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#and it's not like i haven't tried art! but it just takes so much goddamn energy to produce a result worth anything
tigirl-and-co · 3 months
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i wish i was good at art so people would be interested in my ocs.
except that's a lie. i don't even really enjoy making art besides doodles. what i love is writing. so i think what i actually want is for everyone to fall in love with reading.
and like obviously i get it. im weird. i spent a large part of my youth reading wikis for games i never played, shows i never watched. i still do tbh. i have always loved seeking out superfluous information. bc it was *like* reading a story, except you only had the separate pieces and had to put them together like puzzle to get the whole story
it's a bit like history, now that i think about it.
and i LOVE finding somebody who has OCs with thousands of words of backstory. that's the fastest way to get me interested. a simple doodle and then a wiki entry of information.
idk. i guess im just venting a bit. it feels a bit unfair. every pro-OC post is geared towards artists. people who love to draw. but I just don't. i mean yeah i like making little doodles, but frankly it's about the same enjoyment i get from solving basic math equations.
and fucking obviously i love and treasure all my artist friends. if you are seeing this and you love to draw your OCs, I love you. I would never begrudge you your happiness.
it's times like these i wish forums hadn't really died out. i want a community. i want to make that connection. but i feel ignored bc my talents don't align with the current state of things in the greater community.
whatever. whatever. i just hate venting bc i worry about making people feel bad but sometimes I feel bad. and ive never been able to talk about feeling bad without getting yelled at. Which isn't healthy, of course, and I know that, and Im slowly trying to break the habit of just shoving it down. and Ive had a drink so im willing to be more open so uh. there, i guess. i feel like dogshit that i have neither the energy nor the inclination to draw my OCs and that it's literally fucking impossible to get your OCs noticed through writing. nothing really to be done about it. that's just how life goes. not all hobbies are meant for all people.
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luvtonique · 2 months
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I just woke up and I chose violence let's go.
Look all I'm sayin' is
If you're gonna attack AI generative art
You should, for the same reason, attack Toby Fox.
The reason I've seen the most for people not liking AI is that it's not "Real art" and that it "Takes jobs from artists" and that it "Steals from other artists"
Well, then, let's talk about how Hopes and Dreams by Toby Fox uses fake Violins to mimic a symphony orchestra. Toby could have hired a real orchestra but he used a fake one and y'all came in your drawers over it.
Why'd nobody ever lift a finger to cover social media in how Toby Fox doesn't deserve to make money because his song "Undertale" uses a fake guitar that sounds just like a real one? He could have hired a musician to play guitar but he didn't! That cost a REAL guitar player a job, didn't it?
And how come when it was found out that Toby Fox stole entire lietmotifs from other games like Kirby n shit, y'all had like 600,000,000 excuses to defend him?
I don't dislike Toby I think he's amazing, like 100/10, one'a the brightest examples of a success story of all time and one of the nicest most pure-hearted people on earth who made two of my favorite games of all time and a ton of my favorite music. Spider Dance has been my ring tone for like 8 years.
I'm just saying, the literal same reasons I see people attacking AI gen art is shit that Toby does, all of it, and y'all worship Toby for it but attack artists.
And neither here nor there, but hear me out?
Y'all will say you're in defense of artists keeping their jobs and their livelihoods which is so very noble of you, but if an artist draws shortstacks that are just a little too short, or if an artist utilizes AI, or if an artist draws Rose Quartz skinny, or if an artist draws Sans and Frisk getting a little too Frisky, or if an artist votes for Trump, or if an artist says a dirty word you don't like, or if an artist draws a black person that looks just a little bit too stereotypical, or if an artist draws a lesbian character getting fucked, or if an artist doesn't believe in gender identities, or if an artist doesn't put trans characters in their graphic novel, or if an artist makes a sexy character with butt-jiggle the protagonist of their video game; Y'ALL ARE COMPLETELY OKAY WITH SAYING THAT ARTIST SHOULDN'T BE MAKING MONEY, AND BANDWAGONING A HATEMONGERING BRIGADE AGAINST THEM.
Or in the Sans and Frisk case: PUT SEWING NEEDLES INSIDE OF COOKIES AND GIVE THEM TO THE ARTIST WHO DREW IT, PUTTING THEM IN THE HOSPITAL.
Listen
Spare me this "We hate AI because we care about the jobs of artists" shit, you lying scoundrels. You don't care about my job! You've tried to cancel me like 500 goddamn times, got my Patreon frozen twice, got my PayPal frozen over 100 times even right in the middle of conventions, flooded my stream chat and spammed the N-word in chat trying to get my Twitch banned, flooded my Discord multiple times with links to CP trying to get my Discord banned, and you have entire Discord servers literally called things like "Jay is an asshole" and "The We Hate Jay Society" (YEAH I KNOW YOU FUCKERS EXIST, HI, HAVE FUN SCREENCAPPING THIS).
My artistic career has been under fire for the past 12 years because I draw things y'all disagree with, have opinions you don't like, and have family members who vote for politicians you think are the boogeyman that's the cause of all your problems (and haven't disowned those family members). With all due respect, when I hear "We hate AI because we believe in fair wages for artists and want to protect the jobs of artists" I just wanna strangle your lying ass.
You hate AI because it's popular to hate AI.
AI is like a prosthetic robot arm that helps you carry the groceries, and disabled people like myself (rheumatoid arthritis) benefit from its uses greatly (such as being able to draw backgrounds much easier which has greatly improved my art and INCREASED MY COMMISSION REVENUE DUE TO MY ART QUALITY IMPROVING [But y'all don't care that AI helps artists earn more money, you hate AI because you claim it's hurting artists' ability to earn money]), but you're so hung up on people using the robot arm instead of their real arms that you think you're some crusader against injustice.
You aren't.
You're just looking for reasons to attack people, it's what you do. I've been dealing with y'all looking for any goddamn reason to attack someone that you can muster for the last 12 years, hell even before that I dealt with you types. You just want to hate, you want to be prejudiced so fucking bad that you look for literally any reason you can possibly find to make some vaguepost about how much you hate an artist and post it to Reddit, and then when you get called out, get so surprised that I found your bitch ass that you start pretending you didn't mean any ill will, and start pretending that you're someone else in the most pathetic attempt to dodge blame I've ever seen.
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[Context: The OP of this post accidentally revealed who they are on Tumblr, and then when I called them out on Tumblr, they pretended they were someone else because they were scared I was gonna out them on Tumblr and they tried pathetically to cover their ass, and even politely said "I never wanted to garner hate against you" when they literally posted "I hate the way he draws women" on r/mendrawingwomen and flooded the comment section (mostly now deleted) with how "disgusting of a person" I am, while I was in the comments politely giving context to the shit he was saying about me, and he started getting furious when other people were liking my art and agreeing with me instead of him. I have like 600 screencaps of all the cringe this guy spewed, but I'm not gonna post it all because it's tangential anyway. Case in point? This guy's blog is absolutely covered with how much he hates artists for drawing things he doesn't like, and he regularly posts about how AI is taking jobs from artists. Not gonna out his blog, but that's who he is. A shining example of exactly what I'm talking about. "I hate AI because it takes jobs from artists!" "THIS MAN-THING DRAWS WOMEN IN A WAY I DON'T LIKE AND HE'S A DISGUSTING PERSON, EVERYONE JOIN ME IN HATING HIM AND TRYING TO RUIN HIS REPUTATION AND THEN WE CAN CELEBRATE WHEN HE LOSES HIS JOB!!!"]
Like, y'all can sit there and act like you're defending me and artists like me all you want, you're liars. You're boldfaced fucking liars. You are disgusting. It's completely pathetic watching you attack a tool that can be used to improve our art, and claim it's in defense of the authenticity of our art and the continued financial stability of our artistic careers. Fucking give me a break.
You're looking for people who say positive things about AI art so you can attack them and feel justified because it's popular to attack them.
All while sitting there and gladly swallowing the cum of any musician who makes amazing music with synths, fake symphony instruments and autotune.
"We care about the jobs of artists."
Yeah.
Long as those artists fall in line with your opinions and only draw things that agree with said opinions, right?
Wouldn't wanna care about the jobs of "problematic" artists who draw "offensive" stuff or vote for politicians you don't like.
Final note: This isn't even an attack against any political opinions or activism or anything like that, but I'm being realistic here because these are the people I see brigading against AI art. It's not me saying those people are dumb for having their opinions or political standpoints or being activists for their beliefs, it's me saying those people are the ones who are constantly attacking AI art in "defense of artists," while in the same breath attacking artists for not sharing their political standpoints or also being activists for the same causes. If you truly, truly cared about the livelihood of artists, you'd stop attacking artists' livelihood for disagreeing with you. Or for that matter: Any reason. Stop attacking artists' livelihood, or stop pretending you care about it. Be consistent, at least.
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angelica4equity · 5 months
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"About the Blogger" Meme
Thanks to @currymanganese for tagging me 💕
Star Sign(s):
Aries Sun, Leo Moon, Gemini Rising
Favorite Holidays:
Christmas because it's coldish and I am finally not sweaty 😭
Last Meal:
Two pork tamales with a sunny side up egg on a bed of Mexican fried rice 🤤
Current Favorite Musician:
Spanish band called Shego. I know I know, I hate the ethpanyoles most of the time but damn I love whiny rock music that tells men to go fuck themselves 😍
Last Music Listened To:
Love Me Like You Do by Ellie Goulding ( yes I was watching a fanvid that's the only song legally allowed as a background)
Last Movie Watched:
Mr Monk's Last Case. SO GOOD I literally cried. I loved USANetwork so much as a kid and I grew up with these shows. Yes the treatment of OCD wasn't totally accurate but Mr Monk did make me feel seen as someone who, because of their brain, just can't stop themselves even when they know everyone is frustrated. When I heard they were making a movie I was so excited bc I love the Psych movies so much and I was thrilled Monk was getting his sequel too 😭.
