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amee-racle-ofmyown · 1 year ago

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Hey, Amee!! I hope you’re doing well <3

If by any chance you’re up to it, could you please write a fic about Heist Mark being super jealous of Yancy because he and Y/N clearly seem to be into each other?? I LOVE your art and writings and I couldn’t get this idea out of my head <3 (Obviously no pressure, though!)

I'm so happy to hear you enjoy my work, thank you🥺💖 and thank you for your request! it got me out of a terrible writer's block. on that note, sorry this took quite some time, I've been in a bit of a funk of on and off general creative block, and unable to finish any writing at all for even longer. this was a pretty fun challenge! I myself view Yancy platonically so I wasn't quite sure where to go with this initially, and I had to fight every urge to just make this heist mark x y/n dfsjsjsv. that said, it did end up being more heist mark-centric than maybe you intended? in which case, I'm sorry, I couldn't help myself😔 yancy is there but very briefly haha

Don't you tell me that you never even thought, 'maybe we could run'

2,603 words | Read on AO3

‘We're all gonna be rehearsing tomorrow so youse best get some sleep.’

You nod as you close the gate to yours and Mark's shared cell, stifling a yawn.

‘Goodnight, Yancy.’

You hold each other's gaze for a moment, before he turns and heads off, a tattooed hand over the back of his neck and a sweet smile still on his face. You watch as he disappears into the outer hallway and a guard appears to lock up your cell for the evening.

Your long-time accomplice and friend stands at the edge of your vision, arms folded.

‘Having fun with your new boyfriend, buddy?’ he asks, sounding unimpressed and slightly strained.

‘Oh, shush, Mark,’ you chide, but your stomach flips at the notion.

‘Yeah… Well, while you were busy playing Broadway,’ he glances to either side of the cell outside and continues in a lowered voice, ‘I've been hard at work hatching our escape. And I'm telling you, it's foolproof.’

‘Uh huh. As foolproof as your other three failed plans? I really don't wanna get thrown in solitary again.’

‘Please, that was one time! — and I don't see you bothering to come up with any ideas. Even though you pretty much got us into this mess.’

That accusation ticks you off, but you're quick to retaliate.

‘Are you seriously still hung up on that? How is this my fault? You couldn't fly a helicopter, why would you assume I can? You shouldn't have even presented it as an option!’

Your exclamation earns you a couple looks from other inmates slowly filing into their cells for the night.

‘Nevermind that now,’ Mark says, infuriatingly placatingly, ‘do you wanna hear the plan or not?’

The thread of uncertainty that you've been avoiding coils tight in your chest and you pause, wondering how to bring up what's been nagging at you for days.

‘Um, so, I've been thinking. What if… what if we don't try to escape?’

‘Ha ha. Funny joke, pal.’

‘I'm serious, Mark. We could just… stay here and wait out our sentence, if we play it safe we might even get our time reduced on good behaviour. We could be gone in like a decade. Or a few years! Maybe. Probably. Maybe.’ Wishful thinking, perhaps.

He scoffs, as if the idea isn't even worth considering.

‘There is no way you're genuinely telling me to just wait it out. Maybe you haven't noticed since you've been in la-la land lately, but we're not on vacation, we're in prison,’ Mark spouts, voice growing thick with agitation. ‘What was supposed to be the heist of a lifetime, would've set us up for decades to come, is still on the line! And we're on a bit of a time crunch here — I don't trust that warden guy one bit with the Box, or in general,’ he sneers. ‘I mean what kind of name is Murder-Slaughter? Ugh, do we even know for sure if he still has it?’

‘Yancy mentioned seeing it in his office the last time he was there, which was earlier today, so yeah, probably.’

‘Ugh, there you go again about Yancy. It's always Yancy this, Yancy that, blah blah blah, Yancy!’

‘Wh– I was just answering your question!’

‘Y'know what? I'm sick and tired of being the only one taking this seriously while you act like it's all a big party.’

He places a hand on his hip, the other poking a finger towards you as he speaks. It would be comical, if he wasn't acting like a jerk.

‘What's up with you?’

‘What's up with me? What's up with you? You seriously wanna stay in this— this shithole, ‘cause of what? Some pretty face you've known for all of like, less than two weeks??’

‘Oh my God, Mark, it's not that terrible, and Yancy is actually my friend, he's been nothing but welcoming and kind since we got here, and—’

‘Oh, did you forget that he tried to beat you up when you first met? Real interesting, how you let that little detail slip.’

‘We just got off on the wrong foot, he's really—’

It's then that you see it — something in the slight hunch in his gait, the furrow of his brow, his pursed lips and tense jaw — and you wonder why you hadn't noticed before. It's not just anger and frustration, it's something bitter and personal.

‘Mark… are you jealous?’

Bingo. His eyes only widen a sliver, for a fraction of a second, but you're so used to reading him that even the most imperceptible of reactions on his usually very expressive face have become familiar to you.

‘Psh. I'm not jealous.’

‘You so are jealous! Oh my god, you're super duper jealous,’ you say with a grin, revelling in this new information.

‘Shut up, why would I be jealous?’ he protests, trying to sound nonchalant. But it's too late. You've already seen through it.

‘Is that what this is about?’ you say with a laugh. ‘You just want my attention back or something?’

He stares blankly for a moment.

‘Are you serious right now? You actually think the only reason I'm mad is because some random dude just waltzes in and starts acting all buddy buddy with you and you fall head-over-heels,’ he jeers with his hands either side of his face, fluttering his eyelashes mockingly. ‘Hook, line and sinker.’

‘Mark—’

‘I mean, never mind your partner, right? You know, your best friend who you've known and worked with for years? Who cares what he thinks?!’

‘Mark, I—’

‘In fact, he can get punched through a wall for all you care! You won't even bat an eye, as long as there's a random spontaneous musical number immediately afterwards, it's all in good fun!’

‘Ok, that's not fair,’ you push back. ‘Of course I was worried! But I was also surrounded by violent criminals at the time, we've been over this!’

‘Oh, so they're “violent criminals” now? But they're simply “hurt, misunderstood souls” when it suits you?!’ he shoots back, making air quotes to emphasise his point.

‘They're people, Mark! They're allowed to be… multi-faceted!’

‘Lights out, everybody,’ comes a guard's voice, ringing through the hallway as it suddenly becomes dark, save for the glow of dim lamplight emanating from one or two of the other cells.

‘Whatever, let's just get some sleep,’ Mark grumbles under his breath.

‘You always do this!’ you whisper harshly, but inadvertently let the volume slip back into your voice as you feel your blood boil. ‘You try to cut things off and act like the “bigger person” just to get out of an argument that, newsflash, YOU'RE LOSING.’

‘Oh, whatever, what-f*cking-ever!’

‘You're being so damn overdramatic, Mark! It's not like I'm trying to break up our team.’

‘Yeah, well– well maybe we should!’

You don't know why it jolts you like a gunshot when he says it, but it does. His words, the force and resentment behind them, pierce you to your core. It stops any quick-fire response you had at the ready in its tracks.

Regret immediately flashes across his face, but he quickly attempts to cover it with a steely, hardened gaze. ‘Clearly, we want different things. So maybe it's for the best.’

‘Hey!’ one of the guards calls out from across the hall. ‘Lights out means quiet, you two. Don't make us separate you into different cells.’

With a frustrated huff, you reluctantly traipse off to bed, yours being the lower half of the bunk while Mark settles above you.

It really is a rather decent bed. The mattress is nothing special, but comfortable, and the soft blanket is accompanied by an oddly luxurious, fluffy pillow. Definitely above what you'd expect is probably average prison standards. Frankly, you don't know what Mark's problem is with this place. It's honestly not half bad. As far as you expect jails go, it surely could be a lot worse.

You lay back and let your breathing even out, trying your best to allow some of the bubbling anger to die down. Eventually, you hear the guards leave.

Time passes, it could be minutes or hours; it's not like the passage of time has felt right at all to you since that last heist.

It's silent, save for the sound of your breaths and Mark's above you. You're still upset with him, but the sound of him breathing nearby has always been oddly comforting. The two of you have had plenty of close calls as a pair — even times when you had to patch each other up after jobs that went particularly badly. If you got injured on a heist, you couldn't simply call an ambulance or show up at a hospital in an emergency and risk having your whole operation blown. That was simply the nature of your line of work.

At the worst of times, as long as you could hear those steady, even breaths, you could tell yourself he would pull through, and things would be fine.

You idly watch the mattress above you, letting the rhythm of your friend's breathing become a gentle white noise, and think.

You think about that heist and the Box. Ancient, coveted, mysterious. Sitting atop its perch in the museum vault, in all its glory and allure, practically asking to be stolen. The gleam of the gem encrusted in its surface. You wonder if the prize held within would be worth all of this, if you managed to get it back.

You think about Yancy, a little rough and a little troubled and not seeing much point in trying to kick old habits; but fun and soft and sensitive and full of remorse. You think about the feeling of your hand in his when you practise a routine with him, how his whole face lights up when he's excited or falls when he's sad or pensive. You think about how he has made this penitentiary into a home, and these inmates into a family.

You think about Mark. Silly, stupid, steadfast Mark, snarky and thoughtful and loyal. Who isn't actually as dumb as he lets on. Who is resourceful and quick-thinking when a plan needs to be formed. Who makes bad puns and trusts you whole-heartedly, and who always lets you decide which course of action to take, no matter how much he disagrees, simply due to his unwavering faith in you. Mark, your co-worker, your friend, your partner in crime. Who is maybe a little enamoured with you, despite you trying to ignore it. Who you half-heartedly agreed to go on a date with, not having it in you to turn him down, nor prepared for the guilt that would be eating away at you now.

You think about one of the first things he told you when you landed yourselves at Happy Trails: About how he doesn't belong here, but maybe you do. What if he were to leave and you were to stay? The thought breaks your heart a little.

Then, a whisper from above into the quiet, gently interrupting your thoughts.

‘Hey, you still awake?’

‘...Yeah.’

You hear his voice, soft-spoken, but clear enough that you can hear the sincerity laced into it.

‘I… I'm sorry. I didn't mean to get so worked up.’

‘Yeah, I'm sorry too,’ you reply, matching his volume.

‘And I didn't mean it,’ he says, and you think you hear the slightest tremble in the statement, almost as if he's fighting tears, and for a second you wish you could see his face, ‘what I said before, about uh, splitting up. I know I joke about that kind of thing all the time, and not coming back for you… But you know I don't really mean it, right?’

You've certainly had your doubts in the past, but those moments seem so far away now; footnotes in a slowly unfolding tale, stepping stones on the journey the pair of you have taken together as you worked your way from theft to theft to get to this point. As much as you'd butt heads over the years, you could always count on each other and you always stuck together.

‘Right?’

‘Yeah, I know…’

‘...And, alright, your lack of interest in breaking out aside, maybe I am kinda jealous.’

‘Ha! I knew it.’

‘Yeah, yeah.’ He sighs. ‘It's just… it took us a while to be like we are now and yet, you're suddenly so close to him when it hasn't even been that long, it just doesn't feel fair. I dunno, it's stupid.’

‘Nah, I get it. I'm sorry if I made you feel left behind.

‘And I'm sorry if I ever made you feel pressured into something you're actually just not all that into.’

You feel a bit of tension leave your chest as a small smile appears on your face. ‘I appreciate that.’

In some ways you're grateful for the small bed separating you and preventing you from being face to face. You think it makes this easier for both of you.

‘I don't want to lose you, y'know? I mean, we're supposed to be partners. Ride or die, remember?’

‘Oh, Mark… You know I still trust you with my life…’ You pause, considering your words. ‘For the first time in ages, things feel a little more complicated than just being about us.’

A beat, then you hear him inhale, and he says your name, foregoing any of his usual nicknames.

‘...Are you… happy here? Does he make you happy?’

‘There's things I miss about freedom, sure, but it's not so bad here. And let's face it, our crimes were probably gonna catch up to us eventually, one way or another, right? And Yancy…’ You let out the smallest huff of laughter, smiling to yourself once again. ‘You're right, it hasn't been very long… There's just something about him, I guess. I know he might be a little much at times but I enjoy being around him, and he honestly seems like he wants to make up for things he's done in the past by being here. Maybe nothing will come of this but even so, in a weird way, he kind of makes me want to do better?’

Mark breathes a good-natured huff of laughter as well, and the two of you take a moment to muse on the irony of that sentiment.

‘I just– I can't handle being stuck here,’ he finally says. ‘But you're right, nothing I've tried so far has worked, anyway.’

‘Y'know… Yancy knows all the ins and outs of this place. He could probably help us if we wanted it.’

‘Do you want it?’

Do you want to leave or stay? The real question beneath it all.

You're quiet again, and it feels as if every possibility is laid out before you, only obscured.

‘I don't know,’ you say eventually. ‘I need more time to think. I just don't want you to think I'm making a choice between you or him, there's so many other things I need to consider. That we need to consider.’

‘That's fair… Just don't take too long, ok? Not like we can pause or rewind time, haha.’

‘Right… In the meantime, could you at least try to get along with Yancy and the others? You might like them if you give them a chance.’

‘... Fine, I'll try,’ he acquiesces.

You raise a hand to your mouth to cover a yawn. A far more comfortable silence falls over the room, and you start to feel sleep overtake you.

‘... Hey, Mark?’

‘Yeah?’

‘We're still partners.’

If nothing else, you hope this will reassure him.

‘...Ok. Sweet dreams, partner.’

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popironrye · 8 months ago

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Art block hitting me like a mother-

Decided to throw a little meme together.

It's no shock I got a lot of ocs, and thanks to a mutual who had me sit down and go through them, I got 34 ocxcanon ships alone. So narrowing this meme down wasn't easy. But I gave it shot! Read more if you wouldn't mind me rambling some more <3

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Because They're Cute: Laura Kinney (specifically from the X-Men Evolution cartoon) snagged the cute category cause she's as adorable as she is deadly. And with her is my x-men oc Savannah Lane, to whom I am very attached to so I had to include her. I think the two work best as misunderstood friends that mirror Sabretooth and Wolverine on paper and grow to care deeply for one another. X3

Because They're Pretty/Handsome: The Captain from the Hellsing Anime is one of those characters that intrigue me and made me want to see more of him. Like Savannah, the oc of choice I ship with him is another I hold very dear. Luciana Rosa. The two have a great back and forth as enemies to lovers as the two go from opposition to Luciana fighting for a more equal partnership where The Captain is always by her side that turns into something more when Luciana defies death by becoming a werewolf and loses everything she had. <3

Because They're Sexy: Victor Creed (In this instance, the Origins: Wolverine version) is THAT kind of character for me. The oc I started off with him is Janet Lane. Savannah's mother. And what was going to start of as a one time fluke actually became a more on again off again thing cause I liked their ship so much. Heck in a alternate take of the movie where Victor and James roles are reversed, I actually made Janet and Victor married and he's a great family man. The two may not be the most official thing in my mainline, but a mutual casual hookup every now and then is good too...for now. ;3

Because They're Badass: Had to get another Hellsing character in here, and who better than Integra Hellsing herself? I created my oc Henry for no other reason than I wanted to go a much more old fashioned long family name to uphold the business where Integra actually has kids of her own. And I am so glad I did, cause their fankids are characters I love! But even beyond the kid aspect, I do think Integra and Henry are really cute. Henry is practically a non goth Gomez Adams. He adores the ground Integra walks on and would do anything for her. :3

Because I Feel Bad For Them: Oh Teddy Lobo, you pathetic chaotic dumbass. Obnoxiously loud and over confident to the point I can't help but think it's all a big act to shield away some deep insecurities, fear, and cowardice. For this reason I went the whole gang warfare angle and created Anastasia Zbikoski. A feisty Slavic goth goddess part of a rival mob family. They two are super fun to write as the most intense enemies to lovers that may turn into a bit of Romeo and Juliette situation when Teddy realizes that while he loves to annoy the hell out of her and wreck her family business, he doesn't want her dead. Stasha on the other hand loves to inflict pain on Teddy whenever she can, but actually killing him never comes to mind. As far as she'll admit, killing each other would cause too much inner conflict with their families, but truth be told she'd miss him. XP

Because I Relate to Them: Ok, I'm cheating on this one, but I wanted to talk about both of them, so there. As a codependent twin myself, I feel the heck for Stanley Pines in Gravity Falls. But of course I couldn't leave out Stanford! Especially with all you weirdos that love to villainize him. I will be taking no Ford slander here! Anyway, the ocs for the gilf twins are Frida Guevara for Ford and Wanda Lovelace for Stan. Frida and Wanda have been childhood friends for years, they're practically sisters. Wanda got Frida out of an abusive marriage and helped her raise her two daughters. The two have lived together for decades, and the wholesome dynamics between them and the brothers is sweet. :)

Because They're My Type: Cheating again, but IDC! Technically the ocs I ship with the lost boys keep the boys poly, so I say it counts! In the picture shows Paul and Dwayne, who I think would be my type the most, but really I would be doing a disservice not to say David, Star, and Marko are totally my types as well. I mean, they're 80s bad boys, most have long hair and facial hair, ride motorcycles, and are secretly monstruous blood thirsty vampires. What's not to love? Just for them, I have the ocs Barbara Whitman, Stevie Holloway, and Maryanne Briggs. A trio of witches that catch the vampires eyes for their unique style and hearty personalities. Plus they're hot goths, what's not to love? For these girls I chose to keep the boys poly, meaning I not only ship them with all 4 girls (4 cause I gotta include my girl Star), but each other as well. I like to keep it like this for unique dynamics and a wide pool for their relationship that would be too limiting if I'd ship them monogamously. After all, the member that winds the girls into the vampire circle isn't any boyish charms, it's Star and Barbara's openly bisexual ass. XP

Because They're Underrated: Maxwell Lawrence from the same movie, you are loved here! For the main antagonist of the movie, I don't see many people talking about him. Granted they're so many good characters in the lost boys, I can see while our vampire dilf often gets left behind his much more show stealing lost boys. But for me, he needs love and that love comes in the form of my oc Judith Fairbourne. A older mother of girls. (and lycan but cross that bridge when they get to it) who he just swoops in with the goal of calling him the mother of his weird little family. It actually works well in his favor as I think Judith and Max work well off each other, in that older with more life experience way. Judith is very receptive to Max's flirting and does much flirting of her own. Max gets a chance as a girl dad and getting parenting tips from Judith while she gives the boys some much needed motherly attention. In addition, Judith's triplets and baby daughter have this cute sibling dynamic with the boys and I just think they're neat.

Because of Their Hatedom: While I know she's super popular in the male furry kink community, the general feedback I've seen is some pretty unfair hate on Loona from Helluva Boss. Sure, she's overly aggressive and moody to people that may not deserve it, but the amount of people I've seen wish actual death on her is crazy, especially in defense to Blitzo who is also a tragic victim of abuse and copes by being overly rude, violent, and creepy. I'm serious when I say that I think if Loona was a male character with the same mannerisms and slap stick, she wouldn't be as hated. You gotta remember Loona is a young adult coping from a life of being abused, abandoned, and treated like the lowest lifeform in Hell. Blitzo's attempt to be a family with her is admirable, but showering an abuse victim is affection will not make them better. Kinda got off track there, ANYWAY my oc for Loona is Georgina Satin, a fellow hellhound modeled off the African wild dog. She's similar while being the complete opposite of Loona in the way she delt with similar abuse, but she hides it with an overly optimistic, cheery, and helpful personality. Plus she's a bit ditzy. The two are really cute together and Georgie will always be there to show Loona she's not alone, while Loona helps Georgie come to terms with her own past abuse.

