#using one layer to pain is easier and have the look i want but oh boy! sometimes painting over the mistake feels so taxing
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everytime i draw noir, he looks slightly different each time
#z rambles#i think its horrible to know that v*olo is probably the most fun im gonna get paintin these guys#most likely cuz hes the easiest to draw out of all of them#ad*man is a pain no matter what. i want irida to be perfect so im plagued with perfection#noir is just. noir is my kid so sth precious. i wanna take my time with it but i only have 10 hours each#3 hours spent already and ive only done what. 20%? cuz i was so dumbfounded with her lashes#then i realized i forgot to use the old ref#using one layer to pain is easier and have the look i want but oh boy! sometimes painting over the mistake feels so taxing#not really but u get what i mean i enjoy painting
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How do you draw Idia’s hair so good?? I struggle with the basic shapes so much!
Sorry for the late reply! Your ask got us excited because Idia’s hair is such a pain to draw, but also such a fun detail, and I’m very happy that you like the way I draw it <3
Katsu suggested to me to record a speedpaint, and uhh, here it is. Please, don’t mind the wonky anatomy and me horsing around with zooming in and out randomly. As you can see, I struggle with Idia’s hair myself and constantly redraw it until I’m satisfied or at least tired enough to say “eh, that’ll do”. In case you’re wondering, it took me ~25-30 minutes to do the hair, and the original video was 59 min long lol I always spend a lot of time moving, reshaping and redrawing details when I draw Idia…
youtube
I’ll also list some tips and thoughts about it based on the way I draw it…
The shape of Idia’s hair is not at all consistent. Even in Toboso’s art it looks slightly different sometimes, which makes sense, because Idia has magical fire hair and technically you could do whatever you want with it.
But some rules tend to apply each time. For example, even though Idia’s hair is long and seems naturally “heavy” because of it, the individual strands tend to be turned upwards, like fire would. Not every single one, but the shorter ones and the ones closer to Idia’s head tend to do so.
It’s wavy, but not too wavy. If the hair starts looking too “soft”, add sharp edges, random strands sticking out, rough shapes, etc.
Oh, and it’s important to remember that it floats. This means, it doesn’t just go straight down, it does this weird “S” shape. It’s also hella long, I always forget just how long Idia’s hair is. If the magic fire logic didn’t apply to it, it would reach the ground easily. The volume of his hair is much bigger than I tend to remember too: it's quite thick and luscious lol So please give him lots of hair!
Tiny little flames + “holes” in the main ehh body of hair (wow there must be a way to phrase it better) make everything look good and more believable. Have fun with it. You might’ve noticed, I draw and redraw and move them around a lot in my speedpaint.
Obviously, I am no expert, and every artist I know draws Idia’s hair a little bit differently. The speedpaint doesn’t show it, but I always have some of Toboso’s artworks of Idia open when I draw him, just to make sure his design is not too off. I would definitely recommend looking at refs while drawing Idia (or anyone), and maybe even trying to redraw the hair from Toboso’s artworks once or twice as a study, it’ll probably make it easier to understand how Idia’s hair works.
You haven’t asked about the colouring, but I love colouring Idia’s hair, so I’ll talk about it a little. Colouring Idia’s hair is simultaneously the most fun and the most tedious part of drawing him lol 15 minutes of my hour long video is just me filling Idia’s hair with the base blue colour with a lasso (I refuse to use a bucket tool…)
But once you’re done with the base, this is where the fun begins. Because at this stage you can be pretty rough, just add in darker and deeper blues near the middle/core(?) of the hair mass. It doesn’t have to be very even or pretty, add some smaller dark spots; we personally really love it when Idia has this round little blob on his bangs. In the video you can see that I added it later on because I forgot about it lol
After the dark part is done, erase the ends of it a little bit with a soft brush. Not too much, we should still be able to see the shapes.
Then, on a separate layer set on overlay mode, with the same soft brush add some additional brighter spots, to make the hair look glowy. I used the same light blue as the base colour, and the overlay gives it a pretty hue.
And finally, add some white highlights at the ends of the strands. This is the stage when everything stops looking wrong and weird and starts looking like Idia, at least to me.
Phew, I think this is everything I wanted to say… I hope it was at least somewhat helpful.
Sorry for the long post, I just love talking about the drawing process. And about Idia too!
Once again, thank you for your kind words; I’m very happy that you like my art.
Have a good day!
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𝔗𝔬 𝔟𝔢 𝔥𝔢𝔞𝔯𝔡.
112 prayers
A hopeful message with no destination.
You will never be too heavy for me.
Content: angst, breakdown, hints of depression. Suguru's POV. OC appearance.
I smelled it before I saw it. I felt it before I heard it; the presence, the humming. I had never entertained the idea of time travel. No one could actually predict a forced turn in the highway of time, even if Back to the Future made it look so comical. Despite that, I found myself basking in that presence, in that humming, and let it drive me off to when I was a child: innocent and safe.
“Mom?”, hoarse. Silence. A knot of guilt tightened itself up inside my chest. ‘Don’t go’.
“Sorry, did I wake you up?”, there weren't the walls of my room around me, no posters, no bookshelves nor pictures. In fact, there was no room at all. Just an open field I didn't know, somewhere I couldn't remember. I wasn't curled against my mother either. It was just Hogo, and it made me more at ease than expected.
Not being alert in a strange place was a punch to my instincts, but I couldn't bring myself to care aside from a simple:
“Where are we?”
“We’re at school. I carried you here, remember?”, oh yes. She and her stupidly strong arms. “You fell asleep though, so you probably don't”.
