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stoukadraws · 10 months

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Happy 3rd Anniversary Chromatale, and Goodnight.

So its about time I say this: I won't be making any content about this AU anymore, so that unfortunately puts it into the discontinued undertale comics category xd

I just really lost the spark I had 2 years ago when making it, so the "little hiatus" that I thought was only going to be a few months turned into more than a year.

I'm sorry to those who were waiting and wanted to see more, but there is another reason why I'm doing this-

It's not gonna be an AU anymore, it's going to be an original story.

I really thought about it for a while and I decided that making it into an original story would give me more creative freedom and I wouldn't have to always stick to one storyline, I wanted to expand the world more as well as the characters, but since its all based on a game with a pretty much solid story, it was hard for me to insert some things that would be out of place or wouldn't make sense.

So, I hope you understand, this AU was truly a learning experience for both my art and my writing since I made it when I was really young and not very experienced, but I'm glad I was able to improve along the way.

Thank you for supporting this AU since the beginning and stuck around!

I plan to make more works surrounding this new story later on, so I look forward to it! And I hope some of you are excited for what's to come. (*^▽^*)

More in-depth explanation + some questions (near the end) :

This is gonna be a bit long so if you really wanna read this whole thing be prepared xd

This whole thing doesn't mean I'm quitting Undertale altogether, I'm still continuing the Strays Au, and I want that AU to be my main Undertale AU now since I've always intended on making it Undertale related and I'm already satisfied with it right now, so I don't intend on making it original or anything.

When I started Chromatale I was still a kid-ish, and I was at the toilet with my phone and idk how it started but I decided to doodle a Sans on my phone and thought "I can make an Undertale AU!".

And so I did. Chromatale back then was reallyyy different, it was a post-genocide story with Sans and Frisk trying to bring everyone back -yeah real original younger me

There was a comic I did on my phone but now its lost in time unfortunately, it went though like 2 rewrites until I decided to make it a full AU with my own story. And so some brainstorming later and the comic you all know today was made!

Again, I was still new to the whole comic making thing and my writing was pretty sloppy, I'm still surprised it got a lot of attention- I was full of passion and really worked my butt off to make each pages, even with school going on (it was online so it wasn't much of a hassle tho) I was determined to finish it and already had a lot of the comic planned.

That is until I felt a bit worn out, my motivation was getting lower until I could barely produce a page, so that's when I decided to put the comic on hiatus, I initially planned for it to only be a few months but then time went on and I still didn't feel motivated to continue it.

During that time I was just doing my own thing, making some OC art and different stories, making another Undertale AU, going back to school and a shit ton of projects to do- I felt like a little weight was lifted from my back, the comic had turned into labor for me and constantly doing updates wasn't very healthy, since during some updates I had to force myself to finish it.

The story was also changing in the middle of it, I had to rewrite chapter 3 since the first version was literally full of "fanservice" that I only noticed when I re-read the chapter a few months later.

I just wasn't satisfied with it, the story that my younger self had in mind didn't fit what I wanted now since I had grown more mature as time went on, the whole AU really taught me what to do and what not to do.

Initially I actually wanted to reboot Chromatale again and focus more on the concepts and solidifying the plot before engaging in a comic, but after some thinking I thought it would be better to transition it into an original story. I really wanted to expand the story more and again gain more creative freedom than being limited to a pretty much complete-ish story.

I wanted to do what I wanted instead of forcing it to fit with the fandom's liking and preference.

Although its going to be an original story some things will sorta be the same but I won't go into too much detail about it.

I won't promise a comic though, mini comics sure but not anything official. Maybe in the far distant future, but I doubt, I still got a lot of other stories I wanna make into comics >>

Now some things I would like to clarify:

"Now that you're discontinuing Chromatale can it be mine?"

-Unfortunately as much as you want to claim it, no. Chromatale still belongs to me. Even if its going to be original now there's still a lot about it during its UTAU days. I still own it, but I don't want to be heavily associated with it. I'd rather have others focus on the new version than the AU version, and I don't want all my other works to be overshadowed by it. I hope you understand.

"Can I still make fanart?"

-Feel free to still make fanart, I won't restrict anyone from still making any. But I'd still like to see fanart of the new version 👀

"Can I still dub the comic?"

-Sure, make sure to still credit me but please specify to viewers that the comic is now discontinued and its become an original story, I don't wanna give the viewers false hope. If your dubbing for fun then go ahead!

Any dub of the comic that has been published has my permission to still be up in public, I won't force anyone to take it down. But please don't use it for any profiting or income.

Now that's been settled, I'm planning on posting some concepts from the AU that I still have since I don't think I'll use some anymore and now that its ok to show now that I discontinued the comic xd

Again, thank you for following me along this journey! See you in the next post ✨

#undertale #undertale au #chromatale #chroma!tale #frisk #chroma!frisk #eve #digital art #digital illustration #digital painting #my art #stoukaart

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thesunshineriptide · 2 years

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Hi uh I was just wondering, I saw your requests were open and that you’ve written stuff with the ignihyde boys. Can you maybe write them with a gn or male reader who’s an amputee? If not that’s ok :3 I love the stuff I’ve read so thanks in advance if you do write this :3

Hey! I’m super pumped to do this request because first of all, I love the Ignihyde duo and second of all disability and disability aids are absolutely fascinating so I did a lil research becausnejdhgjdjfskhfdjsk cool. Took me a while to figure out what to do though. Also I decided to make the amputation specific to the left arm and left leg for consistencies sake. Also sorry for the delay!!

Ignihyde with an amputee reader

Characters: Idia, Ortho, reader

CW// disability, discussions of prosthetics, amputation, and psychological fallout (implied)

- It would probably take a while before you and Idia become friends. You and Ortho, though? Right off the bat.

- Ortho will happily chatter to you about anything and everything, and often hovers nearby. If he spies you having a hard day with walking, he’ll grab a wheelchair and push you around for a bit while talking about the latest update to Minecraft

- Idia takes a little while longer to warm up (due to being Idia) but soon you’re trapped in Ignihyde playing games with him on the wii

- It’s a loooong while before disability comes up in conversation with him because he is the master of Not Bringing That Subject Up

- He understands the discomfort of being stared at for looking different and doesn’t want to make you feel that, especially since you’re friends

- He does bring it up though - it seems like your current prosthetic leg is beginning to fall apart and, yknow, he has a lot of experience building body parts.

- He ends up spending a lot of time figuring out a lightweight but balanced Material that would work ideally for a prosthetic. This leads from one thing to another and then you’re invited to Ignihyde to try some stuff out

- He hadn’t really concentrated on prosthetics before, surprisingly, since his main goal was making Ortho, but now he’s focusing on how to streamline complex movements, particularly using Electromyography [source] and complex AI that can help predict and measure movements via sensitive receptors under synthetic skin, specifically for disabled/amputee individuals

- This leads to him enlisting your help, since you sparked the interest, and he want to help you out. So: new free prosthetic limbs specifically tailored to you (although with Idia’s creative flair) purely because your friends are literal geniuses

- Other than that, Idia and Ortho are good company. They’re happy to take a slower, more chill pace. Idia enjoys hanging out, playing games of any kind. He’s also content to sit and watch b movies with you while eating popcorn or candy

- Ortho enjoys hanging out and doodling. He doesn’t often get into arts - lots of wet things he probably shouldn’t play with, or messes, etc - but he does enjoy drawing and is happy to sit with you and do so.

Idia sits beside you, shoveling sour candy into his mouth by the fistful as he watches fnaf security breach play throughs next to you, mumbling about inaccuracies of robotic engineering in the character design and how buggy the stupid game is.

“Idia?”

“Hmm?” He finally turns his attention to you, blinking, “What’s up?”

You shift a little closer to him, resting on his shoulder. He tenses for a second, then settles back down. “bad day.”

He adjusts and quietly quits his game (there’s not a pause button, unfortunately) before turning more attention to you.

“Have some NPCs been bothering you? Or is it the debuff?”

“Debuff.” You said quietly, closing your eyes, “Psychological damage, down ten hp per second.”

“That’s not good.” Idia said, awkwardly patting your head, “Any boosts I can give you, or do you just need to wait out the effects?”

You hum slightly, “Wait it out. Can’t really help anything in my head, yknow?”

Ortho chirped slightly from the doorway, floating into the room. He then landed in front of you and crouched down, “Y/n? Would you like to play something?”

“Not right now, Ortho.” You said tiredly, “I’m kinda…sick at the moment.”

Ortho blinked before his yellow eyes emitted a soft light.

“Scanning for abnormalities in biological settings…” He stood up, staring down, “Scan complete. Neurological functionings indicate an uptick in adrenaline, cortisol, and norepinephrine, and a lack of dopamine, serotonin, and oxytocin. It appears you are going through psychological distress, or potentially depression.”

You nod slightly and Idia frowns from beside you, but says nothing.

“I’m not doing great right now, no. I just need a minute to chill. I’ll be alright.”

The brothers exchange a look before Ortho sits down beside you and Idia quietly turns on Animal Crossing: New Horizons to play. They both know it’s best to let you have a moment to collect yourself, that if you want to share it you will, and if not, then company is appreciated. Idia’s left side is trapped by you leaning on it, so he only plays with on hand (slowly) while Ortho, on your other side, quietly begins researching cool bugs.

It’s pleasant, actually. To not be coddled or pitied, and instead simply allowed space near people you care about. Idia doesn’t push - lord knows there’s things he’d rather not talk about - and Ortho simply adores you, so he’s content to sit beside you quietly.

After a while you sit back up, blinking sleepily. With a yawn and a stretch, Idia’s attention turns back to you.

“Tired?”

You nod slightly, humming under your breath.

“Yeah, I get that. Do you wanna lay in bed, or do you wanna go back to your place?”

“I can walk you back if that would help, Y/N L/N!” Ortho says, “But you’re invited to stay over as well.”

“Can I…stay?” You look between the two.

Idia grins, faux mischief, “Muah hah haha ha! You’ve fallen into my sinister trap - the bed! Now you will never escape the underworld! Ha ha ha ha ha!”

You laugh a little as Ortho helps you over to the bed. “Oh no, whatever will I do? You’re too OP for me!”

Idia grins stupidly and turns off some of the major lights, as well as turning down the brightness of his monitor.

You hum slightly and settle into Idia’s bed, asking, “Are you sure this is alright?”

“I rarely use it except to dramatically mope in, so you’re good.”

Idia smiles at you and gives you a nervous thumbs up before turning back to his silent gaming, allowing you to fall asleep to the sound of animal crossing background music playing faintly across the room and the hum of Ortho’s resting station.

