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bomberqueen17 · 6 years

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Cosmic Resonance

So I was driving home last night and I came up behind this white Toyota Corolla with a giant antenna sticking out the trunk. I noticed the license plate was one of those vanity plates with a picture of an antenna on it. There was also a white vinyl decal of lettering covering the entire upper portion of the rear windshield.

Like, huge vinyl letters. I got close enough at the red light to read it. “The Hangman’s Beautiful Daughter.”

What. OK. Well, it was a long light, so I Googled it.

It’s a musical album. OK. Sure. At that very moment, the album i’d been listening to was ending (the new Fu Manchu, I kind of dug it, but I wasn’t going to just repeat it), so I was like, serendipity. So (did I mention this was a really fucking long red light) I typed it in.

The Incredible String Band. 1968. Scottish psychedelic folk.

I was like, this is super great. This is like, cosmic waves, man. It’s a divine suggestion. I’m going to love this album and it’s going To Speak Deeply to me and like, change my life. Or at least inspire me in some cosmic way.

I mean, it must be real compelling, right? If this ham radio enthusiast had it in like four-inch vinyl letters on his rear windshield?

... You might see where this is going, which I in my suggestible state did not. Now, if you are a Scottish psychedelic folk enthusiast, or a ham radio enthusiast, or a Toyota Corolla enthusiast, or any combination thereof, this is not a dig at you. But. You do, in fact, have very different tastes than I do.

This album was so annoying. I haven’t even made it quite all the way through, I’m really determined to find some kind of meaning in this, or message, or guidance, or whatever, so I’m gonna listen to the whole thing. But.

It’s a sort of nasal droning thin-white-guy vocalist who is often flat, muttering repetitive and sometimes twee statements over randomly fluttering tin whistles whose grace notes go nowhere in particular, and like, harpsichords and shit, I wasn’t ready for that. Although I don’t know what I expected from the words “psychedelic” + “folk”.

It’s peripheral to my jam (honestly? I love folk music) but it very much is not my jam. And so far there’s been no coherent narrative of any kind, let alone any mention of any hangman or his beautiful daughter, which for real is what I was hoping for. (Come on give me a ballad about the hangman’s beautiful daughter and the rad goth shit she’d get up to!)

No. Wikipedia says, “Regarding the title, Mike Heron said at the time: "The hangman is death and the beautiful daughter is what comes after. Or you might say that the hangman is the past twenty years of our life and the beautiful daughter is now, what we are able to do after all these years. Or you can make up your own meaning – your interpretation is probably just as good as ours."”

Oh come on you lazy drug-addled pseudointellectual wanker.

I guess they influenced Led Zeppelin. Which, I guess, if you were looking for a reason to dismiss me entirely, is mostly not to my tastes either, so.

Here, I’m handing this on. Maybe this message was meant for someone else. Take this and go and be inspired by this, uh, whatever this is. I’m going to go through the Related Albums section after the new Fu Manchu release and try to find some meaning there instead. Not that I trust Google Play’s algorithm, they’re kind of shit.

(You’d think, on the surface, psychedelic folk and stoner rock would have something in common, but in my experience they absolutely do not. Stoner metal has a groove, OK, and they adhere to the groove, they don’t twiddle off and leave you hanging and then randomly clap their hands and start playing an Exotic Instrument they’ve just now appropriated from a culture they’ve done only enough research on to get high to.)

#music #cosmic inspiration #my deskmate loves psychedelic music #i really do not #i don't know why i always think i'll like it #i don't #i don't like Message Art but I also don't like art where the artist is like Oh I Dunno Find Your Own Meaning #like i get that but do some introspection buddy #it just gives me Mediocre White Man feels all the way down #especially this album where one of the really long songs has a cover of a bahamian spiritual in it #and he uses the original singers' accents and i'm like oh fuck off white man!!!!!#i just can't appreciate the free spirit and hope of that era #i've never had a ton of patience for the 60s #in 1968 my dad was getting shot at in vietnam and i have known that my whole life #and that has colored my awareness of what was going on in that period of history my whole life #i never believed in the free love bullshit i always figured someone was getting the short end of that #so when my professors were nostalgic and my classmates were starry-eyed i was always like bitch please #the idyll was a lie and i always felt like it was #so this shit just doesn't work for me #i guess i was supposed to introspect #that's what i'm feeling moved to do #by all this #so ok #this was supposed to be funny though #so do me a favor and laugh

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smndragon · 3 years

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TRYING TO EXPLAIN THE WAY I SEE AURAS DURING MY READINGS AND OFF THEM: (best read in white mode sorry)

Featuring my fast and quick art work lol the people I used from bases on medibang offered by the app transferred to ibis cause I'm broke lol.