Last TV Show Watched:
The Bear. On my third rewatch 😍👌🏽
Last Book/Fic Finished:
Get a Life, Chloe Brown! By Talia Hibbert. 1, I am a slut for well written romance, 2 I love books about marginalized bodies and 3 I love supporting Black women. This book is part of a series called The Brown Sisters novels and each book focuses on a different sister's romance. It's so good! I accidentally read the third one first but now I've read 2/3. Funny and a lil freaky. I love it!!!! 10/10 would recommend but I also recommend checking it out at a library to boost circulation markers.
Last Book/Fic Abandoned:
I tried reading another romance book called the Right Swipe but so far it hasn't grabbed my attention so I haven't really finished it.
Currently Reading:
Take a Hint, Dani Brown by Talia Hibbert (second of three in Brown Sisters novels)
AND
Falling Twice by Myst867 this is a Harry and Hermione Fanfic don't @ me
Last Thing Researched for Art/Writing/Hyperfixation:
Pegging and how to do it, SPECIFICALLY for my fanfic although I'm sure I'll need that info in my life eventually 🤭
Favorite Online Fandom Memory:
Probably the DashCon Ball Pit fiasco
Favorite Old Fandom You Wish Would Drag You Back In/Have A Resurgence:
Elementary 😭😭😭😭. I love and miss this version of Sherlock Holmes and Joan Watson so gutturally. It was tender, it was loving, and goddamn it was FUNNY.
Also Charmed (Original) bc if we had ao3 when it was airing it would have been OVER
Favorite Thing You Enjoy That Never Had an Active or Big "Fandom" but You Wish It Did:
There's too many to write but I will start with
Legend of the Seeker a show based on the Sword of Truth novels which was game of thrones-y without the rape scenes being showed and a smaller cast. Loved the chemistry between Craig Horner and Bridget Regan 😭
Pitch This show was done so dirty, I LOVED the concept of this which was the first woman baseball player in the MLB and Mark Paul Gosselaar with Kylie Bunbury dynamic was INSANE. I loved how they tackled certain issues 😭.
Tempting Project You're Trying to Reign In/Don't Have Time For:
Starting another Regency Era fanfic (as if I don't already have one I haven't finished lol)
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hollabastiongirl · 7 months
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Monday Six (thousand, minus about 5k)
tagged by @ornstein
I could indeed give six lines of a WIP I've been ignoring for months and months at this point, but instead I'm gonna post a thousand or so words of a piece that I never intend to finish, but amused me to write as an exercise nonetheless since I haven't written much at all for the My Hero fandom before. What follows is a strange mix of goofy and angsty, but I figure I may as well post it somewhere so it'll stop sitting accusingly in my drafts. Thanks for the tag, ornstein, and here I'll tag @nightfallrevel @snarkyauthor @castershellwrites & anyone else that wants to share six (or however many, go wild) lines of a WIP.
"Holy fuck," Katsuki blurts suddenly and rather loudly, because for all that he's been a fucking ace at everything he's tried since he was old enough to walk, he somehow still hasn't mastered the art of volume control, "I'm in love with that little shit."
From across the library table that they're (reluctantly, on Katsuki's part) sharing, Todoroki barely reacts. He scribbles down a few more meticulously crafted notes on the bullshit hero politics course they're being forced to take and says, quiet and distracted, "I should hope so. Haven't you been together for awhile now?" 
"What??? No?"
Katsuki screeching at near-maximum volume is apparently enough to actually get the bastard's full attention, as heterochromatic eyes deign to lift away from the neat scrawl on his notebook paper in order to level him with a look that's more flat than anything, but skirts the edges of annoyance all the same. Guy's a freak like that, and Katsuki can't figure out how he does it.  "Come on, Bakugou. I'm not blind. Or deaf. He gushes about you and your supposed 'manliness' all the time." 
"WHAT," Katsuki shouts, because seriously, what. The librarian shoots him a nasty look and he just barely resists the burning urge to give her the finger. That hag has some serious pull around here, as he unfortunately learned the last time he pissed her off and received two full weeks of detention for his efforts—most of which he had to spend being one of Dominatrix-sensei's personal bitch boys. And if that wasn't bad enough, Ball Head had served almost as many detentions as Katsuki had. He still shudders just thinking about that whole fiasco. Not fucking worth it. He manages to lower his voice to hiss, "are you actually talking about Kirishima right now," right at Todoroki's stupid, blank face.
"Well, yes. Who else would I be talking about?" IcyHot pauses with a blink upwards, as though an alternate answer will drop from the ceiling and bash him over his stupid candy-cane colored head if he thinks about it hard enough (likely not, but Katsuki might hit him anyway. On principle). None is apparently forthcoming, so he glances back at Katsuki with a shrug. "But from your reaction, I'm assuming I'm off the mark. So…Kaminari?" 
Shit, now that's just insulting. To both of them, even. Katsuki would be willing to bet serious cash that they'd both rather drop dead than somehow fall in love with each other. This idiot, he thinks. What a goddamn joke.  
"NO, dumbass. Not Dunce-Face."
"...Sero?" 
There comes a flash of something that could be interesting to consider in Todoroki's mismatched eyes as he mentions the Human Tape Dispenser, or would be if only Katsuki wasn't preoccupied with NOT leaping across the table to strangle this dumb bastard with his bare hands. Instead, he very calmly says, in his calmest voice, really, really calmly, "ARE YOU STUPID. NO. IT'S DEKU, YOU FUCKING HALF-N-HALF WIT."
"If I'm a half and half wit, doesn't that actually imply I'm a whole wi—"
"For fuck's sake," Katsuki cuts him off with a groan, letting his forehead drop against the cool wooden grain of their study table with a thunk. He'd rather glare a hole through the tabletop right now on the off chance he suddenly develops the ability to explode people (Todoroki, namely) with his eyes. He can't afford to add a manslaughter charge onto his current list of problems. Being in love with Deku is problem enough.
Actually, it's probably the biggest problem he's ever had.
"Are you….okay?" Turd-oroki asks him, seeming curiously wary but looking more constipated than anything. The words sound strange as they pass through the space between them, strained and sour as though Strawberry Shortcake is having some sort of sudden internal crisis about the idea of trying to comfort Katsuki, of all people. Can't really blame him. Katsuki doesn't know how to comfort himself, either. Never has. "You seem…off." 
"Off." Katsuki huffs, though he doesn't bother denying it. "Brilliant fuckin' analysis. Screw being a hero, you should be a goddamn therapist."
There's a pause, like either Todoroki is actually considering a career change or maybe just considering bashing Katsuki over the head with his textbook to put them both out of their misery, and then he says, quietly and with palpable concern, "you seem really off. You didn't even tell me to go to hell just now."
"Go to hell," Katsuki mumbles after the fact. Any vitriol that would otherwise sharpen his voice is tempered by the way his cheek is still smushed morosely against the table. Even Katsuki can't remain intimidating while feeling so pathetic, though he can't bring himself to care much. Not when he feels like this, sick and hot and twisted up inside. "Eat shit and die. Shut the fuck up and get out." 
Todoroki ignores all that, which…fair. "Do you…want to talk about it?" 
"No."
"Are you sure?" As Katsuki finally sits up, all the better to glare at him, IcyHot leans forward a bit and gives him the single most horrifying look of commiseration Katsuki's ever experienced in his shitty life. He's obviously trying to empathize with Katsuki in some way, and even seems to be managing it, and this is… Well, it's too pathetic to stand any longer. He doesn't want to have this conversation. He can't believe he'd been stupid enough to open his fat mouth and blurt this shit out in the first place. Why can't he ever keep his fuckin' mouth shut when it counts?
He does keep it shut, now. He can't think of a thing to say. Nothing that doesn't make him sound like a lovesick loser. Instead, he meets Todoroki's probing gaze and shrugs. He can't be sure of anything, anymore.
Under the table, Katsuki's hands ball into tight fists, fingernails digging savagely into his palms. It eases some of the tension in him as the skin breaks, as though the confusion and longing and misery he's stubbornly holding inside is escaping through the cuts little by little, like air from a sad, deflating pool toy. 
He feels a bit like that, right now. Collapsing into himself and wilting from the steady force of gravity. Inescapable. Inevitable. Inexorable. A weight that doesn't push, but pulls—a force that reels you in so gently that you barely even notice it's happening. Not until you're already falling. 
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The Little Things I Love About ACROSS THE SPIDER-VERSE
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Just like the one I did for PUSS IN BOOTS: THE LAST WISH, and just like the one I did for STRANGE WORLD, here's a little list of particular little details I loved in a detail-packed... Like, literally jampacked movie... SPIDER-MAN: ACROSS THE SPIDER-VERSE:
So far, I have only seen this movie once all the way through in theaters, caught multiple sections over and over at my movie theater job, and again in full on Blu-ray once. I've watched and rewatched sections since, always finding cool stuff. I may revisit the post and update it, too, like I did w/ the previous ones.
Also, MASSIVE SPOILERS ahead... Just in case you still haven't seen this months-old movie...
Much like the first SPIDER-VERSE... Tons of stuff to catch in the glitching opening logos. Logo/design p0rn aaaaall around.
There's already a lot to love in the opening Medieval Vulture attack set-piece, but my favorite detail? As an Italian-American? "Ciao, ragazza!" Complete with the parchment paper script "Bye, girl!" accompanying it. Any elementary school-age kid watching this now knows a little Italian, that's cool!
