post, I will be reacting and responding to the letter. (I have corrected spelling and added paragraph breaks but have otherwise left the letter unchanged.)

Dear 12 grade Addie, Sorry about the late reply, but you just finished your first year of college at Smith!

When you were in 7th grade you loved juggling. Juggling is no longer a passion of yours, but you can actually still do it! You liked reading. Reading is still one of your favorite things to do! You were excited for the summer. You’re currently more excited about the fall, but summer is always fun. You were going to backpack on the Long Trail for a week. You will be getting back out on the trail this summer as well! You were also going to go to camp for three weeks. Your favorite musician was James Taylor. He is still your favorite musician! At the time you were excited for high school art. You still have a year of middle school left, slow down! You wanted to take pottery photography and drawing. Well, unfortunately, you didn’t take any of those classes. You were recruited into the jazz band as a bass player and as a result, didn’t take any art classes. Speaking of photography, you are about to start a 30-day photography challenge! You had two dogs Hank and Dixon. You now have Hank and Artemis (the half-brother to Hank). Your two favorite animals were dogs and dolphins. Dogs and dolphins are still your two favorite animals! Your favorite color was blue then green. Your favorite color is still blue, the runner ups are green and purple. Your room had light blue walls and two different green trims. Your room is still those colors, but some of the trim is now peeling. You had 7 other kids in your TA. The group definitely changed over the years. Our TA didn’t get along very well. I do remember that, but I can assure you that relations improved significantly after 7th grade. Your friends were Jesse, Lily, Maddie and Judith. Okay, your friend group really did shift during high school. For starters, half of those people changed schools. And now you’re a college student with new friends! People always called you Maddie and Maddie Addie. You hated your real name Adelaide. Unfortunately, you still hate the name Adelaide. 

You wanted to be a teacher when you were older. Next year, you will discover engineering! Now you are a college student majoring in engineering and computer science. You wanted to be really good at guitar. Playing guitar is still one of your favorite activities. You now own two guitars and music is one of your key focuses of 2020. You can read your 2020 goals here. You were 4’ 9’’ and had silver glasses. You are now 5’ and your eyesight has improved, so you no longer wear glasses! You weren’t nervous about high school yet. I don’t think you ever were, you were just excited. Besides, as an 8th grader, you took two high school science classes. You were upset about all the changes to the middle school. You had actually been happy in math with some challenge and kids at your level. You really liked the core you had you didn’t want it to change. You ended up with great teachers in 8th grade, but you are justified in being upset since your 7th-grade teachers had been an absolute dream team. 

Addie what do you want to do now? In terms of career, I want to be a computer engineer. In terms of my personal life, I have recently become interested in minimalism and want to generally increase the intentionality in my life. Have you seen Posey or Alice recently? Well, due to COVID-19 seeing people, even family is a bit more difficult. But we did stop by with birthday gifts for Posey at the beginning of the month. They are just starting school like you did 13 years ago. Do you still do sports? No. But since you were writing to twelfth grade us, she had just finished her tennis season as team captain. The team went to the championship which was really exciting. Are you more organized than you were in 7th grade? Not, sure but probably. Here are some blog posts about how I stay organized as a college student. Do you still enjoy school? Yes, I still love learning and believe in the power of education. Are you looking forward to the next 5 years? Yes, I am definitely looking forward to the future. What new tech has this world’s people invented? Nanotech is noteworthy. Do you remember your nickname for Hank? Of course, Baunksus! Do the 7th graders really look that small? Sort of, but you will be surprised by the tall ones who are taller than you. What was your favorite year at this school? No idea, but AP Computer Science A was my favorite class. Do you still use pen and paper or is it all computer. I mostly use a computer, but yes paper is still a thing. Even though I primarily use a computer, I still love pens and other stationery. I now write on an iPad with a fancy stylus called an Apple Pencil. I recently wrote a blog post about the technology I use in college. I am reading Days of Blood & Starlight. I have no recollection of that book, but cool. (The last sentence was written with my left hand.) You had just gotten a new cow. Within the past few weeks, two new calves have been born! He was a twin and had a broken leg. Xeno! You and Roshney tried to move the cows but they wouldn’t move. Your TA was Bodo, Emily, Isabel, Camron, Malone, Jared, Bryson, Roy. Track season just ended. Yesterday you won The Friendly Award from Jack. You gave Maddie the Awesome Recovery Award. You also won the Most Rookie events. You had a bean bag chair in your room in the corner. After many years, we just got rid of the bean bag chair.