I did remember not wanting to come, earlier that day. The air had felt like lead for the entire … month?, weighing heavy on my lungs with each breath. Every layer of clothing was a tight rope made of rubber. It didn't matter how much I tried to fight the dark clouds, they only grew thicker and tighter. It was exhausting. It'd be way easier to just give into the misery. ‘Ah… everyone would be so disappointed to see me like this, choosing the easy way. But I can't carry this and pretend anymore’. So I hid from sewing fake smiles on my face. I just wanted to drown in the pain without witnesses.
Despite that, I let her in.
“C'mon, I want to show you something.”
“I don't really feel like walking anywhere right now”, it had been four days since Tsukumo Yuki talked to me on that very bench, and left me with more thoughts than I could manage. I needed quiet. “Maybe next time”.
Hogo crouched in front of me. Her voice was soft, the one she used when talking to kids. “Please, it won't be long, I promise. We go and then we come back. You will like it”, her eyes were clouded with worry, she looked pretty like that too, “You don't even have to walk if you don't want to”.
“Hmm? How come? You can teleport now, too?”, I cocked a brow, feeling the slight tug of a smile against my will. ‘The things she makes me do’. Her hands closed and opened for a second. She wanted to hug me, and the realization of this loud and clumsy girl being so mindful around me made my chest ache.
“Well, I'll show you if you agree to come with me”, she sang quietly with a spray of confidence.
I was so eager to get an answer to these haunting questions. Haibara’s response was as simple as his own mind. Tsukumo Yuki’s, on the other hand… It was complicated. Or maybe it wasn't? Maybe I had made my choice? But what if I was wrong? How could I know? What would she say? I wanted her thoughts, a piece of her mind to tell me…anything.
‘But not now’. The scent from her neck lulled my senses quiet. The tree leaves above our heads were kind enough to shield us from the summer afternoon. Hogo’s hand traced my skin, untangling my worries stroke by stroke. My legs were folded on her lap, and the vague memory of being cradled this way made me feel so innocent. Too warm to think. Too soft. Too comfortable.
She had a book propped up against my thigh. It was open roughly around the middle.
“What are you reading?”
“112 prayers at midnight”, she hummed, eyes not leaving the pages.
“That's an odd number of prayers”.
“Yeah. It's a story about a non-believer trapped in a time loop trying to save his loved ones after losing them to a mistake… He prays every time for the loop to restart.”
“For a non believer he surrendered fast… At least he has a second chance”.
Silence settled between us. A few seconds later she spoke again.
“Hum, I thought about that too, ‘To pray for time to go back, it's so unfair’. But as twisted as it is, I just can't stop reading. Maybe I'll be surprised”.
“Who’s that god that answers at the first call? That's a real surprise. I'd like to meet him”, that was a slip. My throat tightened and by no means I expected how broken I actually sounded.
Her arms held me closer. When she pressed her lips against my forehead, a sob almost broke through every wall I had built.
“Me too”.
Stop being like this. Don't hold me, don't carry me somewhere calm, don't kiss me so softly. Stop making me feel so small! I don't want the sun, I don't want the breeze, I don't want clouds, or words, or songs, or flowers; I don't want any of it!!
“Shh… it's okay, I've got you”.
#jjk x reader#jjk geto#jjk suguru#jjk fanfic#jjk geto suguru#jjk suguru geto#jjk angst#jjk#jujutsu geto#jujutsu suguru#jujutsu angst#jujutsu sorcerer#jujutsu kaisen suguru#jujutsu kaisen geto#jujutsu kaisen angst#jujutsu kaisen comfort#tw depressing thoughts
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So far, has there been any sort of art technique or process you've tried that made you go "that was surprisingly easier/harder than I expected"?
Oh man, yea. So many things. Doing this comic has been a learning experience and a half because of all the textures and effects I have to do, most of which I figure out on the fly because I've either never done them before or I've never done them that many times before.
The first "surprisingly easy" effect I'd never succeeded at before was the scales on the Storm Drake in the interlude after chapter 6:
It's a Droplet particle brush used on two layers, one set to Multiply and the other to Screen. It produces a very easy texturing effect that works on everything from scales to sand to rock, making the surface look like it's catching the light in complicated ways. I used it again in Dainix's desert flashback in chapter 19 to make the sand look like it was catching the light.
I actually used a similar method to draw the background in the arena fight in chapter 12 - using a rounder particle brush, but the same combo of Multiply and Screen to produce a chaotic pattern that gave the illusion of a massive background crowd without making me hand-draw ten thousand tiny people.
This one was an effect that didn't surprise me and that I sadly had very little cause to replicate, but I LOVED the multicolored highlighting effect in Erin's chapter 6 flashback in the heart of the Storm. It ended up being very simple to do and it just looked SO pretty.
Changing the highlighting colors to just the cool-tones for this page just made me like it more.
When we hit Falst's intro arc and I had to draw about a million forested backgrounds, I decided to refine the process I'd used in the first few chapters, because I wasn't happy with those results:
Starting in chapter 8 I tried a lineless style for forested backgrounds, and it worked out better than I'd hoped. Not only did it produce a feeling of depth and shadow, I didn't even need to plug in my drawing tablet to do it - I could literally do these backgrounds with my trackpad and mouse, which was a huge timesave. Combined with a little experimental sunbeam stuff and these forest backgrounds ended up both shockingly simple to make and VERY nice to look at.
I used a similar technique for the soulcrystal in The Collector's lair - stacked Multiply and Add layers with nested rough shading patterns similar to the ones I used for foliage, but with more overlap to produce the effect of chaotically scattering light.
This was another no-drawing-tablet one, and I liked this texture so much that I willingly redrew it for the stinger in chapter 18 rather than copying the texture from the earlier chapter.