Lyla's first scene in the movie. Whichever version, too, whether it's the fist-bump or the selfie... I love how she just glitches and zips in and out, while Miguel keeps asking her in vain to call for back-up. Just an out-of-nowhere display of what kind of quirky relationship these two have...
Many have written about the scenes of Gwen and her father, Captain George Stacy, and how they hit very close to home. In that, they perfectly mirror some folks' experiences with coming out. Myself included, whether it's Miles or Gwen... It's even more effective with Gwen, because there are a lot of not-so-subtle hints that she could be a trans girl. (i.e. the dad having a trans flag on his uniform, Gwen having a "protect trans kid" flag, her room turning into trans flag pastel colors when she reconnects with her father at the end of the movie, etc.) I feel it's twice as hard-hitting in the opening action sequence because Captain Stacy has no idea the white-and-pink Spider-Woman is his daughter, loathes Spider-Woman for not-unfounded reasons (he's rightfully upset that Peter Parker is dead) but is taking it way too far (revenge territory), and he's also a cop. Here's this girl trying to reason with a hardened gun-wielding tough guy, who even fires the gun, prompting Gwen to remove the mask... And all the little complexities in the animated acting on George's face, the shock of his daughter being Spider-Woman, mixed with his grief over Parker's death and his sheer anger... It's maybe a minute or two, but goddamn did these animators go off. That's what anchors these movies amidst all the nerd/reference-stuff, spectacle, and dynamic changing art styles.
And to elaborate on this... This is basically a movie about a queer kid running off, without a home, while another one tries to find their people and be with them... Not prepared for the gatekeeping that's ahead... and some of us queers either experience something like those specific things or have a feeling of not belonging. (I also really dig how Jessica Drew is almost like a surrogate mother for Gwen, a parent of sorts who takes her in after showing her father who she is. Almost, as her protectiveness soon starts to wear off and gives way to sarcastic coldness after Gwen pays Miles a visit.) And the little nuances of both of their struggles trying to make it in this truly "elite" Spider-Society. It works perfectly through either Miles' lens or Gwen's.
Lots of graphic design and logos in that short convenience store scene, too. Lots for someone like me to look for.
The Spot seems to have linework going on inside him, of his anatomy and structure... Not dissimilar to the Xerography process used by Disney for animated productions from 1960 to 1985, and how the process overriding the clean-up animation process meant that you saw lots of rough linework, sketches, and planning inside of the characters. Like the rawness of the drawings preserved in the finished films. That technique is often paid homage to in other animated works, such as Tomm Moore's Irish triptych films that he did for Cartoon Saloon.
Much was written about, especially because one of the trailers showed this gag, Rio Morales snapping her finger upon hearing that Miles got a lower grade in Spanish class. A little after that, while Jeff is speaking, the look on her face. How utterly INSULTED she is- Again, just, ooh, great animated acting all around.
"Maybe get off the kid's a-
The first universe Spot visits, love that it's very 2D-looking and very, *very* comic book, a hint of pulp and Art Deco and '60s modern rolled into one... before giving us Venomverse (oh I'm sorry, SUMC) and LEGO.
Much of the Morales' rooftop party scene is just jam-packed to the moon and back with all these little writing nuances, tying in all this stuff about being a teen who is hiding something, reasoning with one's well-meaning but very controlling parents, all the humor and drama that stems from that. All that awkwardness, the embarrassment, how the guests play off of all of that, etc.
Miles pursuing The Spot whilst trying to talk to him... I mean, the entire Mumbattan sequence alone mops the floor w/ maybe 95% of superhero movies made in the last 5 years, but... This scene in particular, where the two are flying through a bunch of intricately-designed and planned buildings full of people with all these swooping camera angles- GO HARD they did.
Hobie's universe particularly referencing the ransom note letterforms that made up the cover of the iconic Sex Pistols album NEVER MIND THE BOLLOCKS, HERE'S THE SEX PISTOLS. They leaned *hard* on early punk from the '70s, more so than any other era, and that's so damn cool.
The subtle animated acting from Gwen during Miguel's warning to Miles about disrupting canon. All the inner-conflict over believing in it or not. And even before that, too, particularly in the aftermath of the Mumbattan Alchemax building collapsing onto the bridge.
And during that whole scene, as the different Spiders start to surround Miles, I like how Hobie is more turned to the side than facing Miles directly, unlike the other Spiders. That's just seconds before it's made clear that Hobie is on Miles' side.
The super-widescreen, Panavision-esque aspect ratio change when - during the whole Spider Society chase - Miles lands on Widow and is confronted by Web-Slinger. Really channeling the spaghetti Westerns, even if that bit has been done before, its use here - very clever.
"SNITCH!"
Miles' smirk when he begins to use his electric charge power to knock Miguel off of him, right before he's about to tell him - and by extension everyone who ever doubted him or told him he can't do what's right or what he desires - off.
The "Go Home Machine" literally being an elaborate spider, itself, inside a nest. Everything, right down to the machinery, all spider-themed. Simply going ALL OUT. Also that scanner that Miguel angrily rips out of the console... What a hilariously excessive work of art that thing is, and we only really see it for like 5 seconds.
Like I said, will likely add more, and this probably read more like yet another review of this film that I really, really love. I apologize for that, lol.
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rounove · 1 year
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I was on missing toastkkuno hours when I saw your post and I just want to say how much I love your art style and the distinctive features and designs you give each of the otv and friends members are. The height and strength differences as well. My god, it’s enough to make one blush.
You don’t want to post them on your main socials and I get that but I just want to thank you for feeding this ship with content because we don’t get enough of that around these parts and the way you just draw- It makes your own little world for them seem so alive. It’s expressive and immersive even if you’ve only done a handful. Gosh, I’m gushing hard.
I may be reading too much into it but like I really really love your clothing palette choice for toast and just how much more casual his wardrobe is and syk’s being deceptively simple but has that more formal feel to it especially with the manhandled comic when you paired those loafers (heh). As if Toast just took whatever (and tried to look good but nothing that betrays his style or takes too much time) while Syk styles himself according to what is expected of him which disarms people using that assumption(and we know Toast sees thru his bs).
I’d really like to hear how you feel about the Canada hug story or even when Syk roomed with the otv gang (and would wait outside Toast’s door. My god-)
Thank you so much! I love Toastkkuno too! They are very interesting, I love how much of a liar Sykkuno is and how much Toast uses vulnerability for clout. It is not accurate and very OOC but the fanfics inspired me. It's all for fun! Their streamer friends made me laugh and they are interesting too, I just have to draw them in some type of way.
I am speechless! I can only thank you for these very kind words! The fanfics really fueled me to draw Toastkkuno even though I am trying my hardest to hold myself back, even though I know I'm going to have a hard time posting. So really thank you for those writers on ao3 for dragging me into this mess.
I like your analysis on their clothing!! That is so cool! I'm going to read this again and again!
DON'T REMIND ME OF THIS!! I GET EMOTIONAL! It is so adorable when Sykkuno described how awkward the hug is and he said it in a I-am-a-huge-Toast-fan way. My god he is so proud of himself. (I AM TEARING UP NOW HOW DARE YOU!!) I WANT TO WITNESS THIS SO BAD ASJDHDKLHF. I know I won't be able to draw this but what if Sykkuno at some held Toast's hands/ arm OR his legs would hook Toast's leg while they are sitting OR have any of his limbs have contact on Toast's so that he'll get alerted if Toast starts to move and leave. Because Toast WILL leave everyone without saying goodbye, because he's just that kind of person and Sykkuno knows this!! He knows he'll do this! He can't leave like that!!
And that cute waddling in front of Toast's room AKSLJDAF. So Toast is an intense person, very scary in business mode so Sykkuno being all cautious like asking "You wanna play?" through his action. ASKDASKAJH WHAT IF after a long stream they haven't been able to see each other as much and he does this waddling and waiting at the door and it means "I miss you", "I want to see you". BROOO I WISH I WAS A GODDAMN WRITER!! aND Toast! No matter what he's doing, business or taking a break, he'll let Sykkuno in and minutes later you'll just hear Toast laughing. I attached a Youtube link below but I appreciate Lily for saying that she just heard Sykkuno stopping in front of Toast's door.
OkAY I'LL STOP!! One time I got hungry for Toastkkuno I went hunting for Toastkkuno compilation on Youtube and looks like we'll be hitting another all time low this time. THIS IS YOUR FAULT ANON!! THANK YOU FOR THE ASK!
For reference:
My Toastkkuno/ Sykkoast art: https://www.tumblr.com/rounove/search/sykkoast
Canada hug: https://www.reddit.com/r/offlineTV/comments/indjoi/sykkuno_describing_his_super_wholesome_hug_with/
Syk waiting outside of Toast's door: (at 4:40) https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=oWIpp4TwCVg&t=3395s&ab_channel=OfflineTVPodcast
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liathesafespace · 9 months
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Writings — 2
Back in my early days as a high school student, my dream career was to be a fashion technologist. However, I had thrown away this thought long ago when I realized it was just a mere interest. I also haven't invested any of my time to focus on the arts as I believe that I am too mediocre for it.
Today, I have found myself being driven to becoming a lawyer. As idealistic as it sounds, my dream is to uphold justice in a country where the masses, especially the poor, are put into a position where they are defenseless. My ambition is to be that defense. Even after several times where I lost my determination and drive to become one, at the end of the day, (and as cheesy as it sounds) my heart belongs to my country and its people.
This was last updated on May 30, 2020.
Today is May 30, 2021. This is pure coincidence, but I just found myself here in this note exactly a year after. I just checked the date after writing the following paragraph. Crazy.