During orientation, we were given a similar “assignment”. The timeline was much shorter in that we got our letters back at the end of a single school year. Since I had written letters to my future self before (at camps and such), I didn’t put much thought into my letter. I wish I had because looking back on my 7th-grade letter has been a lot of fun. Given how crazy the current moment in time is, consider writing your future self a letter or creating an entire-time capsule. I would recommend waiting at least 5 years before reading the letter or opening the time capsule. Otherwise, it won’t be all that interesting. If you are a rising first-year, I recommend tacking the letter-to-self assignment seriously, because that future self of yours will thank you. If you are worried that you will lose your letter, you can use this website instead. Beyond writing to your future self, this is a great moment for reflection.

[goffilolo]

Demise!Izuku as a Youtuber?

Yep! You heard me right. Demise server is a strange little land, full of strange little ideas, unfortunitely this one idea in particular wasn’t so little. So without further ado here’s all the shit we came up with in the server in regards to izuku as a youtuber within demise!au:

If Izuku was a YouTuber can you imagine the fucking chaos dumpster fire his channel would be

He's be like an edgy twink Jenna marbles(edited)

Doing Me time every damn day

bandit is jennas dogs

tenya is julien

He'd have weird ass videos like dipping bandits feet in red pet dye then putting a sign on him that says "you pet and you'll meet the last person who dared to"(edited)

And he's also make videos about him breaking into UA and interrupting classes and stuff

"hey gamers, today we're breaking into UA to see my boyfriend and read all of my friend's secret files"

And a video just of him filing Aizawa in weird places and at the end putting him on an inflatable mattress and watching him float away 

He wakes up in Canada

They don't know how or why

He just attaches a go-pro to trash bandit and let's him run wild. He probably has a seriesJust letting him loose in weird places

DONT LET TRASH BANDIT EAT AIZAWA'S SLEEPING BAG AT 3AM | VERY SCARY"hey guys so today ill be doing the 'How many bottles of quil can i steal before i get caught by Tsukabitch' challange. feel free to make a video of your own!" 

He probably dyes Bandit according to holidays and puts him as the profile picture. The kicker is, he only does it for holidays that his country doesn't celebrate

Like 4th of july

And Canada day

"Hewo soulless fuckers it is me your overlord, King of the soulless fuckers. Today I'll be going up to people in the streets and telling them that I killed God and Satan. But y'all know me, that's not enough. So I'll be asking them which one I killed first and if they get it wrong I take a shot of quil. The quil I'll be taking is the plain ol kind so don't worry your little marshmallow heads about it." 

He only makes text posts in OwO speak this just makes me realise demise!izuku would make a great youtuber

He would twitch stream all the time doing the weirdest shit for hours on end

"what is up gamews! today i wiww be weviewing the new game cawwed life! i have been pwaying it fow about 16 yeaws now and i have to say it's pwetty bad my guys!"

I feel like he'd be absurdly popular and whenever someone mentions him and they look up the channel they are like "wth have I stumbled upon?!"

I'm just imagining what his front page would look like

The seasonal trash bandit profile picture, the banner would be a flaming hellscape with people he dislikes burning and trash bandit looming on low opacity in the background 

(He made it so that only people who view it on TV get the full experience.)

He probably has his own segment on buzzfeed unsolved

Not talking

Its about him

The intro video would just be him staring into the camera while mixing together a horrible concoction of quil then downing it without breaking eye contact(edited)

His about section is written in 3 different types of code and it's all in owo if you manage to crack it

i love demise|!izuku as a youtube cryptid

Clown Speak and OwO speak mixed together

I feel like in the beginning Izuku was this obscure YouTuber that you only find out about if someone in the know tells you about it until a bigger YouTuber found him out on a deep dive video and just couldn't stop watching yes

i imagine once he gets big people from react channel would invite him to react to videos of people reacting to his videos 

What if in one of his videos he started acting like his old self just to freak everyone out. He didn't say anything about it instead he talked about hero analysis with a bright smile and trail off into muttering a few times only to blush when he realized it. He have his hair in a ponytail with only bangs framing his face and some messy pieces falling out. Also her be wearing something plain but like old Izuku, maybe hero merch or something. The comment section was just people flipping out and shit

He never acknowledges the video after he made it

No matter how many comments he gets he acts like it doesn't exist

omg you know wha tthat would actually allign with the demise and canon swap places for a da

yand you know what that gives me a lot of feels

the millions of subscribers get to see the old izuku

Maybe after a milestone he would post a video he made in middle school of him analyzing a quirk in video format to make sure it wouldn't get destroyed