When doing my readings I often see the aura colors surrounding the zodiacs or people of interest. When I have someone in my mind even briefly nits easy to get an aura color. Like discussed before posting this, the way I take them on are probably different than commonly known with just one, two, or three colors more.

Auras can seem either larger or smaller and fainter depending on which one I clearest see in my mind. If I had a girl Infront of me clear that I felt resonated with me in a way her aura would be as bright as ever. Right now her aura is a bright yellow with flakes of whites and golds. When I see stronger ahead it does not have to do with strength in certain areas of talents and gifts. They just categorize as people I can clearly see or people that I most notice.

Idk why I felt putting this here it doesn't matter much lol.

The most common ones I see are mixed colors mushed together and sun flag like ones. When it comes to zodiacs. constellations like the starry ones can be seen around them much easier and commonly to me. At first I only saw that kind when in early reading phases. Keep in mind all used here and after are ones I've seen. Meaning there could be more I have yet to. People often use the sun flag auras while and mixed ones.

The striped one is something that I don't see as much but does happen. It's always usually shown strong and brighter than the rest. Both people and zodiacs can have them.

The colors on the auras here don't mean that's the only kind of coloring it's just what was provided for reference here.

That's honestly all idk what else to put uh💀🧍🏽‍♀️🧍🏽‍♀️🧍🏽‍♀️

Mediocre ik😭

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efyra · 3 years

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pairing: remus lupin x reader

summary: the first time that remus almost lost his control

author’s note: i swear that i didn’t pretend to make two parts for this story but it just happened; i couldn’t help myself. i’m sorry 🥺 and I also am sorry for any grammar mistakes - like i said before, english is not my native language

1994, Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry

Honestly, you never thought that would be so sensitive about your last year at Hogwarts. You didn't think you would miss walking those halls, dining under the starry sky of the Great Hall, the Quidditch games that cheered up the students of all Houses, resting on that tree next to the Black Lake or the magnificent view from the Astronomy Tower. All these little things that never meant much to you before, made your seventh year more melancholic than you imagined it would be - you couldn’t even think about no longer seeing your friends every day without starting to cry.

In a few months, you would be a graduated girl; an adult woman who would be entirely responsible for your own future. Technically, you would be free. Free to pursue any career you want; you could become a healer, a teacher, a magizoologist, or even an auror, and you would have a happy and prosperous life. Or you could just screw yourself up.

The uncertainty made you apprehensive.

Ever since you were born, everyone told you what to do, be it your parents or your teachers; how did they expect you to make a decision as big as "the future of your life" being so young? You were only 18, for Merlin's sake!

Why did you stay only seven years at Hogwarts? If you could, you would continue studying there until you were 25 years-old.

But, unfortunately, that was not possible.

What made you feel a little better was to think that your colleagues were as apprehensive as you were about venturing into the adult world.

Since the school year has began, seventh graders threw a "farewell party" every month and overdosed on firewhisky. You have witnessed a diversity of drunken behavior during these parties; there would always be someone crying because they would miss Hogwarts, others despairing because they didn't know what the fuck they were going to do with their lives, some pompously saying that they already knew exactly where they would work after graduation, there would also be those who would make brave confessions, act recklessly or end up sleeping on a couch.

You weren't a very party person; not that you were those people who didn't even attend the party, but you never crossed your limit, let alone did something to embarrass yourself. Of course, you've taken doses of firewhisky before, but you never got drunk.

Until that night.

Earlier that day, you got a letter from your parents telling that they expected you to become an auror just like them; that gave you stomach pain all day long. You had already thought about following the same career as your parents - who were phenomenal in their job - but you weren't sure if that was what you want for your future.

You were a simple girl. You were never very extroverted, but you made good friends during your years at Hogwarts. You were a great student, not extraordinary nor mediocre. You never drew much attention, and frankly, you never wanted that - in fact, you hated being in the spotlight. For some weird reason, you become very clumsy at those times.

So you never really considered becoming an auror. And because of that letter from your parents, you forgot to control how much firewhisky you were consuming.

And, for the first time in your life, you were officially drunk.

"Ok, I'm hungry" you declared to your friend; your voice tone was louder than usual and your words came out a little shuffled.

Y/F/N faced you with some fun in her eyes; it was unusual to see you like that.

"Right. Let's go to the kitchens, then"

You frowned in confusion.

"How do we get in there?"

"Just tickle the pear" she shrugged "easy peasy". A giggle came out of her lips. "What?" Y/F/N raised an eyebrow.

"You said pee-asy" you answered, giggling one more time.

Your friend shook her head.

"You're very drunk," she said with fun. "Let's give you some food and water and put you on bed.

"Oh, but I don't want to go to bed" you made a pout.