Because They're Comforting: Technically this one falls into a self insert ship, but my mummy sona is very much an oc in her own right. Ardeth Bay is a beautiful sight that makes me happy to even think about. The Mummy 1999 is my favorite movie ever and it's also a comfort movie. Meaning the characters in it are also my comfort characters. And to further bring comfort, I made Eleanor Arnold. A friend from many past adventures with Rick before he went to Egypt. Ardeth and Ellie are from completely different worlds, coming together in best ways possible. <3

Because I Don't Like Their Canon Ships: Dipper Pines from Gravity Falls is one of those characters I just don't care much for the ships other people ship with him. Actually surprising to me, the other characters on this list as far to my knowledge are single. And while Dipper technically is too, he's the only one that has shown interest in other characters. It's weird, I've never noticed most of my ocxcanon ships were like that where the canon character isn't shown to have a partner. Anyway for Dipper I got an oc named Belladonna Wixx. Technically a old character I basically killed and used the foundation to make a new one cause she needed an update. Her and Dipper have this cute friends to lovers thing going on, being good friends as kids before giving each other a chance later. Plus Bella has a male best friend named Manny that hangs out with Dipper a lot, cause I think Dipper should have some friends to go alongside Mabel with Grenda and Candy. So came Bella and Manny. :3

Because I Can: Oh I have a reason for shipping Bowser from Mario alright, but it means I'm getting into those 'hear me out' arguments since he's a giant turtle. Well for this giant anthropomorphic fire breathing turtle, I made an anthropomorphic insect in the form of Princess Poppie Honeycomb. She's fun cause I made an entire kindom and species name for her. She's a giant, wind controlling, flying hornet that I think just look really cute. Give Peach a break dude, she's not interested. Get yourself another girl that'll give you the time of day. XD

#meme #meme template #character meme #bisexual awakening #expose your fictional crushes #fictional crushes #gay awakening

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spitdrunken · 1 year ago

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currently i'm really busy with writing for my thesis, which unfortunately leaves me with little creative juice... ive been engaging with other people's creations a lot more rather than writing for myself, but have some assorted thoughts on things ive enjoyed recently below, for anyone who is interested. feel free to send me asks about anything that's mentioned, but because of the above, might take me a bit to get back to u <3!

these aren't really x reader thoughts, just rambling! if you read this, thank u, i am giving you a kiss on your forehead/hug/fistbump/handshake/whatever words of affirmation you have been wanting to hear today. pick your favorite!

(Pokephilia mention) Pokémon Legends Z's announcement!! It'll be forever until it's released (which, as a true Pokémon fan, I'm very happy about BAHAHAH), but I'm so excited! Very curious how they are planning to implement, what seems to be, citybuilder elements... If Emmet shows up in this game, I'm going to be super delighted, but I honestly doubt it. Either way, it's made me think a bit more about the twins, and Poképhilia stuff in general as well! It's such a shame/pain the main tag is blocked... one day I will start and stick to my intention to write, like, porn about all the Pokémon, haha. A dream...

(cannibalism(????) monster eating??? mention. consensual!) Dungeon Meshi really was as much fun as everyone mentioned! Don't really see myself writing fic about it, except for a very specific idea I had... I like the thought of Laois 'obsessed with eating monsters' Touden got to meet a monster (AKA Reader) who is equally obsessed with the idea of being eaten!! Maybe a mermaid, or something like that? It's his one chance to eat a humanoid monster! Though the others probably won't believe him when they tell him that it was 100% consensual, and are judging him harshly LMAO

Welcome Home updated! Very happy about this. Though I don't connect them publically, I actually have written quite a bit of WH fic and my sfw sideblog for it used to have more followers than this one LMAOO. Maybe one day I'll write NSFW works for it, but I dunno if there's interest... Plus, I very much fall underneath people the creator would consider 'unwelcome' in their squeaky-clean fandom or whatever, but they have like a quarter million followers now, lol. Anyway, Wally is, as has been said many times before, the Most! He draws me in <3

And also, poor Eddie, lmao. It's very interesting to me, with the inclusion of the Narrator, that the characters seem to be forced to steer in a specific direction, if that makes sense? To upkeep a certain mask. I wonder if 'as above, so below' is a reference to that, in the sense that whatever is dictated by the stronger forces of narrative, is what shall occur 'below'-- In their world. Like, the animosity some of these puppets have for each other!!!!! Some of them are just straight up Not Friends, lmao.

I need to play more of it, but if anyone is reading this, go play I Was A Teenage Exocolonist. I expected it to be waaaay more popular, especially on Tumblr, but it's so underrated? The writing is wonderful, the characters are well-defined, and the art is breathtaking! Please take a look at the trigger warnings, cuz there are a few that are definitely applicable, but it's soooo good... If it has to be said, I romanced Dys first, lmao.

I am watching The Apothecary Diaries right now, just started today, and can I jsut say... I'm such a fan of all the women in this show!! I love the perspective it gives on court life a lot! Maomao definitely is pulling in all the men AND women, huh.... i appreciate that. Jinshi also 100% wants to get degraded by her, huh. Maomao is the sexywoman of this show.

#nw #insight into my brain...

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tobiasdrake · 2 years ago

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Flashback o'clock with Valere and Zale.

Staff Girl and Sword Boy are pretty standard tropes but I appreciate that Valere and Zale think they're being clever by coming up with it. Credit to Valere all the same for using her staff for martial arts instead of spellcasting.

I mean, we're supposed to learn to "use magic without using magic" so I assume they'll both be spellcasting at some point. But my point is, Valere isn't slotted in the Dedicated Caster role. By her own admission here, she picked the staff because she wants a beatstick to bludgeon her enemies with.

She's in the box, but she's being innovative about it.

NUH NUH NUH NUH NUH, you don't get off that easy. What's your weapon gonna be, Garl? We've got beatstick and slashy blade covered so might I suggest something long-range like a bow?

Is that our plan? Because I gotta tell you, I've been down that road before. And while the magical kingdom of Disney Animation is indeed a treasure trove of wonderment, it comes packaged with. Just. The wildest bull crap you've ever heard in your life.

She's nice, but a bit shallow in terms of personality. She was an early character when the writing wasn't all there. Her villain, however, is one of the all-time most popular in the brand.

Ohhh, you mean the Midgard Serpent.

Yeah. No. Don't frick with that. Bad things happen if he wakes up.

Somebody's going to block those holes at some point. I know it. You know it. Any sedative that relies on a geographic feature is easy to interfere with.

Um. Are. Are they.

Did we already harvest most of them? Because this is an awful lot of space for nine crops.

Does our village have problems and no one's telling me about it 'cause I'm just a little one?

And what the hell are these? They are not in the designated crop field.

Is our farmer skimming off the top? Are we going hungry so he can have his own secret blue melon stash?

I found an adult!

These two look like the Pokemon Legends ancient past leaders for Team Magma and Team Aqua.

Oh, she looks terrifying in sprite portrait. Any human being that has more bones outside their skin than in is not to be fucked with. General rule of thumb.

Are we about to see the "Zale smacks a sunball with his bare hand" incident? Because I'll be a little miffed if they repeat that joke but I'll also be too busy laughing to care.

I love her confidence. Valere only wants one thing out of life: Validation for how hard she can hit a person with a stick. She has feral goblin energy and I'm here for it.

Fucking rude. I hate this guy already. I'm going to drown him.

OMINOUS. Erlina has some damage that she's not talking about, on account of the fact that we're like ten. I'm starting to get the impression that this whole Solstice Warrior thing isn't all it's cracked up to be.

Do they pair a Sun and Moon person for every mission? Or do Sun people and Moon people have their own stuff they do on their own, and they only get paired up sometimes? I'm very curious to understand how that works.

Oh, sweet! THIS IS MY HOLY TIME. Sorry, Zale, but as a Moon person, the night of the full moon is my holiday. That means you have to do whatever I tell you to. Those are the rules that I just made up.

Go fetch me a blue-melon soda.

That sounds like a wonderful place to visit multiple times. I'm there.

Oh, shoot, this is the mistake that cost us Garl, isn't it?

Wait, that's our plan? B&E in a place literally called Forbidden and then run straight to the authority figure and brag about what we've done?

Yeah, I see that ending super well for us. This is a great idea. I'm happy to be a part of it.

Hahahahahaha we're so going to get banished. Well, I guess we might as well--

EVEN MORE SPARKLE MELONS in another random patch! Okay, so maybe he's not skimming off the top. Maybe he just doesn't freaking know how to plant them in the gosh darned field.

#sea of stars #drake plays sea of stars

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lovewash3d-doll · 3 days ago

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💗Summer Novel Writing Challenge: Weeks 3 & 4💗

Recap: Summer Novel Writing Challenge Intro

🕰️ 2.6 hr of progress

🗒️ 3???? pages written/edited (def more but I didn’t keep track)

⭐️ Satisfaction (1-5)

Reflection: During weeks 3 & 4 of my novel challenge, I had some initial constancy in progress, an oscillating effort, and eventually a motivation die down. I prioritized at least sitting down, looking at my Google document, and trying to write anything— which I’m proud of. However, I’m disappointed by the lack of progress I’ve made. Being transparent, I am writing this update a week late, where I have not held myself accountable at all. I’ve been working on one 10-page (as of now) short story for about a month, and have only re-written half. I’m miles behind progress for the amount of other stories I have to work on afterwords. I am determined towards publishing my novel but I just can’t seem to break into good habits or fully focus. I’m truthfully not motivated enough, and I’m afraid that I might abandon my pursuit. I’ve fallen into a cycle of being super busy during the day (I’m traveling & visiting family) and not having the time and space to myself to write— only having the night to focus. I’m usually too tired to write at night but I still try, making me tired in the morning and tired again by the next evening. I don’t think I’m in a very productive environment , and it’s been very easy for me to leave off my novel writing for “later” and barely write at all. I really need to engrain writing into my schedule better, such as setting timers to write in my notebook, and designating some sort of writing block period every day. Being stuck on one short story has made me prioritize writing a little less since I’ve been viewing it as a big, impossible problem. I’ve actually improved my story a lot to where I am actually starting to like it, but my perfectionism is still pulling the strings a little. For the 4th week, I sparsely worked on it, and it’s negatively affected the mental progress I’ve made with trusting the editting progress. To be realistic, I’ve decided to extend the writing phase of fairytales to August since it is the biggest task of my publishing plan. Professional editing, art commissions, and formatting are a lot less of a mental effort, and are tasks that I don’t think I will procrastinate on. I’ve also been coming up with more short story ideas and adding to my work load (oops). I would really appreciate some advice on how to be more motivated and not give up!!

Day by Day ⬇️…

Day 1 (6/19)

• sat down at noon uninspired -> read a book & got some ideas

• edited some scenes & filled up skeleton of parts for 30 min

TOTAL: 30 min 🕰️ pages???🗒️

Day 2 (6/20)

• was out of the house most of the day but did read for inspiration

• sat down at midnight to write & it clicked but I didn’t get much down

TOTAL: 15 min? 🕰️ pages??🗒️

Day 3 (6/21)

• wrote a couple sentences in my notebook

TOTAL: 5 min 🕰️ n/a 🗒️

Days 4-6 (6/22-24)

• combination of busy, tired, or just didn’t feel like writing (very jet lagged, werid sleeping schedule, unproductive atmosphere)

• tried to look & think about my writing (at least…)

TOTAL: nothing…

Day 7 (6/25)

• tried to wake up earlier to be more productive but failed + was busy the whole day

• wrote for 1hr 30 min at midnight + very absorbed!!!

TOTAL: 1.5 hr🕰️ 3 pages 🗒️

Day 8 (6/26)

• was busy & tired & didn’t manage my time well

• wrote for 20 min : a bit of editting & piercing together other scenes

TOTAL: 20 min 🕰️ pages ???🗒️

Day 9 (6/27)

• stayed up to 4 am (oops— I had too much time but not enough to be productive)

• wrote for 15 min on something unrelated

TOTAL: does this even count???

Day 10 (6/28)

• stayed up really late & similar situation to Day 9

• spent an hour writing a good reads review

TOTAL: writing that’s not towards my goal…

Day 11 & 12 (6/29-30)

• valid excuse that my laptop wasn’t working + writing was just behind me

TOTAL: n/a

Day 13 & 14 (7/1-2)

• actually have zero clue what I did this days or why I didn’t write

TOTAL: nothing….

XOXO,

lovewashed doll💗

#novel writing #writers on tumblr #writerscommunity #writing #writingtips #writing advice #female writers #writing help #author #authors #writing challenge #novelist #novel #writing motivation

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selkiestory · 6 years ago

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It was surprisingly easy to fall asleep that night even if a stranger was sharing his bed. He made sure he planted himself firmly on the opposite side of the bed. Too bad Marcas didn’t know that Aed rolled about in his dreams, but when the redhead woke in the middle of the night - limbs sprawled and foot pressed firmly against the the other teen’s back - his guest remained sound asleep.

‘“I’m used to sleeping in the waves”’ Marcas would probably say.’

Aed pulled the covers over himself again and squinted at the bright light. He forgot to move his curtains back and the full moon shone over the ocean, but also right into his eyes.

It was quiet.

One last calm night before summer turned to fall. The redhead grunted and rolled away from the window to face the door. It was too comfortable to get up and draw the blind.

As he waited for sleep to return he studied the other’s resting profile. His companion’s long hair gave the image of spilled ink on his ridiculously pale skin. The teen admitted that the other was handsome, but it was strange for someone as fit as Marcas to be so fair. Only hard work outside could result in muscles like those. It shouldn’t have surprised him that Marcas refused to put his pyjamas on after coming back from the shower. It had taken much persistence to convince the teen to at least wear some boxers before they went to bed. The only piece of clothing Marcas seemed comfortable with was his cloak, which he now had tightly in his grip as if it were a safety blanket.

The thought made Aed snicker. He quickly grabbed a pillow and pressed it over his head to muffle the noise. What a strange day today was.

Well he might as well get more rest. The teen leaned into the darkness of the pillow and, after what seemed like hours, finally went back to sleep.

The next morning the teen woke to an empty bed. For a split second he considered all of yesterday to be a dream before seeing his clean room and Marcas’ discarded set of clothes. Shivering in the morning air Aed quickly dressed - the usual collared shirt and sweater - and went downstairs.

“After all, Aed doesn’t let just anyone into his room.”

“I really appreciate this. I won’t let you down.”

‘Well that’s that.’ His parents had come to their decision rather quickly. It was embarrassing that his Mam had to mention him, though. He waited another moment before slipping into the dining room and making a beeline for the kitchen.

“There’s some left overs on the stove,” Flann patted the space next to her, “after you heat them up please come here. I have something to discuss with you.”

“I know already. Marcas is staying,” Aed flicked the stove on and waited for the oatmeal to warm, “but are you ok with me not working with Dad?”

“You know we support you no matter what.” The teen ducked his head to hide a blush.

Marcas entered the kitchen and began washing his bowl. He offered Aed a smile and waited for him before they both returned to the living room.

“I have to go to work, now, so please clean up after yourselves. Aed, I’m waiting for a form to go though. You should be starting by Friday.”

Flann leaned over and Aed gave her a one-armed hug.

“Have a good one, Mam.”

“I’m glad you’re feeling a bit better. Remember to put some water on before I come home!”

The room went quiet as Aed started on his oatmeal. It was a bit awkward with Marcas just sitting there, but at least someone was home.

“So what túath are you?”

He paused from his oatmeal and gave the teen a blank stare.

Marcas elaborated upon noticing his confusion, “Ui Fidgente? Ciarraige Luachra? Corca Duibhne?”

Oh. The old tribes.

“Don’t know. Grandparents probably told me, but forgot.”

“Hm.” Marcas seemed to be scrutinizing him.

“What? That was ages ago,” he took a gulp of milk in his defense, “...what’s your tribe?”

“Murtagh. What do humans do then now days?”

“We have regular families and surnames. For example I'm Aed Carrick.”

“So you grew apart?”

“...” He had never thought of it in that way before, “Not really...I mean, annoying as she is, I don't hate Ena. My Grandma and Grandpa come often. And everyone in the village more or less gets along.”

The younger looked perplexed, then shrugged as if he just accepted that things were different.

“I guess I’ll be meeting them soon enough.”

Deciding to cut the chatter Aed cleared his throat.

“About last night...”

To his surprise, Marcas broke eye contact, the teen suddenly finding Aed’s oatmeal very interesting. Aed narrowed his eyes.

“What did you do?” If he stole anything...

“It got really hot. But if you saw, then you saw that I kept my cloak on.”

“Oh uhh” That was not what he expected...must have happened after he fell asleep, “I wasn’t talking about that.”

“Oh.” Marcas ran a hand through his hair, “then...what?”

“My research. If you’re going to help me, you’re going to need to learn how to read... and write since you probably can’t do that either.”

He saw the younger take on a guarded look, but pressed on.

“You’ll need to jot down figures for me and note descriptions of coastlines at the very least.”

After realizing that he wasn’t being made fun of, Marcas’ expression relaxed into a lazy smile.

“Alright. When do we start?”

“Now is better than never,” he crammed the rest of the oatmeal down, his mind buzzing with plans. A big swallow and he gagged. Shit. Wrong pipe.

His glass was pressed to his lips and he took it gratefully. The younger patted his back as he choked his way through the last of his meal, too busy getting air into his lungs than to shrink away from the teen’s touch.

“Thanks…” the redhead finally managed after a few minutes.

“Anything for a friend,” Marcas replied, hand comfortably resting at the base of Aed’s lower back.

Aed quickly pushed back his chair and tidied the kitchen instructing the other to meet him in his room.

The teen was lounging on his bed when he returned.

“It’s so weird, but I can definitely get used to beds.” Marcas bounced a bit, “there were some of them on Blasket, but they were all banged up. ‘Too busy partying anyway to use em, even if they were fixed. I like em though. They’re softer than rocks.”

“What do you mean? Blasket was abandoned a while ago” Aed shuffled through his books trying to find a simple enough one begin with. Creatures of the West Atlantic, 1000 Leagues Under the Sea, Earth Encyclopedia... He didn’t have any children’s books come to think of it.

“Which is why it’s the perfect spot for us. The times when we turn human could be dangerous if actual humans see us.”

Aed threw him a look that the redhead made sure clearly conveyed his exasperation.

It was hard to ignore ridiculous claims if they were shoved into his face at every opportunity. Yesterday, only his mentally exhausted state caused him to consider the teen’s story to be real.

“You really are stubborn,” Aed bristled at Marcas’ amused tone, “I thought you would be more accepting to the otherworld considering you were able to call me.”