Do you know what's really sad? Now I want to be nothing. My only goal in life is to have a decent job, have enough money to buy all the things I want. Seems like all I want is the easy way out. This whole pandemic learning situation has played a big part in taking away all my hopes and dreams. I am very much aware that it will take too long to go back to traditional learning, maybe I'll even spend my whole college in front of a screen. It so fucking sucks, I hate it so much. This set-up has drained everything I have, including my faith in myself. I know I will be having a difficult time in college if I tried to take Law or any science-related courses, I'm barely even clinging as of this moment to my academics. Everything is substandard, my outputs, my grades. I am very dissatisfied, I wanted to be a lawyer for the masses and for my Lolo. But what could I do? I would lose myself first before I can get back up by myself. I couldn't even count the number of times I wanted to take away my own life this whole school year.
I know that if I take something difficult for college, I would eventually give up on it. And I know that will never be an option for me. It just can't happen. The third child wanting to be out of school? Fuck it if I get away with that without my conscience killing me later on. My mom couldn't take that, she doesn't deserve it either. All this pressure and expectations, goddamn, I feel so burdened.
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deadmandairyland · 9 months
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Damn, it's really been a while since I've done this, huh? But I never forgot about it. How could I? It's such a brilliant idea for an alignment chart! So without further ado, here's the glorious return of
THE PRO WRESTLING FAN ALIGNMENT CHART: DANGANRONPA V3 EDITION!!!
(Skipping DR3 mostly because it's been way too long since I've seen it and I already had a hard enough time doing this with characters I am more familiar with)
Some quick explanations for those of you who need them... which is probably everyone:
Mark: Pro wrestling target audience
Smark: Pro wrestling fandom (into behind-the-scenes stuff, "know-it-all" fans, etc.)
Wrestling is srs bsns: Wants wrestling to be taken super seriously; no comedy wrestling allowed so help me god
Watches DDT: Can watch Kota Ibushi wrestle a blow-up doll on loop for hours on end
With that out of the way, some rationalizations:
Let's start with Himiko. It's no surprise that she's neither a mark nor a smark, because she is the goddamn promotion, baby. She is the only one in this entire chart that is taking kayfabe fucking seriously. You want to go out there and destroy the business? Spill all the fucking beans? Not on her watch. She could be on trial for murder and she would still hold kayfabe because that is just what you gotta do to keep the business alive. Kayfabe is in her blood, her fucking veins. Don't fuck with kayfabe or Himiko will fuck you back. ...Bad choice of words, there.
Keebo and Kirumi don't understand the appeal of watching Kota Ibushi wrestle a blow-up doll. Maki wants to murder the next person that tries to send her a link to that video... which would probably be Kokichi, who I guarantee would have sent that link to over half of the people in this chart.
Kokichi is a smark with a little bit of a mark streak. Miu thinks she's a smark, and certainly acts like one, but she also thinks that every move is called a Dupree Bomb thanks to a certain YouTube channel. Both of them absolutely would watch Kota Ibushi wrestle a blow-up doll for hours on end and send the link to everyone they know afterwards.
Tenko thinks you'd have to be a degenerate male to watch something as depraved as... well... Kota Ibushi blah blah blow-up doll blah blah blah. Thank female Christ that The Amazing Himiko is here to remind us all that professional wrestling is a legitimate sport and not at all athletic theater.
Rantaro is one smarky motherfucker but he don't give two shits about how serious the product is. Plus you know Ibushi is kinda hot, he can do whatever he wants with that blow-up doll as far as Rantaro is concerned. Kokichi agrees with that sentiment.
Korekiyo is an anthropologist. He would absolutely be interested in whatever cultural phenomenons led to... again, the blow-up doll thing. I'm referencing that a lot today, but for good reason. Imagine, if you will, thousands of years from now, archeologists and anthropologists stumble upon a video of a man wrestling a blow-up doll, and it is all they have to go on for knowing of our time as everything else is lost. How will they understand us? How will they come to know us? Therefore, such studies are of absolute importance. Kiyo knows this, and now, so do you. Embrace your knowledge. Embrace your wisdom. Embrace the blow-up doll. I have no idea what the fuck I'm saying anymore.
Shuichi would definitely be more of a mark than Kaede and would definitely take wrestling more seriously. Angie, ever the artist, transcends the title of mark and smark much like Sakura before her, but views pro wrestling as an art form where anything is possible, even five star matches with blow-up dolls. Tsumugi wants you to believe that she's just some plain old mark when in reality she's the smarkiest of them all. Ryoma just doesn't really care all that much. Kaito and Gonta still haven't figured out yet that wrestling is fake.
I have no explanations for the bears because I don't really care. Fuck 'em. Except Monokuma. And the red one, he's alright I guess.
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dzpenumbra · 1 year
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4/25/23
Wow, actually writing this at 2AM again. Take a wild guess why... If you guessed "sleep deprivation", you get a goddamn cookie.
4 hours last night. And the nap didn't work this time, so I just stayed up. Now I've got the sleep deprivation sweats, ever get those? Where it almost feels like a fever, and you get kinda numb and tingly. Fun.
I got to bed 2 hours earlier than normal, but couldn't fall asleep. It's actually been a while since I've had that problem. That used to be my primary life problem, it would take me like... at least an hour to fall asleep every night. I'd just lay there, and my mind would race and I'd toss and turn until I eventually fell asleep. I had a night like that last night, and then again when I tried for my "second-sleep" and failed.
I had more dreams including my mom, I'm sure that's part of it. I don't know. I think it's the Mother's Day ads that are doing it, because it's right around the corner... <eyeroll> I didn't feel emotionally upset when I woke up, it didn't feel like a nightmare. It didn't feel like my neighbors woke me up, I just... woke up. And I was up. And I did not want to go back to sleep for some reason. And I hopped on Instagram and... had the same fucking problem. 3-4 posts to cleanse the palate, then an ad to ruffle my feathers, rinse/repeat. After a bit of scrolling, I started to notice that nothing I was seeing was something I'm actually following. Like... okay, if you're just going to spam my feed with paid advertisements and "suggested" shit, why the fuck do I bother following people? Just fucking say "hey, this is the end of your feed, would you like us to suggest something more?"
Motherfuckers act like curating content for you without you asking is like... a favor. Let me tell you how utterly atrocious this system is, and why it should be opt in, not opt out. I am subbed to the PTSD subreddit. And I got suggested "r/OopsThatsDeadly", which is all visual content of life-threatening situations. Explain to me how that happened. Explain to me how or why that should ever happen. That shit upset me, man. Like... no one asked you to add these features, half the sites won't even let you turn them off, and I really can't think of how these features could work worse.
I tried to do music today. I didn't really work. I'm overthinking shit, or it's just not flowing right, I don't know. So I gave that a whirl for a good chunk of the day, but just tapped out after a while and switched over to art. I decided to hand-draw an abstract ink piece today. I have an empty blank sketchbook that I've been meaning to put shit in, and today was the day, I decided. I went with a sorta bubble-based organic pattern and over the course of the evening filled up the entire page. I can tell I haven't been drawing as much as I used to, my hand's all sore and shit. It just has some fill work to do and then it's done. It was a nice change of pace after this last concept piece, which did not have a lot of drawing, despite the animation work.
And that was basically the day, honestly. Super low-key. I decided to pull the trigger on reserving the shared car last night, so it's reserved for Wednesday afternoon. People from the building are supposed to come and inspect my floor's apartments on Wednesday, no clue what time of day, likely morning, knowing normal humans. So... my plan is to... get to sleep early tonight, then hopefully even earlier tomorrow... Get woken up by a knock on my door. Awkwardly walk them around my apartment half-awake. Then pound an energy drink, and head up to the car around 1PM, drive over to the National Park for the first time and film some trail walking footage for the desire path project. That's pretty much the last missing piece, short of an outro thing... which I'm still back and forth about. I mean... it can't hurt to plug my Patreon, it's just... it just sucks to remember that I have one... and to see how much metaphoric dust has accumulated there.
I started writing about my career for a minute there and then got super depressed, so... I'm just gonna clip that and save it for another time. Let's just say... "it's complicated". I remember the days I used to be really confident and proud to share my work on social media and shit... actually... do I? Actually... now that I think about it... I have never really been one to like... flaunt anything on social media. Like.. if people are interested in my shit - like genuinely interested - I'll tell them anything they ever wanted to know. I just... I don't commoditize my work. Which is so fucking foreign in this country, in this culture. To be a worker... who runs their own business... who produces a product, and the product is technically for sale, but is not explicitly advertised or marketed. Because it's an art piece, not a fucking postcard. And there's an insane amount of pressure to convert all of your art into marketable commodities nowadays. Stickers, prints, merch, you name it. And if that's what you want to do, fucking go for it! I even have a print shop (that I was pressured by my parents into setting up...) for my pieces that were kinda more catered to that... style, I guess. That intention. But the past few years, I found that mentality so fucking restrictive, and I found myself throwing away dozens of amazing ideas because I didn't think they were going to... work. I didn't think they fit my "business model". Good lord, talk about corporatizing art... Ugh.
My past year and a half was breaking from that mold. I have some things I can commoditize if I choose... but my Holy Grail quest has been searching for a good, supportive community that can get me linked up with people who genuinely want to fund my projects. And, on paper, I feel like Patreon could do that. And then I can just get that nasty "how can I hock mass-produced copies" mentality off of my fucking back. Because my work has always been about sentimentality, hand-craft, personal touch. Every piece different, every piece unique. Even before the tattooing, that was there.
I literally cut myself off from talking about my career to... talk about my career. ... Meh.