"Well, we're going anyway," Y/F/N said firmly; she knew you wouldn't want to wake up on some random couch. "I'll tell Riley we're going and be right back. Don't go anywhere.”

If you were sober, you would never consider invading Hogwarts' kitchens in the middle of the night, and you wouldn't have escaped from your friend after she told you to wait for her, but, obviously, you weren't even a little sober.

Walking through the dark and empty corridors was already an unknown experience for you, but walking through them being so drunk seemed like an adventure. You had no idea where you were going - even though you knew you wanted to get to the kitchens.

Then an intense light blinded you for a second.

"Miss Y/L/N?" the familiar voice of your Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher took you by surprise.

Your eyes widened and you stumbled in your footsteps.

"Professor Hottie!" exclaimed automatically as soon as Remus fucking Lupin appeared in your front, seeming very intrigued to find you in the middle of the hall. "I mean... Professor Hottie!" you paused for a short second; looking sideways and not noticing the amused little smile that appeared on the older man's face. "Wait I said it again... Professor Lupin! Now I did it" you smiled and turned your head to face your teacher.

Then you saw.

That damn look. The look full of savagery that made your knees weak and the air escape from your lungs.

Your teacher slowly approached you; he calculated his steps so he won’t scare you - and honestly, he needed to control himself to not kiss you right there.

Remus Lupin looked like a wolf hunting his prey - and you looked delicious in his eyes.

"Miss Y/L/N..." he kept walking towards you, causing you to automatically take a few steps back, getting close to the wall. "What a little girl like you is doing in the hallway off hours?"

The words got stuck in your throat.

"I-I-I... Ah... I..."

Then he smelled it. He smelled the firewhisky on your breath.

A surprised moan came out of your lips when Professor Lupin pushed you against the wall, pressing his body on yours; his 6'2" height rising dangerously over yours much shorter.

"Were you drinking?" his tone was not as gentle as usual; it was rough and demanding. His question came out almost like a growl.

You gulped.

Your heart beat wildly and you never felt so hot like that before; you wondered if you could burst into flames just with that interaction.

"No!" you lied.

"Y/N..." was the first time Remus said your name; you loved how your name sounded in his voice. "I think you're lying to me," he whispered close to your ear.

You felt shiver over your spine.

"Professor, I-I... I don't..."

"I, I" he repeated in a mocking tone, appreciating how nervous you looked before facing you intensely again. "Don't lie to me again. You won't like what I'm going to do to you if you lie to me again.”

You gasp with your words, and to your embarrassment, a pathetic moan came out of your throat.

Remus growled; he clenched his hands firmly, trying to control himself to not fuck you right there in the hallway - his cock already hard inside his pants.

"Or maybe you would like it" he thought to himself.

But at the same time your groaning excited him, it also awakened him from his trance. Remus remembered who he was; he was your professor and you were his student. He couldn't do anything with you.

He took a step away from you, reluctantly; taking the time to admire how delicious you looked with your breath intertwined, your cheeks blushed and so submissive.

You were disappointed when you could no longer feel his warm body against yours, but you stopped yourself from saying anything. Honestly, you had no idea what had just happened between you and your Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher; it seemed wrong and it certainly was forbidden, but you couldn't help but want more.

"You will go back to your dorm. No more firewhisky for you, do you understand, Miss Y/L/N?" he asked, looking at her intensely.

"Y-Yes" you stuttered nervously.

"Yes, what?" he growled.

"Yes, Professor Lupin" you corrected yourself quickly.

A smile appeared on the man's face full of scars.

"Good girl" he couldn't prevent those words from coming out of his mouth. "Now, go" he said authoritarian.

You nodded before heading back to the party; the drunkenness seemed to have left your body completely and you almost felt sober.

Almost.

Your little interaction with Remus fucking Lupin still made you feel a little dizzy.

Y/F/N found you halfway through, she guided you to your common room and brought you to your dorm.

That night, you slept quickly because even though Professor Lupin had taken you out of your drunk state, you still had a good dose of firewhisky.

Unlike you, Remus Lupin could not get a good night of sleep.

He thought about you all night long; the way you seemed to submit yourself completely to him without any hesitation, how small and fragile you seemed and how easy it would be for him to throw you on bed or any other surface he could fuck you into oblivion, the way you pressed your thighs together when he approached you - you didn't notice it, but he did.

Remus thought that, maybe, having you wasn't something so surreal; that, maybe, you wanted it too. But he remembered the firewhisky smell on your breath.

He knew he should never have done what he did.

He should have controlled himself.

The next day, he waited for Dumbledore to tell him that he was fired, but that never happened. He waited a week, two weeks, three weeks, more than a month passed and absolutely nothing happened.

Remus didn't know if he should be relieved or if he should feel like the worst man in the world; you had completely forgotten what had happened that night.