The teen gave up on his shelf and considered his options. He could go to the library tomorrow and borrow some kids books (and get strange looks), or he could try and nick one from the school library when he went to check on his experiment he left behind. But if he got caught that would mean more questions...

He heard Ena’s voice from downstairs and smacked his head. Of course. Ena had most of his hand-me-downs.

Aed left the bedroom and opened the door to his parent’s room where his sister slept. He picked a thick alphabet book (the chew marks from raising two children had considerably worn down the pages) and tossed it to Marcas when he returned.

“Come to the desk. You aren’t going to learn if you lie around all day.”

“Alright, Mr. Carrick,” the younger plopped down on the single chair and smoothed out the creases in his jeans. He picked up the book and smirked at the bite marks.

“I didn’t know you guys had a dog.”

“It’s Ena’s,” Aed noted with appreciation that the book was held correctly this time. The kid seemed to be a fast learner.

Having no other option he leant against the corner of his desk and pointed at the first brightly colored letter “So there’s the alphabet, and each letter…”

---

When he woke there was an empty spot next to him. Again. For someone so chatty, Marcas could be quite stealthy when he wanted to.

A bit of cautious hope rose with him as he got out of bed and dressed. Today would be the day they both started their jobs and resumed his research. Although they hadn’t made enough progress yesterday to actually begin reading instructions, Aed had given him a test: report back on the patterns of deep sea currents during the week. Those were easy enough to remember to ask, that making tallies would suffice. Although not exactly what he wanted to look for, he had data to compare to that at least...it still felt foolish that he was going along with the teen, but it was the only way today was going to feel productive.

“Me first!”

Before he could open the bathroom door, a flash of orange ran inside.

Sometimes it’d be nice to be an only child…

While his sister hogged the bathroom he stole a few more books from her room. His Mam was already downstairs. Dressed and ate breakfast by now, too. He understood. After all, she was the one who taught them to always arrive to things 15 minutes beforehand.

“Look at you, so handsome on your first day. Your tie is so straight!”

“Yeah-yes. I still remember how to do it from graduation.” Aed muttered as he bent down so Flann could push back his hair. Every last bit of red in its place.

“I know you’ll be fine at any job. Just remember to smile.”

And they were in the open air. The sky was grey, and the sea smelled extremely fishy. Aed couldn’t see anyone out among the waves…

They dropped Ena off at school then walked back through town past the grocer's and the post office, past the three pubs and the bed-and-breakfast to the little white bank on the end of mainstreet. When they entered he recognized a couple of his former classmates chatting in the back, and quickly sought out work. He already started later than them, so he had to play catch up. There was no time to socialize.

After being introduced to the bank manager, Osirin, he was sent to work. Sorting mail was plain enough, but book keeping was especially dull when it wasn’t for research. At least then he could visualize the meaning behind the numbers.

When 5 o’clock came, the teen had to contain himself from sprinting out the doors.

As soon as they stepped inside, Ena charged. Flann chuckled as Aed blocked Ena, the youngest Carrick switching to cling to her Mother instead. His sister stuck out a small hand and waved a bright pink paper at Aed.

“We had free time so I drew!“

He was able to discern that the crude image depicted two people fishing...but the fat grey ovals in the water were too big to be fish.

“It’s Dad, Marcas, and Marcas’ family,” the girl proudly explained.

Aed rolled his eyes.

The three had finished their dinner and Aed helped Ena with homework before retreating to his room. All of the books from yesterday’s ‘reading class’ were still stacked on his desk. He gave them a long look before busying himself with changing. Research would need to be done in order to teach efficiently on the days when Marcas returned. Luckily Cárnach was small, so boats came back almost every weekend. The easiest way would be to ask Ena. She was still in primary school, so she’d remember her curriculum.

He peeked into her room. Fast asleep.

Returning to his room he flipped through the books for a few minutes before pacing to the window. The sea was vast. A contradiction of pitch-black water and shimmering light from another clear night...but he still could not see any boats in the distance.

It could have been him out there in the dark sleeping above the fish. His father must have seen something in Marcas to take him abroad within a day of meeting him. But then again, he had spoken up for Marcas and his Dad had always respected his opinion.

He was glad. Glad how quickly his family had accepted the teen. It was almost too easy how Marcas settled in. If he really was a selkie, wouldn’t he want to go back to the sea as quickly as possible? In the stories they always left. But then again in stories they were always beautiful ladies. This was different. Marcas would return.

His gut feeling nagged at him. Did he just miss another opportunity? First uni now-no. Stop that.

The other’s story was unusual, but not enough for him to believe in selkies. And if Marcas wasn't a selkie he would have to return.

But it didn’t make sense for him to make up his story, did it? So far only he and his sister knew the teen’s ‘secret.’

He tried to sleep, but his tumultuous thoughts carried him off as slowly as a feather drowning in the open sea.

---

Come the end of the week the selkie had the biggest smile on his face as he stepped into the home of the Carricks. Neil followed, both chuckling as Ena initiated a tackling hug for each. Aed’s eyebrows shot up as the teen stepped away from ruffling Ena’s hair to next approach him. Before the teen could react Marcas leaned forward and they bumped noses.

“Hey, Aed!”

“W...what are you doing?” The redhead sputtered backing away.

Given the looks on Neil and Flann’s faces, the other flushed red as well, immediately realizing his error.

“Er...where I come from, we do that when we haven’t seen each other in a long time.” The teen offered. Aed saw both his parents questioning looks, so he took another big step back turning to address his father.

“Have a good catch?”

“The best in a while! Marcas here is a natural,” Neil nodded at the shorter teen, “quite a good listener as well.”

“It was good to be back at sea, and I’ve never gone fishing on this scale. Neil’s quite a poet. I never knew!”

“Come, let’s not stand here. You two must be starving. Dinner is ready by now,” Flann gently nudged the group into the dining room.

“What was the biggest fish today?” Ena stretched her arms wider than the plate in front of her, “This big? Did you get any pink ones?”

“No pink ones today,” Neil ruffled her hair, “I’m surprised how many we got considering all the seals being ‘round the boat.”

Marcas laughed lightly.

“It was the selkies!” Ena gasped, “Can I go next time? Please, Mam, Dad?”

“It’s too dangerous.” Neil gently chided.

“But it has been a while since we all had a day out,” Flann mused, “when it’s spring next year we should go. It would be lovely to be on the boat then.”

“That sounds great,” Neil shot Aed an amused look, “the last time we were at sea was when you were just about to start high school.”

Aed remembered that summer well. The one where he tried to wear the same shirt every day to determine which bacteria would grow. Highly experimental, but not directional. He cringed.

“It’ll be a few months, but it’s better to plan ahead,” Flann decided. And they dug in.

“I assume you’ll want to resume lessons in the morning?”

“I could do a little now,” the selkie gave a yawn and rolled off their bed to join Aed at the single desk. The teen sat up and straightened the small stack of books, ready to put to practice the lesson plan he had produced.

He had gotten through twenty minutes when he felt a nudge at his arm and of course Marcas had nodded off. A little miffed the teen lightly shook his ‘student’ then prodded the younger off to bed.

“Thanks,” Marcas muttered sleepily as he snuggled under the covers. The younger stared at him, seemingly expecting something, but Aed had no idea.

“What?” he finally said.

“...Strange human,” the selkie let out a snort of laughter and rolled to face away. Aed huffed.

“Rest well, because we’re staying in and studying all day tomorrow.” He slid onto his own side of the bed and waited for sleep to come.

---

#selkie story #selkie #selkistory #artists on tumblr #oc #original story #thanks for your patience #work's been super busy and got a bit of art/writing block

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maxwell-grant · 4 years ago

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Vincenzo: The Gentleman Villain Reborn

Long before there were loudmouth buff guys in spandex, there was the gentleman villain.

There once was a time when the gentleman villain, whether a gentleman thief in the Raffles or Lupin mold, or murderous arch-criminals like Fu Manchu and Fantomas, organizations like Les Vampires, and even in-between figures like Rocambole and Judex, was the coolest thing in the pop culture block. The figures right around the corner of Baker Street, when Nick Carter and Sexton Blake and any billion old serial detectives weren’t quite cutting it. Their time was not to last long in the spotlight, as the pulp heroes consolidated domain in the 30s and then the superheroes took over, but every now and then, they return in various forms, never fully gone. But I’d dare say I’d never seen a gentleman villain story quite so bold, so modern, so dynamic and so gloriously over-the-top in pride over it’s existence, until I began watching Vincenzo.

Vincenzo is BADASS and I don’t use the term lightly. Not just the titular character, but the show itself. It’s currently a couple episodes short of the finale and you should stop everything you’re doing or watching and go watch Vincenzo. It’s been an utterly glorious ride from beginning to end with no shortage of great characters, terrific writing, great relationships and jaw-dropping moments as every episode succeeds in topping each other in WOW HOLY SHIT factor. It’s a shot of adrenaline and storytelling excellence to the eyeballs and you don’t have anything better to be doing right now than watching this.

I mentioned a while ago that Black was a show that, besides being also terrific in quality, captured my interest as a Shadow fan specifically because I saw in Black what I believe is the heart of The Shadow as a character: an embodiment of evil, motivated and created and warped by social catastrophe and strife, set loose to punish true evil in order to protect humanity. In that regard, if Black is where I find the heart of The Shadow, Vincenzo is where I find the spirit of what I like about The Shadow as a series: Cathartic urban fairytales where an extraordinary agent of change, armed with incredible cunning, sleight-of-hand and combat skills, rises above a dark background to command a folk brigade of ordinary people who reveal themselves to be extraordinary through their newfound purpose, to right the wrongs of society’s predators, by being better at their tactics than they are and turning their tools against them.

I’m gonna spoil it a bit under the cut but please go watch it. I cannot praise this show enough and I’ll do my best to try.

Vincenzo centers around the titular character, Vincenzo Cassano, an Italian lawyer who works for the mafia as a consigliere, adopted by it’s Don at the age of eight. After the death of the Don and an attempted betrayal by his son, Vincenzo flees to Seoul and ends up taking residence at a ramshackle building called Geumga Plaza. Geumga Plaza is the hiding place of a gigantic stash of gold hidden by one of Vincenzo’s former clients, and he intends to retrieve it to rebuild his life somewhere else. Naturally, not only is the hidden room completely impenetrable, but the building is occupied. by residents who are being forced out of it by criminals working for the Babel corporation, which intends to take possession of the building. And thus, Vincenzo has to put his skills into working out progressively bigger problems, as his efforts to uncover the gold turn into a fight against Babel and it’s lawyers, as the problems take on bigger and bigger proportions.

Vincenzo’s got a lot of what you’d expect from a k-drama at first glance. The leading man is a dashing young man, the leading lady is headstrong and stubborn, you see their romance coming a mile away and they take their damn time getting there, there’s emotional backstories that take a long time to be revealed, lots of wacky side characters and comedy interspersed with the darkest moments, a focus on corporate corruption, and so on. But it’s got an intrusion of elements brought by Vincenzo’s inclusion, such as mob drama, tonal and cultural imbalance, and the gentleman villain tropes that Vincenzo brings, as the catalyst of change whose antics backflip through action hero, romantic hero, super hero and super villain, cunning puppetmaster and gun-toting warrior alike, and start to have an effect on the world around him. His allies become stronger, more determined and effective, and the villains grow smarter and more horrid as they desperately try to avoid their own downfalls.

On paper, Vincenzo is almost a textbook example of how to craft a villain protagonist. He’s a mysterious foreigner with a hidden past and incredible skills who shows up uninvited in “our” world, who starts terrorizing and manipulating people into doing his bidding. He’s got a hotheaded and foolish investigator chasing after his every move, and frequently employs misdirection and sleight-of-hand to fool the authorities. He commits crimes and employs underhanded methods in the service of stamping out people worse than himself. He never really makes any claim of being a hero and actively rejects the notion he’s fighting for justice, but instead states he’s doing it as a matter of principle. One of the characters early on even states he gives off the vibe of a movie villain, even Vincenzo himself tells Hong Cha-Young, the female lead, that he’s teaching her how to be a proper villain. In another series, Vincenzo would be the hypercompetent sidekick to the main villain, or secretly the main villain, the lone badass that the action hero would have a tough fight against before defeating and moving on. But Vincenzo does not allow himself to be dismissed so easily.

On the first episode, when we’re introduced to him in Italy, he’s painted as the badass to end all badasses. But the minute he arrives in Seoul, he falls for a trick at the airport and is mugged by two cabbies, and has to walk around penniless and without dignity, shouting curses in Italian that nobody understands. He has to sleep in a broken down apartment, his “taking a steamy shower with classical music playing” fanservice scene keeps being interrupted because the shower doesn’t work, and a pigeon chattering outside his window keeps ruining his sleep.

The tenants of the building are all introduced as varying levels of unsympathetic and useless, or downright creepy. The tailor screws up his favorite suit, the chef who claims to have studied in Italy is a total fraud, there’s tenants who scare us by passing as ghosts and zombies, and Hong Cha-Young is introduced as an unlikable stooge for Babel. Vincenzo is a villain protagonist who is forced out of his grand mafia epic film, where he conducts business around lavish manors while classical music plays, and stumbles onto a korean drama, a world that operates by different rules and where no one has any reason to take him seriously at first, and gradually finds out that the difference between both worlds is not as big as he’d imagined.

It’s only at the very end of the first episode, when the neighborhood gangsters show up to terrorize the tenants, that Vincenzo starts to kick ass again, and he has not stopped so far. In fact, not just him, ALL of the tenants have gradually started kicking ass with him. Hong Cha-Young severs all connections to Babel and proves to be, as his main partner in crime, just as cunning, twice as driven, and three times as batshit and kooky. The tailor who ruined his suit turns out to be an ex-gang member capable of fending off groups of thugs with only his scissors. The creepy piano girl reveals herself a hacking genius, the zombie impersonators become incredible actors, the failed wrestler and badass wannabe becomes his most active field agent along with his equally strong wife, the chef improves his cooking and lends his restaurant as a meeting center, all of the characters, EVERY SINGLE ONE OF THEM gradually become incredible, competent, resourceful people, really no different than they were before, it just took a little courage and pushing.

The headstrong and foolish agent pursuing Vincenzo becomes 100% smitten with him and quickly becomes one of his greatest allies. Even the neighborhood gangsters, after being left to die by Babel and forced to start anew, quickly become some of his most loyal allies, and gradually redeem themselves in the eyes of the tenants to the point they become friends. In departing from his old family, Vincenzo forms a new one, even if never by his intention. They even all get matching suits.

This incredibly potent, human core surrounding the antics of an extraordinary figure of action is part of what used to make the Agents of The Shadow such a special, meaningful and beloved part of the series, and something every adaptation since then has been 100% poorer for neglecting. But Vincenzo does it, and does it right. I could watch a billion adventures with these people and never get sick of them.

Vincenzo is a slick, modern take on the gentleman villain that takes many of it’s oldest conventions and provides blueprints for making them work in modern times. His plans often take a performance art-edge as he employs tactics both old-fashioned and modern, like using social media to stage an event in front of the Plaza so the bulldozers set to demolish it won’t be able to pass, or copying files and passing them to his police contact while keeping the real ones when said police contact inevitably betrays him. The tenants put all of their skills to use, no matter how unusual or seemingly useless. Every episode lays the groundwork for a smashing finale where all of the threads come together and we bare witness to a grand tapestry of karmic retribution.

The villains themselves are no slouch, and also have that modern edge that gradually ramps up. They stage discreet assassinations involving gas leaks and watches meant to burst into flames. They stack the deck impossibly against all characters. They employ masked goons by the dozens, armies of lawyers to smudge any connections between themselves and their actions, and every sector of society in covering them, from journalists publishing pro-Babel propaganda to police commissioners. The assistant of the main villain does zumba classes amidst ordering assassinations, and is often likened to a snake and a witch with her "Crystal Ball” (the name she uses for ordering assassin contacts by the phone), complete with a cowardly, scheming assistant she bullies at every turn. The CEO of Babel has a dual nature not out of place in a Jekyll & Hyde/Dorian Grey kind of story.

The main villain is often painted as a slasher villain backed by massive corporate power, murdering people with hockey equipments and even outright named “Jason” at one point, with a tense string theme song accompanying his deeds. The show hides the villain at plain sight by using one of the most familiar set-ups of romantic dramas and the tension never stops even after he’s revealed.

Mobster films tend to paint an idealized version of it’s protagonists, not necessarily because of a genuine love or interest with mobsters (I mean, it really goes without saying that real life mobsters are obviously not admirable figures), but out of a sense of displaying a “this is what it could be” fantasy, a fantasy where the mafioso is a dark hero who will still ultimately do the right thing and stick up for the little guy, in a similar way to how superheroes often function as police officers except, y’know, actually dedicated to protecting people.

Vincenzo does go to great lengths to address the imbalance of putting such a dark figure as it’s hero, through showing how the situation can only be addressed by the intrusion of a figure such as Vincenzo. There’s a scene where Vincenzo and Hong proceed to explain extremely succintly to their cop ally why the “bad apples” argument is horseshit. One of the show’s characters, someone who’s spent his entire life being the best person he could, and dedicating himself 110% percent to fighting evil even at the expense of connecting with his own family, someone who absolutely should be the hero to take down Babel, admits shortly before dying that it wasn’t enough, that it was never going to be enough, and that what the situation calls for isn’t a hero, but a monster. That monster being Vincenzo, who is not only powerful and monstrous, but commands the loyalty of people high and low class alike, criminals and law enforcement agents, to fight Babel. In his words, “the ultimate monster”, something even the world’s biggest badass cannot defeat by himself.

On most other set-ups, Vincenzo would be pretty unmistakably the villain. But here, when he’s set up against a starkly realistic depiction of how corporations actually function in our world, depicts that Vincenzo’s ability to clear his way through goons John Wick-style is nowhere near enough, and to that end, he’s gonna have to fight impossible battles using his brains and his allies. And in the end, he defeats them, time and time again, and proves that they were not that impossible after all.

One can only hope he’s on to something.

Oh yeah and THE PIGEON BY HIS WINDOW ALSO KICKS ASS and I will not explain how, just watch the show, I can’t do it justice no matter how much I talk about it.

#k-drama #vincenzo #i've fallen in the k-drama rabbit hole and I am not getting back up #I love everything about this show so goddamn much #song joong ki #tvn vincenzo

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justauthoring · 5 years ago

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To Be Loved (3/?)

Prompt: Perhaps, you understand Harry Potter better then anyone else. Perhaps, it’s why, when your eyes meet his for the first time, you feel an instant connection. Perhaps, it’s why, you love him.

Based off of: The Harry Potter Series Pairing: Harry Potter x Black/Tonks!Reader, slight Fred Weasley x Black/Tonks!Reader A/N: Thank you all for your patience last week and waiting for this chapter!! I’m trying to, honestly, get through the first and second movie as fast as possible cause i’m just so excited for three and on. So many ideas!!!

It was unlike anything you’d ever experienced. The stories told by your family just simply didn’t do any of it justice.