I just want to say... because it's floating around my mind over and over... it sucks to work very hard on projects day in and day out, from beginning to completion, and have it mean nothing to others. My mom would always give me shit, "you need to create more value for others." Not even kidding, direct quote, can't even count how many times I've heard that. Talk about seeds for a self-esteem complex, "you need to create more value". Bitch, my shit is priceless. Try putting a price on a series of stones I hand-polished over the course of the last few weeks of my cat's life, and the first few weeks of mourning her death. A grief piece. Try to put a fucking price on that shit. Try to sell those.
It frustrates me so much that the arts get so little support nowadays. Like people are perfectly content to watch another regurgitated remake of something they remember from 20 years ago... Gah... I'm generalizing. Not everyone is like that. I'm just gonna nip that one.
So yeah, clearly talking about that stuff is tough for me still, I'm sure it shows in my writing how scattered and chaotic my thinking gets around it. HOWEVER... when I get inspiration? Like my hoodie backpiece - I had a really cool idea to do commissioned pieces where I do like... "clothing tattoos"... in permanent ink or fabric paint, so they last as long as I can possibly make them last. When my inspiration calls me, it will literally pull me out of sleep. And I will work my hands to the bone, regardless of whether I have a client, regardless of bodily needs. And I don't mind the process at all. It's like... it's encoded into who I am as a person. I would get shit in high school and college because I would be drawing in the margins and on my pants and arms and shit constantly.
When I developed this system of just... striking while the iron's hot, capturing inspiration as it comes and seeing where it leads... I started to just... overflow with creativity. I couldn't stop, I had to force myself to stop working to eat and sleep. Kinda like me writing here. Once I get in the zone, in the Flow, and it's all linked up and just... going... I typically have to like... consciously stop myself or else I will go for literal hours. And... I'm gonna be honest... I don't see a ton of people writing more than 144 characters nowadays who aren't being paid to do it. And the ones who are? A lot of them are trying to find AI to do the lion's share for them.
I feel like it's coded into who I am. And making it work for me? That has led to me making some of the coolest shit I've ever made in my life. Shit I never would've dreamed of making. So yeah, I'm really lucky I have the opportunity to pursue this, because if I wasn't? I'd be daydreaming at some job I didn't care about all day every day, and that kinda just feels like... waiting to live, or something. Like waiting for a life to start, but like... I'm sorry... I don't think anyone is gonna come walkin into a shop I'm working at and just hand me the job I'm describing here. I'm not even sure how to describe it to people myself!
I just really need to power through these anxieties and get linked up with an artist's community, like a collective or something. But the one near me? I... I'm gonna be honest... I'm not sure I'll fit there... Like... one of my upcoming pieces is going to be a carved goat skull dyed with homemade inks made from incense ash and coffee grounds. And they've got like... stylized drawings of cats and shit. No offense, it's good work, it's just... you know... I feel like I'm kinda doing a different thing. Like, if I go to the person who only draws cats... and I say "hey, I had this idea the other day, I want to go in the woods and transplant moss into carefully measured geometric designs outlined with stones. But I want it to be a pop-up thing. Something that isn't clearly announced, something that just... organically appears in nature. How do I get someone to help me with my bills while I work on that project entirely by myself?" I'm gonna level... I think they're gonna look at me like I just sprouted 40 heads.
So... until I can get that figured out? I'm just living off the cash I got from selling my car, and whatever charity I get from my family... who don't talk to me. Scary way to live. But it's just where things are for right now.
So yeah... I'm super tired. But... you know what? I'll share what I worked on today. It's not done, so... yeah.
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I haven't finished filling in the connecting bits, and I was going to completely fill the left side, by the spine. So yeah, a little break from the mold. It's been a while since I've done patterns like this, especially consistent circles, usually I do more organic shapes. I was just watching this video on soil compositions the other day that made me think of these types of designs, and how you can look at them two different ways, like a stretched membrane with holes in it, or like bubbles or particles suspended in a medium or something. Or maybe both? Idk, it's very meditative, very relaxing work.
As for future projects, there's the hoodie that I have to finish, my horoscope chart on the back of it and mandalas all down the right sleeve... there's the goat skull... I have a wood carving that's been sitting in my mind lately that I'd like to attempt at some point this summer, we'll see if I get around to it... I have my helmet and my grip tape on my new skateboard to customize... I still don't know what to do with either of them right now... I was thinking maybe a really detailed phoenix on the griptape? I don't know, I'm giving it time to come to me. And... I wanted to do a painting of the Egyptian god Thoth on my cargo shorts. Maybe some ornamentation to go with it. Not sure.
Ya think I've got enough work backlogged?! I love this desire path project, it's a really cool concept and the whole thing is turning out well, I'm just... I'm kinda ready to be done with it. XD Just to start working on something new, you know? And this, this ink drawing today? That was very refreshing, it felt great.
That's a really good vibe, so I'm cool ending there. :)
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gardenerian · 2 years
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Mashup! 78 and 85
💜💜💜
i've made it a personal challenge to not make all of these too soft and sappy - so we're about to get weird. presenting: money issues + holidays (+ a trope i added whoops)
ian and mickey are roommates 👀 and the holidays are approaching. it's the first christmas since ian moved out of the gallagher house and he wants to go all out for his siblings - host a big dinner, elaborate gifts, the works.
mickey kinda doesn't give a shit... he lets ian take over the damn apartment and doesn't even roll his eyes that much. but ian wants mickey to be part of it all, so he hangs out while ian bakes cookies and decorates. maybe he likes how excited ian gets. and he tries not to choke on his own tongue when ian hangs up mistletoe.
now, ian does all of this decorating immediately after thanksgiving - and he quickly runs out of cash. between rent, tuition, and bills, his budget doesn't quite stretch to the big dinner or elaborate gifts. his credit card is taking a big hit, and he needs some extra cash.
it's a little too late to find another job, so ian decides to... well. ian decides to make some tastefully done holiday themed... art? he calls it art. mickey calls it pictures of his roommate that he's kind of in love with wearing tiny red shorts and a santa hat 😡 it's weirdly hot to see, but also incredibly annoying to know that old randos on the internet will be getting these pictures in their inboxes.
mickey can't stand ian parading around in these goofy little outfits - the elf costume is really too far - so he starts hiding cash for ian to find. in pants pockets, in drawers, maybe he buys some of the ingredients for ian's big dinner and nonchalantly hides them in the pantry.
it takes ian an embarrassingly long time to catch on. he hasn't even made any money from these photos yet and suddenly he's flush with cash? when he catches mickey sneaking peppermint extract into the pantry, it all makes sense. he's an idiot, mickey's an idiot.
he grabs mickey by the shoulder and whirls him around, and mickey is just 😳😳😳😳 at getting caught.
ian gets all close and says "😏 what're you doin?"
"putting away some groceries, damn, that okay with you?"
"oh yeah? you bought this peppermint for yourself? and all the cinnamon and cloves? you gonna put that on your pizza bagels, mick?"
"maybe i will. you don't know my life, leave me alone."
ian moves impossibly closer. "mickey. i know what you're doing."
"look. i bought some shit, and if i have extra, you can use it for your weird christmas party."
"extra? mickey, christmas is in two weeks and none of this has been opened! and i suddenly have $200."
"i'm not sure what you think you're gettin' at."
"mick, come on. just tell me."
"tell you what? that you're bad at laundry and that's why you keep finding money in your pants?"
ian doesn't say anything, just raises an eyebrow, still smirking.
"fuck - fine. i hate those fucking shorts, i hate the fucking hat, i hate that some old fuck is probably gonna jerk off to those pictures before joining his family at christmas dinner. fuckin hate it."
"and why's that?"
"no, fuck you. why don't you tell me why you're smilin' like that, huh? why you put goddamn mistletoe in every doorway of this apartment?"
"because i want to kiss you."
and - okay. mickey wasn't expecting that. he thought this game would go on all night. "then do it, jesus, gallagher - "
and they're kissing all pressed up in the pantry and it smells like peppermint and spices and mickey reaches up and tugs that fucking hat off ian's head and pulls at his hair and and and
later they're in ian's bed, mickey's got the elf hat on. ian runs a hand up mickey's arm.
"you know, you could have just told me about the pictures. i haven't even sent them yet, i can just delete the account. i've been finding a lot of cash in my pockets lately, it's so weird. think i'll be okay."
mickey leans up and kisses him 😌 they host ian's ridiculous christmas dinner together, and ian gives mickey's money back. his siblings don't need elaborate gifts, just some time together 💕
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saksukei · 3 years
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wen junhui college au
other college aus; wonu minghao mingyu
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you're damn right if you think that wen junhui is a theatre arts major because he iS and that too with humanistic studies as a minor aH and he's also on the rowing team,,, he started rowing as a joke and now he has one of the best times??? like. how.
and everybody knows he has too much energy and he uses it in the best way possible
like the plays? dude has a separate fanclub
you keep on seeing new tweets about “who’s the black haired guy in the play?” like wen junhui’s popularity is straight up no joke,, EVERYBODY KNOWS HIM
you on the other hand are an exercise physiology major with nutrition as a minor and you're also part of the rowing team,, and you have the best time for the women’s team,, which means,, you see junhui every other day,,
the coach pairs you guys often,, but there’s only one small issue,,,
YOU HATE WEN JUNHUI
he's such a pain in the ass,, he teases you every time he sees you,,, he always challenges your skills and makes you doubt yourself,, oh the amount of times you’ve wanted to deck him in the face,,
and today was the same as well
“you're not dead yet?” you hissed, as you saw jun approach you,,
“dont sound so disappointed, I might think you don't like me,” he retorted, a smug expression on his face, as he set his bag right beside yours.