In terms of effects that took longer than I anticipated, Dainix's fully-realized Crucible form has been giving me trouble for literally as long as I've conceived of the comic. Drawing fire is already hard enough, but giving that fire a semi-solid, tangible form that was clearly readable as a humanoid figure was a HUGE pain in the ass. The head and arms were easy to design, but what to do with the bottom half was always a struggle, and beyond that I wasn't always sure how opaque to make him - real fire is a semi-translucent light source in constant motion with no clearly delineated edges, and if you draw it in a way that deviates from that too much it can make it feel less like fire. It took a while before I was happy with the color balance on him to make him suitably glowy without losing the internal detailing that made his expression readable.
Similarly time-consuming, working out how to do Vash's "nova mode" took some trial and error. I wanted to make it clearly visually distinct from Paladin light magic and regular fire magic, so I focused on trying to replicate the texture of the surface of a star, with sunspots and flares rather than licks of fire or sharp-edged lightsaber vibes. I'm happy with how it ended up, but if I recall correctly it took upwards of two days just getting all those glowy effects sorted out.
Then drawing the actual starfire blast was an even bigger pain, because again I didn't want it so glowy that it was completely unreadable. To be honest I'm still not sure if it worked.
This is a very recent one, but it took me a while to figure out an effect I was happy for to communicate "this place is really, really dark." I didn't settle on a blanket dusty purple desaturation layer until quite late, to sort of replicate what night vision supposedly looks like for animals that can see decently well in the dark. Lights and darks are preserved, but color isn't so much, and this way I wasn't way-overshadowing everything and making it impossible for US to see. And conveniently the actual effect is quite simple to do - it's just a universally gray layer at 50% opacity set to the "Saturation" combine mode, stacked with a universally dusty purple layer at 70% set to the "Color" combine mode. Very easy to add quickly and copy/paste across different pages.
There's probably more, but yea. Almost all of the "that was surprisingly difficult" effects either get easier with time or I figure out ways to simplify them and make them work in fewer layers. This is the really fun thing about a longform project like this - I keep finding new ways to challenge myself I'd never even thought of before.
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I'm curious why you relate to Lemony, I'd love to hear an elaboration
i'll try my best to explain why I find so much of myself in Lemony, but forgive me if I sound mad or something. I'm just going to ramble about this, no structure.
The first thing, really, that we ever learn about Lemony Snicket is that he has a duty to tell us the truth about a series of incidents, though they appear to be extremely detrimental to him to do so. He does it anyway. When I look at him, I see that he has no regard for himself, only the world around him. Meticulous to the very detail, dedicated to the last second, passionate to a boiling point underneath a front of witty disregard for practically everything.
He took it upon himself to write about the Baudelaire's experience as accurately as he could, because he couldn't stand by and watch the world move on when so many lives had been ruined. He doesn't really care that he could get killed in the process, or caught, or anything worse. He throws himself completely and wildly into this task of exposing what really happened to the Baudelaires. I'm not saying I relate to him because this was valiant - don't worry, I'm not that up my own arse. I relate to him because he is so book smart but actually completely stupid for not thinking that anyone loves or cares about him enough to be extremely hurt when he throws his life to the wind. I relate to his complete devotion to something that doesn't really need him. To something that stings as it reminds him of his past - Beatrice - while he clearly revels in that pain it brings back for him. He wants to ruin his own life. The answer is just why, really, and I don't think even he knows that. I'll touch on this a bit later tho.
Lemony is, as we know, forever in love with Beatrice. Even after she broke off their marriage, after she married someone else, after she died: he worships her completely, and he loves her, but at the same time I think this is because he is someone who genuinely loves being in unrequited love... bc he could move on from her. Easily. Anyone can move on eventually. But even after she is long, long gone he clings onto her through every aspect of his art (his books, his dedications) and his life (researching the Baudelaires even though they are her and Bertrand's, keeping her list of reasons she couldn't marry him, a lock of her hair, etc) and he does this because he wants to be in a tragic, unrequited love. I relate to that. What is it Donna Tarrt says - a morbid longing for the picturesque at all costs? To me that is Lemony. He wants to live in this dark constant of loneliness and tragedy because he thinks it's what suits him. It's a bit ridiculous and it's a bit heartbreaking.
Anyway, moving on. To be easier on him, I'll be kind - Lemony is someone who loves. Yes, maybe too much, maybe in a way that is unhealthy, but he genuinely loves. He loves Beatrice. He loves literature. He loves his siblings. He loves VFD as much as he hates it. He loves the Baudelaire children, even though they have nothing to do with him, and he loves, well, I dont know. He loves the world around him though he is morbid and unhappy about it all. I suppose he loves the horridness of it. Oh and of course, he loves pistachios. (Me too.)
I hope this answers your ask, even though I just explained that all like a complete lunatic. I'm a bit sleep deprived so forgive me for that. To summarise, Lemony is a self-sabotaging book-smart idiot who doesn't just run away from his responsibilities, he fakes his death and gives himself new ones. He loves like a dog but to the detriment of everything around him. Yeah. I just think he is fascinatingly layered and yet so painfully readable because he wears his heart on his sleeve and he doesn't even care. I hope that in another lifetime he was happy.
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Thank you for posting the timelapse! It shows your drawing process and it gave me an idea of how to make my own process easier!
Just... how do you stop yourself from shading at the beginning? I always start shading stuff in the middle of sketching and when I realize what I've done I already have enough done that it's a pain to delete it 😑
Also, can I say that I very much like how you draw rain? Mine looks like simple white lines and I haven't found yet how to make it look better. I think that you colour it depending on the light sources? I will try it next time 😄
Thanks again!