Perched next to the Weasley twins, after they’d all but insisted, Ron sat next to you and Hermione and Harry across from you; you watched as Dumbledore announced the words ‘let the feast begin’ and more food then you could’ve ever imagined appeared before you. Just like that. Obviously done with magic, which honestly, shouldn’t surprise you, but nonetheless, it always did.

Both the twins were busy explaining what was good and what wasn’t, talking your ear off that you could barely even focused on trying to eat. No matter how much you adore the twins, it’s a blessing when Harry cuts in through the otherwise silence to ask, rather loudly; “Percy, who’s that teacher talking to Professor Quirrel?” Percy being another Weasley.

You follow his line of vision, instantly catching sight of the same teacher that seemed to have caught Harry’s eye. It’s no wonder why. Amongst the bright smiles and twinkling eyes of the other Professors, this man dressed in all black robes, seems all too... unhappy.

“Professor Snape,” Percy answers, “head of Slytherin House.”

“What’s he teach?”

“Potions.” Percy answers easily, but not without adding; “but everyone knows it’s the Dark Arts he fancies. Been after Quirrell’s job for years.”

“Well,” you decide to speak up, catching Harry’s eye, “he doesn’t seem too... nice, does he?” And even though Harry doesn’t say anything, you can tell by the look in his eyes, that he agrees.

“Hello! How are you?”

Nearly jumping out of your own seat, your eyes flicker to the midst of the table with a start, eyes widening at the sight of a... ghost. The ghost who rather rudely interrupted a otherwise nice dinner, turns to Ron, a smile on his face; “welcome to Gryffindor.

Just then, a flood of ghosts appear in the Great Hall, taking fun out of scaring the wits out of First years, reluctantly you have to admit, that includes yourself. You hear one of the girls at the Slytherin call one of them ‘The Blood Baron’ but you haven’t got a clue what that means.

“Hello, Sir Nicholas,” Percy greets the ghost at your table, “have a nice summer?”

Sir Nicholas pushes up so it’s no longer just his head sticking out the table; “dismal,” he answers gruffly, frowning heavily. “Once again, my request to join the Headless Hunt has been denied.” And he moves to leave the table, but not without Ron calling aloud;

“I know you! You’re Nearly Headless Nick!”

‘I prefer Sir Nicholas,” the man says sharply in response, “if you don’t mind.”

“’Nearly’ headless?” Hermione questions, voice sharp in disbelief, her eyes narrowing. “How can you be nearly headless?”

“Like this,” and with that, Sir Nicholas grabs the top of his head and pulls to the right, taking his head clean off his neck so it only hangs on by the tiniest sliver of skin. You wince in response, turning away sharply, not wanting to see that any longer then you have to.

“Well,” you sigh, meeting Hermione’s gaze, “that’s certainly a sight I didn’t need to see. Especially while eating,”

She only winces apologetically.

Percy led you down a long trail of corridors, including stairs that apparently move on their own and of their own accord.

You find yourself, though you’re not even sure how, continuously amazed as you walk down each corridor. Hermione talks excitedly beside you as you both pass the many different moving pictures, her actually managing to know a few of them from her hours spent on reading which she gladly gives you any information she can possibly spit out. Part of you tunes her out, if you’re being honest, but you think it’s endearing she’s so interested in the history of everything.

Then, Percy comes to a stop finally in front of a picture of an older lady, a little bit bigger, dressed in a puffy, decorated pink dress that be able to catch anyone’s eye. Not necessarily in the way one would want to catch someones eye, though.

She pauses a second, before saying sharply; “password?”

“Caput Draconis,” Percy says with ease.

With a nod of acknowledgement, the lady’s arm swings before herself, before the painting moves of it owns accord, the whole wall actually, pulling back to reveal a passageway behind it. Your eyes widen in excitement, turning to Hermione with a bright grin and twinkling eyes as you both hurriedly follow Percy through the doorway.

“Follow me, everyone. Keep up. Quickly, come on.”

The room he leads you all into is decorated in red everything, couches and chairs fill the room up, and a large fire place keeps in a nice warm temperature. It, like everything else in the castle, is magnificent and sparks a fire of conversation between all the first years, before Percy quickly tries to divert the attention back on him,

“Gather around here,” he calls sharply, “welcome to the Gryffindor common room. Boys’ dormitory is upstairs to the left,” he gestures to his left, “Girls, the same on your right,” then his right. “You’ll find all your belongings have already been brought up.”

With an excited smile Hermione’s way, one she matches almost nervously, you impatiently wait for Percy to finish his speech before grabbing tightly onto Hermione’s wrist and pulling her up the steps behind you. She follows behind you with a laugh, a bit shocked at the sudden movement, before the two of you find yourselves in a dorm-room. You instantly recognize your belongings, rushing to the bed, while Hermione follows close behind you.

Her stuff is on the bed next to yours.

“Looks like we’re roommates, then,” you grin at her, a small blush forming on her cheeks as she nods.

Your first morning of classes had certainly been interesting.

Professor McGonagall’s transfiguration class had gone well. It was simply just taking notes as she stated you wouldn’t actually be doing any physical magic for a while. Ron and Harry had managed to somehow, you’re not really sure how, arrive late to their very first class of the school year and had thought they’d gotten away without being caught. That is, until, the cat on Professor McGonagall’s desk had turned into, Professor McGonagall.

Potion’s class had proven to be less fun. You now knew why Professor Snape had rubbed you the wrong way at the feast because he was just horribly... mean. Your first observations had been all too correct and you found it hard to concentrate in his class without staring at him with disgust. Even more so when he’d called Harry out for not paying attention when you knew the boy had simply been writing down notes of what he was saying, not wanting to miss any of it.

Like any normal student would.

When you’d tried to defend the boy, Snape had turned his attention onto you and promptly gave you the same treatment as Harry. But, at least all the focus hadn’t only been on Harry anymore. That, you felt good about.

Now sat at lunch, you were desperately trying to block out the loud noises of Seamus practicing a spell on his goblet, to focus on the letter you were writing for Andromeda, Ted and Nymphadora if she managed to get a break from work and came home like she said she might be able to.

If not, you hoped you’d be able to see her Christmas.

If you were correct, mail was to be arriving soon, and knowing that Andromeda would’ve used the family owl, that gave you the opportunity to send a letter back. You were just dying to tell her and Ted everything.

Dear Andromeda and Ted,

I’ve been sorted into Gryffindor, like Uncle Remus and my father. I hope I’ve made them proud, and of course, I hope I’ve made you two proud as well.

Is Nymphadora home? If she is, would you pass on the message?

I hope the both of you are doing well. I miss you both already, but i’m having a wonderful time here at Hogwarts. I’ve already made my first friend! Her name is Hermione Granger, and she knows everything about everything. She’s wonderfully smart, i’m not sure there’s a single thing she doesn’t know.

Fred and George have also been kind enough to help me figure things out. But I promise, I haven’t gotten into any trouble.

You choose not to mention the fact that you had, but you still felt you were in the right when it came to Professor Snape. If anything, you’d defended a fellow student.

I met a boy too. Remember the boy who hadn’t known how to get onto Platform nine-and-three-quarters? Well, his name is Harry Potter. Yes, the Harry Potter. Though, I don’t think he knows just what that means. Him and Ron have seemed to have gotten close. He’s quiet and a bit awkward, but super nice.

Classes this morning went well. I still have more this afternoon.

Can’t wait to see you for Christmas. Looking forward to your reply back.

Love--.

A loud explosion pulls you from your writing. Jumping from your spot next to Hermione, you turn in the direction of where Seamus had been sitting, where the explosion had come from, only to see his eyebrows singed and smoke to be floating around the spot he’s sat.

Turning to Hermione, you both roll your eyes. Boys.

Love, Y/N Tonks.

Just as you finish signing your letter, a bustle of excitement floods the Great Hall. With a bright smile, marveling at how well the timing had been, you eye the many owls flying in through the windows, all having letters tied to their feet or dropping packages in front of students.

Your family owl, a great big barn owl, comes to a stop before you instead of simply just dropping your package. You take it from him with a smile, cooing at it, same as Hermione, opening the package to find some home-made sweets Ted had made for you (he always did love baking) and a small letter that read ‘we miss you!’,

Smiling brightly, you roll your own letter up, tying it around the owls feet with a string; “can you deliver this back to them for me?” You ask softly, giving a bit of your food to the owl and brushing it’s feathers back in a sign of affection. “Thank you, Morbet.”

He toots happily, flapping his wings with an air of excitement about him, before disappearing out of view.

“Hey look!” Dean Thomas calls aloud, pulling your attention towards him and the rest of the table. “Neville’s got a Remembrall.”

“I’ve read about those!” Hermione exclaims excitedly, “the smoke turns red when you’ve forgotten something.”

Just as Hermione finishes explaining, the smoke turns red.

Wincing, Neville frowns; “the only problem is, I can’t remember what I’ve forgotten.”

“Hey, Ron, look,” Harry calls, clearly only speaking to Ron, and with one look Hermione’s way, you both lean forward to listen. “Someone’s broken into Gringotts.” He then moves to quote the Daily Prophet directly; “‘Believed to be the work of Dark wizards or witches... Gringotts goblins acknowledge the breach but insist nothing was taken. The vault in question, number seven-one-three, had been emptied earlier that same day.’ That’s odd,” Harry finishes, “that’s the vault Hagrid and I went to.”

Both Ron and Harry look at each other, before looking at you and Hermione, curious expressions upon all of your gazes.

When Professor McGonagall had caught Harry flying a broomstick, even though it’d been firmly prohibited for first years, you thought he was in trouble. Not that he’d be made seeker for the Gryffindor Quidditch team.

But, you figured you’d rather that then him get expelled or something.

Hermione, despite the ever so loyal rule-follower, thought it was amazing as well. Maybe even more than yourself. Though, you’re not exactly sure why and she won’t say anything other than ‘it’s practically in his blood!’ and she won’t explain anything further then that either.

Sat beside her on the bench outside the school grounds, a bit of free time after class and before dinner, a book propped in your lap, you’re peacefully reading, not even paying attention to your surroundings when Hermione’s suddenly latching onto your wrist and yanking you up to your feet. It elicits a gasp of shock from your lips, quickly trying to catch your footing so you don’t fall flat on your face, her name leaving your lips in a cry of confusion, before you catch sight of the familiar heads of Harry and Ron.

“Go on,” you hear Ron call, “Quidditch is great. Best game there is, and you’ll be great too.”

Harry shakes his head, apprehensive. “But I've never even played Quidditch. What if I make a fool of myself?”

“You won’t make a fool of yourself,” Hermione cuts in, pulling both boys gazes on the two of you, curiously. “It’s in your blood.”

When they turn to you in question, you simply shake your head.

“I’ve been trying to get her to tell me all afternoon.”

With a sigh, Hermione leads the three of you off, back into the castle and through a couple of halls before stopping in front of what looks like a trophy case. It’s for Quidditch, and engraved on the big, main trophy in the middle, is the name James Potter; Harry’s father.

He was a seeker too.

Hmm, so it really was in his blood.

“Whoa,” Ron gasps, “Harry, you never told me your father was a Seeker too.”

You can tell by the look on Harry’s face, that he’d had no idea. You can’t help but think how would he? but you, of course, don’t say that aloud.

“I didn’t know...”

On your way back to the Gryffindor common room, frowning heavily when you hear Ron go on and on about how spooky and strange Hermione was, how she seemed to know more about Harry then he does (which he replies with “who doesn’t?”), you don’t make it very far before the stairs suddenly move.

You’re quick to grab onto the ledge, gasping out in response, the four of you turning to look at one another in shock and confusion.

“What’s happening?” Harry gasps.

You pause for a moment, before Percy’s words echo in your mind; “the staircases change, remember?”

Few seconds after you’ve finished explaining, the stair case stops in front of another door way, and the four of you are quick to get off.

“Let’s go this way.”

“Before the staircase moves again.”

You don’t argue, even if in the back of your mind you’re apprehensive given that you don’t know this section of the castle yet and it’s all too easy to get lost in such a big place. And you especially don’t say anything when no one else does, and Harry simply opens the door in front of you all, stepping through without a second thought of hesitation or doubt.

Even Hermione doesn’t say anything.

At least not at first.

The room you walk into is dark, nothing lighting it, and it’s covered in cobwebs and dust. Clearly, whatever room this is, no one has been in it or tried to upkeep it in a long while.

“Does anyone else feel like we shouldn’t be here?” Ron asks aloud, voice tinging in nerves.

“We’re not supposed to be here,” Hermione says simply, pulling your eyes on her with a blink of fear. “This is the third floor. It’s forbidden.”

Just then, a flame lights up next to you, causing you to take a step back.

“Let’s go,” Harry calls sharply, the four of you turn to walk back out the door, only to stop at the sight of a cat.

Not just any cat, though.

“That’s Filch’s cat!” You call out in a hissed whisper, eyes widening.

“Run!”

You don’t hesitate to listen. In a second, you turn, breaking out into a fast run, and trying to ignore the way your heart pounds fearfully against your chest every time one of the torches light up when the four of you run by them. You keep your focus on running and not getting caught.

Oh, if only Ted and Andromeda could see you now. You’d not only just be in big trouble, they’d surely be in shock given that you’d never acted out before. Or really, gotten into any trouble.

“Quick!” Harry calls, turning slightly, “let’s hide through that door!”

You nod, meeting his gaze, but the second he reaches it, it won’t open. It’s locked.

Slamming the door handle, Harry calls out in frustration; “it’s locked!”

“That’s it,” Ron whimpers, “we’re done for!”

“Hermione!” You call, meeting her eyes and nodding. “You’re the best at spells!”

She nods, ignoring the wall Harry and Ron call after the both of you in confusion, stepping up to the door, whilst pulling out her wand. With incredibly grace you’re surprised a witch her age is able to use, she chants the spell ‘Alohomora’ and in the next second the familiar sound of the door unlocking echoes, allowing her to pull it open and the both of you to step through.

“Get in!” You call to the boys adamantly.

Ron shuts the door behind him, turning to Hermione in disbelief; “Alohomora?”

“Standard Book of Spells, chapter seven,” she says with ease.

“If you read,” you quirk a brow at Ron, crossing your arms over your chest. “You’d know that.”

“I-I-! I read--!”

“Shh!” Harry calls firmly, “I think I hear him!”

A moment of silence echoes, and then, a breath of relief floods you when no sound of Filch is heard. He’s left.

“Filch is gone,” Hermione assures, stepping back from the door.

“He thinks this doors locked,” Ron calls out.

“It was locked,” you remind firmly.

“And for good reason.”

Both Harry’s words and the sight before you is enough to make you come to an abrupt stop. Your eyes widen as you eye the huge, three-headed dog sat before you. All three of them (three heads?) are fast asleep luckily, but for a moment you’re frozen with such fear of waking them up that your entire body grows stiff.

However, as you stand there, you catch sight of something underneath them. It looks like a--

And then, one by one, the dogs wake up.

Letting out a scream, not a single one of you needs to tell the other to turn promptly and run out the door. The four of you use every last bit of your strength to slam it shut behind you, fighting against the dogs that desperately try to push their way out, before finally slamming it shut and promptly locking it.

The four of you don’t stop running until you reach the common room.

“What do they think they’re doing!” Ron cries, breathless, “keeping a thing like that locked up in the school?”

“You don’t use your eyes do you?” You call out to him, shaking your head. “Didn’t you see what it was standing on?”

“I wasn’t looking at it’s feet!” Ron argues in defense of himself, “I was preoccupied with its heads. Or maybe you didn’t notice. There were three!”

Hermione huffs; “it was standing on a trap door. Which means it wasn’t there by accident.” She comes to a stop by your dorm-room door, the two of you turning to face Harry and Ron who stand opposite of you. “It’s guarding something.”

“Guarding something?” Harry asks, baffled.

“That’s right,” she nods, “now, if you don’t mind, we’re going to bed...” she gestures to you firmly. “Before either of you come up with another idea to get us killed. Or worse, expelled.”

Honestly, personally, you would’ve flipped those two around.

Taking your hand in her own, Hermione doesn’t leave you any room to say anything else, slamming your dorm room shut behind the both of you. It’s silent as you make your way to your bed, both of you not wanting to wake anyone, but then also, not really sure what to say.

You don’t even really know what to think.

“It’s Leviosa, not Leviosar.”

Frowning at Ron’s words, you glance over at Hermione warily, frowning heavily.

“She’s a nightmare, honestly! No wonder she hasn’t got any friends.”

Your lips part in astonishment. Out of everyone, you never expected such cruel words like that to leave Ron’s lips. Sure he could be a bit brass at times and little temperamental, but he’d never been outright mean to anyone before. It pulls you into a fit of shock, so much so that you don’t notice Hermione quickly picking up the speed in her step, storming past Ron until it’s too late.

You rush to catch up to her, but she just ignores your desperate calls for her attention, wiping at her eyes.

“I think she heard you,” Harry mumbles after she’d run by.

“Obviously she heard you,” you hiss, pulling the boys attention on you as you glare at the two of them heavily. Dean and Seamus who’d been walking with the two quickly hurry off, not wanting to get in the middle of it, as you turn to Harry and Ron, specifically the latter, with a harsh glare. “Honestly, you don’t have to like her, but to make fun of her like that in front of everyone is just cruel, Ron.”

He gulps in response, wincing nervously.

“And just because she knows things doesn’t make her a nightmare. If you actually bothered to get to know her, you would know she’s incredibly kind and sweet. And,” you hiss, voice sharp, “she has got friends. She’s got me. Does that make me a nightmare too?”

Ron’s lips part, but he doesn’t say anything, Obviously, he doesn’t know what to say. Harry watches, shocked, blinking at you. You don’t catch the small bit of amazement in his eyes.

“Honestly, I expected more from you, Ron.”

Turning promptly before either of them can say anything, if they ever managed to actually be able to close their mouths and speak, you quickly rush off the way Hermione had gone, desperate to catch up to her.

Part 4?

TAGLIST: @storiesbystarlight - @scattered-mood - @tinymidgetsstuff - @itsfangirlmendes - @im-a-totally-random-person - @slytherinwriter618 - @bloodorangemoonlight - @subjecta13-thefangirl - @areallydrypie - @euphorictulip - @missmulti - @tinytommyshelby - @you-bleed-to-know-youre-alivee - @divergenttribute33qrunnerslytherin - @flaming-keys - @xsiredstyles - @silver-stilinski - @sweetheartliz07 - @bljndbeths - @justanotherfangirl2015 - @iilwdobyayy - @noxceleste - @gredandforges - @moonxxstxr - @sarablog10 - @schnapped - @officiallydarkgeek - @jovialcat123 - @justfangirling - @dubugf - @galacticstxrdust - @lovelyhufflepuff38 - @thequeenofpataos - @pieces-by-me - @kobachi-chan - @ezgithchaotic - @anscombecat - @depressed-teen-needs-her-coffee - @mcrvellouslystcrk - @yuptha-tsme - @euphoniumpets - @vxxn128 - @blisfvll - @stilesslove - @briargardens - @izzytheninja - @pepelachanel if you’d like to be tagged, just send me an ask!