“but I really don't like you,” you roll your eyes,,
jun chuckled, as he clapped his hands together, getting everyone's attention.
you guys were practicing indoors, on the rowing machine because there was some trouble with the equipment and the coach had to go get new stuff
which also meant he left jun in charge,, the teams assembled,, looking at junhui for directions,,
“alright everyone, warm up for ten and then start with a thousand metres,” he instructed. “and y/n, you're my partner.”
you rolled your eyes while everyone was whistling or smirking
it was no secret that you and jun didn't get along and he purposely tried to get on your nerves,,, heck everyone in the club said you two would fall in love at one point or another but you assured them by saying you'd rather choke
“your IQ is lower than room temperature junhui if you think that I want to train with you,” you hissed, as the two of you walked towards the machine.
“oh I'm sorry, I don't compare my intelligence quotient to someone who was deprived of oxygen when they were born,” he snapped, as he started warming up.
“you know what,” you spoke. “i'll just aggressively ignore your existence until you disappear.”
“maybe you should try doing it with that bird hair of yours, looks like worms will crawl out of it soon”
“why don't you look at your face first– ass clown?”
“why don't you look at your face first ass clown” he mimicked in a high pitched tone and all you wanted was to stab him there and then
“CAN YOU TWO SHUT UP WE'RE TRYING TO PRACTICE?” one of the team members yelled, causing you two to fall silent and warm up.
the next day,,, one of your best friends had begged you to go to her department because she had misplaced one of her things,, you only agreed on the basis that you'd be getting pizza
you were passing by the theatre to the class she told you to go to,, and you heard someone rehearsing their lines,, you went ahead to see who it was,,
of course it was jun with a script in his hands,,
and you don't know what it was,, but something just pulled you into the room,, maybe it was the way his words echoed of the walls,, the emotion in those alluring eyes of his,,
you actually sat down and listened to him instead of wanting to kill him,,, understanding what the hype was around him,,
like? you didn't even know this side of junhui existed??? excuse me? he was the biggest dick alive to you so you never really paid attention to anything nice that he did but this,,
you didn't even realize he had stopped until someone snapped you out of it
and you saw jun standing right in front of you
“well well well, it looks like I have a fan,” he smirked, folding his arms as he bent down to your level
“h-heck no,, I was just,,, looking for the um.....” you cursed your memory internally for forgetting.
“umm?” he teased,,
“shut up, I really was looking for something,” you snapped
“alright, alright” he surrenders,, raising his hands in defeat. “how was it though?” he asked.
“what?”
“the lines,, i'm sure you heard some of it.”
“they were um,,, good,” you reply,, shyly,, you've never been used to giving him compliments,,
jun nods as an awkward silence befalls the both of you,, you take it as a que to leave,, but then his voice stops you,,
“hey,, why don't you rehearse with me?” he suggested. “my actual partner is really busy and I need someone to rehearse with.”
“uh,, yeah sure?” you reply,,, as he hands you the script,,
jun started reciting his lines and you responded with the same enthusiasm
but the only thing that worried you was the last,, scene
in the script, it was written that jun's chracter would walk over to where you were, push your character against the wall and would try to initiate a kiss but your character would push him away
and so jun recited his last line, “i don't think I've ever tasted lips so fine, heck i'd taste them over and over again” he walked towards you, eventually pushing you against the wall
and your hEART WAS LIKE BADUMP!!
and his face was an inch from away from yours and you could feel his breath tickling your ear and you realized,,, how pretty wen junhui was,, how perfectly sculptured his face was,, those lips,, those cheekbones?? wait what??
and you were so mesmerized with how he acted on stage you didn't really realize you had to play a part as well
jun broke his stance, “you know you're supposed to push me away right?”
AND YOU BECAME RED
“y-yeah uh–but I–um remembered that I left the stove on!” you lied. “aND I DID SO BYE JUN!” you grabbed your bag and yEETED YOURSELF OUT OF THERE
and jun was confused but he ignored it and started rehearsing again
you on the other hand were trying to calm yourself like ???? It's just wen junhui? what the FUCK? Why is your heart racing so fast?? you were so confused? wHY? why is this happening
and the next time you saw him at training, oh dear god
“well if it isn't miss sunshine,” jun grinned.
“shut up jun, your existence makes me want to die,” you muttered,,, you felt your cheeks getting warm,,
“well, great, I think I'd be doing the world a favor.”
“jun if you're going to bother me one more time during practice I'm going to kick you so hard you will lose the ability to entertain a partner” you hissed, as you started warming up.
“nah,, you don't have the balls to do it,” he grinned, especially proud of the pun he used.
“you know what,,, I don't give a damn, so just leave me alone.”
“you give so many damns, they're visible from space,,,” he says,, his face is close to yours,, and you stop BREATHING
jun grins,, he thinks he has rendered you speechless,, as he goes up ahead to train with the boys,,
aND YOU FELT YOUR HEART WAS GOING TO JUST POP OUT OF YOUR CHEST
and now you were noticing all of these little things about him,, from his silly smile, to how he rolls his eyes, copies every small thing someone else does, to his goofy jokes, how his hair falls on his face, or just,,, him in general
all the while trying to keep your angry/annoyed facade so that he wouldn't pick up on it
but oh boy, it's wen junhui
and he notices every goddamn thing
including how much you've been staring at him especially in today's training session
he knew you were acting really weird since the rehearsal thingy but he was letting it slide because he thought you were upset or something and he didn't want to get on your nerves more
regardless, you decided to ignore jun from today onwards,, to stop feeling whatever you were feeling,,
and every thing was going great
you barely talked to him in rowing practice, you didn't attend the plays or even go anywhere near him
and jun,,,, he stopped annoying you as well
for two months
the whole damn university noticed but nobody dared to say anything ,,,,, in fear that you guys won't talk again
you were casually walking to the cafeteria and you heard something that just ,,,,, made your heart stop
“did you hear that jun got injured really badly? He was practicing in the theatre and this glass fell on his foot,,”
aND YOU DID A FULL 180 AND RAN AS FAST AS YOU COULD TO WHERE HE WAS
you had no idea why you suddenly cared so much like sure yeah, it was bad he got hurt but you were running so fast you felt your heart would pop out of your chest
the nurse eventually led you to where he was
and you saw his leg covered in bandages???
and your heart just broke
“hey what are you doing here?” jun asked. “i haven't seen you in like,,, two months?”
“jun I'm sorry–” you felt tears slide down your face. “i'm sorry I ignored you every time you tried to make a conversation with me or whatever I just,,, I had all these feelings that I couldn't figure out and I got scared–”
“hey hey hey, it's okay,” he cooed, as he opened his arms wide, only for them to wrap around you, as you cried in his chest. “no harm done, I promise.”
“no but jun– I was really inconsiderate and I just kept on feeling like I was missing something but I couldn't figure out what it was,” you cried out. “i felt ignoring you would be a solution but I just, I don't know?”
“hey, okay listen to me– what happened in these past two months happened–” he wiped the tears from your face. “but I hope you understand that the only reason I used to bother you a lot was because,, well,,, I really geniunely like you.”
“l-like me?” you stuttered.
“why do you think I annoy the crap out of you?”
“because you're an idiot, you like doing stuff like this,” you answered.
“but you're the only one I annoy?”
“okay that part I missed,” you give him a weak smile,, jun chuckles,, ruffling your hair,,
“in all seriousness though, I hated these two months. I felt like you were upset or something and I didn't want to risk hurting you even more so I stopped talking altogether because I thought you'd talk to me if I did,,” he admitted.
“its my fault this happened in the first place,” you responded. “and I now realize how stupid I am.”
“you're not stupid, you're just an ass clown,” he joked, a playful smile on his face.
“but i'm still sorry, junhui,” you sighed. “i really didn't want this to happen.”
“hey, it's okay– we both were right in our own places.”
“so um now what do we do?” you asked.
“well it depends,” he answered. “does someone want a cute, charming, handsome and brilliant boyfriend?” he grinned.
“only if he wants an amazing, beautiful, smart and talented girlfriend,” you answered.
“oh he sure as hell does,” jun grinned.
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avintagekiss24 · 2 years
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It really, really pisses me off when people steal work from other writers. You are not a writer if you steal from other people. It took you moments to steal something from another writer that could've taken them anywhere from hours to weeks to years to write. I don't think a lot of people who aren't creators of creative content (art, writing, gifs, etc) truly understand how devasting, disheartening and infuriating it is to have your work stolen. Not to mention traumatic.
I speak from experience. I tried to make a webseries years back, got the pilot shot and everything and then the editor held my work hostage because he wanted it for himself (wanted to add and cut what he wanted) and me being green had shared all my scripts with him. I had to go to a solicitor and threaten him with legal action. Thankfully, I had got him to sign a contract. It was one of the most traumatic experiences I have ever been through. I couldn't even go through with filming the rest of the series, something I was so in love with before. I am overly cautious about sharing now and still haven't worked up the courage to post on here (with over 50 fics over 2yrs) since the youngm*neymill fiasco.
I am so sorry this happened to you. It may seem trivial to some who want to defend their faves or friends because it's "just fanfiction" but it's YOUR words. YOUR hours. YOUR effort. It's YOURS. And no one should feel entitled to even lift a sentence of it. FUCK THEM THIEVES. They are cowards. They could've asked for help, asked for pointers, confided in someone about their insecurities, taken a break, read a book, done a hundred other things to improve their own writing. To me, folks do that stuff for attention. They think they deserve the accolades or praise they see others getting and want to skip the process to get to the cream without struggle or effort and I truly hate that for them.
Sorry for the rant but this is triggering. You have produced swaths of quality work and you shouldn't have to worry that posting will make you vulnerable to such a gross violation. It sucks the fun out of everything.