And he put a couple videos of younger him after it

But it starts being supporting Izuku

And his present and past self and stuff

PEOPLE MAKE FAN ART first Its all full of trash and memes

What if that picture of canon Izuku meeting demise Izuku was a fan art someone made of his old self meeting the new him 

Kids from his class kinda Piecing together they really screwed up?Some even sending in apologies, perhaps

For mental health day I could see him posting a serious video about what he went through and his time in the mental hospital 

And on national stop bullying day he would talk about his decade of abuse including the details of how the school and teachers fucked up and everything aboutbakugou

izuku using youtrube for shitposting and advocating

And for mothers day he features both Rei and Inko?

Endeavor exposure video

What if Rei helped edit or something?To help pass the time for her

Give her something to do

People love the mysterious editor

I feel like villains watch his content like maybe Dabi

rei and fuyumi sometimes make appearances

Dabi just shows up in the videos

Quickly become faves

I feel like Dabi would become a fan and start crying after seeing his mom happy in one of Izuku's videos

"...and this is rei, my hospital mom and this if fuyumi, her daughter so like my sister she helps me keep my shit together and sometimes gives me quil.." 

dabi crying from seeing his mom happy in some lunatic's youtube videos

“...and this is shin, dont let the looks deceive you this man went to jail"

Shin comes in and covers the cameras a lot

FATHERS DAY IS A PICTURE OF TRASH BANDIT WITH HIS DADS VOICE SCRAMBLED OVER IT

“and this is the local florida woman and her alligator

WHAT IF BNHA VERSE HAD QUIRKLESS AWARENESS WEEKizuku would go ape shit during that week

"who needs a quirk when my dad gave me a gun!"

He would give axe sharpening tips

"Remember kids! Society won't help you, so you gotta help yourself!"

he would make 'how to cook videos' except it would only be quil combos

What if one day he just put quil in the ovenand pulled out a muffin

Remeber, don't try this at home kids." makes A horrifying quil combo "rememer never ever do this even if you have a quirk that allows it." downs the horror concoction

"so today were gonna do my boyriend does my makeup challange and since both me and tenya are dumb and know nothing i borrowed my mums makeup..." 

It’s a given he’s gonna do makeup tutorials. The real question is would they be good or absolutely horrendous?

good or horrendous? Both

Amazing makeup at horrendous things? Hmmm interesting

“Hey guys today I’m turning myself into a real like eldrich abomination with the help of eyeliner and glitter!”

izuku has a whole playlist of videos dedicated to tenya and UA

theyre all jsut shitposty compilations of some footage when tenya isnt looking

Even tho it looks like he couldn't give a fuck he is very selective with which footage makes it online. He's very careful at how much is revealed and makes sure no students or secret identities would be in danger with his content

izuku isnt stupid...hes jsut having a good time

Sneaking into UA highschool by hiding in pro hero eraserhead's sleeping bag | NOT CLICKBAIT

Izuku would totally play carefree and childish games while just being Izuku

Like his animal crossing series

Fucking legendary on his channel in terms of gaming

izuku's sims lets play

it's like a 10 generation long telenovela lowkey based off the todoroki family

He has no straight sims, he recreated UA and class 1a in sims

the wedding of sim izuku and sim tenya is like the biggest party in the sim neighbourhood

He creates endeavor just to lock him in a room with 50 ovens

Omg his draw my life has got to be super depressing

He'd be super blunt and monotone during his whole draw my life going through all of the abuse and bullying that he went through because of his quirklessness and also his suicide attempt and all that jazz(edited) 

izuku would paint on a potato

Izuku would make a get ready with me where he does something totally batshit crazy then ends it with "Ah. Yet another day in my life."

Izuku meets Marie Kondo

“Only keep what brings you joy”

“Well this gun from my father sure brings me joy”

Knifemaking videos but with axes

Izuku decided to do a wardrobe tour and like 4 things were bloodstained which he never addressed. The most popular comment was what happened, which of course he never answered.

Izuku does these new year (like all of the questions from last year) or milestone Q+A’s/AMA's which are basically people just asking a bunch of the things he wouldn't answer or address before. A lot of his viewers write down and timestamp when he does something and doesn't address it. If you don't you'll never hear an answer.

He has his boonk gang phrase which is probably like Bandit gang or some shit like that, which he shouts while breaking into places. UA dorm rooms, UA facility office, UA, Hero Agency’s, Endeavour's bedroom (Don't ask), etc. 