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lovee-infected · 5 years ago

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I'm about to start my own (twst) writing blog and I'm going around writers that I follow for some advice q*q could you give me any wisdom on what I should do when starting a writing blog? thank you!! I love your works and you're one of the writers that inspire me

Aa thank you baby I'm so happy to hear that I inspire you!! First off, good luck with the new writing blog! I'm glad that more authors are joining the fandom and wish you all the best with your works! 💞💖💞 Other than trying to keep your blog organized by creating a proper masterlist, choosing a suitable aesthetic, having a set of rules and making sure to tag all of the warnings and necessary mentions (gender of reader, n/sfw or trigger warning), I tried to come up with some useful advises that might help!

1) Keep up the great confidence!

First and the most important thing about a writing blog, is to be confident and strong. Look, you shouldn't be afraid of posting your works and sharing with the redt of the fandom, even as they're not as perfect as you want them to be. The more you write, the more you learn! And you'd grow to be better and better as you continue to share your works! Not even the greatest authors had been any perfect on their first days!

2) If you're accepting requests, try to set a limit

Being overwhelmed with asks is never pleasant, if you just open your inbox to face 500 requests you'd be to be terrified and confused and even lose your passion to work on any of them because of the stress and not knowing where to begin from. Try to set a limit based on your personal limits, how many requests do you think you can have at the time without stressing out because of how much they are? 10? 20? 50? 100? 200? Doesn't matter! If you feel like you're fine with huge numbers like 200 and 150, it's totally fine! If not, remember that setting a character limit would not only reduce the possible chance of stressing out and overwhelming anxiety but it'll also help you manage your inbox better and easier! You can start taking requests again just as soon as your inbox in cleared!

3) Try to treat yourself every once in a while!

Working on requests can be tiring and sometimes, boring. It's great if you enjoy working on requests no matter what they are but remember to write for your own pleasure every once in a while too!

Even if you have like 100 requests laying in your inbox, feel free to write self indulgent fics or something that you'd like to write even if it's super odd an irrelevant to your normal writings! Remember that you deserve to read something you enjoy just as much as the others do, so don't forget to bless yourself with that beautiful writing of yours ;) Remember that it's your blog, you are free to do everything that makes you happy or anything that you simply enjoy doing ^^

4) Remember that no matter what, toxicity always exists and it's not your fault

Look toxicity is very common to be found social medias, especially platforms like tumblr in which anonymous function exists. Even celebrities and world-famous artists might get attacked over pretty silly stuff every once in a while so it's something usual to happen! I wish you never receive any potentially harmful or rude asks or messages but if you ever do, best would be to block or simply ignore them! People in this platform can be ridiculous sometimes lol, there are people who DM creators just to spam hate and block the creator whom they spammed after wards lol, so don't even bother t waste your time with such people!

If anyone comes to your inbox/DMs/comments to say something harsh or leave a sharp critique, best would be to ignore them. Even if you like to answer or respond to reply to them tey to be chill and not take them seriously. Remember, even if they didn't like your content they could've just scrolled down without bothering to read your work, so if they had the guts to come and spam you with nonsense just because they didn't like your work, it's their fault! They didn't have to read, and it doesn't even matter if they liked your work or not! It's their problem and all, so remember not to let these kind of people get to you at all!

5) Take it easy with writing

Don't push yourself too hard, remember that not everything you write is supposed to be *perfect. This is even more serious when it comes to requests, thousands of unexpected ideas might pop up in your inbox and it makes it quite confusing to choose what to write or do!

First off, don't be any shy or anxious about rejecting the requests which don't follow your rules or come when you aren't accepting requests. Those who violate your rules aren't worthy of your time and work!

Secondly, keep this is mind that you aren't expected to be able to write everything! Sometimes the requests are hard to write, the idea seems odd or hard to understand, or sometimes you just don't feel comfortable or don't want to write it all, which is okay!

You always have the right to take/drop whichever of your requests and you don't owe anyone anything for this, it's your own blog, your work, and your content. Don't ever force yourself to write something which you don't like to write!

6) Your health is always the top priority

Remember that no matter how popular you are, how many followers you have, how many requests are left in your inbox or how much people are wishing to get more of your content, you're free to stop writing and put this wrong at a temporarily (or even permanent) hiatus.

Sometimes you just don't feel like writing, then don't write. If you feel like you're being too busy with work/family/school and anything please don't force yourself to write! Remember that your real life matters always come first!

Also, you might even need a break from writing without necessarily being really busy or sad, sometimes you just need to take a break from everything, and it's totally fine to do! Take as much time as you need and stay healthy during your breaks. It'd be even better if you don't even think of any new ideas/Aus while you're taking a break from writing so you can fully set your mind off stuff! Doesn't even matter if followers/readers are going to appreciate this or not, it's not about them, it's about you. Remember that your good readers/follwers who understand that authors are normal humans and not writing machines would surely understand if you need to take a break too!

7)Keep yourself motivated!

There might be days when you can and have the time to write, but something's holding you back. You feel like procrastinating over and over at some point lose the motivation to write. First off, that's a really normal matter to see as many of us have to struggle with laziness sometimes lol, but there are some useful tips to keep yourself Motamedi and hyped while you're planning to write! A bit of challenge would not only make it a lot more fun, but is also a good way to keep yourself motivated and inspired!

First, try prompt lists! They've always got plenty of useful ideas and inspirational quotes to use and are absolutely amazing to give you new ideas for a writing!

Second, try to challenge yourself by simple stuff like setting yourself word limits, trying to see how much you can write in an hour, use some suggested words in your stories (ex: Banana, train, knife, turkey) as a small challenge! You can also try small events (like milestone or holiday events) to celebrate on your blog with stuff like: Prompt list requests, CYOAs, character interaction and other new stuff that gives you a better motivation tp write instead of just having to work on the same, usual writing requests over and over.

Also, I suggest putting an specific hour for writing/ checking on your blog in your daily schedule as this is also a way of avoiding procrastination, instead of writing 10 requests a day and not writing anything for two weeks, try to set an schedule like writing 1-2 writings everyday! Remember to put your real life activities in the schedule too so you won't have to go through any trouble to find a balance between your real life and running a writing blog!

8) Remember the crediting/copyrights

I'm just adding this here because I can see quite a few of writers using uncredited art for their stories and it's been much and less of an issue lately ^^;

First off, the arts/headers used in your writing. Make sure not to use any uncredited card or anyone else's edit without their permission, otherwise it's nothing different from stealing the work from the original artst!

If you're going to leave a link to the artist, make sure to check on them and check if they allow reposts with credit or not. If they don't, don't use their art. If they do, make sure to give them a proper credit with a link to them! (:

Editors too on the other hand spend a very long time making their edits and and aesthetics, so not copying their work is just as important as not stealing art from the artsits!

Pinterest is filled with uncredited art and if there's a pinterest art who is not linked to the original artist, putting the empty pinterest pin link would be useless and steal counted as stealing art.

9) Stick with your own writing style!

Writing style is like signature, everyone's got their very own and unique writing style. From the way you portray characters to what elements you use as the story develops, you're totally different from each and every of other authors in this fandom!

You may sometimes wonder if your writing style is any good at all while you look at other creators writings and feel the difference, and I gotta say: It doesn't even matter what others are doing! All that is important, is you.

Don't try to change your style to become close another writer's style, your own style is great as it already is! Even if you aren't yet that experienced with writing and feel like your writing could be better, remember that your writing skills will indeed improve as you continue to write and read newer and newer stuff, so don't worry about it!

Each and every writing style has got its own beauty, not everyone may totally enjoy your style at first but and as you continue to write, you'd get to learn what makes people enjoy your writing even more or how you can attract new readers with your writings, your style will change for the better as you write!

Though it's totally fine if you feel like there are writers who inspire and motivate you, remember that you won't have to be them in order to improve! You don't need to be just like them to be great! Even if you do have some issues like being a non-native speaker which can make it quite hard for you to write, you'd automatically learn and have most of your errors fixed as the time passes. I made LOTS of mistakes in my first writings but I hardly ever make any mistakes now because I'm used to it! Though it was a bit late I finally recognized my mistakes and corrected them! And I'd continue to correct more of my mistakes as I continue to write!

10) It's very good to have different writer mutuals

This one is rather optional, just a small recommendation! Though there are many writers who might recommend this as a rather important factor for running a writing blog, I'd say that this isn't necessary as there are still well-known tumblr authors and even twst authors who gained attention to themselves on their own and not with the help and support of any mutuals or writer friends, so it isn't impossible to be successful even without having any mutuals!

The thing with having mutuals is that it makes everything easier. A totally new twst blog can gain around 100 followers on its first without even posting anything more than a writing and a list of rules only because of being supported and boosted by well-known blogs while a for normal blog without any support or boosting, it may take up to 2-3 weeks or even an entire month to gain that 100!

Also, getting to talk with different authors (especially those who are more experienced than you) is motivational and heartwarming, you can feel like you have a team to belong to. You can discuss different writing ideas/issues/blog chores with them and see what they may think. You can even have their support with new ideas if you feel stuck/unmotivated while writing a piece!

I didn't have any mutuals on my first days either and I admit that this made things a bit hard, but it didn't hold me back from continuing to write! Yet I admit that it's surely very useful to have a couple of writer friends around you whom you can share your ideas with! Mutuals support each other, reblog each other's works and give each other a better chance of having their works read by more users, which is quite amazing and helpful!

11) Go for it and don't give up!

Remember that no one, not even the greatest writing blogs have been perfect on their first days. They weren't well-known back then either! And they wouldn't have been any successful today without being hard-working and strong. Leaving up to the previous 10 rules is the hardest part of having a blog, and it's all about not giving up!

Do not try to judge your writing and talents based on the amount of notes your posts get or how many followers you have, because these aren't ever going to show your true worth and talents! But I assure you, if you continue to write even through your hard days, your unmotivated days and your sad days no matter how hard it's supposed to be, everything will change. The more you write, the higher the chance of having new people find and read your works would be! Keeping up the hard work and believing in yourself is the key to achieving anything you may wish for, even having a successful writing blog!

As you continue to write, you'll get more readers, more notes on your posts, more followers and more people who enjoy your content!

Hope that these are helpful, wish you all the greatest and good luck with your writing blog!!💞💕💞💕💞💕💞💕💞💕💞💕💞💕💞💕💞💕💞💕💞

#answered #twst #twisted wonderland #twst x reader #twisted Wonderland x reader #writing #writing tips #writing blog tips

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axiomsend · 4 years ago

Text

I Don't Know How to Love Him, Pt. I

Bruce Banner x GenderNeutral!Reader, Set during the entirety of The Avengers. Part I of Unknown- will likely span all of Avengers, Age of Ultron, and Infinity War.

You are a former shield agent who gets dragged back into the business after Loki steals the tesseract. You meet a cast of fun characters along the way, and maybe even fall in love.

Word Count: 2,357

Contains: A reference to Sleipnir, Water-based powers, Meeting for the First time, fluff?, talk of blood pressure

Inspiration: I Don't Know How to Love Him from Jesus Christ, Superstar

Comments and Reblogs are appreciated! Thank you for reading.

You are not surprised when Nick Fury comes to visit you. There had been rumblings about a major incident at a Shield facility from your former colleagues- enough to make you concerned. Enough that Fury would try to drag you back into the life you left. Still, you're concerned when you see him sitting in your area, waiting for his order to be taken.

“My name is y/n, what can I start you with?” You ask, getting out your notepad ready to take his order.

“I’ll start with a coffee, black. And toast sliced diagonally.” He doesn’t look up at you, instead hiding his face behind the menu.

You smile, writing down the order as if it wasn’t code for something else, and reply, “Just a moment!” You walk over to the counter, where one of your coworkers is sitting. She is a teenager, bored out of her mind, waiting at the register for people to come up after they’ve finished eating.

“Hey, Sally. Something came up and I’ve got to run out of town for a bit. Let Karl know some family stuff came up- he’ll understand.”

“Does this mean I’ll have to cover the tables in your area?” She’s looking at you like you’ve just delivered the worst news of her life.

“No, I’m sure Chris can handle it. It’s a slow day. But Julie’s number is by the phone if you need to call in back-up.” You respond, taking off your apron and hanging it behind the counter.

You leave the building, giving a glance to Fury on your way out. You find his car almost immediately- its slick, clean and fortified- nothing like the other cars parked out front. You lean against the driver’s side door, waiting for him to exit. A few minutes later, he does.

“That bad, huh?” You ask

“Worse” He responds, walking towards you. You move out of the way and begin to walk around to the other side of the car.

“Glad you reached out, then.” You say, climbing into the passenger side.

There is silence as he begins to pull out of the parking lot.

“So. Aliens. Asgardian or Kree?” You ask.

“Asgardian, and just the one. Loki.”

“The trickster God? The one who got impregnated by a horse?”

“That’s the one. He’s got the tesseract.” Fury deadpans. You turn your head to look at the man you used to work for, who’s asking for your help.

“Were you doing experiments on the tesseract?” You ask.

He does not respond. You throw your head back and let out a sigh. “I never should’ve left”

“You shouldn’t have. But you did. And now you are back. I hope you enjoyed your time off, Commander.”

“Don’t call me that” You dismiss, “I assume I’m not the only one you’re retrieving for this mission. You didn’t call Carol, did you?”

“For someone who never met her you sure like to act as if you did, “ He retorts,” And no. I didn’t. She’s got bigger fish to fry.”

“So who else is on the team?” You ask again, just as you pull up to the airbase. You can see there is a quinjet waiting for you.

“Why don’t you see for yourself.” You grumble at him, staying silent for the rest of the time it takes to stop the car.

You begin to unbuckle and get out of the car when he adds, “I’ll meet you on the Helicarrier.”

“You have someplace to be, Director?”

“Just a few errands. Now go, or I’ll let the quinjet leave without you.” You roll your eyes at him and shut the door in his face, before making your way over to your new method of transportation.

A familiar face greets you as you step inside.

“Coulson. It’s great to see you, how have you been?” You pull him into a hug before he can respond.

“I’ve been great, Commander. You seem to have done, uh. Well for yourself.” He replies cheerfully but clearly confused by the outfit your wearing. You grimace at the use of that word again.

“New work uniform.” You glance down at yourself to see if it’s really that out of place compared to what he’s wearing- it is.

“Commander? Are you Navy?” Another voice asks. Coulson had been blocking your view up until this point, preventing you from seeing the unfrozen, unaged, and very much alive Steve Rogers. You had heard rumors from your old Shield pals but you weren’t expecting this. You lightly push Coulson out of the way to get closer to him.

“Coast Guard.”

Steve holds out his hand to shake yours. “Captain Steve Rogers.”

You accept and give a firm handshake, “Commander Y/n, though I prefer Y/n.”

“Y/n. Got it. Fury recruit you too?” At this point, both of you are ignoring Coulson, who has moved on to preparing the quinjet for take-off.

“Yes. Plucked me right out of retirement.”

“He brief you on the mission?” Steve’s eyes are examining you, trying to figure out how someone like you, who looks fairly young, could have already retired.

“Yes. Some powerful alien got ahold of the tesseract and plans to destroy the world. Very original.”

“I have some videos for you to watch of the other recruits, then.” Coulson interrupts your conversation to put on a video all about Bruce Banner and The Hulk. You aren’t surprised by his recruitment even if you find it a little dangerous. Bruce seems like a sweet man, but he’s got little control over the other man living inside him. You take a moment to pull Coulson aside while Steve is watching the video to talk about the legend sitting a few feet away from you.

“Were you not going to tell me that you unfroze Steve?” You whisper, indignant.

“I thought I let that leak to you through an old channel” Coulson defends himself.

“Well, ‘we found the ice cube and turned it into water' is not exactly the same as ‘We have defrosted Steve Rogers and he is exactly the same as he was during fucking World War II’”

You glance back at him to see he is still staring at the video. His body language tells you he’s listening to your conversation. You glare at Coulson before composing yourself and sitting back down in your seat. Steve and Coulson converse about the different ways people tried to recreate the Super Soldier serum over the years, and the importance of his old uniform nowadays.

Once the quinjet lands, you are greeted by yet another familiar face.

“Natasha, great to see you.” You do not go in for a hug, as you aren’t sure she’d like that. “Where’s Clint?”

“Loki has him.” The happiness you had deflated like a pierced balloon.

“Fury didn’t tell me that.”

“Agent Romanoff, Captain Rogers. And you already know Commander y/n.” Coulson interjects once again. You give him a sideways glance.

“Ma’am?” Steve responds.

“Hi.” Natasha glances at Coulson, “They need you on the bridge. They are starting the face trace.” He nods, “See you there” And walks away.

You see Bruce stumbling around towards the three of you, clearly trying to stay out of everyone’s way, but failing. Whatever Steve and Natasha are talking about, you’ve blocked out.

“Dr. Banner.” You call out to him, and he walks over. You watch as he shakes hands with the other two first, and then shakes your hand. You can feel how nervous he is.

“They told me you’d be coming,” He tells the other two, “but not you.”

“No reason not to. It’s not like I’m the most top-secret thing Fury has under wraps. Though I guess that means he didn’t tell you about me either?” You look at Natasha as you ask her this.

She nods, “I would’ve told Dr. Banner about you had I known”

“I’m starting to remember why I left.” You say, feeling the water beginning to gather on the fingertips of your left hand. You brush past Natasha and head for the bridge.

When you get there, you see Nick Fury standing in his circle of computers, giving commands to start getting the Helicarrier ready to fly. He knows you're there before he sees you- the sounds of your feet are heavy against the tile floors.

“What aren’t you telling me? And more importantly- what aren’t you telling them?” You are confrontational, and the water in your hand has now formed a ball, encircling your fists.

“Is this because I didn’t tell any of them about you?”

The water ball condenses into a ball of ice. He glances down at your hand and back at you and rolls his eyes. “You said not to tell anyone about you, unless-”

“Unless they needed to know. I don’t know about you, Fury, I think my new teammates need to know” His blood pressure has gone up, and so has the blood pressure of every person on the bridge. You sigh, evaporating your ice ball away. You feel everyone’s blood pressure slowly begin to return to normal

“Look,” You say, getting closer to him. “Bruce doesn’t need to think he’s the most dangerous one here. And I certainly don’t need sideways glances from everyone who doesn’t know about me” You whisper.

“Don’t worry, y/n. I’ve got a plan.” He replies loudly, as the others approach.

You grumble under your breath as you back away from him “You wouldn’t have treated Carol like this.”

“A plan for what?” Steve asks.

“Capturing Loki. We’re running facial recognition scans now. I’ll let you know if we find anything.” Fury expertly redirects your previous conversation to fit in with the priorities of the mission.

“For now, you can get comfortable. Explore the ship, find where you’ll be sleeping.” Coulson adds.

The newly formed group of superheroes nod and set off in mostly different directions. You head to your old hang-out spot on the Helicarrier you once called home: The state of the art lab. You always enjoyed the view it had, both of the outside of the ship and the interior. It was a good place to get lost in thought and an even better place to observe the other people on the ship as they walked through the hallway. You take a seat on one of the tables, prepared to get lost in thought and clear your mind when Bruce walks in.