#twisted wonderland #twst #twst headcanons #twisted wonderland headcanons #idia shroud #ortho shroud #amputee reader #idia shroud x reader #platonic or romantic #discussion of prosthetics #disabled reader #twst disabled reader

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ryemackerel · 9 months

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HALLO i was wondering how you get out of art block?? your art is very expressive and i absolutely adore all your colour choices and designs. ive been having trouble with art block for a very long time now so i’m just trying to ask other artists how they get outta it <3 i hope u have a niceday yesyes

OUGHH HELLO!!! holy crap, art block is the WORST. everytime i encounter it, its always hard to beat it D: theres days where i feel like i WANT to draw something so badly but my brain just. cant function

i dont have a definitive solution for art block, but whenever i do, i have a few ways to cope with it. sometimes they work, sometimes they dont? but whenever the time comes and im just sitting at a brick wall, i got some survival tips

1. come up with random silly ideas,, it could be anything: random words, phrases, scenarios. they can be as nonsensical as you want them to be. during art blocks, my mind is completely dry with ideas, so i always try to compile a list of ideas from the past so i can come back to them later on. i try to come up with random duos or something as simple as “mcdonalds date”. i might not work on these now, but maybe some random lil word can spark that creativity in me

heres my art ideas list… i have some ideas that are like 8 months old in there BGAHSGA, but i save em there till i feel like working on them

2. STRUGGLE DOODLES!! i like to make a bunch of doodles of random scenes that i think about in my head. doodle practically anything. your favorite person, favorite animal, something you see outside your window, frogs?

heres a few of mine. most of the time, i NEVER get to finishing them. however, during art blocks sometimes i like to go back to really old, incomplete guidelines and add some new, random addition to it. sometimes i forget what my sketches were exactly meant to be? and i guess thats the fun about interpreting stuff and giving things a new spin to them. during art blocks, i HATE trying to come up with new drawings from a blank canvas (since i dont even have any ideas to begin with). but working on old wips, or completely revising them? sometimes these can be super fun :]

[and bonus tip!! and this is like, a golden tip that everyone loves: going back to super old drawings and redrawing them!! its my favorite. i absolutely love seeing the improvement ive made over the years. its also pretty easy to work with since you dont have to stress about coming up with completely new ideas from a blank slate! GAHH i should do that more often.]

3. search up your favorite fanart, go on pinterest, anything. i love this one.

search up some really cool photos of outfits, aesthetic backgrounds?? i find myself searching up a lot of fanart of fandoms im in, any word with “aesthetic” at the end, casino aesthetic, anything! pinterest has always been my go-to platform to find ideas. i go on the app and not even a second in, im blown with all of this cool art n character designs. i have a problem saving almost everything i find into my boards, but at least i saved a chock-full of ideas i can work with. :)

a thing about me: ive never been the type to try and force my art block out. whenever im facing a block, its extremely difficult for me to come up with things on my own. sometimes i let it wait for a while, but that tends to take a REALLY long time. D: if i dont feel like drawing, or doodling, or really doing anything? i always like scrolling through really pretty photos. that tends to spark a small idea in me i can work with, and sometimes i manage to get out of art block from there. it starts out small, then over time it gets even better.

these photos especially gave me WAY more motivation than i ever had to draw wilbur during an art block moment. i started off making small random doodles of him in a neon city and over time it kinda turned into a fixation for neon cities. i LOVE imagining characters in random photos i find on pinterest.

wishing you the bestest in your art journey!! this crap’s tough but i know you can break it yo. thank you so much for the ask!

feel free to reblog and add your own ideas below :] i was only able to come up with a few, but if youd like to add on, go right ahead! /noforce

#ryemackerel asks

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dira333 · 9 months

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Oh Captain my Captain - Star Trek AOS Gen Fic

The linen of your bed is cool on your skin as you lie awake. Is it really only one week left until you leave the Enterprise behind and with her all the friends you’ve made?

You can’t believe you’re really doing this.

As sleep is evading you, you slip out of bed and pull a small box out of your cupboard, spilling its content on your desk. Pictures, small notes you’ve taken, as well as the silly little doodles you’ve always liked to create.

You get to work just as eager as one does who’s tasted the first, addicting spark of creativity, in your dimly lit room in the early hours of Gamma Shift.

You sort everything by person until your eyes linger on a picture you’ve forgotten you own and you pick it up.

It shows you and your favorite professor, his arm slung around your shoulders as you help him stand. Christopher Pike, the man whose speeches have fueled your desire to be what you are today.

Without intending to, your mind slips back into the past.

“I’m trying to have a serious conversation with you!” You yell, chasing after him on one of the long hallways of your home.

“And I’m trying to subtly avoid it!” he answers with a snark, moving his wheelchair away from you.

“Uncle Chris!” You demand his attention and he stops with a sigh, knowing full well that he can’t get away from you when you start using the family bonds on him.

“I’ll stick to my word,” he threatens as you step in front of him, arms crossed over your chest.

“What word?” You ask, “When I was seven years old you saw my desire to go to Starfleet. Your stories made me have that desire in the first place. And you promised me, several times, that you would teach me everything you know when it was time for me to learn.”

“But-”

“No buts,” you disagree stubbornly, “You promised. I know you’re missing the Enterprise but you’re my favorite uncle and my best professor, you can’t just ask me to drop out of Starfleet Academy just because some douchebag decided to attack the Fleet! That’s a risk we live with every day.”

“You’re my niece! You shouldn’t have to live with that.”

You look down at him, less angry but still as determined.

“I will have to live with that either way, but your experience can help me survive it.”

You turn around and walk away, knowing he will need his time to think about it. It only takes him five seconds, five steps of you down the hallway.

“Wait. You’re right.”

You heave a sigh and look down at the picture. Khan’s attack has taken an even greater toll on his health and you can’t be thankful enough for him to be still alive. With a smile you scan the picture and type a letter to him, thanking him for the role he’s played in your life.

You move through the pictures, taking each one up to look closer at it and let your mind wander to memories you cherish, moments you want to remind them again, now that you leave.

You’re just about to take a seat at the navigator’s desk on the bridge as a bright voice pipes up behind you.

“Did you know that the role of the navigator was invented in Russia?”

“What?” You turn around to find a curly haired boy standing behind you, grinning at you.

“It was Toporov Marka Igorevich, who-”

“You’re lying.” You interrupt him and he stops short, his grin faltering.

“I don’t.”

“You do.”

“I don’t.”

“You do.”

“Are you clinically insane or incredibly annoying?” He asks, only half joking.

“I don’t know, probably both.” You reply and he laughs out loud.

“Good to know, but I didn’t lie. Now move over, this is my seat.”

“Not for long, Mister,” you tell him and slip out of the chair, patting his shoulder, “But I will let you have it as soon as the Captain’s chair is mine. My name is Y/N, better remember it.”

“Pavel,” he shakes your hand, “And don’t worry, I won’t forget you.”

“I am sorry, but you are not allowed to go onto this away mission.” A woman holds you back.

You take a long look at her, before smiling.

“Lieutenant Uhura, right?”

“Affirmative. But you knowing my name does not change anything about that decision.”

You squint at her. “And who made that decision?”

“As far as I know I Capt- Mr. Pike asked Captain Kirk to withhold further missions.”

“Until when?”

“I don’t have any information about that.”

You take a closer look at her face, before breathing out.

“You don’t agree with either of them?”

“No, I don’t,” Lieutenant Uhura answers you, “I have seen your record and I trust in Captain Kirk’s decisions. If he says you’re suited for a mission, you are suited for a mission. If you’re not, you’re not.”

“But Uncle Chris…”

“Mr. Pike is clearly worried, now that he’s not able to stay with you.”

“Well,” you sigh, “I’m sure there’s no use in arguing about this mission now.”

“Sadly not, no.”

You nod to yourself and to her as you make a decision, stepping back.

“Excuse me. I have to go make a scene.”

She smiles when you leave.

“I feel like I’m being stabbed.” You groan as you lie on the dirty floor of the cave you’re hiding in.

“How do you even know what it feels like to be stabbed?” Lieutenant Sulu asks, peering out into the darkness.

“Excuse you, I have a very active imagination!”

“Excuse you, you said you weren’t injured!” He looks back at you and you think you can see the worry in his eyes.

You laugh, unamused. “I’m not injured, you idiot. I have my period.”

Sulu sighs, turning back towards the opening. “Why did you insist on going on this mission then? And why do you discuss your period with me anyway? Is it because I’m-”

“It’s because you’re there and you’re breathing. I would discuss my period with everyone present that’s a living being, thank you very much.”

You can hear him laugh and turn a bit to throw your supply kit at him. He catches it easily.

“Get on your feet, we’re moving. If you get us caught with you moaning in pain, I will bite you.”

“Wow, what a threat,” you tease him, pulling yourself up. Despite the pain, you know how to focus on what’s important.

The priority right now? Get to the camp. Preferably alive.

The first time you meet Nurse Chapel, it’s in a camp on a planet, ready to evacuate.

She’s blond, she’s fierce and she’s drenched in blood.

“All that blood looks good on you. It really brings out your eyes,” you tell her, right when she turns around to look at the two of you.

Sulu’s elbow rams your ribs, but it’s too late, the words have slipped out already.

Christine just laughs and her first reaction foreshadows every further impression you get from her. She laughs at your jokes, she takes you seriously when you need to be taken for real and she manages to push you to the limits you’ve thought you had.

You put the picture of her down on the other side of the table, typing a message into your PADD.

“Dear Christine, as much as I dread the time here running out, I can’t wait to meet you again. How lucky I am, to get this chance, to be lucky like this. I get to be a Captain and have you as my head nurse. Also, McCoy wanted me to tell you that he’s never had a better nurse than you. I do believe he never meant anything more serious than this in his life. Not that it surprised me. I know how great you are.”

You watch Keenser pour a thick, bright yellow liquid into a glass before he drops three green seeds into it and waits until they have dissolved. Whatever he’s mixing, you can’t pronounce neither its name nor its ingredients, but everything he uses is either brightly colored, smells intoxicating or looks like something taken out of the imagination of a small child.

Watching him work on that drink is the best show you’ve seen for a long time.

His last ingredient smells just plain disgusting.

“Is that-?” You ask, afraid to think about what it looks like. Something like a liquid but it looks like it’s moving as if it is alive. You’re not sure, but its color makes you want to retch, at least until he drops it in the drink, stirs and pushes it towards you.

“That’s disgusting,” you tell him. He shrugs and pushes the glass the tiniest bit further in your direction.

You sigh and take the drink, sniffing it. It doesn’t smell bad, but the sight of that last ingredient…

Keenser glares at you and you pull a face and take a few large gulps, downing almost half of its content in one go.