I love your work and I am going to continue to love on your work. 🧿🧿🧿🧿🧿🧿🧿🧿🧿🧿🧿🧿🧿🧿🧿🧿🧿🧿🧿 may they protect you from those who lie to themselves about their badmind actions.
First let me say that I’m so very sorry that happened to you. That’s awful, and I hope you do find the heart to post your stuff (and finish your web series) one day!
Second, thanks so much for the kind words. I was and still am pretty goddamn offended. Like… she tagged me in the freakin fic… the audacity that takes bro sksksjs then, when I confronted her and showed her screen shots of the shit she lifted from me, she lied to my freakin face about it. Literally told me that she started her fic before I posted mine… but yet had the exact same intro/set up/characters/lines/warnings/premise as my fic did… that I posted a year ago… And then she posted a fic the day after I confronted her lmaooo as if our entire conversation never happened. As if she hadn’t already plagiarized 3 fics from myself and someone else and had been confronted by both of us (all within like a month, by the way)
I mean… I guess content creators kinda do sign this invisible contract with the internet when we post publicly, cuz any and everybody can then copy and paste our stuff and put their name on it because it’s out there in the void. I just thought more people would have some freakin integrity and wouldn’t want to ruin the one thing we find pleasure in, which is fandom. And sure, I’ve blocked buckybarnesplumwhore and her main blog, but because tumblr is a joke, she can still log on to desktop and see my blog and fics unfiltered. So yeah, i just feel really blah about writing and posting right now, and that sucks cuz she’s still just posting away as if this never happened.
Man, I really need Chris or Sebastian to post a pic of their tiddies to break this funk I got going on 😝
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absjsjhsjsks you're not gonna believe this. i don't believe this. my life is a goddamn joke. so i wake up in the morning after sending you that last ask. and the first thing i see that morning is that the guy i told you about TEXTED ME. and we haven't talked in over 10 months so that's obviously weird. and, like any sane person's, my first thought is: you replied to my ask, he has a tumblr, he follows you, he read it, i have been exposed, he knows, i revealed too much, i'm fucked. so naturally, because i'm not gonna walk into a conversation like that without being sure what i'm dealing with, i go to your tumblr and see if you replied. you hadn't, so unless you're that guy in a trench coat, life just really likes playing jokes on me (the conversation by the way was so random, i have no idea why he texted me)
honestly though, if he had asked me out while standing in front of me and not through a text, my reaction would've been absolutely the same as yours. just a lot of staring and panicking. i definitely would not have come up with any lie, because even through text i kept taking about 5 minutes to reply to each thing he said (how I expected him to believe me i don't know). so that's definitely a valid reaction.
ok but can i just say that i love your lie about the boyfriend. my 15 year old self wishes she had that much imagination. and honestly aside from moving because the parents don't approve it's a pretty solid lie, i'd believe that. also i would just dig the star-crossed lovers thing so much that i'd be like, oh he moved to the other side of the world just because his parents didn't approve? seems like a typical doomed-from-the-start-love thing, i don't even CARE if it's not plausible
and thanks! it definitely took me a while to understand that i was ace and it wasn't just that everyone feels like that. realising i'm pan was definitely easier. and english does attract all of us queer people, doesn't it? i love that, it's very cool
oh no, that is the worst coincidence. I would be so sure I’d been found out in that situation. i am glad the conversation was just random! not tryna expose anyone on here except myself. life is playing with you HARD. but i can confirm i don’t own a trenchcoat, probably because i’m too short for any of them to fit me probably and give off the correct vibe and also i’m not shady enough. yet. i own a puffer jacket if that’s close enough. and a dressing gown. the fluffy dressing gown is actually probably the closest item of clothing i have.
ohhhhh through text is better. if it was through text i would’ve blocked them, dropped out of school, moved countries, changed my name and started a new life in a large city where no one knows me. a much better response tbh. luckily no one at school had my number and so that could never happen :). I think basically the ideal situation here is just no one ever likes me. that works out well.
sdjhfkshdfsdf i cannot believe any part of me thought that lie would work. i was just like how do i explain the american thing without saying we met on the internet. i know. we met in new zealand but he moved because ... [rolls dice] his parents didn’t approve. this is DEFINITELY a much better explanation for the long distance thing. i think i grew up a LOT slower than most of the people i knew so it was a lie that probably would’ve suited a younger audience better sdfkshdfk.
oh yeah dude. i’ve had friends willing to kind of explain sexual attraction to me and it...still does not seem believable. I still feel like I’m being tricked. this seems fake. you just...see people and...no that sounds fake. no way. that’s a bit extreme don’t you think. for me it wasn’t until i started to click with how others felt that I realised I didn’t personally get that and did my research. i didn’t think twice of it beforehand. being bi on the other hand, well, i knew since primary school that girls were significantly more attractive than boys,, didn’t know what about the concepts of being straight or gay or so on back then but i learned once i hit high school and i was like oh yeah. girls. let me find a label. well it was more like [several years long sexuality crisis] but y’know. regardless i still knew that. girls. 
can confirm english and writing studies attract queer people. possibly the arts more broadly but i can just confirm my little area. shoutout to the one writing lecturer who tried to draw a straight line on the board, failed, then muttered to herself, ‘that’s not very straight...but then neither am i.’ that’s legend behaviour right there.
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somelazyassartist · 4 years
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I feel unsatisfied with my artistic talent and I feel like all of the work I've put into getting better is going nowhere. I've been teaching myself art for as long as I can remember, I should at least be able to make something I'm proud of. All I can really see at this point is how I could have drawn things better but not knowing how to make it how I want really stresses me out. I feel like I should be far more advanced than I am. And I've tried taking proper art classes to try to get better, but the teacher I had absolutely sucked, she dismissed all of the talent I do have, got upset with me when I finished projects early (because I was forced to be in a beginner's class when I have a lot of experience and already knew how to do every project easily) and belittled me for having practiced so much already (she said it "wasn't fair" that I was ahead of the other students??? When I was ahead because I should have been in the advanced class because I practiced??????), didn't give two shits about a classmate purposefully sabotaging our plaster masks because they were high and mad that we didn't want to ditch class with her to smoke pot, and never graded my projects simply because she "didn't feel like it". So yeah, not sure I want to take another art class after all that mess. I just feel so worthless, y'know? The talent I have gets overlooked, and I get absolutely nowhere when I try to prove myself. In fact, people get mad at me for wanting to share drawings that I spent hours upon hours making because it's "annoying", and that makes me want to stop even more! It feels like there's no point to making anything! Everything I make that gets the slightest bit of attention are things I made purely to pander to my audience, nobody gives a shit about what I want to make or what I like drawing! I doubt you'll find a SINGLE drawing I've posted that I haven't begged people to look at! And don't even get me started on writing!! I used to LOVE writing!! It was what I was known for on Amino before I deleted it!! But now I don't even have the confidence to write a goddamn sentence because I know nobody will give a shit and it's going to turn out like crap! And fuck it, I'm starting to lean towards that route with my art too!! Not that likes and reblogs are everything, but when you want to show people something that you worked so hard on despite having chronic pain in your shoulders that makes it incredibly painful to draw but you do it anyway because it's your dream to be a real proper artist someday, it fucking hurts when nobody even acknowledges your existence!!! I know that nobody owes me that, and I don't want to just guilt anyone into reblogging it either, I just wish that I could make something worth reblogging and I get so mad at myself for not being able to!! I'm trying, I'm trying so hard!!! Drawing hurts, it hurts so badly but I do it anyways because I love it! But I'm not good, and at this rate I feel like my artistic talent is declining!! I can't make anything I like anymore!! This is what I get for using it as my only outlet for my trauma, once I got past the time when that stuff was still happening to me everything I drew turned bland and dull!! I can't do anything right anymore!! I feel so awful about this, but I actually almost want to be abused again just so I can actually put passion into my art again!! How fucked up is that? I feel like a fucking monster for ever thinking of that but I can't help it!!! I'm just so fucking tired of everything!!! I just want everything to disappear!! I want everyone to forget I ever existed, I don't want to be seen by anyone anymore!! I just want it all to stop!!!
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noosesurroundsme · 5 years
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I need to get some things off my chest. (tw?)
I don’t know how to start this. I keep trying to make sense of the things in my head but I can’t. I feel like I just sound needy and annoying. I feel fake; I can't possibly be sick if I look like this. I'm certainly not at my lowest weight. My lowest weight isn't low in comparison to the many other anorexics who’ve died or been in hospital. I didn't even look sick then. I looked normal. No one noticed then so how will they now, not that I really want them to. I just feel like a massive faker (in physical context too).
I feel this aching in my chest and I don't know why. I feel so goddamned empty, numb, and agitated at the same time. I feel like a goddamned failure. I am a failure. I am a piece of shit. He's fucking right, always has been. He hasn't been in my life for 4 years now and I can not blame him anymore when I haven't tried to change. I can't take responsibility, I should but I am not mature enough to own up to it. I keep saying to everyone that if he didn't hurt me maybe I would have become the person I so desperately want to be. But I don't even try. I just cut and starve myself and procrastinate on my life. My goals have always gone to the wayside since I was little. The only one I ever have a damn about is losing weight. It's more valuable to me than my dreams and my goals. I am 22 years old and I'm still wasting my life on an illness. I admit it but I refuse to fucking stop doing it.