“Oh, are you- I can go.” His face flushes and he nervously scratches the back of his head.

“It’s fine.” You respond.

He hesitates but enters the room, beginning to investigate the various tools now at his disposal. He avoids making any eye contact with you as he walks around the room, looking, but not touching. You can feel that his blood pressure is elevated- and you're pretty certain it’s because of your presence. Eventually, he makes his way to a computer by the large window, overlooking the outside of the Helicarrier.

“Do you know what any of this stuff does?” Bruce inquires.

“No idea. This wasn’t my division when I worked for Shield.”

“Then why come here?”

You shrug, “It’s quiet, and not many other people come in here.”

“So Shield has a state of the art lab on their invisible, flying ship that they don’t utilize?” Bruce is perplexed by this revelation.

“There’s more than one. This one is the smallest, and the most exposed.” You reply, gesturing towards all the windows.

He nods at this, then opens his mouth like he’s about to say something, but closes his mouth again.

“You’re wondering about why I’m here- on this mission.” You guess what he was trying to ask you about.

“Yes.”

“I’m back up. In case one of you dies, or goes off the rails.” You respond.

“So you’re here to make sure the other guy doesn’t go on a rampage” He seems a bit bitter about it, and his increasing blood pressure confirms that.

“That’s not the only reason. I’m also here in case Natasha or Steve kick the bucket, or if they decide to turn on us.” You are apathetic in your explanation.

“And how are you going to do that?”

“Do you want a glass of water?”

“Touchy subject? Don’t want to reveal your secrets?” He’s testing you, but he’s misunderstood why you asked the question.

“Quite the opposite.” You reply, forming a ball of water in your hand. You blow on it, sending it towards his direction. He reaches out to touch it, and you turn it into a ball of ice, which he quickly catches before it falls on the floor.

“How’d that happen?” Bruce is hoping for an interesting answer or a common experience in having an experiment gone wrong. But he would be wrong.

“I was born with it. At least, that’s what the Shield scientists think.” You bring back the ball of ice towards you, before evaporating it.

“So you’ve always had these powers?”

“Nope. They came with puberty.”

“So they think there’s some kind of gene that altered your genetic code giving you these special abilities that activated at puberty?” Bruce asks.

“Pretty much.”

“I’m assuming your life became pretty water-based after that” Bruce surmises.

“Essentially. It’s why I went into the Coast Guard. That’s how Shield discovered me.”

“Why not the Navy?” It’s a valid question, one you’ve fielded since you were a teenager about to graduate from high school.

“Coast Guard helps more with civilian rescue operations, less with tactical military strikes. It’s less prestigious-”

“Which means a lower likelihood of your powers being discovered.” He finished your sentence.

“Exactly. You understand.” By now, his blood pressure has come down and is more even, suggesting he’s calm. His eyebrow furrows in deep thought, as you sit in silence waiting for him to ask an obvious question.

“How do your powers affect the human body?”

“Well, Bruce. You tell me.” You begin, hopping down from the table you’d been sitting on. “The human body is 60% water.” You leave the room, allowing him to figure out for himself what kind of destruction you’d be able to cause. You already know the answer

#bruce banner x reader #bruce banner x y/n #bruce banner x gender neutral reader #bruce banner x you #marvel x reader #part 1 of i don't know how to love him

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pit-and-the-pen · 5 years ago

Note

Hii. Can I request a George x reader, where after the war like a year later, she applies for a job at his shop? But she didn't go to Hogwarts so she doesn't know too much about the details of the war, and just them working together and fluff??

A Small Piece of Home

A/n: Ah so sorry with how long this took. I went a little off the prompt since I was having really bad writers block and this was all I could think of. This also got a little sadder and longer than I planned but there is fluff at the end. This also takes place about two years after the war, so around 2000. I tried to do as much research to make sure everything was as accurate as possible. Hope you like it, lovely. :)

Possible warning: mention of general and parent death.

Taglist:

General: @thoseofgreatambition @ickle-ronniekins @summer-writes @obsessedwithrandomthings @harrysweasleys

Weasley twins: @wand3ringr0s3

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It was your first day at work. Nothing too extreme. You couldn’t keep living off the small amount of money you received after your mother passed. No, you needed to do something. Literally anything.

Enough time had passed that you were finally settling into a comfortable routine. Moving anywhere wasn’t a fun experience. Moving to a whole new country to be closer to the few scatter relatives you had was even less so. But it did have it’s perks. Your aunt would invite you over for dinner some weekends and she would always send you with leftovers so you wouldn’t have to cook for a few days. You were slowly starting to save whatever was left of your relationship with your father. So yeah, things were getting better.

Sure you felt out of sorts a little, the wizarding world here was so different from America, but you were adjusting. And that’s what led you here.

The ad in the Daily Prophet had been bright and colorful. It stood out among the plain black ink of all the other ones. “Stocker/ sales needed at Weasley's Wizarding Wheezes”. Seemed easy enough. You had worked customer service before. So after sending an owl loaded with the answers to some questions you received one back a few days later asking if you could start right away.

You took a deep breath as you pushed open the door and had to stop yourself for letting out a gasp. The shop was amazing. It was so full of color and had this light hearted energy that you never wanted to leave. Even when empty, this place almost seemed to have a heartbeat of its own. You were just looking around at everything when a voice called out

“Ah. You must be y/n, right?” Someone called from one of the higher floors. You looked around for the voice but couldn’t seem to find where it came from. A small laugh left your lips as you responded with a simple “yes”.

“You’re a little earlier than I thought you would be” You found the source of the voice a few floors above you. A tall red-head was hanging over the banister smiling down at you.

“Oh, yeah. The place was easier to find then I thought it would be. I’m still getting used to the area.” You shouted, probably a bit too loudly, in his general direction.

“Nothing wrong with that. George is still wrapping up some new products, I can show you where they go when he’s done. Oh I’m Fred by the way.” He said cooly, matching your loud voice. It made you laugh again.

You kept wandering around, trying to take in all the names and descriptions of the numerous items in the store. Growing more and more impressed as you inspected everything that was around you.

“Those are probably my favorite thing in here.” A voice said from behind you, causing you to let a surprised scream and drop the small flesh-colored ear.

“Oh shoot. Sorry” You say bending down to pick up the ear.

“Didn’t mean to startle you. I’m George by the way.” You had to do a double take when you looked at him before it clicked in your head. The owl said he and his brother owned the shop. Twins. You gave him a small smile and stuck out your hand.

“Y/n” He chuckled, a deep grumply sound.

“I would hope so.” George said as he took your hand and gave it a little shake. “Here. Let me show you where these things go and then we can open.” You noticed the brightly colored boxes he was carrying under one arm and offered to take some from him. He brushed you off and started pushing various boxes on the shelves, explaining the general order of what goes in each section of the shop.

“Typically our other brother, Ron, helps out but he’s been busy planning a wedding lately. So we decided we needed an extra set of hands.” George had explained to you in between his tour.

All of the products seemed to be organized by how much havoc you wanted to cause. More harmless things were in the front, closer to the ground to catch the eyes of younger kids that came through. More “dangerous” and obnoxious things were higher up, all the way up to the dark arts protection at the very back of the store. It seems easy enough to grasp. It would just take you a little bit to learn what products did what, but you were excited to learn.

“So how are you liking London?” Fred seemed to pop out of nowhere. That was going to take some getting used to.

“I’ve only been here a couple of months but I like it so far. I haven't been out too much. This is actually my first time in Diagon Alley.” You responded. Unable to keep the excitement out of your voice.

The two of them exchanged a little sad look before George spoke up.

“It’s definitely getting better again. There was..” He started before pausing for a second.”There was a lot to rebuild after everything that happened.”

You knew what he was talking about. Your aunt and father had explained all about the war that had ended just a little over a year and a half ago.

“We could show you around sometime!” He says, the little bit of gloom gone from his voice.

“I would love that.” You respond and they both look at each other and nod. Clearly planning something.

A little after that the twins decided that they were ready to open. “You can just watch for today if you want?” George says when he notices how nervous you were.

“I think I’ll be fine.” you're not sure how confident you sound but he just nods and drops it.

Overall, it was a pretty steady day. You stuck to stocking, helping a few younger kids that came in. Stumbling a little over remembering how many sickles were in a galleons, but otherwise pretty smooth.

George had tried to keep some small talk going throughout the day. Learning a little more about you but he kept it light. He could sense how you always tried to dodge the topic of family or the big “why did you move here” where you pretend to hear someone call you. It wasn’t necessarily something you wanted to talk about your first day. You were used to the way everyone's face would fall and they would instantly pity you. That wasn't something you wanted to happen with the twins. At the end of the day, you could really see yourself liking them. George especially stood out.

You shook that thought out of your head and continued to help them close up the shop. After everything was in order you said your goodbyes and headed off for the night.

The next few months went by smoothly. You somehow managed to survive the rush that came with back to school season. Fred and George’s other brother, Ron, had come around a few days a week to help out. The three of you were very grateful for the extra set of hands. After that died down, it was mostly owl orders which were super easy to get out.

Outside of the shop the twins and you started spending more time together. You even helped them come up with a few more product ideas. Everything was going great for the first time in a long while. George had started going out of his way to get you two to spend more time together.

One night while you were all huddled around looking at the latest product design, George had asked you to come to dinner at the burrow, yet again.

“Mum is dying to meet you.” George said when you tried to claim you were busy for the fifth time.

“Yeah. This is probably the most she’s heard about someone without meeting them. At this rate she’s going to pop into the shop and get it over with.” Fred interjected.

“Sooner or later she’s just going to think you don’t want to meet her at all.” George gave you the biggest puppy dog eyes and you caved.

“Alright. Alright. I’ll come.” You finally shout as they keep pushing the topic. “You two are the worst. You know that?” They just smile and you laugh, throwing the closest thing you can reach with a giant smile on your face.

The burrow wasn’t that far from your aunts turns out. You were a little apprehensive. It had been so long since you had been around a big family like that. Everything you had heard about Molly Weasley reminded you of your own mother and you'd be lying if that fact didn’t sting a little bit. The boys still didn’t know anything about that particular topic, which took some skating around. Family seemed like such a big part of their life and they wanted to know absolutely everything. It was hard to keep dancing around the topic and they seemed to get more and more pushy. You knew meeting their family would bring up the inevitable “what is your family like” question.

Yet Saturday came around and you found yourself at the front door. When you knocked there seemed to be a great flurry of movement behind the door. You heard at least five separate voices screaming that they wanted to be the one to get it. When you did open the door it seemed like Geoge had won whatever argument had taken. You were laughing despite yourself.

“I didn’t hear anything. Promise” You said as you took in George’s stern look.

“Seems like more than mum wanted to meet you.” George said, ushering you in.

Just like the first time you walked into the shop, you couldn’t keep the amazement out of your face as you looked around. The burrow was as warm and inviting as you imagined it would be. It instantly felt like home and this safe feeling wrapped around your chest and tucked it’s way past your nervousness.

“Is she her- Ah!” Said a woman from the kitchen. It was obvious this was Mrs. Weasley. “You must be y/n! You’re just on time, dinner's nearly ready” Her voice was full of excitement and she smiled brightly at you.

“George.” She turned suddenly stern. “Make sure you introduce her to everyone.”

He rolled his eyes. “Of course.”

If you haven't known any better you would have thought it was a special occasion. There had to be more people than you had ever met here. You did briefly remember George mentioning he came from a big family, but you never imagined that big.

You ticked off the names in your head. Ron and Hermione, Ginny and Harry, Bill and Fleur the latter currently holding their newborn daughter, Victoire. You felt like there were a few people missing despite the number of people here.

“Charlie still lives in Romania so he doesn’t come around much. And Percy’s..well he’s Percy still.” George said when you asked him. You just nodded. Trying to match all the faces to the names.

You sat down on the floor, right next to Fred who waved at you. He was talking to Ron about something and you just sat listening to everyone. Despite not talking to anyone, it didn’t feel awkward surprisingly. You would interject a little on conversations but otherwise just fell into a comfortable silence.

After about ten minutes Mrs. Weasley announced dinner was ready and everyone started making their way to the kitchen. When you tried to give Molly a hand, she shooed you to the table with a laugh.

“Absolutely not.” Was all you were able to make out as she all but pushed you into a chair next to the twins. Who were trying to hold in their own laughter at your bewildered expression.

“Well I don’t see you two offering to help.” You shot back at them.

“Cause we know better.” George said with a wink.

All that could be heard for the first few minutes were plates clinking and the small babbles of Victoire from across the table. When the first question was asked.

“So dear, how are you adjusting?” Mrs Weasley asked you. You smiled.

“A lot better now that I’ve had some time. Working at the shop has given me a lot of time to learn how things are over here.” You looked at the twins. George seemed to have a pink tinge to his cheeks. “The twins have been really patient with me and helped me get more accustomed to everything”

“That’s great! You have family here though right?” She seemed slightly concerned.

“Oh yeah. Most of my family is here actually. My aunt lives in the next town over.” You kept the answer short but she just kept going.

“I would hate to think you were all alone over here. The boys told me you were from America so I worried.”

“America? How’d you end up over here then?” Fleur chimed in. Your face fell.

“Well. um. My parents met while my mom was working at MACUSA. He was visiting for some conference. She was working in the department of international travel, so I’m assuming they crossed paths and the rest is history I guess. Mom didn’t want to just leave everything behind when I was born and they were a little rocky anyways. So he went back and she raised me over there.” You tried to gloss over the biggest part of that question but Fleur didn’t drop it.

“Then why move here at all?” You could tell she was just curious, her tone light and friendly. You still couldn’t help the pit in your stomach.

“Well a big part of it was I wanted to finish school but... “ You paused weighing if it was really worth ruining the happy energy in the room. You let out a deep breath. “The biggest reason was my mom passed away a few months before I left. We had already talked about coming over anyways as she had gotten in a big fight over some stuff with her family. I’m assuming it was health related since she had been sick for a while and hiding it from them. So that was kinda the last push I needed. I had nothing but bad memories and needed a new start.” Everyone had paused and looked at you. Fleur suddenly looked like she was very sorry for pressing the subject.

“Oh you poor thing.” Mrs. Weasley said suddenly. You could feel your chest tightening up at the attention. You cleared your throat.

“I..I have to use the bathroom. Excuse me.”

“It’s right around the corner, dear” As you got up you noticed George looking at you with a strange look on his face. There it was. The pity everyone always gave you. They always treated you like you were suddenly fragile when they found out. You should have just kept your mouth shut. Just left it at the simple “I graduated and wanted to travel”, like you had told the twins originally.

You looked at your face in the mirror and could see the tears threatening to fall. You weren’t sad about your mother, sure it always hurt to say out loud but you had gotten all the closer you needed at her funeral. You were over it as much as anyone can be that loses a parent. What had you crying was the thought of everyone suddenly treating you differently. You were crying at the thought of being someone worth pitying. Most of all you were crying because you were frustrated at yourself for ruining a perfectly good evening with your problems.

You signed and whipped the few tears that had dripped down your face. Splashing some cold water on your face, you could see the slight red tint that took your eyes. “Get over it” You muttered to yourself as you took a deep breath, getting ready to apologize and get back to normal.

“‘Ow was I supposed to know?” You could hear Fleur muttering softly to someone.

“She hadn’t even told us yet.” A voice you recognized as George responded back.

“Enough.” Harry, you thought, cut in. “Trust me, that was a look of someone who just wants to forget about it.” You were grateful that someone seemed to understand.

“Harry’s right. The poor girl looked terrified. The last thing she needs is for us to make this any harder on her.” Molly said in a stern voice.

When you walked into the room, it seemed like everyone turned to stare at you. Shit. The ball clenched back into your chest.

“I’m really sorry. I’m suddenly not feeling the best. I think I might just go to my aunts for the night.” You said. “It was really nice to meet you all. I’m sorry I have to go so early.” You apologize once more. Giving the table a small smile.

Mrs. Weasley gave you a soft, kind smile and stood up. “At least take some food with you. There’s always left overs.” You crossed your arms over your chest and nodded. She quickly scrambled to get you a plate of food wrapped up.

George was looking at you, everyone else seemed to be back to normal.

“Alright dear. That should be enough.” Mrs Weasley said, handing you a small bag. The two of you walked to the front door.

“Thank you. I’m sorry if I ruined dinner.” You said in a small voice.

“No. No. Don’t worry about it. These things happen. And um..y/n” Her voice got softer. “Feel free to come over whenever you like.” Her voice was so sincere that you couldn’t help but throw your arms around her neck in a big hug. She let out a surprised grunt but quickly returned the hug.

Over your shoulder you saw George standing in the doorway to the kitchen.

“I thought since you weren't feeling well and don’t like to apparate, I could walk you to your aunts.” George grumbled, running his hand through his hair.

“Well it looks like someone remembered their manners.” Mrs. Weasley said in a cheeky tone. She gave you one more hug before saying her final goodbye and heading back to the kitchen with the others.

The two of you walked out the door, heading along the garden path to your aunts.

“I’m sorry. That turned into a mess.” You said after a few minutes of silence. George let out a little huff.

“Y/n. You didn’t do anything wrong. If anything you're blowing it a little out of proportion.” He said cooly. You were taken aback for a second.

“I just. I know how people tend to react-” You started.

“Look. we’ve all lost people. Everyone in that room has lost someone they cared about.” He had stopped walking and his usual humor was gone completely. “Honestly. I’m a little hurt that was how I had to find out. But trust me, no one in the house is going to think you're weak or anything.” You were having trouble holding his eyes.

“I just don’t want people to pity me.” You say letting your eyes fall to the ground.

“No one is going to do that. Trust me. They had all been so excited to meet you after everything I told t-” He suddenly cut off and when you look at him, you notice his cheeks have gone a little pink. This seems to cut whatever tension is in the air.

“What have you told them Georgie?” You tease. Happy to get over this topic.

“Well.. I mean.. Nothing but the truth. How you’re kind and caring and smart. And maybe something along the lines of how cute I think you are.” His hand is running through his hair. Now it was your turn to blush. Sure the two of you had been getting closer over the last few months but you had never expected him to think of you like that.

“So that’s why everyone wanted to meet me so much?” You asked, suddenly feeling awful all over again.

“And I just made myself look like an absolute idiot by running out.” You were instantly very self conscious and wanted to crawl into a cave.

“Not an absolute idiot. You couldn’t do that with Ron there.” He said and you laughed. ‘Plus, mum seemed to like you enough. I doubt she’s ever going to stop bugging me about you coming over. If you want to, that is.” He suddenly sounded a little timid. You laughed and stood up on your tiptoes, giving his cheek a quick little peck.

“Of course I want to come back. I have to redeem myself somehow right?” You giggled at the dumbstruck look on his face.

He took your hand and the two of you walked back to your aunts. When you got to the door, he gave you a small kiss to your forehead before saying goodbye.

You quickly found yourself over at the burrow constantly. Mrs. Weasley teaching you a lot of simple house magic that you had never seen before. It sure made your life a lot easier. For the first time in a long while, you felt like you had a big happy family. It wasn’t long before you and George were official.