“That’s disgusting,” You tell him, “You’re lucky you’re cute.”

He shrugs again, urging you to drink the rest of your glass.

“I am way too sober for this.” Scotty groans right beside you, staring at the glass you still have in hand.

“You’re not sober,” you remind him, “You and me, we’ve got the hangover of our lives and Keenser is trying to cure it.”

“Oh,” Scotty says as if he has just realized that now, “I totally forgot.”

“You forgot you had a hangover?” You laugh but stop when the pain in your head makes you realize what a bad decision that had been.

“No, I forgot I already woke up,” he groans, slumping on the table, “This feels like a nightmare.”

Keenser pulls a bottle out of his pocket and pushes it across the table into Scotty’s hand.

You clink your glass against it before raising it to your lips.

“May we keep our promise and never drink Sinar Whisky again.”

“Aye!”

“God, ‘dying is easy’ was the biggest lie ever. I’m exhausted.” Jim bemoans from his bed.

You roll your eyes and wring out the cloth before you bring it back to his forehead to cool down his fever.

“You’re not dying,” you tell him, “You’ve just got the flu.”

“I’m burning up, my throat-” he coughs and rasps to emphasize his point, “hurts, I can hardly breathe and there’s no medicine available.”

“We have plenty of medicine, Captain,” you remind him, “Now stop whining or I will not ask Doctor McCoy to get off his shore leave earlier to take care of you.”

“Did you just insult your Captain?” Jim asks and you roll your eyes.

“You’re dying but your hearing is just fine. How about you keep in mind that this is shore leave, Uncle Chris invited you and I have to use my vacation time to look after you.”

“You’re an angel?”

“That sounds way better,” you smile at him and tuck the blanket around him.

A week later you’re back on the Enterprise and sick yourself.

Not that you don’t try to downplay it.

But when you manage to sneeze all over your monitor during your shift on the bridge, it’s hard to hide.

“Are you feeling unwell, Lieutenant Y/N?” Spock asks after you’ve sent everyone a glare that was supposed to stop them from asking. It didn’t stop him.

“I’m fine.” You growl.

“You do not look fine.” He disagrees.

“Then stop looking.” You snap back and turn away from him to wipe the snot off your monitor. It’s gross but it would be grosser to leave it where it is.

“You are to report to med-bay immediately.”

“It’s just a cold,” you disagree, shooting a glare back at him, cursing the fact that Jim has to be in a meeting with Scotty right this moment. He would let you stay, if only for the reason that he got you sick in the first place. But Spock is not just a rule-obsessed Vulcan, but a very stubborn one too.

“You could infect everyone else on the bridge and a common cold, as you call it, could be fatal to co-workers of other species,” Spock disagrees again, “You are to report to med-bay right now, or I’ll have to force you to.”

You roll your eyes and get up, “Alright, fine, I’m going.”

In the end, it’s not his authority who makes you follow his orders but the risk of infecting others. Not that he will see your actions this way.

“Take the damn medicine!”

You regret going to med-bay the moment Doctor McCoy is trying to force something disgusting looking down your throat. You’d rather take Keenser’s hangover drinks any day.

“No, it’s gross!”

“Stop acting like you’re two and take it!” The spoon stays right in front of your mouth and you press your lips together, determined not to let that spoon through.

“You’re worse than Jim!” He groans and you open your mouth to disagree. A big mistake, as he shoves the spoon inside the moment your lips part.

You splutter and cough but there’s no use, the medicine is already sliding down your throat and you glare at the doctor.

“What was that for? That was unfair!”

“Was not! And now lay back and get well or I’ll stab you with a hypo the next time you need medicine!”

“Unfair!” You insist and he gives your shoulder a shove as you stick your tongue out at him.

You halt in your memories, thinking back at the time spent with Dr. McCoy. It had not always been fun, but there had never been a second where you had doubted he had meant well.

“I should have been you a better patient”, you write into the letter directed at him, “I should have taken the medicine and not cursed as much when you had to give me a hypo. I can’t promise to be better, as I don’t know what cruel CMO I will get on my own ship, but I promise to miss you.”

Finally, the day arrives where you leave, your new ship coming close enough to pick you up, taking you to earth where the command will be given you officially.

You cry, you sniff, you smear your tears in your friend’s uniforms, but eventually, you step onto the transporter PADD and wave one last time in the direction of your friends before the golden light hides them from your eyes.

When you can see again, you look into the eyes of your new first officer, who’s smiling back at you.

“Wipe away that tears,” Carol Marcus announces, “We’ll be partying tonight and we won’t stop until anyone on this ship knows that you’re our new Captain.”

“I hate you.” You grumble back and she smirks before she answers. “Why? I’m lovely.”

You hit her, gently, on the right shoulder. “You know why.”

“Oh, because I did not let you stay sad? I booked some time for you tomorrow evening, you can be sad then.”

You hit her again and she laughs and slings her arm around your shoulders.

“No violence, Captain!”

You eventually know you have found a new home on this new ship when the door of your ready room opens and a familiar face appears.

“Carol Marcus told me you’re feeling sad.”

“Jaylah!” You jump out of your seat to hug you, “I’m so glad to see you again.”

“But you knew you would see me! We spoke about me already being here.”

“I know, I know, it’s just a figure of speech, I was missing you, you know-”

“Do you need tea?” Jaylah asks and you stop to look at her.

“What?”

“Montgomery Scotty used to say that tea cures everything. So we should begin with tea.”

“I’m not sick.”

“But-”

“No but, no tea. I know you are worried about me, but if you try to feed me soup, or give me any more blankets I am going to slap you.”

“But I didn’t give you a blanket in the first place?” Jaylah looks just as out of place as you’ve felt before she’s barged into the room.

You laugh. “I’m sorry. I think I just have to get used to this, is all.”

“I have a remedy to that. Carol Marcus has planned a party for you anyway.”

#my writing #Star Trek AOS #Jim Kirk #leonard mccoy #leonard bones mccoy #spock aos #aos Spock #nyota uhura #hikaru sulu #pavel chekov #christopher pike #scott montgomery #scotty AOS #Bones AOS #Gen Fic #star trek fanfiction #star trek imagine #star trek family

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chaosdisorganized · 4 months

Text

I want to get back into creating but I've been in a creative slump for years and I'm itching to start again but I'm uninspired. I could stare at a blank sheet for hours and my brain can't come up with anything. I use to write everyday, I could pump out poem after poem with or without prompts, I could draw and doodle with little thought, but now my brain works against me. Any time I try my brain blanks out. It's incredibly frustrating, especially now when I'm struggling so much with my recovery and I feel like creative processes could help. I got back into reading to try and get that spark back, it hasn't worked yet but I guess I'll keep tearing through books and writing nonsensical garbage until something comes out of it.

#vent

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coffeeandjournaling · 1 year

Text

Field Guide to Memory

A keepsake game by Jeeyon Shim and Shing Yin Khor

Materials

game manual

journal

pen, art supplies

printer (if you want to use the ephemera provided)

some common items for one prompt or another (coin, leaf...)

Premise

Accomplished cryptozoologist Dr. Elizabeth Lee has gone missing and is now declared dead five years after her disappearance. Her ongoing research on the Pronghorned Desert Rat remains unfinished and is currently held hostage by the Institute for Theoretical Evolutions. As her former student, you set out to finish what your mentor started to save these endangered critters and reconnect with Elizabeth and her legacy in all new ways - some surprising, some humbling, some devastating. This is a game about community and finding peace in the knowledge that no one ever truly leaves this world as long as they are remembered.

Mechanics

At the beginning, you use the character sheet to create your persona. Each in-game day then provides you with the next piece of the narrative as well as one or several prompts to journal about. Most of the prompts are presented as some sort of in-game correspondence or other ephemera/facsimiles for you to react to. You journal in three different categories, as given in each prompt: your diary, your field notes and your correspondence (each is basically exactly what you would expect from their name). If you take notes on cryptids, answer some official letters or reflect on your time with Dr. Lee, each journal entry brings you closer to the whereabouts of the Pronghorned Desert Rat. Some prompts bleed into your reality as the player - you might be asked to destroy parts of your journal or go outside to answer a prompt and gather materials. Bit by bit, you’re creating your own artifact, a chronicle of your efforts, as foreshadowed by the keepsake aspect of the game description.

Thoughts and Examples from my Playthrough

Field Guide was my first foray into solo games and a truly magical experience. The game has a very strong narrative, aided by a pleasant and engaging writing style that manages to feel consistent and still leave room for distinct character voices. You’re drawn further into the story by the lovingly designed ephemera and facsimiles, effortlessly fitting into the gorgeous layout of the game manual (which feels like a horrible name for something that is much more than just a guide for you to follow). Sitting down every day to answer prompts was always thrilling: What piece of Dr. Lee’s colourful past will be unveiled today? Which challenges lie ahead? Who is going to join my ranks of allies? Each journaling session was satisfying in a different way, each prompt unique and engaging.

The simple yet elegant layout, the ephemera and the writing spark your creativity to create beautiful, clumsy, neat, human ephemera yourself. I haven’t drawn for a good while before I started to play and suddenly found myself doodling again without pressure or anxiety. You don’t need to be an artist - the game doesn’t judge your skills, only challenges you to try. If that’s not your cup of tea, there’s enough material to be printed and used as a base for your journaling. It might help to have some stickers, washi tape and similar stationary supplies at hand, but maybe your character prefers a simple black pen in a blank notebook.

If you decide to play, you will be busy for a few weeks, at least. I do recommend you take your time, as intended by the game - it’s a much more lasting, reverberant experience and will stay with you for a good while after. Some of the “reality-breaking“ aspects had me wait on the next journaling session for a couple of days until I could do what the prompt asked me to - while you can always use your imagination, of course, I found the waiting time to be beneficiary to my game experience. It felt wonderful to finally get back into it, like I waited for a letter in the mail that finally came. Honestly, don’t rush it. And don’t worry if you leave the game to rest for a bit - it’s gonna marinate in your head and get even better. Linking the game to real-world places and experiences connects you that much more with your character and the story you’re building. I don’t think I’ll forget that day at the park although I was alone and the weather was terribly bleak - yet I enjoyed myself immensely.

A lot of the gameplay relies on you getting introspective. You might reach into places that feel uncomfortable for you. While the mood in general is a lighter one, with bright memories of your mentor just as frequent as the more sombre ones, it can get pretty dark here and there. Personally, I liked these parts best, but if you’re looking for an overall fluffy and happy adventure, this might not be for you. I’m not ashamed to admit that I cried a little at the end.