Or that's what he thought.

In fact, you remembered every minute of yours little interaction in the hall.

You remembered the way he looked at you ferociously, his predatory walk, you remembered perfectly the growl that came out of his throat, his body against yours, his chocolate and parchment paper perfume, and you, definitely, could never forget how dominant and controlling he acted - and how your body surrender to that behavior; how you liked it.

"You won't like what will happen to you if you lie to me again", it was his words, and Merlin, you had the most absolute certainty that you would love anything he did to you. And you would still beg for more.

You waited for Professor Lupin to come to you, but he never did. You waited more than a month and nothing happened.

It was as if that night had never happened.

Of course, you felt disappointed - very disappointed - but it was your last year at Hogwarts. Your last year walking through those halls, having dinner under the starry sky of the Great Hall, cheering for your house team at Quidditch, resting on that tree next to the Black Lake and enjoying the view from the Astronomy Tower, and you wouldn't waste it lamenting for your Dark Arts Defense teacher.

You graduated. And you thought you would never see him again.

But fate had other plans for you two because in that summer of 1995, you met at Grimmauld Place, number 12.

It didn't seem wrong anymore and it wasn't forbidden, so you promised yourself:

You were going to find out what Remus Lupin was hiding.

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saturnsocoolioyep · 2 years

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Genuinely gonna cry about Vincent Van Gogh. I'm not an art history student by any means but from everything I've ever learned about him I know that I know him. I know him and he knows me. I know that years and years and billions of inventions and advancements apart we are not so different because we feel the same sadness. We feel the same ache. We are both human, irreparably, irreplaceably so, and no amount of supposed "brokenness" can ever change that about either of us. Vincent and I are not tortured artists, only capable of making anything truly great because of how we've suffered. Pain is not the fuel for greatness for either of us. And I know that I'll probably never paint Sunflowers or Starry Night, but I like to think that maybe, maybe I'll be okay enough to make something that I think is mediocre. And maybe someday that mediocre thing will be in some distant relative's living room. Or maybe, just maybe, it'll be in a museum. And just maybe, someday, someone else will feel like I know them too.

Anyway.

I know it's late, but... happy birthday, Vincent.

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starry-bi-sky · 3 months

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How i envisioned Danny's ghost form/Phantom in my Danyal Al Ghul au (images at bottom of post). His ghost form has some pr heavy influence from the League, because I thought it'd be neat + to kinda show how even after four years, the League still had some kind of impact on who is he as a person. Plus some milder Robin influence in his boots and the cape (which i meant to be split down the middle to have some kind of 'bird wing' silhouette) as a way to indicate his lingering desire to meet his dad.

The pauldron lookin-thing on his upper chest is based off certain Danny Phantom designs I see that give him that white,,, marking,,, thing. I've been calling it the Jedi Chestplate because it reminds me of the clone wars Jedi armor. So like, slight homage to his hazmat suit.

(not pictured: his thermos and his sword)

behold! the judgmental lil shit (affectionate) himself

#dpxdc #dp x dc #dpxdc art #mediocre starry art #dpdc #danyal al ghul au #danny fenton is not the ghost king #older brother danny #i thought about giving him a mask but felt it would make him look too busy #i originally made his scar larger but then i remembered he got that scar when he was five. and thus the scar would have shrunk over time #prolly could've been smaller but. oh well :)#the lack of fenton influence isn't intentional i promise its just that i couldn't combine all three things at once without risk of making #the outfit look overly busy LMAO. ignore his hands they're my weakpoint #'judgmental lil shit' quote goes to the-navistar-carol for being the first thing she said when i showed her the fanart #fun fact the tail of the lightning bolt going behind the P is supposed to be a mockup of the tail of the Robin “R” which is another subtle #indicator of Danny's desire to be part of his father's life and not having it. he's never gonna be robin and he knows it but that doesnt #mean some part of him doesnt still want to. ugh the pants look awful but i dont want to spend any more time than i already have fixing them #because. drawing on mobile suckkkkksssss. starry draw danny with short hair challenge: task denied

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lostsoulstravelhere · 7 years

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Self portrait Acrylic on canvas panel

#self portrait #painting #painted portrait #portrait painting #acrylic #starry night #van gogh #mediocre #it's me #my face kinda #arting #artists on tumblr #female artists #biracial #mixed girl #alexis does art

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achapnamedtom · 3 years

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@slutteryingreen tagged me for an interview! I am so blessed

1. Do you prefer writing with a black pen or blue pen? Blue

2. Would you prefer to live in the country or city? I was born in the city, grew up in the country and moved back when I was a student. Pretty walks and starry nights aside I hated living in the country and still resent going back there. There’s hardly anything to do, nobody around and the few there are mostly nosy, paranoid, miserable, simple-minded old bigots who glare at you if you so much as walk past their house. Still beats living in the suburbs though I guess. Give me lights and people any day.