Ahhh I'm glad!! ♥
Hmm I don't think I've ever really had that problem because when I'm sketching I usually don't think about the shading yet? Like unless I do a quick thumbnail first to quickly lay out where I want to go with it I only start worrying about light sources and stuff once I've figured out everything else lmao I mean I do often add a few lines where I already know I'll add a shadow later, like underneath the jaw or where clothes overlap etc, or to define the features a bit more, but that's usually as far as it goes at that stage
But, having said that ... if it's such a pain for you to erase the shading and fight against doing something that seems to come naturally to you, have you considered embracing it as a part of your process and trying to work with it instead? There is no One True Way(TM) to do art and this could just be something that works for you, to shade as you go along? Maybe?
Oh haha thank you :D I think I used this brush and then just drew in various shades of lighter to darker grey on an overlay layer, to try and give it more depth
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ML Ficlet: Mental mayhem
Monarch has been defeated for months. And ever since, villains from all over the world decided that Paris was the new place to make a name for themselves.
Ladybug and Chat noir haven’t had too much of a problem. With Monarch bested, they have all the other miraculous and Allies they can trust. So if a villain with some strange power shows up, they have a hard counter ready.
At least, that was until Mastermind showed up.
A powerful Esper with psychic powers that allowed for telekinesis and other mind powers. Ladybug and Chat noir found themselves on the backfoot for the first time in a while. Even their Allies couldn’t assist much in capturing him. The clever villain always managed to escape, and became one of Paris’ top villains quickly.
Of course Mastermind wasn’t happy with this, his schemes were still foiled and he wasnt winning, simply escaping. He wanted something to turn the tides.
____________________________________________
It was quiet on patrol, it appeared to be a rare night of peace for the city of Paris.
“You know, you would think that this job would have gotten easier with Monarch gone.” The turtle hero pointed out. Carapace was assigned to patrol tonight.
“That was always the assumption. But at least tonight is peaceful.” The cat hero responded, putting his hands behind his head.
The two were patrolling thanks to the wheel of patrol that Ladybug made. Ladybug decided with the increase in villains, it would make more sense to have heroes patrol at night, having each night be a shift, changing it up each night to give everyone a social life and build camaraderie. Chat noir and/Ladybug would be on standby in most cases, but chat noir volunteered to take the place of one of the other heroes.
“Well we still have a few hours till sunrise, any suggestions on how to kill time?” Carapace questioned.
“We can always go for a coffee break. Get the caffeine levels up.” Chat noir suggested.
“Sounds like a… Heads up!”
Carapace moved in front of chat noir and used his shield to block a flying car.
“Guess there is still traffic at night.” Chat noir bantered.
“So it’s the turtle and cat that are out.” A sinister voice spat in annoyance.
“Hello to you to Cranium case.” Chat noir teased.
“It’s mastermind! You know that!” The villain shouted!
Chat noir chuckled at the reaction, until he realizes that Mastermind seemed to be in a new outfit, one that came with a metal helmet that covered his face. Something that was unusual for the eye mask enthusiast.
“Decides to wear headgear for a change. Smart move, makes it harder to kick your dome.” Carapace commented as he jumped to kick the levitating villain, only to be caught in the air with the villains psychic powers.
“Oh this isn’t ordinary headgear, this is a new invention. The Cerebral Accelerator! It enhances my abilities 1000 fold. I’ll even be able to peer into your mind and find your identities.” Mastermind gloated.
Chat noir realized the danger he was posing. He quickly pressed a button on his baton to let ladybug know it’s an emergency, before jumping at the villain.
Carapace struggled to break free, but his strength meant nothing to the mental restraint of the psychic villain.
Mastermind moved Carapace to intercept Chat noir’s attack, but chat noir knew the villains tactics and jumped past, avoiding his friend.
“Nice try, but you’ve become predictable.”
“Oh?”
Suddenly before chat noir could make contact, he was stuck in the air.
“Foolish cat, it is you that is predictable. Now let’s see what is in that head of yours.”
Chat noir felt a sharp pain in his head as Mastermind looked into his eyes. He could feel him trying to get inside his head.
Chat noir tried to resist but the enhancements on his powers made Mastermind too powerful.
“Let’s peel back the layers and see who you really are!” Mastermind exclaimed as he used his full power.
Chat noir tried resisting, screaming in pain as the psychic painfully tore into his brain like a psychic drill into dirt.
“I found it! You’re…”
Mastermind fell silent as his mind was flooded with the emotional anguish Chat noir had endured. Including the revelations he found out about his own Father, himself, and his family.
Mastermind’s telekinesis dropped, freeing Carapace and Chat noir, while he fell to the ground, convulsing.
Carapace turned to see the villain in a sorry state.
“What… what happened?”
Chat noir, who had been reliving his traumatic pain thanks to Mastermind, wiped his that were watering.
“Guess he overloaded his new device… he’s still breathing. Let’s get him some medical attention and let ladybug know what happened.”
Carapace looked at the cowering villain who was muttering in his convulsions “pain…”
Carapace was left wondering what the villain saw that left him in such a state.
“Are… are you okay dude?”
“I’m about how I am usually.”