Finally, the cryptids! There’s of course the Pronghorned Desert Rat, a small horned critter on the verge of extinction (according to Dr. Lee). If you are not able to attach yourself to your late mentor, these wee guys will motivate you to keep going. Learning about them, their behaviours and characteristics, was some of the most intriguing things about the game. With them come a few more cryptids that are part of their ecosystem and a few others you will have to explore or make up yourself, as well as - light spoiler! - some sexy cryptid costumes for a burlesque show. The concept of the ecosystem is also adapted to describe the community you build to achieve Dr. Lee’s goal. The theme of connection is weaved strongly into every aspect of the narrative and gameplay, so much so that you begin to think of it even at times you’re not playing. What makes a community? I think that is one of the question the game wants you to find an answer to.

Even though you have plenty of creative freedom to answer your prompts during the game, the narrative is mostly linear. There’s a predetermined ending that you can embellish to your liking and will be different for each player, but I reckon a second playthrough for the same player, even with a new character, wouldn’t differ significantly and isn’t necessarily worth it. That being said, the time you spend with it is plenty and I find the game worth the cost for what it is.

This might be your cup of coffee if...

you prefer to be guided in your solo adventures.

you enjoy a well-designed manual full of fake memorabilia and ephemera to use in your journal.

you’ve always wanted to be a cryptozoologist.

you take pleasure in exploring a character in-depth, especially in relation to other characters and how they impacted yours.

you are open to experimental mechanics.

You can find the game on itch.io. Both creators also have their own patreon - your support garners you access to some of their smaller projects, which are also worth a look!

#solo rpg #review #journal #long #beginner friendly #reality encroaching #keepsake #drawing #drama #field guide to memory

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cerealmonster15 · 1 year

Note

Give me A D and L of your Twisted OCs do it

ty for always enabling me and my twst crimes despite not twsting yourself kjdsfj 🧡

also tagging @cosmiccoincidence ty for the double enabling WOO

ok here's the sketchy whatever i did 2night, was gonna do some basic colors but i got sleeeepyyyy so maybe tomorrow ill do that lol

HEHFHSFEHFJK anyway. alda beloved none of this will make sense to u so ill try to give spark notes explanations as i go but. these two goobers are rsa [royal sword academy - the rival school that seems to be more based on the Good Guy™ disney characters rather than the main school's villains lol] students.

the very short summary is guy on left (Char - I looked thru sooo many names for him and that's the one i ended up on lol. some twst names are really on the nose like VIL for the EVIL QUEEN so why cant i use char!) is cater diamond's [a canon character who's said to have moved around a lot] childhood friend from when they were like 5 but lost contact w/him. Dañarte (literally not a name. it's spanish for 'hurt you' and it only came up/his existence spawns from a typo turned autocorrect in a message i was sending my frined and we just kept it for funsies and i made a character out of it lol 😭) is his shady cousin that has a charming friendly appearance but is going to cause problems on purpose bc hes a bitter baby or whatever.

i have a lot more details w/them and their connection with BESTIE CATER but that's not what the ask was about so i will HOLD BACK!!! for now.

ok answering the actual questions under a cut bc blahblahblahblah

A) Why are you excited about this character?

because!!! i see a lot of people make really creative twst ocs based off other disney characters and i think that's SO FUN!!!! i dont really think i myself am very creative of a person, but this was something i kinda got to have fun with. i had the initial thought with char based off one random fanart I saw like forever ago, so i borrowed the starting idea and then just completely ran off with it to do my own thing, SPIN MY OWN WEB!!!! [i think the fanart was like, just some random rsa guy recognizing cater; it was japanese fanart so i had limited google translate on my side - idr if the childhood friend thing was part of it or if that's just a thing my brain decided to fill in the blanks?? anyway i went from there / designed my own random guy / started LORE BUILDING and EXPANDING]

also their involvement is very much a soap opera esque TEEN ROMANCE DRAMA which i think is funny. a lot of this came from just talking to my friend in discord cuz there was no engtwst at the time and she was the only person i knew that i could talk to about twst, so even tho these are my characters, it's something that spawned from me going ham in our discord messages and us bouncing ideas off each other and just havin private fun. unrestrained goofs!!!

D) Have they always had the same physical appearance, or have you had to edit how they look?

HMMMM well according to all the doodles i'd compiled in one spot, it does look like i just went with my initial ideas for both of em and kept it. they r not that deeply thought out bc i am Not much of a designer - god bless the school uniform i could steal so i didnt have to come up w/clothes kfjlsdf. and tbh theyre pretty basic right now so for all i know, maybe this is the prototype. maybe they've yet to go through their first evolution. WHO KNOWS!!!! but in their case, their existence came more from the SOAP OPERA DRAMA storyline i came up with, and wasn't so much based on appearance/character design. i mostly just had doodles and sketchy concepts just so i could continue to doodle parts of said story for funsies to send my friend on discord lol

BESTIE THERE IS NO L!!!!! instead of asking u what u meant im just gonna assume u meant I since lowercase L looks like uppercase I 😌 SO YOU'RE GETTING I!!!

I) Do you prefer to keep them in their canon universe?

ya lol. this 'story' is very much based off like a few lines of canon lore that i just SPRINTED OFF with. drag and dropping these 2 guys into the story - not really related to much of the main story, but just kinda there to cause more teen drama. for funsies.

ANYWAY THANKS FOR ASKING LOVE U BOTH BYE!!!!!!

[x]

#gaminegay #cosmiccoincidence #asks #twisted wonderland #twst oc #cereal tries to draw #ummmmmmmmmm!!!!!#how come i was trying to be brief and concise and i still Talked So Much #i held back a lot of details. and yet.!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!#covers my face anyway bed time bye!!!#ocs #oc: char #oc: Dañarte

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dynamoe · 2 years

Text

Billy throws himself into a high-school-best-friends-hanging-out experience, but his new glasses spark tensions with Pete, who accuses him of being a patsy of the New World Order.

← back to part one | part two | index | archive of our own → word count: 1847 (a short one this time!)

Billy survived the rock show. He couldn’t see anything over the people standing in front of them, but deployed his earplugs like a rock show veteran, impressing Alison enough to consider him a good all-around hanging-out companion.

Whenever their days off lined up, Alison and Billy found something to do. They had to get creative to milk some kind of entertainment out of the exurban void they lived in. The options were limited— bars and most clubs were 21+ and she wasn’t (and no one believed he was). Thrifting at the Salvation Army during the day or seeing a movie at night worked. They’d go to the one late-night coffee bar in town or find an all-ages garage band show to stand in the back of to be judgmental about everyone else there. If all else failed, they just drove around aimlessly.

He was living the high school experience he dreamed of having back when he was actually in high school, having been robbed of it by being only 10 years old at the time. He felt like he was Angela Chase, but wasn’t sure if Alison was his Rayanne or his Jordan Catalano.

No matter what they did, afterward they’d end up at a greasy, smoky coffee shop. Not drinking but still acting drunk and obnoxious because it was 2AM – being loud, smoking too much, drawing dicks on the paper place mats and having deep, philosophical discussions—

“What’s under there?” She touched his eye patch with a disco fry, leaving a tiny gravy spot.

“Nothing.”

“Nothing?”

“I mean, there’s no eye there.”

“Take it off.

“In the middle of a restaurant? That’s pretty… uncouth, isn’t it?”

“Uncouth?” Alison snickered. He took it off.

“No badass scar. What a rip off,” Alison snorted, going back to doodling the Phantom of the Opera on the back of the paper place mat.

“The ER did a good job of sewing it up. I assume. I can’t even remember going to the hospital.”

“Why do you even wear anything over it then?”

“So I don’t have to concentrate on keeping my eyelid closed.”

Uncovered, he did blink and open the blind eye slightly.

“What’s inside?”

“I don’t really know,” Billy tapped the lid with a metal finger, “ Some kind of neutral substrate– a filler.” It just looked dark inside.

“You should keep your keys in there,” she suggested.

Billy looked at the eye patch in his hand, “When I first got it, I hated wearing this thing. It’s so… ‘dollar-store pirate costume.’”

“Bazooka Joe… Danger Mouse…”

“Yes, thank you for your input,” Billy said sarcastically.

“John Ford and Fritz Lang both wore eye patches, two of the greatest film directors in history,” Alison dropped trivia, “And ‘sexy mystery men’ wear ‘em, like Brenda Starr’s boyfriend.”

Billy laughed bitterly, “I’m nobody’s idea of a ‘sexy mystery man,’ even with two eye patches. Or ten.”

“You’re always putting yourself down. It’s exhausting and lame,” Alison noted, now covering the back of the place mat with drawings of fried eggs, “Show a little self-esteem for Christ’s sake.”

“You try feeling good about yourself when your face is literally considered a symptom,” Billy said, pulling a medical textbook out of his messenger bag. He flipped to the section on Genetic Endocrine Disorders and found a listing for “GHD – Cherubic Face” and pointed at the diagram: a line drawing that could have been a portrait.

“‘Flattened nose bridge, maxillary hypoplasia and forehead prominence'—" Alison read stiltedly and then lit up, “Hey! You’re famous!”

He appreciated the positivity, however stupid. He picked up his eye patch again, “Instead of wearing this I used to just comb all my hair forward so you couldn’t see either eye,” Billy tried to demonstrate unsuccessfully, “But my hair was longer then.

“I knew I recognized you from Headbangers’ Ball.”

He poked at the disco fries.

Alison got thoughtful, and concluded, “It must suck to only have one eye.”

“I’ll never experience a Magic Eye picture,” Billy said melodramatically, “Cry for me.”

Alison actually laughed and it felt like when he nailed the final question to clinch the varsity quiz bowl tournament when he was 11. A hard-won victory.

She took off her glasses and considered them, “I got these at an antique mall because I wanted to look like Elvis Costello but they’re kinda more Alec Guinness-in-Tinker-Tailor-Soldier-Spy , y’know.”

“They look cool, though,” Billy said blandly, internally cursing the bone-headedness of his comment.

“They’re too big because they’re meant for a dude,” she offered the glasses to him, “They’d probably look better on you.”

“They’re not my prescription.”

“It’s clear glass,” Alison wiggled her finger behind the lens, “I have 20/20 vision, they’re just for style points.”

“But I can’t usually fit –”

“Quit stalling, Pippi Longstockings. I wanna see how they look,” Alison demanded.

He squeezed the creaking vintage frames over his temples, doing more damage to the 40-year-old plastic in thirty seconds than the previous owner did in a lifetime of daily wear.

“My aim is true,” Billy said, making a fashion model face despite the vice-like pressure above his ears.