3. If you could learn a new skill what would it be? I’d love to be able to express myself creatively but I’m so crap at anything that requires technique :( I should write more but I never have the inspiration

4. Do you drink your tea/coffee with sugar? Tea no sugar :)

5. What was your favourite book as a child? Hairy Maclary - what a legend

6. Do you prefer baths or showers? Baths are nice but require a lot of effort lol - love a good shower

7. If you could be a mythical creature, which one would it be? MERMAID/MERMAN/MER-being

8. Paper or electronic books? Never owned an e-reader so don’t know

9. What is your favourite item of clothing? Much as I love my knitwear a nothing beats a good jacket

10. Do you like your name or would you like to change it? Tom seems to suit me, though it’s a bit annoying how common it is. I could be Alex if I wanted which is good too.

11. Who is a mentor to you? Ooo very tough, I feel like I pick up little bits and pieces from everyone I love. I think my school photography teacher was the first adult (parents aside) who really taught me anything about the world beyond the school syllabus - he had a passion for art and music and culture but always as something that anyone could make and understand. He died the year after I left and I find myself thinking about him a lot.

12. Would you like to be famous and if so, what for? I don’t think being famous looks much fun but I’ve always had this nagging feeling that I’m mediocre - so part of me would love to be recognised for something worthwhile. I always think being a one-hit-wonder looks nice in that you get to be the center of attention for 5 mins but within a few years can go for a pint without being asked for an autograph.

13. Are you a restless sleeper? Terrible at getting off to sleep but usually sleep quite well once I’m out. I heard the other day that lonley people tend to have more trouble sleeping (b/c you feel more alert) and I think that’s true for me because when I had housemates it was less of a problem.

14. Do you consider yourself a romantic person? There are different types of ‘romantic’ but the answer YES for all of them. My favorite idea of what romance is is that it’s the opposite of cynicism - the belief in the beauty and value of ideals.

15. Which element best represents you? Earth

16. Who do you want to be closer to? All of my friends who live so far away

17. Do you miss someone at the moment? Yeah all of my friends who live so far away lol

18. Tell us about an early childhood memory: I remember walking up the steps coming out of school and mum telling me how excited she was because it was Friday and that meant we could all have lots of fun over the weekend :)

19. What is the strangest thing you have eaten? A moth, by accident

20. What are you most thankful for? My health, mental and physical. And the love of those around me.

21. Do you like spicy food? Yes but it does unspeakable things to my insides

22. Have you ever met someone famous? Not really

23. Do you do you keep a diary or journal? No I’d be terrible at keeping it up to date.

24. Do you prefer to use a pen or a pencil? Pen

25. What is your star sign? Fish

26. Do you like your cereal soggy or crunchy? The sweet spot in the middle

27. What would you want your legacy to be? A thousand tiny moments for others to cherish

28. Do you like reading, what was the last book you read? Aaah now this is a bit of a sticky one for me because of my dyslexia I had a horrible relationship with reading growing up and still do. I am however glacially working my way through Bring The Noise by Simon Rynolds which is a collection of mostly Melody Maker articles from the mid 80s to the 2000s. it’s a interesting old read, I really wish we still had a music press in this country I love all of that.

29. How do you show someone you love them? Get all soppy and tell them in no uncertain terms but often I worry it’ll be embarrassing for them so I don’t

30. Do you like ice in your drinks? Honestly is there anything better than the sound of an ice cube cracking as your pour in the whiskey.

31. What are you afraid of? Being lonely and alone for the rest of my life. Conflict. Climate Change. Oh and one about my family that’s a bit too personal even for tumblr (nothing exciting you’re not missing out)

32. What is your favorite scent? Lavender

33. Do you address older people by their name or surname? I haven't addressed anyone by their surname since school that would be weird

34. If money was not a factor, how would you live your life? Endlessly finding new things to pursue and spending time with people that I love.

35. Do you prefer swimming in pools or the ocean.? The ocean is prettier but also dogs piss in there so lets call it a draw.

36. What would you do if you found £50 on the ground? Not sure but whatever I did I’d worry about it the rest of the day

37. Have you ever seen a shooting star? YES loads of times ❤️ me and my mum used to stand outside in the garden whenever there was a shooting stars around. The weird thing about them is they don’t make any noise, like obviously they don’t but you still sort of expect that hear something for some reason. In way the silence makes them more magical, like snowfall or a sunset.

38. What is the one thing you would want to teach your children? To really live by the concept “I am better than no one and no one is better than me”.

39. If you had to have a tattoo, what would it be and where would you get it? Either something Brighton-ey (maybe the pavilion or the west pier) or birds flying.