That didn’t answer Carapace’s question
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leave no trace (2018)
feel free to change as needed.
this wood is really good for feathering.
it's really nice work.
need help?
it might take a while.
need a extra layer?
that's leaking a lot.
i'm hungry.
what's your favorite color?
get some sleep.
your appetite's growing. you're growing.
if it's still here when we get back, can i keep it?
they're all pretty much useless anyway.
is it dangerous to move the pawn in front of the king?
this is not a drill.
hands on the back of your head.
anything on you that's gonna hurt me?
we don't know who you are or what's going on.
can you tell me where you live?
i want you to tell me a little bit about your dad.
does he drink, or take pills, or anything that makes him act strange?
we're making dream boards. you cut out pictures that have to do with your future.
i want love in my future.
i wasn't where i was supposed to be, so they took me away. well, they don't think i was where i was supposed to be.
so you're homeless then?
they just don't understand that it was my home.
how do you read my answers? you think they're gonna mean a certain thing?
we don't have any record of you going to school.
i have nightmares and troubling dreams.
i think about things that are too bad to talk about.
things aren't turning out like the prophets said they would.
it seems like no one understands me.
we didn't need to be rescued.
it's not a crime to be unhoused.
she's a really wonderful kid. you did a really great job raising her.
i already got you started on some basic groceries, and here's a casserole for later.
a lot of people like to imagine they could live the way you were living.
they treat you alright?
it was hard not knowing how you were doing.
everything's different now.
we can still think our own thoughts.
there's something on my mind.
i saw a person, but i didn't think they saw me.
we're gonna make the best of it.
we could sleep out here. no one would notice.
i didn't mean to interrupt your breakfast.
say hello to someone that you may not have met before.
god created frogs.
oh, yeah? says who?
you dress up, show up on sunday, people will believe certain things about you.
you'll be able to look out the window while doing dishes.
sorry for making you worry about me.
i think it might be easier on us if we try to adapt.
what if the kids at school think i'm strange?
how important are their judgments?
a little confidence is always good.
thought you could use a phone.
i'll be back in a couple weeks.
pack your things. don't take anything you don't need.
did you even try?
they were gonna seperate us.
we shouldn't be here.
are you traveling alone? you look pretty young.
the bus is about to leave.
if i'm gonna give you a ride, i need to know a few things.
if you're in trouble here, now would be a good time to tell me.
i can't feel my toes.
gather some kindling before dark.
please, can we just take care of it ourselves?
pain lets you know you ain't dead yet.
there's a fair amount of soft tissue damage, so that's gonna take some time to heal.
here you are, dear.
i really need you to tell me if you're messed up with something or running from someone, because folks around here aren't looking to get mixed up in any trouble.
if you need anything else, you know where to find me, okay?
have you ever seen the inside of a beehive?
see, you don't need to be scared.
you leg isn't even healed all the way.
you almost died, and you would have if i hadn't found you.
the same thing that's wrong with you isn't wrong with me.
i know you would stay if you could.
#askbox meme#rp meme#inbox meme#inbox rp meme#roleplay#ask#ask meme#meme#roleplay meme#askbox#roleplay sentence meme#sentence starter meme#rp sentence meme#sentence starters#sentence meme#tumblr roleplay#tumblr rp#rp#rp inbox meme
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Superhero AU; Loss
When all is said and done, when the fires from Mick and Charles’ combined efforts finally die down, Sebastian knows. The crackling in his body dulls to an easy hum. He thinks he should feel bereft. It’s hard to, when Mick and Charles walk out alive—alive. Sebastian would’ve given up a lot more for that.
Mick he tells first. It’s easy, well. Easier. After Michael, after they both peeled back every layer of their outer shells and presented themselves to each other, raw and bloody and ugly, there are now no secrets between them. Mick takes his hands and kisses every one of his knuckles. Takes his time with it too, like he’s trying to press healing into Sebastian’s skin.
“How much more will I take from you?” Mick sounds wounded, like the loss is his own.
However much more you want, though he knows it’s not what Mick needs to hear at the moment. “I think I’ll enjoy farming,” he says instead, and it nudges Mick into a watery laugh. “You can come visit.”
With Charles, it’s harder.
Sebastian doesn’t know how to bring it up, so it surfaces only when it must, like a boil that needs lancing, as these things always do.
Charles is lining out the battle plan. Sebastian wants to beam at him with pride, even though he’s trying to pre-empt the inevitable fallout about to take place at the table. Six months ago Charles would’ve waited for the Ferrari strategists. Now, he says jump, and they all do.
“Sebastian will take the rear.”
Mick startles, looks up. It takes him two seconds to figure it out; Mick’s always been so clever. Ah. You didn’t tell Charles.
For a painful, suspended moment, Sebastian considers pushing his deadline. He could claim tiredness, maybe even sickness. Charles would be all over him in a heartbeat, would ground him without thinking twice. In his weakest moments, he always thinks of Michael. Sebastian ran from his problems and looked away from a fading supernova once. He can’t ever again.
“I can’t come on this mission,” he says carefully.
Charles tips his head, puzzled. “Why not?”
“Because,” he takes a breath, “I no longer have my powers.”
It’s quiet for a long, long time.
Charles says, voice low like a simmer, “How long?”
Sebastian scrubs at his eyes. “Since the fight.”
“Since you shielded us.” Charles is quick to comprehend. Sebastian can only hope he is quick to forgive. If he aims a fireball at Sebastian now, Sebastian will have nothing to defend with.
Mick clears his throat. “I’ll get us some water.”
Wait, Sebastian wants to say, because he doesn’t think he can stomach Charles staring at him like that, like it’s a betrayal. But Mick quells him with a deft look; You made this bed. Sebastian shrinks back into his seat like a child.
As soon as Mick’s gone, Charles says, “You told him.”
Sebastian closes his eyes briefly. “Yes.”
Fire in many ways is controlled by emotion. The ones who live the biggest, laugh the loudest, and love (and hurt) the hardest, always carry flame in their hands. Sebastian used to think it was a failing. Now he loves them all the more for it. Charles’ entire body is an open nerve of feeling. His eyes are shiny. The air in the room sears like an accusation, hotter than the surface of the sun. “Why didn’t you tell me?”