He has a variety of videos where he does things from different communities. For example he has a few hair tutorial and following hair tutorial videos. Same for makeup.I feel like Izuku would also have some dresses and slutty Halloween costumes that be put on in a video all while looking like someone who just had finals and was studying for 4 days straight beforehand.

At like 4AM a thought hit Izuku to have Trash Bandit meet Kouta for the first time and learn what his sheep talks about and what he has to say. Needless to say he took his camera, went to UA, stormed the dorms, went up to the shy kid sheep in hand, looked him dead in the eye, and asked “What is my sheep saying.” bandit speaks and Kouta goes from confused and slightly scared to disgusted and horrified. What did Bandit say? Who the fuck knows…

Izuku loves analysis and while he doesn't do it for heroes anymore when he misses it too much sometimes he does it with tv shows or other things.

Idk what yet but Izuku is weirdly good at something and only showed it on camera once. (He's casually known to be a good artist) Whatever he's good at he did it once for a video and it's in one of the most popular compilation videos of him. 15 minutes of Izuku being a cinnamon roll.

Izuku has a shit ton of videos featuring the UA kids. He has some playlists dedicated to certain ones even if all you see is the back of their head.

Any proceeds Izuku manages to get (he is popular but he gets demonetized a lot) goes to different charities for the quirkless.

He made only 1 serious cooking video on his birthday, but instead of using a knife he used an axe.

He has a video called “My sharp things (tour)” where he just shows off all of his knives and axes and shit along with a massive pair of scissors he got Momo to make.

Izuku makes videos of himself destroying endeavor merch while staring at the camera.

[chronictonsillitis]

If I Could Do It All Again (I Shouldn’t Still Want This) Chapter 7

“I don’t know. It’s like, I always knew she had been like that in high school, and somewhat I could see it at the beginning of sophomore year, but I really thought she’d changed.” Clarke snorted and Bellamy looked up. “What?”

Clarke suppressed another laugh, aiming for nonchalant and missing by a mile. “Nothing, I know that must’ve sucked for you, it’s just— I very much knew she hadn’t.”

Bellamy’s forehead creased and Clarke braced for a confrontation. “And just why is that?”

“Well, for one thing,” Clarke said, “She keyed my car.” ***** Bellamy and Clarke chat and almost have a conversation of substance.

(ao3) or (Start from the beginning) or

“Oh fuck off, that did not happen.” Clarke laughed, playfully pushing Bellamy as they walked side by side back to her common room. 

He raised his eyebrows dramatically. “Ah, but can you ever be sure?”

Things had been going well between them for the last few weeks, if still a bit surface level. Clarke enjoyed spending time with him, even if it did throw her off-kilter. She didn’t trust him, or didn’t trust herself, or maybe both, but it was hard to fight how right it felt to have him back in her circle.

She rolled her eyes. “Yes, I think I can say with some certainty that you did not tell Lincoln it was cool if he hooked up with your little sister.”

Bellamy threw up his hands jokingly and spun around, walking backwards as he faced her. “Okay, so maybe I didn’t say that. But I didn’t threaten him with bodily harm when he told me, so that’s like, pretty close.”

Clarke laughed again, and Bellamy spun back around mid-stride. Before he’d quite made it, he collided with somebody, and they both stopped. “Oh, sorry I didn’t see—Oh.”

“Oh?” replied Echo, somewhat scathingly.

“Echo.” Bellamy nodded at her and Clarke felt her stomach turn.

“Bellamy,” Echo replied, and she snorted, looking over at Clarke. “How cute. Like sophomore year all over again.”

“Guess so.” He shrugged his shoulders stiffly. Echo huffed out a cold laugh, and rolled her eyes.

“You should really watch where you’re going with that,” she lilted. The comment seemed to be about the collision, but her sharp glance toward Clarke said otherwise. “Wouldn’t want anyone to get hurt.”

Clarke watched as she walked away, slipping gracefully down the path. Bitch, she thought.

“Let’s go.” Bellamy’s voice was tight. 

Clarke nodded, and they made their way into her dorm in relative silence. The tensions was palpable as they dropped their things.

Clarke broke the silence first. “You can talk about it, if you want.”

Bellamy dropped heavily into a seat, letting out a deep sigh. “Sorry about that. Things between us are just—“ He stopped, rucking a hand through his hair. “I don’t know. They’re bad, I guess. I assume you’ve heard what happened, at the end.”

Clarke nodded carefully, sitting down beside him. She knew enough, if only from what he had told her when blacked out at the beginning of the year.