“I have an idea. Hold on,” she opened her lunchbox-purse and pulled out a pad of yellow Post-Its. She leaned over the pad, writing intensely.

“You carry Post-It notes with you? Really? ” Billy asked, raising an eyebrow.

“I’m too chickenshit to do real graffiti, “ Alison said without looking up, “But I still want to write FUCK SHIT COCK in public bathroom stalls.”

She leaned over the table and stuck a post-it with a detailed drawing of an eyeball over the right lens of the glasses.

“Perfect!” she declared, “No one will ever know the difference..”

Replacing the ancient hinges with modern titanium pivots with 270 degrees of movement was tricky only because of the small scale, but warping the antique plastic frame itself made him the most nervous.

Cellulose acetate was early plastic made of wood-fiber, the usual material for old eyeglass frames– it was brittle but could be coaxed with gentle indirect heat. He rested the glasses on their side in a pan of not-quite boiling water for a second before bending slightly. He double checked his schematic, checked the angle of the bend and then heated the next section. He didn’t want his modifications to draw attention to themselves.

He removed Alison’s drawing for safe-keeping and sanded the right lens to a frosted finish that blurred his blind side. The moment of truth— he slipped the glasses over his temples and they stayed on. It took all his engineering know-how, but the boy genius had finally made a pair of glasses that wouldn’t crack or crush his giant, spongy head.

“Hey look!” Billy enthusiastically turned to Pete and pointed at the specs, “I got ‘em to fit.”

“Great, now you can attend the Buddy Holly Convention with all the other hipster doofuses,” Pete sniped, his nose buried in NONE DARE CALL IT CONSPIRACY as he lay on the couch.

“Aw, c’mon. This was hard to engineer. Say something nice for once.”

“You’re dressing weird and doing your hair all different now. I don’t like it,” Pete complained, turning his back towards Billy.

“You complained I dressed like a Young Republican the entire time I’ve known you,” Billy sighed, “I finally put some effort in and you’re still on my back.”

“You’re dressing for her. She’s picking out your clothes. You’re a sell-out.”

“I trust her opinions, what's wrong with that? I don’t want you picking out my clothes,” Billy ran a comb through his hair, “I’d end up a… big… pink… powder puff.”

“You’re falling for predictive programing, Pally. Don't believe the hype. And, um, teach the controversy.”

Billy pointed at a stack of brochures and self-published manifestos, “I’ve never seen you read anything longer than the back of a cereal box until now.”

He picked up a paperback of BEHOLD A PALE HORSE, "Your autobiography?"

“Some of us are educating ourselves on how the world really works. Not just buying what the mainstream feeds us.”

“I can’t believe you’ve managed to transfer your ‘everyone is a sell out’ bullshit philosophy from indie records to… massive international conspiracies.”

“Everything we’ve been told is a façade, pally. The government. The laws. It’s all a distraction from the real power resting in the hands of,” White counted on his fingers, straining to remember, “The Freemasons, The Rothschilds, Bohemian Grove, The Dutch Royal Family— who may or may not actually be 7 foot lizard people, Jury’s still out on that one— and the Pleiadians.”

“Pleiadians. From Pleiades? The constellation?”

“Oh yeah, fella. There’s been loads of interstellar contact they don’t want us to know about,” White nodded, “That X-Files crap is misdirection. Area 51 is just a red herring. The truth isn’t OUT THERE, it’s IN HERE.”

A car honked outside the trailer. Billy grabbed his jacket, “I don’t have time to break down how asinine all of this is point by point.”

“Oh my God,” White shouted, “She’s still Duckie-ing you! Wake up.”

“I wasn't allowed to see that movie because my mom thought there might be bad language in it,” Billy shouted back, “BECAUSE I WAS ELEVEN WHEN IT CAME OUT!“ White seemed impossibly old and out of touch to him all of a sudden.

“She's stringing you along, Pally! She's a tool of the NEW WORLD ORDER."

“Don’t wait up, DAD,” Billy spat disgusted, tying his shoe, "Say hi to The John Birch Society for me."

“You’re not a TEEN, Billy. You’re not in high school. You’re not a kid. You’re a grown-up actual adult.” White continued shouting. Billy ignored him, “You listen to NPR and you do your own taxes.”

Billy grabbed his keys from the counter and left the trailer.

“YOU’RE NOT A TEENAGER, BILLY” White shouted out of the door watching Alison's car drive off into the night.

When Billy was booked washing dishes on Saturday night, Alison made it over by the end of his shift to eat unclaimed orders of buffalo wings for the cost of hearing Billy rant about how mozzarella sticks were entirely anachronistic to the ‘‘50s Americana Diner” theme as mass-produced low-moisture mozzarella and the deep-frying technology required to prepare it weren’t even available until the 1970s.

He was happy for the company and having a girl show up for him made all the busboys gossip. After he squelched a rumor that she was his mother (how was that even supposed to work? ) Billy mostly left Nacho, Beto and Chepe alone to say whatever they wanted about “Fósforo’s chica.”

“¿Crees que Fósforo tiene una escalera de tijera cerca de su cama para poder follársela?”

“Apuesto a que su pito es del mismo color que su pinche cabello.”

Billy stopped scrubbing a monkeypod serving platter to snarl, “Uschtedesch schaben que entiendo lo que eschtán dicshiendo, right?”

He looked over at Alison obliviously eating a buffalo wing and leafing through The Psychotronic Film Catalog with a highlighter.

“Hey Alischon, how’d you do on your last Spanish test?”

“22%!” She shouted with a thumbs up, “El Fail-o!”

“¡Qué alivio!” Billy muttered in relief.

to be continued...

part one | part two | index | read on archive of our own

Angela Chase is the red-haired, emotional main character of teen drama My So-Called Life (1994-1995). Rayanne was her drug-taking, rule-breaking best friend; Jordan Catalano (played by Jared Leto) her dreamy crush.

🎠🎠🎠

None Dare Call It Conspiracy and Behold A Pale Horse were foundational texts of conspiracy weirdos. '90s was the golden age of anti-Government conspiracies and the unified conspiracy theory of a New World Order which mutated through the internet into our modern Q-Anon-type bullshit

Conspiracy went mainstream in the '90s. Oliver Stone's JFK brought the "who killed Kennedy?" conspiracy to a mass audience. The X-Files dramatized ideas that had only been circulated in newsletters and on AM radio for 20 years— not just about the government hiding alien contact and UFOs.

We know now the root of most Conspiracies is racism and White Supremacy. It's obvious because modern conspiracy theories "say the quiet part out loud." The foundational "new world order" proof document— Protocols of The Elders of Zion— was written by the Czar's secret police in 1903 as an excuse to persecute Jews.

This was less clear in the '90s; significant percent of conspiracy theorist were either ignorant or in denial. They claimed to be "above" left-right paradigms. Hip slackers watched Alex Jones on cable access ironically and went to Area 51 for a laugh. But at the same time, some conspiracy true believers in "a race war" and a coming apocalypse, loaded up with machine guns or blew up government buildings.

👓 👓 👓

The preferred professional way to manipulate antique plastic glasses frames is by heating them in a hot water bath or in a box of hot sand. At home you can use a hairdryer. Really.

🔥 🔥 🔥

"Uschtedesch schaben que entiendo lo que eschtán dicshiendo..."

Billy understands Spanish. Whether anyone understands HIM is harder to determine.

"Fosforo" is a nickname for a red-haired person or a short-tempered person in a lot of Latin-America. Technically it is "phosphorus" but refers to a match head (made of phosphorous).

#ao3 fanfic #fanfiction #fanfics #fiction #spec fiction #spec fic #billy quizboy #pete white #1990s #1990s nostalgia #writing #story #the venture brothers #vbros #the venture bros #high school #hanging out

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grad604-amber · 8 months

Text

Break SDL: 20 object Rationales

Over the break along with further research, I started to notice patterns in my first lot of 20 objects I had chosen and photographed. From there, I have begun to gather more and solidify a theme and direction.

20 Objects

Above is an image of the objects laid out together and numbered. Nostalgia allows you to understand the journey of personal growth you have undertaken through the years. For me nostalgia provides insights into my identity, highlighting how my past experiences have influenced who I am today in many different aspects of my life but specifically who I am becoming as a creative.

A lot of my objects are things from my childhood and items that represent important and significant moments of my childhood and growing. These things all build and relate to who I am as a creative and the work I produce. The collection of objects theme and consistency may be unnoticeable to others but to me, it is pronounced that these things represent my personal growth.

Jewellery Box: This jewellery was gifted to me by my Nana and Grandad when I was four years old and just moved to Aotearoa from England. I wasn't old enough to care for a jewellery box but now it holds this new significance now, to it feels like this token of 'coming home' Although when I came to NZ it wasn't my 'home', this box now represents the beginning of the place that holds the most significant moments of my life.

Photo album: This is the biggest photo album I own, started by my parents and then continued on by me. While it represents and incases significant milestones in my life it was also the beginning of a creative spark. From as young as five there are little doodles filling the pages creating a very individual and unique book.

Cyanotype print: This is a print I made in my first year of university, it is a cyanotype print. This was my first time trying cyanotype and I was immediately drawn to the way the process was. Starting by painting a blank canvas and then creating pieces digitally and with nature to then be placed in the light. It almost felt magical to me. Through the first year of uni experimenting with so many different forms of design this really solidified my love for analogue processes.

Teddy bear: The teddy bear I received when I was first born, there isn't a deep and meaningful reason behind why my parents got me this, rather my Dad's work just gave it to him as a congratulation. But it became my favourite thing and ever since there it has been with me everywhere. Even now as a 19 year old it still sits perched on my desk. Teddy was once bright pink and fluffy when first received but now it is worn and faded. Teddy represents my growth, we both have grown and changed so much and Teddy represents that for me.

Journal: I use this journal not really as a way to record how my day was or my feelings with words, but rather using it as a creative outlet, I don't use a pencil or a rubber, I use pens and create doodles markings or any scribbles that come to mind. This is an important part of my design process I need to get all the ideas out no matter how silly or whether or not they make sense.

Coaster: This is a coaster from a pub in England - the first time we went back after moving to NZ. At the time I was 10 and my sisters and I decided to 'borrow' it and take home as a souvenir. Now it reminds me how although I don't consider England my 'home', home can be more than one place.

Pounds: Pounds are the currency of England, I chose these specific ones not to represent my birthplace but rather the significance of when it was given to me. When I went to England this year for the first time in nearly 10 years, we saw our dad's side of the family (who are Pakistani) for the first time in a very long time and celebrated Eid for the first time. It isn't something our dad has really shared with us growing up so being able to celebrate Eid and embrace this side of our heritage for the first time was very special. And this was the Eid money I was gifted.