Now the most awkward thing in your life was everyone taking beats on how long it was before you and George got married. You would always get super red whenever that was mentioned before George would tell whoever it was to “piss off” and give you a giant kiss to get them to leave you two alone.

#george wealsey x reader #george weasley #angst

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repost-this-image · 4 years ago

Text

All right Tumblr, let’s talk about art theft in PowerPoint format, because I’m hearing a lot of complaints, and some artists I know have literally stopped putting out art to the public because of rampant theft of their art.

[Transcription: The story of art and art theft goes hand in hand with the history of copyright. So why does that exist, anyway? Whose genius idea was copyright law??

In the beginning there was no such thing as copyright.

Books and artwork had to be carefully produced by hand.

Each new copy of a book took the same amount of time to produce, no matter how many copies you wanted, so there weren’t a lot of copies of books that weren’t religious text (like the Vedas or the Bible).

Because it took so long to write and bind a new copy of a book, an author’s livelihood wasn’t affected by other people making a copy.

Gutenberg changed everything

The invention of the movable-type printing press was HUGE, y’all.

You didn’t have to write really slowly to make each letter neat and legible; the type blocks were already made before you produced a book.

Once you’d set up a page, you could make as many exact copies of that page as you wanted, which meant you could print hundreds of copies of a book at a time.

Because it was easier to print a lot of books, you didn’t have to charge as much, so lots more people could afford to buy your books!

(Image of people using an early printing press with the caption, “These guys are printing 240 pages per hour. So much faster than fancy handwriting!”)

There was just one problem...When it’s easy to publish and print lots of copies of your books, other people can also print lots of copies of your books. And make money off them. And if their copies are cheaper than yours, you lose sales, which means you don’t make money and could become a starving artist. (Or author. Whatever.)

But that’s not all. That other printing house? Doesn’t give nearly as much of a shit about your book as you do. They’re printing out the bargain-basement version of your book, after all, so it doesn’t have to be as nice as your Super Official Version. So they’re gonna make a lot more printing errors than the official copy that you originally ordered.

Oh, and if they don’t like the ending? They could just fucking change it, and then people don’t know which ending is the real one that you wrote.

So in addition to not making that sweet, sweet sales money, your reputation takes a hit. Ouch.

Copyright was the solution, but it wasn’t perfect. On the one hand, an author got to choose which printers had the right to make copies of their books, and nobody else would get to print copies for 14 years after the original print date. So you could control the quality and sales of your books, and actually make enough money to support you while you wrote a second book.

BUT without those cheap, shitty bootlegs, books got a bit more expensive again, so fewer of the unwashed masses could afford books. It’s a tradeoff.

Why 14 years? Because it was assumed that most of the people who were gonna buy your book, would buy it within that amount of time. Sure, some people would buy it later than that, but not enough for you to really rely on those later sales.

Wait, only 14 years?

That’s right. In 1710, when England and Scotland created the first copyright laws, your copyright expired after just 14 years. Copyright law has been changed several times over the centuries to make that period last longer.

The most recent change to US copyright law, for instance, was the Sonny Bono law in 1996 (yes, that Sonny Bono). This is why there were a lot of companies selling VHS tapes of popular cartoons before 1996, but when DVDs became mainstream a few years later, there were no DVD versions made--those cartoons had their copyright renewed right after the Sonny Bono Law passed, so it wasn’t legal for those other video producers to make and sell unlicensed copies of those cartoons anymore.

(Picture of VHS tapes with cheap, off-model images of Mighty Mouse, Bugs Bunny, Porky Pig, and Daffy Duck on the covers.)

That’s right, the tapes on this slide, that look like cheap bootlegs, were legally produced. Because the old cartoons on them were, at that time, in the public domain. And they’re not anymore.

So what does this have to do with online art?

Copyright law still applies to art. Yes, even if it’s made on a computer. Yes, even if the artist chooses to post that art on the Internet.

Because the artist gets to choose how their art is distributed, an artist can say “Do not repost to other websites, and do not reblog without this caption,” and it is legally binding.

If an artist wants to sell prints of their own art, they can legally do that. But you can’t sell or distribute prints (or digital copies!) of their art without their express permission.

Because we currently live in a capitalistic society, artists need to make money off of their art in order to be able to produce art full-time. If they can’t make money off of it (say, because some asshole is off posting hi-res copies of it on other websites without permission and without giving the artist credit), then they have to get another job and don’t have as much time to produce art. Which means you get less art.

Small-time artists aren’t like major corporations. When you make a bootleg of a Disney Movie, or Disney’s promotional art (for legal reasons, I wish to point out that you should not do this because it’s illegal and Disney can and will sue you into the poorhouse), you’re preventing a massive, multinational corporation (which has unethically devoured hundreds of other corporations, btw), with already earns billions of dollars in profits every year, from making $20. That’s a drop in the bucket.

But when you make illegal copies of a small-time artist’s art, that’s just a regular, not-ludicrously-wealthy person, who relies on sales and commissions to earn a living. That money could be the difference between them buying groceries next week, or having to have a glass of water for dinner for a few days.

The moral of the story:

Support small artists and small businesses!

The only viable replacement for copyright laws that both allows artists to spend time Making Art and also allows you to make all the copies you want, is socialism. You just can’t have it both ways under capitalism. It doesn’t work.

This, by the way, is also a reason I support a Universal Basic Income: so that art theft doesn’t prevent independent artists from being able to do what they love full time, because their survival doesn’t depend on selling prints or drawing commissions for That One Guy who wants art of his unusual, weirdly-specific fetish that the artist REALLY isn’t into but hey, he’s shelling out $300 for it and money is money.

Also, if you remove an artist’s watermark to repost their art somewhere else, you’re both an art thief and a huge asshole. Don’t do that.

End of transcription.]

#art theft #copyright

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ambersky0319 · 5 years ago

Note

A human AU where the Light sides were all like a found family, until Logan runs away and they are determined to bring him back no matter what, only to find him with Dexter(Deceit) and Remus and looking far happier than with them. But Virgil hates it, pushing the two away from Logan and trying to force him back before screaming "They're fucking monsters, they could never love someone like you!" Which causes Logan to fight against him and leave the lights for good

Hope you’re happy with this! It was super fun to write but also fuck Virgil in this-

Can be seen as either platonic or romantic Intruloceit, your choice really

Warnings : Unsympathetic Virgil, Somewhat Unsympathetic/Highly Implied Unsympathetic Roman, Morally gray Patton, past suicide mention(none of the main characters), mention of a panic attack, lmk if I need to add anything else!

Masterpost

——————————–

It was just by chance, meeting Dexter and Remus. Though Logan had known about them for a while. They had a small community on YouTube for their random and often insane ideas, usually done in the name of “science”. They did have some more serious videos, though, one that caught Logan’s interest the most being one where they talked about toxic relationships. They had still made some jokes, mostly about their past experiences, but the video was extremely heartfelt and made Logan curious enough to do some research on his own.

What Logan didn’t know, was that Dexter and Remus actually lived in the same city as him.

Logan had left his and his friends’ house after a particularly harsh argument with Roman, and took a bus further into the city to find a place to relax. He remembered a coffee shop from a few weeks ago that Patton had dragged him to. While Patton didn’t really like it as much as he thought he would, Logan really liked it as the people inside always seemed to be full of life and had hearts of gold(seriously, the barista he talked to looked as though she was glowing in the afternoon light).

Stepping inside, there was only one table open which he took quickly, setting his things down before ordering his coffee. The barista, the same as last time he had visited(a shock to Logan in all honesty that she’d keep the job), made his drink quickly and handed it to him with a bright smile, wishing him a good afternoon. Once back at his table, he took out his laptop to work on one of his many projects. He lost himself in one of his favorites, a novel he was writing. Eventually though, he was pulled from his focus.

“Hey um, sir?”

Logan looked up, and he nearly gasped. Nearly. Standing before him was none other than Dexter, looking rather sheepish as he interrupted Logan.

“Sorry to bother you, but all the other tables are full and I was wondering if my friend and I could sit with you for now, at least until one opens up?” Dexter jabbed his thumb over to the counter, where Remus stood chatting with the barista as she made their drinks and another prepared some food for them. Logan almost forgot how to speak, and he cleared his throat.

“Um, yeah, sure. I don’t mind.” Dexter smiled and slid into the seat across from Logan. Remus joined them not long after.

“I’m Dexter, by the way. And this is Remus.” Dexter slung his arm around Remus once Remus settled beside him.

“I kinda knew. I really like your videos, they’re far more informational than I thought they would be.” And then, it was as if Logan just remembered that he didn’t know these two personally, and his cheeks felt a bit warmer all of a sudden. “Oh, and I’m Logan, by the way.”

“Well Logan, it’s always great to meet a fan,” Dexter said, taking a sip of his coffee.

“Yeah! Especially since most people just think we’re two idiots online, huh Dee?” Remus wasn’t really asking him, but he still got an affirmative hum. Remus tilted his head as he studied Logan for a moment. “Hey wait, I’ve seen you before! You’re in that one psych class!”

And that’s how the rest of Logan’s afternoon went. Other tables cleared, but Dexter and Remus didn’t leave Logan’s table as they spoke with him. And Logan’s computer was moved to his bag as he let himself open up to some people other than his main friend group. He wasn’t all too surprised that they had similar interests, and it was fun getting to complain with Remus about the number of projects their teachers gave them.

Over the following months, Logan continued to meet up with them and talk with them late into the night. He learned Dexter wasn’t in college and worked freelance as an artist to pay their house bills so Remus could focus on becoming a psychiatrist(Remus did do art commissions as well to chip in, but Dexter took care of finances the most). Logan also learned that Remus was the younger brother that Roman so often complained about, which initially pissed Logan off. When Remus learned that Logan was living with his brother, and heard of the things Roman had said, just shrugged and told Logan to not tell any of them they hung out. Dexter knew Virgil as well, though he was far less inclined to tell Logan what had happened, and just said they had a major fallout a few years back.

About two years into their friendship, Logan had sent the duo a text during their livestream(Logan had been doing homework and hadn’t noticed the two were busy). It was frantic, and Logan was stuffing essentials into his bag as he waited anxiously for either of them to text back. All Logan’s original text had said was “guys I need OUT”.

Dexter texted him back after ten agonizing minutes, asking what was wrong, and Logan called him, his voice unsteady as he explained the situation. Dexter listened as Remus ended their video so he could hear what was happening too. He and Virgil had gotten into a rather heated argument, and Roman had somehow been dragged into it. Normally Patton was there to calm them all down but he was working at the time, and Logan just couldn’t take any more arguing like this, not when it got so personal and to the point that Logan had been reduced to silence because of a panic attack.

“Do you want me to come pick you up? Lo, where are you?” Remus had snatched Dexter’s phone from his hand.

Logan swallowed thickly, his hand trembling on his own phone as he told them their address. “Virgil and Roman are both home though-”

“Just say you’re going to a last-minute meeting because our teacher is a jackass who does that and the things in your suitcase is this huge project he wanted us to do.” Further away from the phone, Remus called over to Dexter. “Got the keys?” Logan heard Dexter say something along the lines of ‘yes’ and Remus was back on the phone. “Alright, I’ll text you once we’re close by, kay?”

“Mhmm.” Logan took a deep breath, and before Remus could hang up he said, “Thank you, so much.”

He could almost see Remus grinning on the other end. “Don’t worry about it, Logan. See you in a bit.”

Twenty minutes later Logan was in the back of Dexter’s car, having faced no troubles in leaving the house and now on route to Remus and Dexter’s home. The drive was pretty quiet, the silence only filled by the radio playing some random songs softly.

They showed Logan to his new room, offering to take him out over the weekend to buy some paints if he liked and some other things Logan might want to add to his room. They had just given him their guest room, which was usually for the occasional friend to crash on(they claimed their friend Remy visited the most, but both were sure Remy wouldn’t care if Logan took the spare room). Logan declined their offer for going out shopping, saying that them just letting him stay was good enough.

He was able to move his things in quickly(he really didn’t have much while living with the others anyway), and Logan got to enjoy takeout with his new roommates as they lounged on the couch. Dexter was the first of the two to ask Logan if he wanted to talk about what had happened earlier with Roman and Virgil, to which Logan just shook his head.

“Maybe tomorrow,” Logan said after some thought, and Dexter hummed but didn’t push. He instead returned his attention to the documentary they had picked to watch.

Over the next few days, Logan ignored the explosion of texts he was getting from Roman, Virgil, and Patton, having already told them that he’d moved out about an hour after Logan had initially left. All of them just chose to ignore his message though, it seemed, and Logan actually grew frustrated with how many times the trio was calling him. Eventually, Logan just blocked their numbers and returned his focus to his papers that were due a few days from then.

About two weeks since Logan left the trio, and there’s an unwelcome knock on their door. Remus answers it when he realizes Logan is too caught up on writing and Dexter is busy making dinner, and he stares in shock at who he finds.

Logan looks up when he notices Remus frozen in the doorway to their home. “Rem?” He snaps Remus out of his daze, and Remus glances at him worriedly.

“Uhm.”

“Oh for fuck’s sake, Remus, just let us see him so we can talk this out!” Logan tenses at the voice, it’s unmistakably Roman’s, but then he just lets his shoulders fall and sighs. Taking this as an 'okay I’ll deal with it’, Remus lets Roman, Virgil, and Patton inside.

Logan closed his laptop, setting it to the side and staring up at the trio, the people he once called family. He still remembered the argument though, the words used which cut through him so badly Logan would have preferred to have been stabbed. “What is it?” He asked, resting his chin on his hand.

“What is it? Logan! You just up and disappeared for two weeks!” Patton exclaimed, throwing his hands into the air. “You can’t just do that and make us worry!”

“Roman and Virgil were truly worried about me?” Logan sounded unimpressed. Patton glanced at his other friends as if daring them to answer otherwise.

“Of course we were worried, Logan, you’re like family-”

“So your ideal family is where you threaten to prohibit my breathing? Or claim that I was so annoying, always ruining everyone’s fun and curiosity with my 'boring facts’ and 'unwanted ramblings’ and 'caution’, and that it would just be better if I could disappear for a few hours? And that was just from our last fight!”

Dexter appeared from the kitchen, leaning against the wall that separated it from the living room.

Virgil bit his lip before letting out a fake nervous laugh. “Lo, you know I was only-”

“Oh Stormcloud, don’t play it off as a joke. You knew damn well how that would affect Logan.” Dexter cut Virgil off.

“Plus so many other things you two said!” Remus sang as he plopped down next to Logan, glaring at his brother momentarily. “Honestly, hearing Logan recount the argument, plus so many others you lot apparently had? It’s like none of you changed since we last talked.” Remus slung his arm around Logan, giving his shoulder a gentle squeeze. “And Roman, reducing someone to a panic attack is low, even for you.”

Roman rolled his eyes, huffed, and blatantly ignored his brother. “Logan, c'mon, you can’t really just stay here.”

Logan glanced at Remus, then at Dexter across the room. He leaned into Remus’s embrace. “Actually, I can.”

Virgil glared, and he honestly hated how Logan didn’t even blink when he yelled. “But they’re fucking monsters! I mean, Dexter drove his mom to suicide and Remus is fucking Remus! What could either of them have that is even close to what you had with us?”

Dexter had wide eyes now, his confidence gone and Logan couldn’t tell if the look on Remus’s face was hurt or anger. Logan just stared at Virgil in shock.

“I mean, really! Neither of them could ever love someone like you, Logan, hardly anyone can put up with you-”

That got Logan to his feet, and as quick as the words had left Virgil’s mouth he was being shoved out the door, followed by Roman and then Patton(who was the only one of the trio to apologize to Dexter and Remus, and whisper his apology to Logan as he passed). Logan glared down at Virgil, and for once Virgil couldn’t come up with anything else to say.

“You know, there might have been the tiniest chance of me coming back. But now? Now I just hope you stay out of my damn life.” And with that, Logan slammed the door. He could hear Virgil and Roman argue with Patton about trying again, but it seemed Patton had convinced them to just leave.

Logan grabbed Dexter from where he was frozen by the kitchen entrance and dragged him over to the couch where Remus still sat. Once they both sat down, Dexter wiping away a few tears that had sprung to his eyes, both Dexter and Remus cuddled up to Logan. Remus laughed.

“Remind me to never get on your bad side!”

“Hush and enjoy the fact that the assholes are hopefully gone for good,” Logan muttered, and Dexter just hummed in appreciation. Their food was burned as they had all fallen asleep, and they just ordered a pizza and opted to watch some trashy horror film Remus had rented the day prior.

Midway through the movie, when Remus had passed out from sheer boredom, Dexter had looked up at Logan. “Lo?”

Logan looked away from their television just as one of the main characters was slaughtered(Logan couldn’t remember his name, he was destined to be murdered anyway so Logan didn’t bother to try and remember it). He tilted his head as he waited for Dexter to continue.

“You know we do love you, right?” Logan smiled slightly, looking back to the TV and he leaned his head on Dexter’s.

“I do. I love you guys, too.”

——————————–

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aforrestofstuff · 5 years ago

Note

What do you think the OPM characters' guilty pleasures would be? I feel like Tatsu loves soap operas and Atomic Samurai secretly loves a really popular boy band, like SMAP

Thanks for your request, anon! Sorry this took me so long to get to, you were buried in my inbox lol. But I hope this was worth the wait because oh boy this required all 3 of my brain cells.

Tornado of Terror: As you said, soap operas. She also loves candy apples in canon. But...she also is a HUGE fan of those really cheesy Cosmopolitan magazines that have all of the personality quizzes and the “which hot male celeb would date you” scenarios. She doesn’t fall for it one bit. In fact, she hate reads those fuckers in the same way that people pay to go see bad movies. It’s fun.

Silverfang: Yoga and following along to some cheesy-ass 80s workout videos. I’ve said he likes yoga in a previous headcanon, but he also likes to exercise along to some obnoxious 80s pop while some dude in a leotard instructs him on what to do from a TV screen. He wears sweatbands and legwarmers, too. The whole shebang. He only does it when he’s alone, though. Sometimes he’ll try to teach yoga to his disciples as a way to help them decompress after a long training session, but his workout tapes are his best-kept secret.

Atomic Samurai: I don’t know what a SMAP is, but he’s definitely got some questionable music choices going on considering he’s... well, the way that he is. I’d say he likes to listen to old country, like Marty Robbins and Glen Campbell. It’s really funny because you’ve got this intimidating man from Japan (or a fictional universe basically set in Japan) with a badass katana and shit but inside that empty head of his, there’s just a faint “out in the west Texas town of El Paso....”

Child Emperor: Picking at scabs. He’s often on his knees fixing shit in his lab, and he probably gets burned all the damn time from playing around with lasers so he’s undoubtedly always has a wound healing somewhere. Whenever he’s working on something, he’ll just absentmindedly pick at his scabs. It’s a bad habit and he knows it, but nothing beats the feeling of peeling off an entire patch of that shit. So satisfying.