Sebastian considers his words. “I trained you.”
“Yes,” Charles says tightly, hurt drawn out like a wire. “So?”
“So I got used to you looking at me like. Like I was—”
Oh, Charles’ eyes are growing wider. He needs to get this out now or he’d never again be able to.
“Like I was something,” Sebastian finishes.
Charles’ jaw drops. “You thought,” he says slowly, as if speaking to a child, and since when did both Mick and him eclipse Sebastian so greatly, that’s something he’ll have to rejoice at later, “that I would stop looking at you like that. If you lost your powers?”
Sebastian swallows. He looks away. It’s answer enough.
“I’m so angry at you I can’t even speak,” Charles breathes. “I’m so. You’re so. You’re so fucking stupid, Seb. You’re so stupid. I’m so angry, and you’re so stupid.”
“Why are you crying,” Sebastian says dumbly, but before he can even react, Charles is kneeling before him on one knee, and taking both his hands.
In a flash, Sebastian realizes why the three of them will circle each other in an infinite loop until the end of time, powers or no. Sebastian will always look to them as his redemption, his legacy. They will always look to him as their king.
“You could lose everything and I would still see you the same,” Charles says fiercely, sounding as if he were scorching a vow into the earth.
“Charles,” Sebastian is crying too. “Please, get up.”
“Not until you tell me you understand.”
“I understand,” Sebastian croaks. He replays the fight in his head and what he sacrificed for Mick and Charles, and comes to the conclusion he will do so again and again and again. “Now get up.”
Charles does. “Don’t think I’ve forgiven you. I’m still so angry I could spit fire.”
Mick comes back with water. It’s perfect timing. Sebastian laughs until his ribs hurt. Charles doesn’t let go.
#athy texts#sebchal#smick#sebmickchal#fanfic#rpf#superhero au#none of this is in chronological order#but in any case
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Ira Deorum
WIP Prologue for longer fic | Fandom: BG3 | CW: Mildly implied child neglect.
Trying to actually write my dumb little BG3 Protag fanfic. 😭 Idk how far I'll get but i needed a place to store this that was easier than google docs lmao.
Bards and poets alike - the egocentric windbags that they are - have often said, ‘Home is the first grave’.
Aphrodite walks down a dirt and clay road - one she hoped she’d never have to set foot on again - and tries to put the saying out of her mind.
Red road dust licks at her heels. It’s clumped along the straps of her sandals, adding new grit with every step for the last several miles. The hem of her skirt is similarly soiled, clay and linen tangled together, swishing around her ankles sad and deflated.
Half-buried before she’s even reached the doorstep.
By the time the farmhouse comes into view, her tail drags across the ground. It carves little furrows, kicking up more dirt; covering the vibrant purple of her skin with a layer of rusty brown. It hooks on stones and pebbles and she lets it. A yoke she must drag forward. Feeling less like a Tiefling and more like a workhorse with every step.
No one greets her, not when the steps groan loudly at her weight. Not even when the door swings open on tired hinges, with a protesting creak.
Her mother stands in the kitchen, in the same spot she always has, as if she’d never left it in all those years. Sorting beans with quick hands and a tired air.
“Oh,” She startles when seeing her. Bringing a hand up to her chest and letting loose a dramatic sigh. “You gave me a fright there, we weren’t expecting you till tomorrow.”
“I walk fast,” Aphrodite says, doing what she must. Laying her pack down on a nearby chair and folding her mother into a hug.
She’s just a small as she was last time. Fitting neatly into the space at Aphrodite’s shoulder, hands creased and rough as they fiddle with her blouse, fastidiously tugging at garments that are still well in their place.
Her mother’s complexion is of a similar color, if faded by time and sun. Not an eye catching, violent purple, that Aphrodite takes pain to contrast against fine silks and glittering metals.
Her coloration is almost dun. A muddy violet, chapped and wind worn, one that looks dull even against Aphrodite’s third best traveling cloak. The one made of sensible, dark brown wool. The kind that wont offend her parents with its excess. It’s only concessions to her tastes being the scarlet flowers one of the acrobats in her caravan had embroidered around the hood.
Everything in the farmhouse is muted and weathered. The hug is too, even if Aphrodite lingers out of the vague sense that this is what she owes, as a daughter. Whether she wants to give it or not.
They break away after long enough has passed. Counting the beats in her head until she can unwind her mothers arms, step out of their reach with pity and gentleness and relief.
“In any case, we’re always glad to have you.” Her mother says, going back to her beans with a gentle pat to her shoulder. “I could always use the help. You know how they are.”
“Hard to forget.” She says, sunny; with a drawling trill to her undertone.
Aphrodite’s sarcasm is deftly ignored. The shelled beans falling into the container in little stuttered taps, like rain on a tin roof. Echoes that fill the awkward silence.
“It’s worse than any of the others I’ve had.” Her mother offers. “You’re welcome to try if you feel that confident. He’ll be in the bedroom. It’s a task getting him to come out some days.”
“Really?” She can’t help but needle a bit. “A seasoned veteran like you, done in by a single child?”
“I said it to that priest so he could write it down for me in our letter. And I’ll say to you again now. He’s an odd one. There’s something off about that boy.”
Aphrodite hums, a soothing two tone sound she uses on particularly uppity clients. Falling into the usual song and dance, an worn groove of Deflect, De-escalate and Disengage.
“Why don’t you show me where he is? I’ll see what I can do while you finish up.”
Her mother shoots her a particularly nasty and tired look. One that says that Aphrodite knows exactly where the bedrooms are located and should need no guide.