Tiny home: Art is all around us and I think the beauty of op shopping is finding little treasures, I found this at an op shop and loved the physicality of the ceramic work, while it also has a purpose of being a container to hold anything in.

Postcards: These postcards I have taken back with me from England. I liked the way they were showcasing art rather than photography.

Easel: This baby easel was gifted to me by my sister, It is not something I really even intend on painting but her reasoning for it was 'it was just so you'. I have always considered myself a 'creative' in my own way, growing up I was always drawing, painting or creating something, whether it was good or not, it was just something I loved to do.

Flax flowers: These are fla flowers that I made with my Nana when I was younger, I am part Māori from my mum's side and while it is something I have always been proud of it is something I have felt disconnected from most of my life. Moments like this with my Nana have always been important. She taught me different weaving processes as she thought this was a way I could connect with the culture in a creative way.

CDs: These are the few CDs that I grew up listening to and that feels very personal and significant to me. Music helps me feel comforted and surrounded when isolated, it helps inspire my work and is something I always feel goes hand in hand with a creative process as it is always lingering in the background.

Seaglass: I have always loved looking for sea glass when going to beaches, I started a collection when I was younger, I was so drawn to them because of their softness and organicness, also their uniqueness each one was different, from their shape to colour and even to texture. I didn't know it at the time but it was the start of my love for physical forms of art, and how I as a creative am drawn to creating analogue work as opposed to very digital work.

Handmade mug: This is a handmade mug I bought years ago with my pocket money while in New Plymouth. I remember being given an allowance by my Aunty and Uncle and they were surprised that out of anything I could have chosen that was it. I just loved the way it felt so personal and unique and wouldn't look like all the other mugs in our draw at home, rather handmade and my own.

Beatles poster: This is a little Beatles poster that I found in the op shop, I always loved the Beatles as it is the kind of music I would listen to with my mum growing up. I think Music and artists always have the most creative and fascinating designs for album covers and it is the first thing I will always look at before the tracklist or anything else.

Knitted patch: Another product from an activity with my Nana, when I was younger and stayed with her we always found something creative to do. She taught me and my sisters how to knit. This was the first thing I ever made. I then fell in love with it, Although my range just consists of scarfs, I liked the idea of a physical outcome.

Notebook: This handmade notebook I bought in Raglan when on a camping trip with my best friend. I immediately loved the illustrations on it as hand-drawn illustrations are some of my favourite forms of art.

Washy tape: Washy tape is something that takes me back to intermediate, I used to use it to decorate all my school books, collecting many different sizes, colours and patterns and using them to create fun markings on my book.

Pens: These coloured pens that I feel like I have had forever have always been my go-to when starting to plan something or even just scribble something. Sketching something as boring as packaging for one of my other classes with a big colour pen makes something that isn't really considered fun feel easy careless and creative.

'A' book: This book is something that was gifted to me, it was from a small gift shop in Dublin and it is handmade. I have had it for years now and have never really drawn or added anything to it as I find the craftsmanship of the object itself so perfect and intriguing that I have never wanted to mark it. Handmade and analogue pieces of work are always something I find to be so much more valuable then anything else.

Little tokens of mt childhood

Concepts:

Now that I have begun refining my 20 objects I am starting the process of planning and ideating how my poster is going to be presented and in what format. We were given many examples such as mapping, publications, journaling and videos. Below are some of my initial ideating sketches.

very rough and initial ideation stage.

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chaosnoirjpg · 1 year

Text

Make Art. create.

I transcribed the last video link. (I am not apologizing for any errors)

Here is what i have learned from publishing an essay every single week for three years.

I have learned nothing.

I’ve learned that it is better to try than to not. I’ve learned that I never wanna be good I’ve learned that this practice is a process out loud and what happens when I write is probably only ever half baked at best. I have learned I gotta take it to the morning pages first. I have learned that writing isn’t just sitting at my desk

I have learned absolutely nothing. I have learned absolutely everything. I know nothing and I wish to never know at all

Making bad art is an excessive and a reflex. It is the only thing we can ever do and i would argue it’s the only thing we’re supposed to be doing

Good art isn’t real. Not to say good art is faked but to say that measuring anything up against good or bad is going to be a failure every time.

I didn’t set out to make this writing space good or bad. I set out to write.

Divorcing ourselves from the binary of good long enough to create requires a full uprooting of every seed inside us

Each root system ties around our organs so neatly it feels like death to pull them out. But i also think it feels like death not to follow the spark. Or to follow the spark only to judge it so harshly it never leave your drafts folder.

To not write every week feels just as painful as it would. To make something good. To let the demons, trolls and ghost of things i didn’t ask for to win the battle, to not hit send or to not sing while i walk my dog or to not doodle in the quarters of ever form I’ve ever been given by the government.

Because the idea isn’t just the idea its a process, its a deep trust in that process. The time, hikes, leaves fallen, buses missed, lovers kissed, candles burn, empty coffee cups, lakes swam in, muddling and marinating, and trying and fucking up and failing so hard only to realize you had the elixir in your back pocket the entire time

That is what goes into creating

I wonder what the world would be like if parliament took a deep breath before starting for the day.

If the world is so bad and it is, wouldn’t we need our entire system on board. Each seed of creativity working growing. If these problems are so complex that our brunch we announce, “I dont have the answer”. Should we exercise those muscles. Creativity that might be able to dream up that answer

So what if we made something bad. What if it wasn’t good. What if we tried for thee sake of trying. We tried for the sake of fucking up. What if we tried and held ourselves up against that binary of good or bad and divorced ourselves from it and blasted into the galaxy of space and time and universe and feeling that our art could actually exist in.

What we resource and what we have agency over and forms that create a spark in our relationship with it.

So if you do anything revolutionary in this life: make your art.

Write your play Doodle Sing Post your short film (to tiktok) Dance in the streets Take a weaving class Make a dress that’s 3 sizes too small and 6 sizes too big all at once

The world needs your bad art. We’re depending on it.

So if this video is a sign of anything to maybe start your new year it is to make your bad art. i beg of you, we need it.

#make art #art #make your bad art #artist #motivation #inspiration #art of abe #abe the artist

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caffstrink · 3 years

Photo

u know when u open a canvas and ur like “oh its all chill, imma just doodle a bit, get the creative juices flowing, my art groove going” and then u start drawing something and ur like oh this could go somewhere. but somewhere along the middle it just starts feeling really off and you cant lay your finger on why but youve already spent quite some time drawing, erasing, and redoing this so many times you feel too spiteful to give up so you keep going, and by the time you get the lineart done youre like damn i actually have no idea how im gonna finish this. so you slap some colors on it and youre like “wow. this sucks. i dont know why i spent so long in this. it was only supposed to be a doodle, i didnt have fun, and it doesn’t even look good for the time it took. i used to be better than this. i used to be so motivated. what happened to that. where has the spark gone? will it ever come back? ive been asking myself this for 4 years now and the spark has never returned, why am i still trying to push through this passionless activity?”. anyway completely unrelated heres a pastry cookie doodle that i spent a stupid amount of time on.

#pastry cookie #fanart #cookie run

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badboyjuyeon · 3 years

Text

mind reader

Pairing: Chanhee x Reader

Genre: Fluff

Word Count: 2.1k

Summary: “One day in class you decide to scream something in your head to catch mind readers. As you do you see your crush flinch.”

prompt credits to writing.prompt.s

Eyes glued to the clock, you counted down the seconds before class would start.

It’s not that you particularly enjoyed English or any of the books you were discussing. Your teacher constantly droned on and on and, with practice, you had finally mastered the art of tuning his voice out.

So it wasn’t exactly the class that you looked forward to, but a special person within that class.

And that person was Choi Chanhee, who had just entered with his bag slung lazily across his shoulder. Though his hair was ruffled and he was sweaty from gym class, he still looked as radiant as ever. He flashed his signature smile, the one that melted your heart, and waved at Changmin who had saved a seat for him.

Pretty people “herd” together, so it’s not a surprise that he often hung out with Younghoon, Sunwoo, and Changmin, the other popular boys that stole the hearts of every person in the school, including yours. You accepted that this crush would not go far because of his popularity, and you were perfectly content with just enjoying his presence.

Before seeing him fifth-period four days of the week, you had only ever seen him in the hallways. You never had any real reason to talk to him, and given the chance, you’re not sure you would even try to hold a conversation with him. You know you would just become a stuttering mess and embarrass yourself. So instead of making any real efforts to do something about your crush, you just made sure to come to class a few minutes early so you could secure the seat that gave you the best view of him.

Your English class was currently doing student-led discussions and your teacher claimed arranging the seats in a circle would help the students interact more with each other. You hated student discussions but had no complaints sitting in a circle, as it allowed you the perfect excuse to steal glances at Chanhee from any angle.

Currently seated within the circle that seemed more like an oval, all of the students tried their hardest not to unintentionally make eye contact with the person sitting across from them. Your teacher introduced the topic the class would be discussing and you doodled at the corner of your page, letting your hand move on its own accord. Your doodles often reflected whatever you were thinking of, so your page was filled with drawings of the pink-haired boy you were currently infatuated with.

The person sitting next to you spoke up, reminding you that you were still in class and needed to contribute to the discussion.

You spoke once to satisfy the participation requirements and tried to ignore the feeling of everyone’s eyes on you. That feeling was 10 times worse knowing that Chanhee was one of the people that was looking straight at you. You avoided looking in his direction, knowing that you would completely freeze up at the mere thought of him. His eyes were finally off of you when you finished speaking, but that didn’t stop your heart from racing. It would take another five minutes before your heart would return to its normal pace.

Having participated, you were now free to be alone with your thoughts.

Running out of creativity to doodle, you decided that you would play a game with yourself to pass the time. This game never failed to amuse you during all of the boring classes you’ve taken. You scanned the room to see what some of your peers were doing. Younghoon was currently speaking, Chanhee was dozing off into space, the girl from your biology class was very clearly trying to flirt with Sunwoo, who was ignoring her.

You decided that Sunwoo would be the first person you tested. This game consisted of you trying to find out if anyone in the room could read your mind.

Sunwoo if you can hear me, write down something in your notebook.

You took notice of Sunwoo’s immediate actions, which would prove if he could listen to your thoughts.

He picked up his pen.

Your eyes widened as you waited to see what he would do next.

He started fiddling with the pen mid-air, and it never ended up touching the paper.

Sunwoo was not in fact a mind reader. You moved on to your next test subject.

You shifted your undivided attention towards Younghoon, who had just finished speaking. He was staring at his notebook, the corner of the page curling underneath his fingers.