“She just…” Bellamy trailed off, searching for the right words. “She wasn’t mean when we we’re dating, at least not that I saw. But then we went abroad, and were in different places, for however long, and when I came back— something was different.”

Clarke, who had never had particularly positive feelings about Echo, struggled to remain objective. “She showed her true colors?”

She missed objective by a mile. Bellamy frowned, looking at his hands.

“I don’t know. It’s like, I always knew she had been like that in high school, and somewhat I could see it at the beginning of sophomore year, but I really thought she’d changed.��� Clarke snorted and Bellamy looked up. “What?”

Clarke suppressed another laugh, aiming for nonchalant and missing by a mile. “Nothing, I know that must’ve sucked for you, it’s just— I very much knew she hadn’t.”

Bellamy’s forehead creased and Clarke braced for a confrontation. “And just why is that?”

“Well, for one thing,” Clarke said, “She keyed my car.”

Clarke laughed as Bellamy’s eyebrows shot up. “What?! When did she do that?”

“The correct question is how many times she did that.” 

Was it wrong of Clarke to take pleasure in telling him this? Probably, but being petty had always been one of her most beloved characters flaws and she wasn’t just going to stop today.

“Are you…” Bellamy started, wringing his hands. “I’m not accusing you of making it up, but how do you know it was her?”

“I didn’t at first. My car got keyed twice, once during spring semester sophomore year, and once this past September right after school started. A couple weeks ago I was complaining about it to Roan, and he told me. He didn’t realize I didn’t already know.”

“Ah, Roan,” Bellamy said, a hint of bitterness seeping into his voice. “What a guy.”

Clarke frowned, not quite understanding. “It’s not like he meant to stir the pot by telling me. He just figured I would’ve known.”

“That’s not—“ Bellamy glanced up, his eyes meeting hers for a second before dropping back to his hands. “Nevermind. I’m sorry that she did that. If I’d have known—”

“But you didn’t know.” Clarke interjected. “It’s not your fault for wanting to think the best of your girlfriend.”

Why are you comforting him, Clarke? Her stomach flipped, but she continued, “You try to see the good in everyone. That’s not a bad thing.”

He was silent for a minute before he replied, his voice low. “Not in everyone. Not in you.”

Clarke's heart stuttered uncomfortably and she flushed. She could feel her fight or flight instincts kicking in, telling her to leave, to cover her ears, to get away as fast as she could.  “What?”

Bellamy looked at her, his expression inscrutable. She flinched involuntarily. “Not in you. With you I tried my best to ignore everything good, Clarke, for so long. Too long. But I couldn’t—”

“We don’t need to talk about this.” Clarke cut him off, resisting the urge to flee. She didn’t want to talk about it, didn’t want to hear about it, didn’t want to think about it. They could discuss what had happened between him and Echo all day, but not what happened between them. Things were good again and he should just let it be. Why couldn’t he just let it be?

“We do,” Bellamy replied firmly. “It’s not okay for me to keep this to myself. The way I acted, the things I thought, Clarke, I never ap—“

“Bellamy, please!” He startled, his eyebrows shooting up. Clarke’s voice was high, too high, and she hated it, hated her own vulnerability. Carefully, more calmly, she asked: “Can we please not talk about this?”

“Are you sure?” Bellamy looked at her, confused. “I think it might help—”

“Please stop!” She squeaked and he stopped. “I just really don’t want to talk about it.”

Bellamy’s eyes searched her face and she fought to keep her expression neutral, her heart racing and chest tight. I can’t breathe, she thought. I can’t breathe and I need to leave and I need him to stop looking stop looking stop—

“Okay.” His eyes dropped and Clarke felt the tension start to drain out of her, almost as quickly as it had arisen. “We don’t have to talk about it now.”

“Thank you.” She said tightly and he nodded, a bit stiffly. Was he disappointed? Clarke didn’t want to disappoint him but she couldn’t— she couldn’t. Even as her own panic abated, she felt a new tension settle around them: awkwardness. She wiped the sweat off her palms and grasped for an easy topic. “So how’s your thesis going?”

Bellamy’s eyes lit up. “I translated this new scrap of text about Auletrides, the flute girls at Ancient Greek Symposia, this week and it’s going to be super helpful. Did you know historical scholars really just assume since the flute players were women they had to be playing the metaphorical flute as well? Ridiculous.”

Clarke laughed. “The metaphorical flute? Oh my god.”

Bellamy shrugged and they both grinned at each other, the awkwardness passing. “How about you? Double major, double thesis right?”