40. What can you hear now? My cat Molly creaking about on the top of the fridge

41. Where do you feel the safest? In a big coat

42. What is the one thing you want to overcome/conquer? The perils of finding people

43. If you could travel back to any era, what would it be? Hmmm aesthetically the 1970s but it was a bit grim so maybe the 90s.

44. What is your most used emoji? ❤️

45. Describe yourself using one word Trying

46. What do you regret the most? Being too anxious/self-loathing/fat as a teenager to enjoy any of it.

47. Last movie you saw? A Perfect Storm, watched it during a video call with my mate Ed whom I have seen many, many disaster movies with.

48. Last tv show you watched? Match of the Day

49. Invent a word and it’s meaning. Sun-dip - That feeling of dread you get on a Sunday evening when it hits you that its back to school/work tomorrow. Associated with Antiques Roadshow, Countryfile and Heartbeat being on TV.

Well done to anyone who read all of this lol. I seriously encourage all mutuals to do this b/c I love you all, but also this took me ages to do so I don’t want to put any pressure on by tagging xx

#asks #@slutteryingreen

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moonamite · 3 years

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Chapter 5

After a while of being dragged by Scarlet, they reached the art gallery. “See? Doesn’t this place just radiate inspiration? Let’s go in!” She chirped as she bounced eagerly into the building. I don’t understand how anyone could be so happy in such grim conditions. “Artists from all over flock here to show their art to the world. Artists such as myself!” She said proudly. She walked them through the maze-like halls. Meta Knight noticed how most of the works were abstract. “I take it the people favor this particular type of art?” he said, nodding his head at the pieces that covered the walls. “Yep! Can you blame them? It’s such a free art style. Colors mix and weave together so naturally! So many emotions can be expressed through color alone.” She sighed happily, with a starry-eyed look on her face. “Would you mind explaining?” Meta Knight asked. “Sorry, i’m no artist.” Scarlet suddenly stopped and looked at certain piece of art. On closer inspection, Meta Knight saw her neat signature on the bottom. “Well...” She started. “I tend to associate colors and emotions. Like...” She trailed off. “Crimson is Violence, Mossy Green is perspective, and Icy blue is intelligence... Get it?” Before he could say anything, she sighed and looked back up at her craft. “I know, it’s weird. I’m weird. Nobody sees things the way I do and it can be so frustrating! I feel like a Beetle in a field of butterflies!” She growled in frustration. “It’s fine, though. I don’t want anyone like me, anyways. Because then I wouldn’t be unique!” She said, going back to her usual happy tone. “Though I wish the amount of people who like my art wasn’t so mediocre.” She suddenly something seemed to catch her attention. “What is it?” Meta Knight asked. She shrugged. “Looks like there’s a crack in the wall.” She went tapped the cracked tile, and it fell out of it’s place. Scarlet yelped and jumped back. “Look!” Kirby said suddenly. “Something fell out with the tile!” He walked over and picked up what appeared to be a piece of paper. He gingerly unfolded it. “Midnight... Mount C.... 3.” He said slowly with a puzzled look. “Is that... A secret message of some kind?” Meta Knight looked around frantically. Thank the stars it was mostly just the 3 of them visiting. Meta Knight picked up the fallen tile and put it back into it’s slot. We can’t take any chances of being found. “Oooo.” Scarlet said quietly. “A secret! Near my painting! Do you think it’s for me?” “Whoever it’s for, I think the writer wants to meet up somewhere at midnight.” Meta Knight said cautiously. Maybe it’s a trap. Maybe it’s a trap to catch nosy people- like us. “Midnight isn’t very far from now. It’s was sunset when we entered.” Scarlet murmured. “Maybe we shouldn’t get involved in this.” Kirby said worriedly. Meta knight couldn’t blame him for being wary. “Aren’t we already on a mission?” Scarlet suddenly got up. “Well i’m going! I think it was by my work for a reason! Maybe it’s my fate!” And then She rushed away. Kirby suddenly looked concerned. “We should go with her. Just in case.”

#meta knight #kirby #kirby fic

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birdwonder · 4 years

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Hello lovely! Your writing sure leaves me all fuzzy and warm, it is just so wholesome! Note aside may I please request a scenario with Rohan (seeing as he is your pfp) and an artist s/o, but they are body painting eachother? I feel like he will enjoy painting on skin for it is very different from cloth or paper, thank you and have a good day!

|| wow, an artist s/o sure seems popular! this is my third request for one and i’m living for it. thank you so much for the praise, i can only hope that this fic and any future ones will make you feel the same ! also, Rohan is one of my favourites and i assumed the most creative jjba character would be a good ‘mascot’ for this account.

tw: body painting is typically nude, so underwear will be worn and the reader’s gender will be ambiguous, but they have a bare chest. so like ... small, nonsexual nudity ?