If you can hear my thoughts, look at me within the next three seconds.

You counted down and waited to see if he would prove himself to be a mind reader. Younghoon raised his head and his eyes scanned the circle.

You sat up in your chair as you waited to see if he had heard you.

Unfortunately, his eyes did not land on you as he chose to focus on the classmate that was currently speaking.

You slumped back down into your chair. This game was not as fun as it used to be. Either no one was a mind reader or they were too good at pretending not to hear you.

I KNOW YOU CAN HEAR ME AND I’LL CATCH YOU.

You screamed in your thoughts, looking around to see if anyone noticed.

Chanhee, who was still staring into space, suddenly flinched.

What the f-

And then Chanhee’s eyes met yours.

You immediately shifted your gaze to focus on the notebook on your lap. He never looked at you if you weren’t speaking, the timing was all too suspicious. You made sure not to look up from your notebook for the rest of class or think about him, just in case.

After the teacher dismissed the class, you hurriedly packed up your belongings and rushed out of class. But your shoelaces did not cooperate, and you knelt down to tie them. You heard a soft voice call your name from behind you. A voice that you knew all too well.

Why was Chanhee trying to talk to you, today of all days?

There was only one answer. Chanhee was actually a mind reader and he knew about your crush. He was coming to confront you. You quickly shoved your shoelaces in your shoe and ran out the school building, not looking back.

Chanhee watched as you dashed out the school doors, the notebook that had fallen out of your backpack in his hands. He was sure he called your name loud enough but he reasoned that you probably hadn’t heard him with how hectic the hallway was. He placed your notebook in his locker and reminded himself to give it to you before the next class.

You slammed your locker shut, startling the student next to you. You lost your notebook for English class that you’ve reused since freshman year. Sighing, you headed into English class with a substitute notebook and the motive to pay attention, since you didn’t have any of your notes. You searched for the one person that could instantly lift your spirits.

“Chanhee?” Your teacher called out during attendance, waiting for his response.

You quickly glanced around the room to see where Chanhee was seated, but to your dismay, he was nowhere to be found.

On the bright side, you could think about Chanhee all you wanted without worrying about whether he could hear your thoughts. You breathed a sigh of relief and leaned back in your chair.

“Present.”

Hearing the familiar voice, you looked up to see Chanhee standing in the doorway, out of breath, as he rushed towards his seat. You dared not to make eye contact with him again.

You wondered why he stopped to call your name after the last time you had class. There was a chance that he wasn’t actually calling your name and that you might have just imagined it.

But you were quick to dismiss the theory that it was all in your imagination when Chanhee called out to you again after class. The hallway was rather empty and you couldn’t use the chaos as an excuse to avoid him. You nervously turned around to face him. This was technically the first time you spoke to him.

“Hi, (y,n) right? Is this your notebook?” He held out a notebook that looked a little too similar to your missing English notebook. “I think you dropped it after class yesterday.”

You took the notebook from him and sure enough, it was yours. Finding your lost notebook should have filled you with satisfaction, but that was the last thing you were feeling. The doodles of him scattered throughout the pages flashed in your mind. You immediately snapped the notebook shut.

“Thank you so much.” You managed to say, hoping that he hadn’t flipped through the notebook.

He gave you a small smile, unaware of your internal panic. “No problem.”

Not knowing whether to continue the conversation or not, you also smiled, before turning to walk away.

“Oh, and by the way, I know what you’re thinking...”

What- there’s no way. How would he know what I was thinking? Oh my god. Is he an actual mind re-

You stopped in your tracks, grateful that you were turned around so he couldn’t see the sheer look of horror on your face.

You faced him and prepared yourself for what he would say next.

“...You’re probably wondering how I knew it was your notebook.” He looked down at your notebook, which you held protectively against your chest.

Not expecting the words that came out of his mouth, you giggled. The question hadn’t actually crossed your mind, so it was good to know that he was NOT an actual mind reader. Your name was not on the cover, so it was a valid question to wonder.

“I wasn’t wondering but, now that you mention it, how did you know?“

“I recognized your art style from the doodles on the cover. You’re really talented.” He continued to speak comfortably as if you had known each other for years. Your art teacher often hung up your drawings in the art classroom for everyone to see, but you were surprised that he had recognized your art style.

“Thanks, that means a lot to me.” You finally found the courage to hold eye contact with him. You were confused as to why he kept continuing this conversation when it could have ended much earlier with little-to-no words involved.

The corner of his lips lifted into a smirk and a mischievous spark glinted in his eyes. He cleared his throat, “I like my eggs scrambled in the morning...if you were still wondering.”

Eggs scrambled in the morning?

Your eyebrows knitted together in confusion as you tried to remember why that expression sounded so familiar. Or why he claimed you would be wondering that.

Chanhee bit back a smile, as he saw your expression change from confused to panicked in a matter of seconds. Your cheeks turned as pink as his hair.

You were just joking when you claimed that Chanhee was a mind reader, but now you were starting to think that it wasn’t a joke anymore. How do you like your eggs in the morning? That sounds exactly like something you would think.

“What...how did you...“ You struggled to form a coherent sentence.

Instead of answering, he just shrugged and backed away, before heading to his next class. He left you standing in the middle of the hallway unsure of what to believe.

Remembering the notebook that was still pressed against your chest, suddenly it clicked. He had seen the last page of your notebook.

The last page was where you wrote absolute nonsense to relieve your boredom during class. You used to write notes back and forth with your best friend back in freshman year. She would talk about her crush on Changmin and you would talk about yours on Chanhee.

That means he read all about your crush on him. Of all the ways you imagined him finding out, this was the last and most embarrassing way ever. There was no way to save yourself in this situation.

chanhee is so gorgeous

changmin is SO FINE

i wonder how chanhee likes his eggs in the morning

i want changmin’s number so bad

You cursed your younger, boy-obsessed self for setting you up like this. You groaned, any chance you had with Chanhee was officially out the window.

Rereading the page, you noticed that there was a new addition to your conversation with your friend. The unfamiliar handwriting did not match yours or your best friend’s, and the ink seemed to be fresh.

idk about changmin’s but i can give you mine: XXX-XXX-XXXX

p.s. i want you to draw me like one of your french girls

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shinondraws · 2 years

Note

I feel you on losing the spark to create anything big or ambitious. It feels like my output for the last two years has been primarily sketches and other small, quick things. When I started drawing and few years ago, I was trying a lot more to figure things out and make bigger pieces with an actual idea behind them or learn about composition and all that. Now like 80% of my art is doodles in my sketchbook because I can never sit down to do some big piece with thought behind it.

(cont) Partially I'm fine with it because I do think I'm acquiring some more technical skill such as doing better linework or learning a little more about anatomy but in other ways it feels like my head is stuck in a cave and I just don't have the brainspace or energy to come up with interesting concepts or actual ideas anymore.

I think for what it's worth it may be a good thing to just do something just to keep the gears moving and gaining the mileage. I also have to say that it is just fine to do sketches and doodles as long as you enjoy it. I think it's when you feel like something is missing or you're not getting the same kind of fulfillment or joy out of what you do that it might be time to do something about it. I think the combination of losing the spark but still keeping up the grind can potentially lead to a burn out of sorts (not talking about the kind of physical/mental exhaustion necessarily but creative burnout).

In the past two to three years my art has been mostly just simple drawings without an actual idea or a thing I would like to communicate. I do have a ton of different ideas for bigger pieces but starting on any of them feels daunting.

Time is one aspect. There is never enough of it these days and I feel like the little free time I have is squeezed in between deadlines and schedules. I think the kind of creativity and art making I'm missing requires a certain kind of fluidity, breathing space. Not a time slot that I must use effectively.

External and internal expectations and demands are definitely a factor for me and while I have kind of been able to detach from social media a bit and only using it as a dumping ground (against all social media tips) but it frees up some of my mental space at least.

I just miss the feeling of being really inspired by something and giving into the feeling. Like when I used to make pieces inspired by songs. I would just listen to the song and get fully immersed and just draw and paint whatever it was that I saw or felt. Now I feel like just when I manage to grasp that feeling I can't keep a hold of it. I know it is there but I feel like I am pushing it away. it's not just the external limitations like time but I think I'm actively repelling the surge and telling myself "later" and eventually it just fades. I fear it might not come back some day.

I wish I could just tell myself that yes, now! Let's do it!

Looking back at all the things that I made with so much passion, my art, my comic, even my commission pieces seemed to have more soul in it. I do feel at a loss. It's really sad.

#glueblade #ask

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bluefirewrites · 3 years

Note

i gotta Juke AU story

————

this is inspired by this one filipino movie i watched “para sa hopeless romantic” but julie and luke go to the same uni and julie writes a random line of lyrics on a schools desk and luke writes the next lines when he’s in his class. the next day julie sees someone finished her lyrics and they end up having a finished song throughout the week. they obviously end up falling in love with each other’s words but one day the desks in that classroom were thrown out so julie and luke try and find the desk and run into each other only for Luke to find out it’s Julie, his crush since the beginning of school, and Julie finds out it’s Luke, they boy who she’s been eyeing ever since she’s first seen him. honestly this is all over the place. this is just another random college au. tehe

I DID NOT KNOW THIS WAS FROM A FILIPINO MOVIE!

I have much more pride in my culture now you have no idea haha! But no really, Filipino movies can be the cheesiest, silliest, most cliche things I’ve ever seen. And I mean that endearingly.

So it makes total sense that this super cute trope that I see popping up in different fandoms came from a Filipino movie.

I think I’ve seen an iteration of this on AO3 and it was super cute! (But I think it was more like leaving a piece of paper on a desk).

But yes, yes , YES.

Juke is the perfect ship for this.

Hmm... I think it would be an interesting take, because my mind went to Luke first, if it was Julie who would start it- yes I agree with you.

It is canon that Luke helped Julie finish the song that she had been working on with her mom (’Stand Tall’), so might as well run with it.

Maybe during her quiet year, where she didn’t sing or play piano, she often found herself doodling a lot. She kinda threw herself into drawing. It was her creative outlet that brought her comfort during these rough times.

She’d have trouble paying attention in class sometimes, and so she would end up doodling.

Now, I used to have a history class that frowned upon doodling in notebooks. The notebooks would be graded, and if there is a non-history, non-relevant doodle in the margins or anything- you get points docked off.

So Julie, like me, tried remedying this by doodling on post it notes to avoid getting in trouble.

But one day, Julie forgets or runs out of post it notes, and she’s only got her history notebook and textbook with her. And since she has no qualms marking up her jeans and shoes, she thought she’d be discrete and doodle on the desks.