Clarke groaned. “Well, for chem it’s most of the way there, but my thesis advisor is Professor Tsing and she wants me to die, so I’m sure there will be major edits. I have almost all the pieces for my arts showcase but Vera said something about it lacking heart or something vaguely insulting like that. She made that face where her mouth pinches up like she swallowed a lemon which means she wants to say she doesn’t like it but she can’t.”

“You mean the face she makes every time she sees my drawings?” Bellamy asked, chuckling. “And here I thought she was just shocked by my artistic genius.”

“Yeah right.” Clarke scoffed. “You wouldn’t know art if it slapped you across the face.”

“Oh yeah, princess?” Bellamy smirked and scooted closer, Clarke unconsciously echoing his movement. “You wouldn’t be planning on slapping me, now would you?”

Clarke could feel her heart rate pick up. Her head felt light and her face warm. “And what exactly in that supposed to mean?”

“Oh, I think you know.” Bellamy’s voice was low and Clarke fought the urge to shiver. This is a not a good idea, part of her thought, but she brushed it off.

“Do I?” She asked breathily. 

“You really need me to spell it out?” Bellamy laughed and shifted closer still. “Well, princess—”

“Sup bitches!”

Murphy and Raven burst in unceremoniously and flopped down next to them on the couches. Clarke blushed, realizing how close she and Bellamy had gotten. She shifted back in her seat, trying not to look guilty. There was no reason to feel guilty, it’s not like they were doing anything. They were just talking. Murphy slung an arm over her shoulder.

“So what thrilling and exciting topics are we discussing today?” He drawled.

Clarke shoved his arm off of her. “Art class.” 

Bellamy eyed Clarke, his face falling slightly with emotion that she couldn’t, or did not care to analyze. She looked away and pasted on a smile. “So, what are we doing tonight?”

Other than making bad fucking decisions, she thought.

[idk-loving-kpop]

FYI SUPER LONG POST!  You have be warn, but still show it some love. okay!

OKAY!!! Super excited!!! Cause 1 this is the LAST ONE I have before I open my ships again. 2 I LOVE doing my “triple threats” with BTS. Okay cause after Super Junior, BTS is my bias group (no thanks to my friend who ask me to go to their concert, literally I went to their concert & became a fan of them because I saw them live.)  

This person sent me the request via messaging ... She requested Selca, Written & Astrology.

When people request all 3 ships this is how I do them.

1st : Selca - To me easiest ones you can do. I base it on looks & vibe.

2nd: Written - How person describes his/herself looks & personalities.  The more details the better. JUST DON’T START WRITING YOUR AUTOBIOGRAPHY. *lol*

3rd: Astrology -  This take me the longest to do because especially if I have to compare DOB.  And I have to check astrology signs for the members, which at this point I have some memorized, but some I don’t. 

----------------------------- LET US BEGIN  -----------------------------

DOB: DAY/MONTH/YEAR

I'm 5'4, slim thick/hourglass figure (a uk size 8 but my breast are +DD and my waist is 24 inches so it gets hidden by my boobs a lot which is honestly kind of annoying), I have brown eyes, and naturally dark brown hair buts its bleached platinum blonde and its shoulder length.

I am a ambivert. I can be outgoing when a want but its usually around people i'm comfortable around or familiar surroundings. but I can also be quite withdrawn and shy especially around someone I like. I have social anxiety which makes me a lot more quiet around new people or in situations which involve public speaking (I even start shaking because my anxiety levels spike so high). I love music and am always singing. I can't dance but I really love dancing and at one point wanted to be a dancer but I never really got a chance to take any lessons or anything so...yeah. I'm a creative person so I enjoy art such as drawing and painting when I feel motivated to. I love love love reading my favourite book is probably The hobbit by Tolkien. tbh i'm interested in anything that tickles my fancy. I'm a huge nerd! Anime, memes, vines, manga, video games I love it all. My fave video games are interactive ones like Tomb Raider, Outlast, Uncharted, Dead Space, etc. I'm studying History and Archaeology at Uni and museums are my second home. Although I am quite soft spoken and kind hearted (I literally cry if something on tv is heart-warming or sad like if a dad and his son have a heart to heart and hug or something) BUT I am also outspoken. My BS meter is low so if someone is chatting shit about something i don't agree with such a racism. sexism, homophobia, xenophobia, men staring or harassing women or girl, etc I have to say something. I just can't sit there and let it be. I am quite outdoorsy I love working out, running, martial arts, football, etc. I grew up going football club and taking karate and MMA so I've always been pretty active. also lowkey i'm a huge tree-hugger (literally and mentally) I once bumped into a tree and hugged it and said sorry....I studied Geography in High school and sixth form so i'm very passionate about the environment, animals, etc. P.S. I LOOOVE ANIMALS mainly cats overall I am a huge sucker for animals. I'm also a older sibling so i'm quite protective of the ones I love and literally would do anything for them or to protect them. I have insomnia so i'm a night owl but I've always been like that I usually only sleep for about 4-5 hours and i'm good to go. I love having deep conversations late at night with my sister, thinking about trippy things like what the meaning of life is and if aliens exist or if planet of the apes actually happened and what would we do? I also really enjoy movies; mainly horror movies even though they scare the shit out of me, I still watch them. Also i'm all about girls supporting girls. Girl power all the way. I also south Asian so desi culture is also very important and very prominent in the way I behave. I usually speak a mixture of Urdu and English in my sentences as opposed to just speaking one language at a time. I really love languages so i'm also learning Korean and i'm studying latin at Uni. i think that's all.....i'm pretty sure i left something out but it feels like I've been typing for years so i'm going to stop now...soz if this is a lot. also i wrote this as fast as i can so i apologise for the spelling and grammar mistakes