She doesn't back down, but rolls her eyes. Leaning against the solid oak dining table. One of the few pieces of furniture that doesn't look like it’s old enough to have seen the second sundering. The one that she sent them money for, when their last table broke.
“It’s five steps down the hall, it’s not going to kill you.” She cajoles with a nasty and tired look of her own. “He’s - what? - three, he’d probably be more worried if a stranger came in without him knowing who they are.”
She gets her way in the end. Even if the acquiescence comes with a disgusted sigh. Her guide stomping down the hallway with ill grace.
The door to the third bedroom is thrown open with little fanfare. When Aphrodite steps through, it’s like swimming against a current of Déjà vu. Old memories superimposed against the current floor plan.
It looks different now than when she was last here. Housing one child instead of several. None of the triplets’ effects randomly clutter the floor. There aren’t lutes and lyres and badly whittled flutes to serve as a tripping hazard to unwary visitors. But parts of it are still same in the end.
Faded curtains, a rickety pallet bed. An endless pile of mended blankets to ward off the chill.
“I’m afraid I offended him by trying to get him into a change of clothes this morning. He’s refused to come out since then.” Her mother - their mother - gives another deep exhale. A new kind of weariness in her tone, surprising after eight children. But maybe it shouldn’t be, if one considers what little time she had actually spent with them.
“You’re welcome to try your hand at it,” She offers with a shake of her head, heading back to the kitchen. Not remembering or not caring that she had asked for an introduction.
Aphrodite shuts the door quietly behind her. Cutting off escape routes. Intimately familiar with which hiding spots a small child might favor.
She doesn’t find him in the chest of drawers, or behind the shabby little dresser in the corner. But the creak of a floorboard alerts her to her quarry. Taking pains to move slowly, she steps closer to the bed, sinks to her knees and shuffles under it as best as she can.
He’s wedged against the wall, pillbugged into a stiff little shape. Horns dusted with all the cobwebs that accumulate near the edge of the baseboards, where no one ever sweeps.
“Hello there,” She greets him, taking pains to keep her voice soft and pleasant.
Her brother doesn’t respond. Watching, waiting. With black sclera and bright pupils, a blazing orange that hearkened back to the eternal fires of Nessus.
Not even the shadows can hide the ridiculous coloration of the rest of him. As pink as she is purple, contrasting sharply against the cream linens and homey ginghams that cover their home.
“Well,” She says dryly, not bothered yet by his lack of response. “At least you got some of my good looks.”
“Fate has preserved you from looking like father, in any case,” Aphrodite whispers conspiratorially, knowing children love nothing more than being included in a good gossip session. “Cherry red is very passé I’m afraid.”
He doesn’t respond. But she can see his nails digging gouges into the wood. Still, tense, quiet.
Aphrodite switches tracks. It's the mark of a good conman, knowing when tailor your approach to the current audience.
“My name’s Aphrodite. I’m one of your sisters. Why don’t you come with me, and we can get you something to eat.”
She holds out her hand, dusty with the filth that accumulates underneath a bed. Prepared to wait for as long as it takes.
Which is a while, in the end. A long, expectant silence. Broken only by the roosters crowing outside.
“I promise I won’t make you change clothes.” She whispers conspiratorially. Playing her trump card.
Basking in the success of the moment. When that little hand folds into hers, and lets itself be shuffled out from underneath the bed, cobwebs and all.
His name is Adrammael. A name that is as predictably long and awkward as all of his other sibling’s names. To speak nothing of her own.
Their parents don’t even have the grace to remember which one of them came up with it.
“It’s practically child abuse to make you write that out, when you start learning your letters.” She says to him one evening. When they both sit inside the run, warming themselves in the sun.
“You look more like a Dram to me.” Aphrodite decides with firm certainty.
If Dram has any opinions on the subject, he doesn’t care to share them. Preoccupied with burying his face into one of the chickens that he’s coerced into sitting in his lap. Making one of those odd guttural, humming noises he seems so fond of, muffled by a mouthful of feathers.
Aphrodite would rather swallow a particularly hot coal than admit to her mother being right about anything, but in the privacy of her mind, she is forced to admit. There really is something off about that boy.
Dram takes to her easily enough despite that.
She takes to him too, despite the myriad of difficulties that have stopped their parents from doing the same.
Chief among them being that he doesn’t speak yet. No matter what sort of threat or bribe he’s faced with.
Dram does not speak, even though he’s of the age to. But to everyone’s annoyance - even hers - he has no problem with screaming. He screams when he’s angry and when he’s upset and when they make him wear certain articles of clothing.
He’ll run away if the dinner contains certain vegetables he’s not too fond of. Crawl under the table to hide when they have visitors. Press his hands to his ears and start up a slew of truly concerning vocalizations if he’s forced into a situation that isn’t to his liking.
He’s a terrible handful of a child - despite having practically raised her seven other siblings, possessing more than enough experience with kids of his age - and there are times where Aphrodite fantasizes about going back to her old caravan. Letting her parents sort this one out by themselves. Learn the consequences of not using any kind of protection for once in their lives.
It’s a beautiful fantasy. If one that falls apart pretty quickly.
Crumbling to pieces a little more every time she wakes up and finds him in her room yet again. Waiting to follow her around the house from dawn to dusk. Trailing after her skirts with a solemn stare that seems out of place on his round, little face.
The thrill of it wears down sooner than she thought. Banished completely when she gets him to sound out a word or two after trying for weeks on end. Realizing that it’s not that he can’t, but that he doesn’t want to.
The way he doesn’t want to try yams and the way he doesn’t want to be around their father any more than she does. Scurrying under furniture when he enters the room. The tip of his tail poking out from his hiding places like an over sized rat.