Not like anyone would have a problem with that anyway. These desks are old af and scratched up and had doodles on them already.

She would start drawing her usual stuff- funky creatures, bubble letter-ed profanities, etc.

But then she starts thinking about her mom, she starts doodling dahlias and even a rose in one corner. Memories start flooding back and she starts absentmindedly writing down a lyric of a song they never finished, just bits of pieces figured out:

‘Don’t blink...no, I don’t want to miss it’

She didn’t think to erase it. Just grabbed her stuff and went to her next class.

The following day however, she pulls out her post-notes (after getting more) and is about to doodle when she sees a new scribble on the corner of the desk where she wrote her lyrics.

Squinting, she realizes those are words (geez, the penmanship sucks). But she was able to make it out:

‘One thing, and it's back to the beginning’

It’s written right under her line. And she reads them together-

Wow. This sounds... pretty good.

She quickly jots this mysterious new addition to the song in her post-notes, but not before giving writing another shot and provide another line. Curious, if she would get another response.

She does.

And it’s perfect.

It’s been a year, a year since she felt the urge to write, to think about music- but, when all the lyrics fall into place, Julie is suddenly inspired to continue.

She spends the entire class thinking about how to reply, how to keep the momentum of this song going.

When she gets it, she writes it down underneath the new line. And waits.

And like clockwork, next day she sits down and there’s a new addition.

First verse done- Julie couldn’t believe it.

Smiling, she records it all and had to erase everything from before to make more room.

‘Thanks’ she writes ‘Keep going?’

The reply the next day has her grinning from ear to ear:

‘I’m game :)’

And that’s how it goes: Another day, Another killer line.

Julie would rush from her next class, confusing Flynn who did not think she would be so excited going to history, smile on her face, anticipating another message from this mystery writing partner.

Sometimes, she gets too caught up in her head, eagerly thinking up new lines that she often doesn’t watch where she’s going. One time, she pretty much embarrassed herself while bumping into the cute Luke Patterson in her rush to History.

(She practically fell on him and he tried to talk to her after, but she jumped out of his arms before whatever awkward conversation that was bound to happen if she stayed).

Julie and her pen pal would keep working on the song, even came up with a system to let each other know if they’ve finished a verse.

And sometimes it’s not just lyrics. Julie draws her normal doodles next to her lines, and she’s delighted to find even more ridiculous ones waiting for her when she gets back.

There was one time when she’s had to stifle a laugh because a crude caricature of their History teacher in their corner, yelling out the next lyric:

‘I'm goin’ out of my mind!’

(Glad to know someone else shares the same sentiments about their strict history teacher.)

They finish her mom’s song and Julie’s glad... grateful even. But she couldn’t help but feel disappointed... assuming it’s over.

But come Monday the following weekend, her pen pal decided to leave another line-

‘Running from the past... Tripping on the now’

and a new comment:

‘My turn now?’

A new song, and Julie grins, already coming up with ideas...

She loves writing again, especially music. Sparked by this exchange, she eases herself back into listening to music again, looking for inspiration to use for the song she and her mysterious partner are working on.

And writing with this person... is really something else.

But Julie’s favorite part of the whole experience really is the comments written on the upper corner. Stuff like:

‘This part is killer!’

‘Mindreader, much? :P’

‘Wrecking ball at it again. So talented :)’

and her favorite:

‘You make me a better writer...’

She ducks down so no one can see her blush as she writes back:

‘I think we make each other better...’

Flynn one day tells her straight up she’s got a crush on her pen pal, to which Julie denies because how could she have a crush on someone she doesn’t even know.

But as she thinks about it.. she feels like she does. Or at least know enough to establish this sort of connection that feels like they’re in each other’s heads, know how the other person thinks, inspiring the other.

It was... special.

Flynn suggests that she needs to figure out who is leaving these notes. But it’s hard seeing as though Julie has the class in an earlier period, a bunch of other classes are held in the same room after she leaves.

(Flynn tries a sting operation, but ends up getting caught ditching class before she could solve the mystery).

Julie’s worried though. As much as she wants to figure out who this great pen pal is, she wonders if they would be disappointed to find out they’ve been writing her. And not someone as cool and as pretty as Carrie Wilson or her friend Kayla. It’s hard to live up to those expectations.

In the end, she wants to know. At least so she could maybe thank them in person, for helping bring music back into her life and for making history class the highlight of her day.

She decides this right before they break for Thanksgiving. She writes down:

‘I wanna meet you. Can we talk?’

And she’s on pins and needles the entire break, just wondering what her pen pal would say back. ‘Yes’, ‘no?’.

But what she finds when she comes back from break is so much worse than the fear of rejection.

They got new desks.

Their school finally got their shit together and replaced their old, worn down desks.

‘No, no, no, no, no’.

That means she’ll never know what her penpal end up replying...

She runs out of class and finds Flynn, panicked, she tells her what happened. And Flynn does some digging, and she’s able to find out where the janitors dumped the old desks.

Julie totally underestimates just how desperate she is in finding out the identity of her pen pal because she finds herself sneaking back to school at night with Flynn, seeking out the lot behind school where the dumpsters were piled high with the old desks.

Flynn, the ride or die she is, armed with a flashlight, starts taking out the desks along with Julie, and there are... a lot of desks.

They go at it for an hour, and the situation starts to look hopeless, especially when Flynn discovers a whole new set of dumpsters with desks that they haven’t even checked yet.

They’re about to throw in the towel-

But then they hear voices.

Quickly, they hide behind a dumpster right when three guys, with flashlights, come onto the scene.

“Dude, I can’t believe we’re here at this hour-”

“Oh my god. There’s like a boatload of stuff here-”

“Guys. Can you not? And please help me? It’s gotta be here somewhere”.

They sound... familiar. They were definitely not the custodians.

Risking it, Julie leaves her hiding spot-

“Luke?”

Luke Patterson jumps and whips around to face her, “Julie?”

Behind him are his bandmates, Alex and Reggie. Everyone looks at each other confused.

“What are you doing here?” he asks.

“I...uh, I’m-” Julie stammers, “Well-”

Flynn cuts in, “She’s looking for something,”

Luke nods, “Really? So are we.”

Alex scoffs, “Nope. Just you, dude. But we’re helping.”

“Maybe we can help you too?” Reggie offers, “What are you looking for?”

Julie sighs, “... a desk?”

“Well... you came to the right place...” Luke laughs, shining his flashlight on the dumpsters, “Funny enough that’s what we’re looking for too.”

“One in particular?”

Then the guy gets all clammed up, “Uh... yeah. I think... I might have... left something... in it. Something important.”

“How about we all look together?” suggests Flynn, “Help each other out?”

And so they exchange the descriptions on the desk, with Julie leaving out the glaring obvious detail of the note.

They’re surprised to find out that they’re looking for the same kind of desk. The ones they used in a particular building at school, the same one her history class is in.

So they break off and search. And she ends up in the same dumpster as Luke.

“So what’s in your desk?” he ends up asking.

“Huh?”

“You know... that’s so important that you’re here on a Friday night, digging through a dumpster,”

“Right... uh,” Julie scrambles for an answer, “There’s something on- I mean, in the desk... that really helped me. I was going through a hard time. Lost my mom last year-”

Luke stops his search, “Oh, I’m so sorry-”

“It’s okay. I just...” she sighs, finding another desk that looks like hers but not quite, “I just want to find it...”

“I get it. Hopefully we can find your desk.”

“Hopefully we’ll find yours too,”

After another 20 minutes searching, Julie finds it. At the very bottom of the dumpster. Luke’s face lights up once she brings it out.

“Oh my god, you found it!” He exclaims, hands gripping the edge to take it off her hands.

She tugs it back, “Yeah... I found it... my desk,”

“Your desk? But this is my-” he breaks off, eyes widening, “Wait. Are you...?”

“Am I what?”

Luke drops the desk, clears his throat, and starts reciting:

‘I believe... I believe that we're just one dream...’

Julie gasps, then continues:

“Away from who we're meant to be...”

Then together: “That we're standing on the edge of...”

“...great.” Luke finishes, in awe, “You! You’re ‘Lyric Girl’!”

“You’re my pen pal?” Julie says in disbelief.

Luke Patterson has been her pen pal this entire time? The cutie with the cutoffs? It makes total sense. He’s in a rock band and the songs she’s heard from them have amazing lyrics.

Wait... she has been lowkey crushing on Luke Patterson through his words...

“Wow, it’s you! Luke... wow...” she honestly has no words. They used to come easy to her when she talks to him via the desk, but now, after finding out that the local heartthrob is her writing partner, she’s super nervous.

“Look... if you’re disappointed that it’s me... I get it. I’ll give you an out, and you won’t ever have to talk to me again-”

“Julie-”

“-like this is weird- this is weird right? But I mean what we had was nice and all-”

“Julie, can you-?”

“-we don’t ever have to talk about this if you don’t-”

“Julie!” He reaches for her hands and intertwines their fingers, shutting her up.

“Yeah...?”

He takes a deep breath before saying: “Why would I ever be disappointed that it’s you? I’ve... got like a mad crush on you since freshman year...”

Julie choked, “Wait, what?”

“Voice of an angel and wicked beauty to boot? How could I not?” he smiles, “And... finding out that you’re my mystery muse is just... you don’t know how happy that makes me.”

His smile drops and he’s all the sudden bashful, “Wait... are you disappointed that it’s me?”

She shakes her head, “No, no! That’s not why! It’s just... you’re this rockstar in the making! I didn’t think- I didn’t think you’d ever pay attention to me.”

“I do... I do pay attention,” he looks down at their desk, “Well... maybe not enough attention, otherwise we would have met sooner.”

She laughs, “Totally,”

They stand there for a while, grinning at each other like idiots.

“So...” Julie decides to jump the gun, “Do you... maybe wanna grab something to eat?”

Luke raises an eyebrow, “Are you asking me out, Julie?”

She blushes, “Maybe,”

“Interesting,”

“So what’s your answer?”

He leans in, “Might wanna look down,” he whispers.

She does, right on their desk and finally reads the reply she’s spent weeks thinking about.

‘Tell me where and when...

I’ll be there...’

Needless to say, but that from that day on- they don’t need to use their desk to talk anymore...

#this... has been sitting in my inbox #and finally I have answered!#I LOVE THIS CONCEPT #giving me the same vibes as my imaginary friends penpal juke idea #i guess this means i just... love Dash & Lily #julie and the phantoms #jatp #julie and the himbos #juke #palina #juke-box #julie x luke #luke x julie #julie molina #luke patterson #how many times am i gonna sneak in 'wicked beauty' in whatever I write?

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