Metal Knight: Buying books. He doesn’t even read them. He just buys bigass novels with smart-sounding names to fill up his library because he thinks it’ll make his dick grow another three inches or some shit. One of the few things he likes in this world (besides homicide) is the smell of a new book. If he’s feeling particularly pissy, he’ll go into his library and just ssssssnnnnnnnnnniififfffffffffff. He spends an outrageous amount of money on it. If he has anyone over (which is unlikely, but hypothetically speaking) and they mention his library by asking something like “have you read all of these?” It’ll be one of the few times in his life that he’ll feel shame.

King: Reading and writing fanfiction based on his favorite video game/anime series. Nobody knows he does this except his small following online, of course. And even more so, nobody online knows he’s an ultra-popular S-Class hero who’s friends with the most powerful man on earth. He’s actually a pretty decent writer, he just doesn’t take himself too seriously so the plotline to his stories tend to get a little haywire and overly self-indulgent. Let him have his fun. He just wants to be a Sailor Scout.

Zombieman: Singing. He actually used to be a good singer (he sounded like a discount Steve Perry back in the day), but constant smoking really fucked up his voice. He might as well have lungs the size of grapes because he can’t carry a note for more than 2 seconds without wheezing like an accordion with asthma. He’s never sang in front of anyone before because he thinks it’s silly thing that isn’t worth showing off. Play anything from The Eagles though, and he’ll have a hard time resisting.

Drive Knight: He likes to open up panels in his arms and legs to play with the wires (basically a robot’s version of nerve endings, I’m assuming) just so he can feel something. It’s kind of sad because he doesn’t experience pain or the cold or being tickled... (I know what y’all are thinking and you’d better STOP). So he sometimes takes it upon himself to dick around with his insides and dip his toe into what it feels like to be human, even if it’s just for a little bit. He’s super secretive about it (he’s just secretive about everything, really) because he doesn’t want anyone to know that he desires something outside of being a weapon of mass destruction justice.

Pig God: His whole schtick is basically indulging in a guilty pleasure — pigging out on delicious food with no regard whatsoever for one’s overall health. Other than that, however, he does like to collect body pillows. There, I said it. All he fucking does is eat and he’s too much of a big boi to be going out 24/7, so he’s gotta be on the internet/watching anime/playing video games/reading manga during all of that downtime between his stints of doing hero work. His bed is fucking ginormous to handle all of that big boy-ness and on it, he has his body pillow nest. He rests on a throne made for kings. A true icon.

Superalloy Darkshine: Also working out along to some cheesy 80s exercise videos. His hero outfit was inspired from what those ravishing instructors would wear on the television. Well, it was supposed to be a full leotard but it ripped every time he flexed just a tiny bit so the speedo is the only thing that’s left. He’s gotta hella rhythm and keeps up with the music using little to no effort. Although, he can’t go too hard because he’s also a big boi and he’ll literally shake the entire building if he gets too turnt up. Dance muscle boy, dance.

Watchdog Man: Eating too many dog treats lol. Sometimes while he’s stationed on his little podium thing, visitors will leave him little offerings like dog treats and other miscellaneous food items/toys. He never takes them or eats them in front of people, but he often brings everything home with him after a long day just to gobble that shit up. He’s gained a little weight since he started doing it but you can’t even notice it because his suit is hella bulky. Some of it is due in part to stress-eating because being a dog and dude at the same time is hectic, but it’s honest work.

Flashy Flash: Racing shit. Whenever he’s on his travels during, say, assassination missions or hero work, he gets hella bored really quickly. So, to help with this, he’ll often race birds or planes flying in the sky on his way to his destination to see who’s quicker (it’s always him). Sometimes he’ll even play catch with himself by throwing a pine cone or something and running to the place he guesses it’ll land before it even touches the ground. He just does a ton of weird speedster shit whenever he’s bored and he’ll deny it if anyone asks.

Genos: Purposefully putting a little bit too much oil on his joints after each upgrade so he’ll be as slick as a salamander. It’s a really funny feeling to be able to move your limbs with little to no resistance without having to worry about popping or breaking anything. It just makes him feel so agile despite being like, a hunk of actual metal. If he wasn’t so uptight, he would loosen the screws in his fingers to he can bend them almost all the way back (he’s actually thought about it a few times), but both Dr. Kuseno and his 3 remaining braincells attested to that. He just likes to tinker around with his body and see what weird shit he can do. It’s a bad habit because it’s led to a few things being broken on multiple occasions.

Metal Bat: Zenko’s shitty pop music. Whenever he drops her off at school or piano practice, he’ll immediately go home and blast that shit on full volume (because he’s practically deaf from always jumping out of falling buildings and continuously blasting music in his earbuds) while doing chores and the like. He’s one of those people that HAVE to have something going on in the background as they’re getting shit done. He’d rather be caught dead than listening to the OPM equivalent of Taylor Swift because he knows Zenko would never let him live it down.

Tanktop Master: Wearing suits around the house when he’s not even going anywhere. He’s got to wear his tanktop 24/7 whenever he’s in public to keep up The Image (which he has no problem with, he genuinely loves the tanktop ideology) but he also needs to feel fancy every once and a while. So, if he happens to have the time while in between appearances, he’ll prance around in a suit tailored just for him. Because he’s so fucking huge that he had to pay someone a large sum to custom make an outfit that actually fits. He is 7-motherfucking-feet tall. 7.

Puri-Puri Prisoner: Making Valentine’s Day cards all times of the year. Listen, it gets boring as hell in prison. Sometimes the guards will let all of the inmates have a little glitter and glue to keep themselves busy because no harm can come of a little arts and crafts, right? He likes to make cards on the daily just to let all of his lovers know how much he appreciates them. If they express even the slightest amount of disdain for his creations, he’ll spent the next week crying in the darkest corner of his cell block. He also likes origami. Origami is huge in prison because it’s hella time-consuming and guaranteed to calm a busy mind. His favorite things to make are little unicorns.

Amai Mask: Bath bombs. There have been several mishaps in which he’s used a poorly-made bath bomb and came out of the tub looking like Shrek but he’s grown and lot since then, okay? After a long day or a particularly stressful concert, he’ll sink into some hot water and drop a ball of lavender-scented goodness in there. It’s become a bit of an addiction because he’s got multiple cabinets dedicated solely to his collection, but at least he always smells divine.

Iaian: Shakespearean dramas. Kama got him hooked on theater shit and he’s since ripped through all of the most well-known plays. He thinks in iambic pentameter. It wasn’t always noticeable since he’s a quiet, well-reserved guy but his fellow disciples and Kami have recently noticed that he’s developed a bit of a dramatic flair. Even worse, he’s started calling himself a knight whenever he puts on his armor. Everyone prays it’s just a phase but seeing as how stubborn Iaian is, that seeks highly unlikely. Kami is dying inside because he can’t handle another drama nerd.

Okamaitachi: Soap operas, like Tatsumaki. Kama is the most dramatic out of all of the disciples so it’s only natural that she’d like the most dramatic genre of any show out there. She doesn’t exactly watch them religiously though. She’s the type of viewer to drop off the face of the earth for three seasons and come back without knowing what the fuck is going on (because the disciples have limited access to cable due to Kami’s dumbassery and ignorance to anything technology-related), but still cry during the finale anyway because oh no these people are so hot and one of them is deaaaaaad and the other one is that person’s long-lost sister....

Bushidrill: Taking alcohol from Atomic Samurai’s stash every so often. Bushidrill knows what the good shit is and he could buy it himself if he wanted to, but why would he when there’s a perfectly good alcoholic to steal from living right down the hall? He only takes in small doses because, believe it or not—he’s smart, but Kami isn’t gonna notice regardless of whether or not Bushi takes 1 or 5 bottles at a time because the old shit couldn’t spot a purple raccoon if it was 3 feet in front of him. There have been times where Bushi has opened bottles of Kami’s alcohol right in front of him just to play God and he always, without missing a beat, says “Oh, we have the same taste. How neat.”

Fubuki: I’ve said this before in a previous headcanon, but she has a mild obsession with Victorian aesthetic. She’s got a small collection of semi-authentic ballgowns that cost upwards of a-fuckton-of-money each, but anything’s worth it to be able to play dress-up with Lily. Fubuki’s favorite thing is making Lily feel beautiful because everyone has been an insecure teenager at one point and she knows how it feels to not be comfortable in one’s own skin. This isn’t exactly a guilty pleasure because she’s not guilty about it, but it’s almost gotten to a point where an intervention is needed. She’s got so many damn dresses and sooooo much fine china....

Saitama: Retail therapy, lol. Saitama is only good at budgeting because he has no choice given how fucking poor he is, but give this boy even a little bit of leeway and he’ll buy the ugliest clothes (to which he thinks look poppin’) and the best meats without even batting an eye. His entire manga collection is the product of him having little to no self control the moment he realizes he’s got a bit of money to spend on himself. This is also the only time he’ll experiment with cooking because now he can actually afford to fuck up, literally.

Mumen Rider: Sweets! I’ve said this in a previous hc but he has a major sweet tooth. You can substitute salt for sugar in any given recipe and he’ll see it as a major improvement because he just goes absolutely buckwild for anything sweet. His pancreas is suffering, but he believes nothing feels better than curling up under the covers on a rainy day with a heaping helping of milk chocolate. The only thing that makes him feel better after getting beat to shit is a kiss on the cheek and box of his favorite cookies (and some bananas, lol).

Sonic: Like Flash, he also likes racing things. But, in addition to that, his guilty pleasure is doing his own hair in elaborate hairstyles (when it was longer). He’s pretty much homeless so he’s got a lot of time to himself in between murders. This is when you can find him sitting in the woods somewhere braiding flowers into his hair and tying it off with a moss ribbon. He’d never admit he does this because he’s a big macho man and he’d probably cry.

Garou: Spicy chips. I’ve said this before in a previous hc, but he absolutely inhales his food without even tasting it half the time so it’s not even like he gets to enjoy the flavor that much. He just likes the burn because he’s a shithead. He also doesn’t fear death or a torn-up asshole, so he’ll eat an entire family-sized bag of the OPM-universe equivalent to Takis without even batting an eye. He’s been beat to shit so many times that the agony that comes with downing so much spice is lost on him. He doesn’t even need water. It’s insane. Someone stop this madman at once.

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peace-coast-island · 4 years ago

Text

Diary of a Junebug

Art therapy to deal with life's rotten lemons

Art has helped me in so many ways - and no I'm not exaggerating. It's literally something that keeps me going, helping me get through the day. I wouldn't say that art is my whole life, though it's been kinda more prominent in the past few years, but it's something that gives me a purpose.

That's not to say that I've been creating art all the time. Art blocks happen, lack of inspiration or motivation, or just the need of a break to step back and focus on other stuff. For me, creativity and inspiration are kinda like background apps that are running behind the scenes while I do other things. It's usually open so if inspiration strikes, then I have somewhere to put it to use for later.

Usually when I have an idea, I like to sit on it a bit before getting started - I don't know why, but that's how my brain works, though part of it's probably because I tend to procrastinate. That kind of creative process may not be practical if I plan to run a shop like Daisy Jane - who's usually consistent when it comes to creative output - but for me, it works out perfectly.

Since college, I've gotten into art journaling and now it's become kinda my thing as I've been doing it consistently for a long time. And by consistently I don't mean every day or on a regular basis, but it's something that's stuck with me throughout the years, even more so since I started running the camp. Even when there are days when I don't feel like journaling, it's still in the back of my mind, something to use for later when I do have the motivation to create something. Although I'm not creating content all the time, I'm always open to ideas and inspiration, and that's what keeps me going.

From going on adventures, getting into a new show or movie, reading something interesting, to just hanging around and not doing much - I find inspiration in all these things. I like trying out new and different things because it opens my mind to more ideas, more ways I can express my creativity. I guess that's why I've been journaling a lot more over the years - because there's so much I want to explore and expand on. It'll be interesting to look back on my journal entries in the far future to see how much has changed.

I wonder how future me will look back on these years. Hopefully it'll be mostly good memories.

The reason why I've been thinking so much about how art has helped me is because we've been making a lot of art at the camp. A friend of Daisy Jane has come to visit along with their sister and they're both in need of a break and some art therapy.

I've been following Ken at quillinkstudio since about last year thanks to Daisy Jane and I really enjoy their speedpaints and studio vlogs. Turns out that Daisy Jane knows Ken from college, which was why they gave a shoutout to Happy Floral Mail during a stationery haul video a while ago - and that was how I found out they know each other.

In recent vlogs, they've been opening up about mental health and emotional neglect following the death of their mother a few months ago. They have a complicated relationship with their parents and siblings, which was why they pretty much ran off after finishing college. The only family member Ken has the least antagonistic relationship is Carol, the one who has been constantly left to deal with everyone else's shit, resulting in her putting herself last.

Basically their family life's a mess. Their parents argued constantly - father was neglectful while mother was abrasive, and the siblings were selfish and snobbish - it's hard to believe that Ken came from a family like that. Being the youngest as a latecomer, Ken was probably spared most of the abuse as the father died when they were young and all the siblings except for Carol had moved out.

Carol's basically the neglected middle child who desperately seeks to please, only to be stepped on. Since the father's death, Carol stepped in to care for the mother in hopes of earning her love. While the other four siblings have their own lives, Carol was stuck trying to earn the approval of people who constantly put her down. It's pretty fucking sad and it's no wonder why she has all these problems now.

Ken says that they have mixed feelings about their mother. On one hand she kinda doted on them because they were the baby, often to the point where she forced them to fit into her image of what she wants them to be. They only visited her out of obligation because no matter how far they were, the mother still has strings attached. While she would brag about their success as an illustrator and writer, she also undermined them, pitting them and the siblings against each other.

After the mother died, Carol became lost. All five siblings were in the same room for the first time in years and as expected, it was a disaster. Later Carol and Ken got into a big argument in which Ken told her that if she continued with her self destructive behavior, then the next time they visited home it would be for her funeral. The two "had it out" as they described it, and it made them truly realize how fucked up their family was.

At least some good came out of the whole blow up seeing that Carol's here with us now. The day after, Carol admitted that she wasn't okay and hasn't been for years. So Ken suggested that she come along with them, to leave home and start over. She had always spoke about leaving for as long as they could remember, only to be saddled with the responsibility of taking care of the mother.

Like her sibling, Carol aspired to be an artist. She also dreams of being an actress and singer. And of course, the mother shot her down, forcing Carol to suppress her creativity. At least now, she's slowly finding herself again.

It wasn't easy, but Ken managed to convince Carol to get away. She basically took off without a word, which was really the only way she could've left. There's a lot of unfinished business Carol has to deal with, but for now she has to distance herself, which she's still struggling with.

For now Carol's living with Ken, which admittedly hasn't been easy. They worked out a contract with each other, like promising to keep up with therapy and learning how to communicate in a healthy way instead of letting things blow up. Ken wants to help her as much as they can as long as Carol's willing to do her part. There's a lot to unpack as we can't undo years of trauma, but at least we can put the past behind us and move on to a better future.

Art therapy has been super helpful for Ken and Carol. Along with filming a vlog, Ken's also working on their graphic novel, which is about the stuff they've been talking about on the vlogs regarding their family life. It was something Ken had been working on and off for a while before shelving it because at the time it was too difficult to write about. Now with the mother gone, a weight's been lifted off their shoulders, thus giving the novel a more hopeful message as the initial reason why they shelved it was because it ended up being too bleak.

Carol's been trying out different art mediums, figuring out what calls to her the most. So far it's painting and art journaling, the former which she hasn't done in years, the latter being something new. She's also learning digital art, which she's picking up quickly and seems to be getting into. It's good to see that making art has been helping her a lot.

In between art sessions we've been enjoying the scenery as usual. Carol has been practicing digital art by drawing sceneries, something she found out she enjoys a lot. Having spent most of her life in the suburbs, being out here in nature has been a refreshing change of scenery for her. Seeing her and Ken fascinated by their surroundings feels like watching baby birds taking flight for the first time. The two have a tendency to wander so it's been kinda fascinating to see them get lost in nature.

It's sweet but also kinda sad, especially for Carol. I can't help but feel bad for her, for her wings have been clipped for so long that she's unable to find her way now that the strings holding her back have been cut. At least Ken's there to guide her as she tries to find her footing, to finally take back her life after giving everything to uncaring people who just take, take, take from her.

Healing's a difficult process - they will probably drag each other down more than lift each other up. Ken's been open about how hard things have been for both of them, and while it fucking sucks sometimes, they knew exactly what they signed up for by taking Carol in. Ideally, they want to save their sister, but realistically it's not gonna work out like that. Getting her away and giving her the help she needs won't magically make all her problems go away, but it's a start.

Today, we took a walk along the mountain trail, where we collected berries, moonstones, and maple fern leaves. I've never seen maple fern leaves before as they only bloom every few years according to Isabelle. Since they're rare, we decided to collect a bunch to save for a later project. I have no idea what to do with the leaves yet but I'm sure we can come up with something great.

We wound up staying on the mountains all day as we kinda got lost a bit at that fork in the trail where things kinda get confusing. There's a peak up there I haven't explored until today as whenever I try to look for it, I can't find it. The trail only shows up if we get lost but by then it's getting late so we have to put off exploring for another time. Finally, after years of trying, we finally got to explore the peak!

Getting up there was tricky as the slopes are super steep. We had to take the long way around so we could take short breaks and not risk anyone getting injured. It's a daunting climb, but the view was so totally worth it! Not only the view is breathtaking, I can see even more places to explore. That's what I love about exploring new areas - it's like unlocking a door leading to something bigger.

Since we worked so hard to get up here, it made sense for us to spend the rest of the day making the most out of our discovery. Now that I know how to get there, I now have to find a way to make this area more accessible with things like trail markers and ladders. Ken documented the whole trek for the vlog, an impressive feat as, like I said, the climb wasn't planned. As fun as the whole thing was, don't expect something like that again - in other words, don't try this at home, kids.

(Will that stop me from doing something like that again? Knowing how I tend to be a poor planner, probably not. Then again, I guess it's good to be aware because if things go wrong at least you knew beforehand.)

At the peak, we found a field of colorful pinwheel astras. The light breezes caused the petals to spin, which was fascinating to watch. Normally I don't like looking at spinning things for too long because I'm kinda prone to getting headaches but looking at the pinwheel petals was surprisingly calming. It was kinda funny when the four of us immediately pulled out our tablets/sketchbooks to draw the flowers. We also took a bunch of pics too and they turned out great.

After exploring around the peak for a while, we rested underneath a giant lemon tree. The tree was full of perfect lemons - it was like nothing I've ever seen before. Lemons are kinda hard to come by as they don't grow at the camp, so they're only accessible at the market box for me. Finding a perfect lemon is like striking gold, so to see so many at once is like hitting the jackpot. So of course, we collected a bunch and later made lemonade when we got back to the camp.

Speaking of lemons, Ken and Carol are taking the perfect lemons as some kind of a sign. Something about them growing up with a neighbor who always gave them crappy lemons from their tree that end up sitting in the fridge until they get thrown away. Ken says it's a really long story that's funny and interesting so it looks like they'll have to cover it in the upcoming vlogs about the camp. Seeing how the lemons seem to be a sign of hope for the two, I'm intrigued.

#animal crossing #animal crossing pocket camp #Diary of a Junebug #headcanon ramble

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