Damn ... I didn’t know how much you wrote until I copied & pasted on the post . *lol* ... It didn’t seem that long when I was reading it.  Ok, so I put in bold stuff that stood out to me ok.  

FYI shout to all the girls w/ big boob problems ... I have the same issue it is really annoying.  I joke w/ my friend all the time that I would give her half of my boobs / body fat cause she is skinny a flat . *lmao*

I can’t help myself so I will make some comments ... I am the same way, I can’t sing or dance (even though I am Latina) but I do it anyways because ever sine I was little I love music & boy groups. So I will keep on doing me. I have a great work environment that we do that at work sometimes too. I’m not a talented in the arts what so ever. But I have always loved and appreciated them. 

That is so interesting that you are studying that in Uni. History has always been my favorite subject, quiet a nerd when it comes to almost got a perfect score on my state test when I was in school (fyi I hated school but I liked learning). Not many people study that in Uni/College. 

The tree incident made me laugh so much ... Again your not alone cause I sure do have a picture when I was on a high school trip of me hugging a tree. *lmao* 

The meaning of life, is different for everyone.  We can’t have functioning society without everyone doing their own part.  Everyone life means something, no life is great than another life. 

Aliens do exist.  Our universe is so big for just the human race to exist. Also I grew up watching Star Trek and I like watching Doctor Who. 

If planets of the apes happen I would die.

When I read “girl power” literally said it like Spice Girls with the peace sign & everything …

Okay I will shut up now & get to the ships …

Western Sign:  Pisces    Eastern Sign: Tiger “Ideal” Partners for Pisces: Cancer and Scorpio “Ideal” Partners for Tiger: Horse and Dog

BTS Selca – JHope (Aquarius / Dog)

BTS Written – RM (Virgo / Dog)

BTS Astrology – Suga (Pisces / Rooster)

Western – Suga

Eastern – RM & Jhope

 Comparing DOB Suga matched better, followed by Hobi a close second and then Namjoon.  

 Shout out to V who came in 2nd place on my Selca & Written.

Stray Kids Selca – Hyunjin (Pisces / Dragon)

Stray Kids Written – Lee Know (Scorpio / Tiger)

Stray Kids Astrology – Lee Know (Scorpio / Tiger)

Western – Lee Know & Hyunjin

Eastern – Lee Know

  And NO I didn’t plan it like this it sort of just happen.  And yea it is a lil freaky that Astrology ships kinda had the answers to Selca & Written … For Stray Kids couldn’t find much of their personality or ideal type so I kinda based it on hobbies more than anything. Probably has the years go by & they do more interviews and stuff, I can better match them with people.

Hope you like your results.

And let me know what y’all think! 