Rohan Kishibe | Body Painting

Rohan was not a man of intimate affection. At least, not to the degree of a tooth rotting man who waits on hand a knee for whatever their beloved may desire.

His gentle kisses on your lips and temple were short and quick in public, contrasting to how drawn out and occasionally desperate they could be in the comfort of his home. It warmed your heart like a fire place soothed someone coming in from the snow and you returned each display of affection in kind to respect his boundaries.

Reminding you that you were both his muse and the love of his life was always a top priority when he wasn’t working himself to the bone in his home studio, something you worried about but you knew pestering him about how he cared for himself would only further his stress more. You were like a deity to him, his source of inspiration for when he had nothing.

From the strands of your head to your lips’ unique shape and feel against his own, Rohan appreciated and doted on every detail your face had to offer.

Your body was no different to him as well. The form, the feel, each individual spot, scar or mark was so mesmerising. He couldn’t get enough every time he looked at you, whether you were doing a mediocre house hold chore, or trying to allure him with a sway of your hips, captivating him like a moth drawn to a flame.

With all his high praise for you, it was no surprise that the suggestion for body painting came up.

One thing that brought the two of you together was your mutual interest in art, including painting. Therefore, when he approached you with skin friendly paint and new brushes, suggesting it as your next date, you happily complied.

You could be the most modest, self-conscious person there was in the wonder but with Rohan, showing skin was never an issue because each time he saw you, a string of compliments wrapped around you and pulled you closer to him. So, when it came to stripping yourself of every piece of clothing you had aside from your underwear, you had no qualms and felt no pressure.

After a short session of setting up a large sheet across the floor, both you and Rohan stood in the middle of the room in almost nothing. “Would you like to go first?” You prompted, a hand brushing up and down your goosebump covered arm from the chilled air.

“Gladly,” the man replied, unabashedly stepping forwards, his pale and surprisingly nicely toned chest in your line of sight until you looked into his eyes. Despite his terse words, you knew that he felt nothing but excitement.

He laid you down across the sheet, dead in the centre, and placed a leg on either side of your stomach, straddling your hips almost if not for his slight hovering over you. A smile ghosted onto his face as he took hold of a clean paint brush beside your head, bending down to kiss your cheek. With the silk like hairs of the brush, he swiped it gently over the other side of your face making you stifle a small laugh.

The temptation to chortle only worsened however when his chaste, gentle kisses tracked down your neck to your chest, the brush still following in his affections’ shadow which sent a track of shivers down your back. “Stay still and silent, cher, I am only getting you ready for when I start painting so you don’t move about and ruin it,” Rohan calmly instructed, not moving his head from the valley of your chest before moving down to your stomach, above your abdomen.

From there, you had managed to bite your lip and maintain half of a poker face, your loving and enamoured eyes that were following your lover ruining half of the façade.

If this was any other day, Rohan would have disregarded the paints surrounding the both of you and kiss you with such chasmic fervour that your night would seem endless and pure bliss, but for today there was one thing meant to be on his mind and it was to turn your temple of a body into a filled canvas.

His hands placed themselves upon your shoulders, thumbs pressing softly under your arm, and traced down to prompt you to extend and expose your arms outwards. “I’ll start now, so just lay back and relax. I’ll only work on your torso and arms, if anything feels wrong just tell me.”

The air you blew from your nose was a sign that you wanted to laugh a little. As cold and distant as Rohan seemed to others, he was nothing but kind and gentle with you. If you could awe at him, you would if it didn’t mean he would then whack you with some paint.

Closing your eyes and laying your head back, you listened to the sound of a brush clinking against the rim of a glass cup, presumably to wet it, and then moving against a palette. Next, you felt the thankfully not so cold tip of a brush spread paint across your chest, the movements of it seemingly side to side and clockwise circles.

Once more, you nibbled on your lower lip to prevent any jolting and laughter, fingers scrapping the sheet beneath you to contain yourself. A small hum from Rohan gave the idea that he appreciated your efforts, the familiar, mellifluous sound of a brush being cleaned resonating suddenly.

You sighed softly as he did his thing. What could you paint on him when it was your turn? A portrait of a person would seem a little peculiar, although it would work well in an abstract sort of way. A landscape would do well too, something like a sunset perhaps? The purple of the gradient would compliment his hair well, and you could incorporate some other colours and shapes possibly to bring out the emerald hues he looked at you so tenderly with.

For a while, the routine of paint being suffused across your upper arms and torso continued with the occasional pause for Rohan to take a look at you or to pick up more paint. It was strangely therapeutic for both you and Rohan, who was taking great care in what he was doing, making sure that his didn’t accidentally pressing against wet paint or have it too watery to run down.