My mom and her boyfriend want me to pursue what I really want to do with my life; I don't know what that thing/those things really are. I keep saying I want to work in the medical field but do I? I know that I can see insides and not be bothered, most people who have seen my scars would agree. I know anatomy. I find life and the inner workings of it so fascinating. Then there is the part of me that wants to really pursue my art. I love tinkering and making things, and making them perfect/neat. I really like my model kits and how therapeutic it can be. Maybe I go to school for the real world version, autobody. I can make things pretty and neat for a living. I just feel scared of being the only (or of the few) women in a male dominated career. I am not enough for myself so how can I prove to them that I am an equal. I worry that soon I'll move on to something else and if waste that time doing these in school I never get it back and there's money gone that I don't have.
No, I’m not happy, Bryan. I want so badly to rip the flesh from my bones. I want to cut the pain and the mistakes out of my brain. I want to forget who I am and erase my memories. I want to blow my fucking brains out and die without a trace. That’s not what you wanted to hear though is it? Like since I was a child all anyone wants to do is lock me away and let some stupid institution deal with me. They can’t fix me because I don’t want to be fixed. I want be erased. I want to turn back to clock to my conception to stop it from happening. I’m so goddamned tired. I am tired of being a failure. I am tired of living on borrowed time. I am tired of using this valuable space that someone so much more capable and valuable should inhabit. I am tired of living with the guilt. I am tired of the paranoia. I am tired of the voices in my head. I am tired and I want to leave. I want to feel what it felt like the night of March 11, 2017 all over again. Only I won’t make that fucking mistake again. I won’t ask for help. It’s not worth it. I am not worth it.
The cold floor. The warmth rushing from my arm. The smell of vomit in the air and the vomit on the floor. Those shakes. The calm in the end. I was so close.
But I am a coward.
[If you made it all the way here, I am sorry. Please don't report this or anything. I just needed to put some of my thoughts into words. It's been so long since I've done so. My head is a mess and I just want to sleep.]
[also, people are color coded by their favorite colors as to not confuse them. My mom's bf is green and her ex husband (who he is to me is not to be said) is blue)]
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uruhaxrukifanfics · 5 years
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Can you write their first kiss?? If you haven't already. I love your little fics sm!! 😭😭
Undercover work was Takanori’s least favorite assignment as of lately. And it wasn’t simply because it paired him with Kouyou, their newest asset to the department that had worked his way from being an incarcerated son of a wanted Yakuza oyabun �� a criminal Takanori had busted his ass to catch – to a liable source that could aid them with their latest big lead that could bring this home. A liable, willing source that was now his newly assigned partner and, quite literally on paper to make it believable, his “husband.”
If murder were legal, Yutaka would be six feet under in a grave plot with Kouyou in another not too far off. What could have possibly posses Yutaka to pair him with the infuriating man? It was beyond him. It wasn’t like Takanori didn’t understand why. When they weren’t at each other’s throat with banter and teasing meant to rile the other up, they were a match made in heaven. With Takanori’s old track record for theft and eye for manipulating tech and Kouyou’s skilled deception only a well-seasoned con-man could have they were a force to reckon with. Yutaka needed them. Takanori holding his tongue and complying was the least he could do.
Even if it meant wearing a wedding band on the fourth finger of his left hand in a marriage that was a sham for the sake of work. The case.
Visible authenticity to the outside world was all that mattered if they wanted to home in closer to their suspect target. From the leads they had so far, they were potentially eyeing a kyodai rumored to be laying low and out of from under the raider under a pseudonym. The closer they got to him, the closer they got to infiltrating the syndicate. And the moment the did that, the sooner the could capture the wanted oyabun.
It’d been rough, the first few months into their ‘marriage’, sharing a house that didn’t have an inch of framed wedding photos or air to deem it home. If they slept in the same bed, their backs faced each other’s, the bedside empty come the rise of the morning sun. Takanori snored when he sleeps, Kouyou teased, and Takanori retorted that Kouyou had unforgiving morning breath, only to barely resist throwing his coffee mug at Kouyou’s head when Kouyou had the audacity to raise his eyebrows and smugly ask how would he know if he wasn’t trying to make a move on him in his sleep? But to the outside world? They were sheer perfection incarnate.
“I put my hand at the small of his back saying excuse me in the crowded coffee shop - that same coffee shop I pass by all the time yet hardly ever went in except that day - and for a moment I thought, shit, with how quickly he whirled on me, he was going to rip into me for touching him. But he looked at me,” Takanori fought the urge to gag or downright laugh in Kouyou’s face at the loving gaze Kouyou pinned him with whilst smothering down the little foreign flip in his stomach, “and something inside me just… knew. Fate chose us for one another.” 
Quite the fucking contrary. Their ‘serendipitous chance’ was an all-out brawl in a Las Vegas casino (that he was still banned from, mind, for the damage done much to Yutaka’s blood pressure-raising horror) where Takanori’s leads led him to Kouyou’s whereabouts at the time, illegal activity up the ass to elongate his track record for the rest of his life, and walked away with a limp in his step, bruises that took weeks to heal, and Kouyou in handcuffs, just as worse. Love wasn’t anywhere near on their agenda, but selling the façade was the goal. So, Takanori smiled and rested his hand over Kouyou’s, allowed him to intertwine their fingers and soak up the dreamy sighs of admiration as Kouyou pressed a chaste kiss to the back of his hand, right where his wedding ring rested, whilst  holding his gaze with a concealed, mischievous smirk.
Kouyou was good at what he did, Takanori would give him that. An outstanding liar deserving of a standing ovation, his talent of charismatic charm shining brighter than any star Takanori had ever seen when it wasn’t used to work his last nerve behind closed doors. And if it had, Kouyou had gotten pretty damn good at laughing when catching Takanori’s wrist to pull him into his chest before Takanori could go anywhere else, sniggers in his ear telling him to stay. And Takanori would with little to no fight, a moody grump pliant in Kouyou’s hold made to work from the warmth of his lap with Kouyou’s chin propped on his shoulder to watch and offer his musings. His reason being? Kouyou sucked out what inch of energy he would have to be bothered.
It was the damn house. It felt more of a home with the passing months as they added little things with time in between. Their marriage certificate was framed on the wall in their bedroom over the bed. From sleeping with their backs facing each other to Kouyou being more than comfortable enough to lazily roll across Takanori, mumbling in his sleep, half asleep and out of his mind, grinding his goddamn morning wood into him with a little husky hum riding the precipice of pleasure, “You’d look so good in thigh-highs, you know. The lacy sheer ones, with little belts at the thighs to keep them up.” 
To this day Takanori still wasn’t sure what Kouyou had said was intentional or if he was genuinely talking nonsense in sleep, but the weight of morning wood pressing against him with Kouyou’s face in his neck was unmistakable. He didn’t have the slightest bit of regret taking advantage of the position and making quick work to roll and let Kouyou fall in an unceremonious heap on the carpeted floor. If he thought about the husk of Kouyou’s voice in his ear, or how warm Kouyou felt over him for days, weeks to come, it wasn’t any of Kouyou’s business no matter how crabby he was for the ‘cheap shot’ snuck in on a defenseless man while sleeping.
Almost a year in and it hadn’t been the last. Takanori had grown tired of threatening to fling Kouyou off him and Kouyou had become smarter, loosely wrapping himself around Takanori and holding him to his chest when he strayed too far towards the edge of the bed in the middle of the night where Kouyou fussed he’d hurt himself one of these days if he rolled off. It wasn’t like he could help it, just like Kouyou couldn’t help if he got migraines when he went so long without wearing his glasses. 
As a team, it was an inconvenience to them both when it boiled down to working, but Takanori made him hot lemon tea regardless, annoyed out of his mind despite the curl of concern in his stomach when Kouyou curled in on himself to shield away from too bright lights and the snap of his scold. Kouyou never listened to a word he told him. He was furiously stubborn with a habit of making inappropriately humoring quips at equally inappropriate times but didn’t speak a word to bring attention to how his hand reached out for the hem of Takanori’s shirt without looking up at him. Like an unseen queue, Takanori sighed and joined him in bed to gentle massage Kouyou’s temples until he fell asleep and stayed. More times than not, Taknaori wasn’t too far behind him for a midday nap, anyway. It only made sense.
There was an endearment to Kouyou Takanori didn’t know could possibly exist. A con-man he was, an exquisite liar, Taknaori could see why Yutaka offered Kouyou the deal he had. But Kouyou was more than the prized leverage they needed. The thorn in his side he’d come to get used to. He was the smell of home cooked meals and rich aroma of freshly brewed coffee while Takanori’s eyes tired from working endlessly on his laptop. He was unexpected bouquets of snort-laughter at lousy jokes and inappropriate innuendo that well deserved the nearest object thrown at him. He was the tune of an unheard song that his fingers danced to up and down Takanori’s spine when he thought Takanori to be asleep at 4AM, pressed into his chest saved from finding his end from his precarious placement near the edge of their bed. He was the carelessly left behind wet towels after a too-hot bath on the carpet that drove Takanori up a wall and barely concealed morose with a touch of a far away small smile every time he overheard Takanori over the phone talking with his mother.
Kouyou danced on the fine line of truth and lie like he was born for it and kept him on his toes. He was a case all on his own Takanori wasn’t sure he’d ever be able to crack no matter how hard he tried, but as Kouyou lured him into slow dancing in the middle of their living room with only Kouyou’s low, distracted singing in English – honey, saccharine and rich with just a hint of an accent slipping in here and there – huskily murmured in his ear the only music they had to keep a tempo, Takanori decided maybe, just maybe, he wouldn’t mind trying.
“My funny valentine…
Sweet, comic valentine…
You make me smile with my heart.
Your looks are laughable, unphotographable,”
Takanori’s head turned. Their noses brushed soft and easy and his jaw slicked in surprised awe, something warm in his stomach as Kouyou brushed the faintest kiss across his lips with the tiniest smile.
“Yet you’re my favorite work of art.”
Maybe. Maybe.  
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