[flockofdoves]

4, 9, 25!

omg.. these are all questions when looking through it i was like. i have a lot of Thoughts abt those ones fdkgjhdfkg. thank you angel!!! also please don’t feel obligated to read All This

i’m kinda embarrassed i wrote this much but i’m not good at editing things down after the fact

4. do you like your name?  is there another name you think would fit you better?

i do! chiara is my birthname and at times through my life i’ve wished for a more androgynous/masculine name but i guess like. my name and its pronunciation and spelling and what it meant to my mom in naming me has been consistent throughout my life i don’t feel like myself without that. if i grew up in italy i’d probably feel differently though bc at least in the north its become like . italian “maddie” lol i get so confused when i go there bc all of a sudden i’ll be hearing my name everywhere

chiaroscura i came up with as a melodramatic kid after i got excited about reading the tale of despereaux that the rat character chiaroscuro had a name so similar to mine and i thought it was cool he shortened it to roscuro. i liked the art style too and it helped people know how to pronounce my name sometimes. no one irl really called me roscura but i’ve been going by it online in addition to chiara since i was a tween

i’ve tried to go by other names throughout my life like cj and arie (pronounced in 3 syllables ah-ree-ay) and rio but none of them really stuck outside of very specific contexts even if i wanted something more androgynous i think i’m just ingrained with this. i’ve thought about having it be chiaroscuro instead but chiaro for short just seems dumb. idk. and even if roscuro sounds fine roscura isnt just Me me its also a name i really associate with like uhhhh.. some dissociative alter stuff so i wouldnt want to take that away from her idk

i was sure when i was younger i’d want to change my middle and last name. my middle name is anne lol so thats very common and i thought it was boring and didnt feel like Me and too feminine etc but in the past couple years with my nana (dads mom) dying and her name was ann and then also my grandma (moms mom) is annette and my moms own middle name is anne i guess even if i dont like it without context i can keep it for history

similarly with my last name. its anglicized swedish and i have no connection to that part of my family and when i was having a really difficult time with my dad i didn’t want it but now that hes died and our relationship got better towards the end i’m more okay with it.

not sure what i’ll do if i ever get married. also have considered changing my name if i ever have trouble with how fucking stupid i’ve been with being openly a communist/disabled/gay/etc online with my full name since i was 11 lol but i doubt that

9. are you an artist?

lol. i’m not sure anymore tbh :( i at least drew stuff almost every day of my life up until like a bit over a year ago now and even if i didn’t think i was any “good” compared to my peers in like . high school AP art who went on to art school and stuff it was a big part of my identity but i let myself fall out of it even when i’d never let depression do that before and just didn’t get that momentum again. i stress about it almost every day since then i keep saying i’m Finally getting back into it but beyond like . art therapy when i was in a php program or the couple sculpture classes i took before i had to drop out of even part time classes and then a few sketches i still haven’t really provably picked things up again. and its not just digital art or cartooning its also my other creative passions like making clothing and cosplay and making stories i feel like a shell of a person without it i’m tired of saying i’ll Soon get back into it. got as far as sketching something for an actual traditional art thing last week so maybe if i finish that i can prove to myself again. i think i have trouble and why i stopped is i wasn’t doing art because i enjoyed the process anymore, i wanted the final product to be good and got discouraged and fell into a grating routine to make art. i need to learn how to enjoy that process again (or just? let myself? idk) i really need to learn that with making comics because i don’t have much proof at all that i can make things beyond like. 6 pages long. and of course with webcomics you’re constantly learning and growing in developing them thats part of the medium. i want to be able to call myself an artist again even if its hard to see that right now. i almost started drawing before i started answering this right now. i hate that i keep pushing it off. i’ve definitely said this before, but it has to be soon

25. could you live as a hermit?

i think this past 9 months has been the closest i’ve ever been to a hermit and its made me very confident that i absolutely could not lmao. i’m so sick of this i need to see proof of life beyond this place and with irl interaction with loved ones beyond my mom on a regular basis stagnating here for even a few months longer is just too much i don’t even feel like a real person anymore and thats concerning on multiple levels lol. its wild to me i even got to this point and kind of ironic that i feel the most isolated i’ve ever felt once i moved to one of the biggest cities in this country. right now i’m sustaining myself by chasing hope of a way out with the start of maybe actual concrete steps towards just . seeing people i love again irl. but honestly even that is freaking me out because realistically it might take longer to get out of this than i’d like to and i really can’t handle being in this situation more than a few months more.

also just in a general sense i think humans need to collaborate and provide for each other. individualist fantasies of just providing for oneself and not having to care for others both jsut . tend to not actually be accurate and can be pretty reactionary. so many people are so isolated in many ways under capitalism and that makes divide and conquer easier but to ensure a future where that won’t be the case we need to build community/dual power/solidarity/etc etc. i feel a bit guilty i’m not putting my actions where my mouth is with that as an individual right now but i guess it makes sense how i got here when so much is structurally at play. its weird intellectualizing that balance sometimes.

i’m so sorry this turned into some fucking . vent tumblr therapy session jesus christ fdgkjhd