“Hm, just a bit more,” he told you, “you will have to lay down for a while so it can dry.”

Understandable, really. It’d be a shame to ruin something so bold and adventurous due to premature standing up.

Once the feeling of paint had stopped, you both stayed in pleasant silence for the wet feeling on your skin to subside and harden. Well, it was silent until Rohan bent down a little to blow onto the paint, causing you to suddenly giggle.

In a second, he slapped a hand over your mouth and tutted, using his other hand to guide the more dried side of your stomach down as your back had arched slightly from your laughter.

“Sorry,” a meek squeak muffled from his hand, something Rohan chuckled at. After ten minutes, that felt like hours, you had the “ok” to open your eyes.

The two of you sat up, Rohan on his knees in between your legs, and stared into each other’s eyes. Without bothering to see what he had painted, you wrapped an arm around his neck and brought him in for a kiss, finally allowing yourself to freely smile and laugh. “That was so much fun! It felt so funny!”

“I can imagine, it was just as nice to paint on you, it is a shame I had to cover you up but you make for a lovely canvas, my love,” the manga artist hummed, feeling more at ease than he had all week after powering through a large amount of new panels to publish.

“Oh hush,” you shushed, finally getting up onto your feet and glancing into a mirror to see what he had done.

“Rohan, this is amazing!” To your surprise, a magnificent starry sky had been spread across your body, a mix of colours similar to Vincent Van Gogh’s ‘Starry Night’ covering you with amazing detail. From your shoulders and chest, there was primarily black and deep blue that faded down to lighter shades of blue, yellow and white stars of all varying shapes and sizes sprinkled across you. Even silhouettes of structures were added, and if you squinted hard enough you saw two minuscule figures close together.

When you turned to face Rohan to directly appraise his work, you saw that he was holding a camera and began to take a few shots of you. At first, you felt sheepish until you remembered that this was Rohan and it wasn’t like anyone else would see the photos; over his dead body they would.

You struck a few poses, even sprawling across the ground again for a clear view. With a clear gratitude, he helped you back up and kissed your forehead. “Wonderful, absolutely magnificent,” he muttered into your hair.

“Not too bad yourself, honey,” you teased, moving back to bend down and pick up a paint brush that you dragged from his cheek all the way down to the hem of his boxers. “Now, I think it’s my turn, wouldn’t you say?”

#rohan kishibe #rohan x reader #x reader #jjba x reader #request #jjba

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royaltealovingkookiness · 5 years

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You should write an au with Azula as the older sibling instead of Zuko. I've read a fic like that yesterday and I loved it but I'd love to see your take on it.

It would change a lot. Azula as the talented, older sibling would come in line for the throne before Zuko - and it would take out a lot of the canon tension. I don’t think Zuko would ever question that - he’d just see his older sister as this amazing person who can do so much.

Azula would quickly figure out how to manipulate her little starry-eyed minion brother and would play the caring older sister for Mother (she loves that stuff). She’d become very good at this particular lie.

When Ozai is ordered to kill his firstborn, Ursa would make the same sacrifice for Azula. I think she’d wake her up in the middle of the night and tell her to take care of her little brother.

Zuko would be generally a more relaxed person in this scenario. He was never better than Azula in anything, but it’s ok, because he’s the young one. Father is still not impressed with his mediocre bending, but it’s less of a deal and Zuko has learnt to make himself invisible in Father’s presence. Plus Azula would buffer him from Ozai’s derision and anger somewhat by repeatedly pointing out that even if Zuko’s not that brilliant, one day his loyalty and obedience would make him a useful pawn. Because Zuko’s not so much in the focus of attention, he can spend more time with the stuff he likes, like swords, arts or music. He has no destiny to fulfill, so he’d be more free to be his goofy self (obviously, he’d still have tutors and classes, and work dutifully at it, but it’s not like he’s Crown Prince).

He’d have no reason to shout his way into the war room, and no banishment to give him a fresh look at the world. He’d still spend time with Uncle after his return, but Iroh’s proverbs would go right over his head. So he’d be less trauma-fuelled-angry and more gentle and naive when he’s sent on his first assignment out to the world. There would be a harsh clash between the lies he’s been taught and the reality. (Especially things people say about his sister’s ruthlessness - they obviously don’t know what they are talking about. Azula is kind and caring).

Azula would also be more protective of Zuko in general - she’s lived the lie for so long that it’s become her reality in a way. So when things come down to the line and she has to choose between power and Zuko, much to her shock the choice is not at all self-evident.

I’m not really planning to write anything with this set-up, but I saw @muffinlance has something cooking with big sis Azula and I’m excited to see that story.

#atla #fire siblings #azula is older au

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