It doesn’t help that her parent’s fall back into old routines easily enough.
Aphrodite’s here after all. No need to look after your own child once the free labor has arrived.
A resentment that grows and festers. Bubbling over when she sees him scoot a stool next to the cabinets one afternoon. Clambering up to the counter in the stumbling, uncoordinated way children of that size navigate the world.
Clumsy, but practiced enough to manage on his own.
A child who had learned to get into the pantry to feed itself, since her parents were still in bed and she hadn’t thought to offer him lunch yet.
Aphrodite watches him gnaw on slightly stale bread. Letting a solid century of grievances darken her thoughts and spur on her pettiness.
Home may be the first grave, but she's not very inclined to bury the hatchet alongside herself.
“Dram,” She says carefully, setting him down from the counter. Reaching for that foreign power that perches on the back of her mind and delights in her rash decisions.
“How would you like to go on a trip with me?”
Dram doesn’t say anything. Keeps working on his snack with single-minded determination.
But his hand winds itself into the fabrics of her skirt easily enough. Tail twining around hers, more at ease with Aphrodite than he is with anyone else. Despite how little time she’s spent with him in comparison to their parents. Barely six weeks, by the time she thinks to start scheming.
“I think you’ll have fun.” Aphrodite pats his head, knowing he won’t mind too much in the end.
“I certainly won’t. Considering how I’ll have to give up most of my social life.”
She sighs dramatically - heartfelt and whiny - in a way she feels that befits someone going through great sacrifice. Letting it all out before she’s forced to move on more actionable concerns.
“But first, we need to eliminate the chance of any surprises of this kind happening again.” Aphrodite relishes the thought. Urging him towards the run. Letting him play with the chickens while she drafts an amendment to a particularly tricky contract, and tries to puzzle out the worth of a foreign body part.
Fae did have an unsettling lust for such things. One which she planned to exploit in her favor.
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I repainted my 3D-artist-resin-cast 1:6 scale Leon S. Kennedy head sculpt, for the millionth time! DX I knew I was going to do so eventually; I was just hoping to not f-up again. Which, I kind of think I might have done, again! Fortunately, I feel like I have discovered a way to make him look more accurate, without being wasteful (of MSC, which is toxic, expensive and a pain in the gut to get). I always considered watching a tutorial or two, about how to paint realistic 1:6 action figures, since way back in the day when 1:6 started getting more realistic looking head sculpts and facial paint apps. I even attempted adding pigmented skin texture to some of my DIM Minimee. However, I was doing that with pastels, with small amounts of acrylic paint for just the line work. Which can be heavy and get really “make-up-like’ for my taste. That’s why I thought why not watch a tutorial now, since I was also looking for tutorials on how to gloss eyes properly. I found it’s pretty much what I’ve been doing (the glossing the eyes part), but my terrible shaky hands are huge handicap, that I’ll probably always mess that up.
The painting is so much easier than anything, but it does take a million watered down layers. I don’t know if should be getting model-grade paints, instead of using my artist-grade Liquitex, which might be too saturated and viscous for this kind of paint work? I don’t know, the artist whose tutorial I saw used only model-grade paints, so I am not certain. From the little bit I found on google searches, it seems any acrylic paint will work but the model-grade paints are more like water, than what Liquitex is like and going from the video, they are a lot less saturated/pigmented as well. Oh well, I’ll settle for what I have for now.
Regardless, I was able to get my Leon to look somewhat closer to what I always envisioned him looking like. I’m not a professional by any stretch of the imagination, and not even remotely good at this yet, but I hope that with the little bit I was able to learn, I’ll improve the next time I try repainting him again. I am kind of tempted to get more 1:6 action figures heads to attempt repainting, however, I am not into real people and those are the only heads that are popular in the 1:6 genre of figures. That or 3D printed unlicensed massed produced heads, which I am not okay with. It’s one thing to commission an individual to make a fan-art version for a small number of people, and another to mass produce every single character from a single brand’s licenses (squareenixfinalfantasycharacters), without even blinking. DX
I am fine with repainting this head as many times as it takes, as I have mentioned before, I just wish I didn’t suck as much at tiny miniature work. So that I could get to the point I will feel satisfied with him, sooner. I took a million photos, so I do believe I like him a lot better already! I can’t wait until I can feel like trying again! Which will probably be sooner than later, you never know when you’ll kick the bucket and that’ll be that! Lol! (: My cell phone that is older than dust, but takes “nicer” photos was dying, so I took most of these with my newer cell phone that takes sharper photos, but less pleasant to the eyes (IMHO). The last two were taken with my old-cell phone, I feel they show the texture a lot better. Although he’s not quite as tomato red, IRL.
He’s not wearing his black shirt that came with this set because I am planning on attempting to recreate the game’s version of the 5.11 tactical shirt that HT made. I am also not wanting to have to remove any stains on the body, as it is partially painted on the upper torso. This body is the Damtoys RE2R Leon’s body, so it’s pretty large, but the head is so big, it makes it look tiny....Lol! I am still angry that the head sculpt was made to be so large. From some angles, you can even see a huge gap at the nape of the neck, because the head is so freaking massive. T__T;;
#LeonS.Kennedy#LeonSKennedy#LeonScottKennedy#LeonKennedy#RE4#OGRE4#ResidentEvil4#Biohazard4#1:6actionfigure#ActionFigure#OnesixthScale#Customized#Repainted#HeadSculpt#ResinCast#3Dprinted#Photography#Toy#ScaledFigure#Collectible#Videogame#SurvialHorror
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FFXIVWrite2022 11: The Morning After
Morpheus wakes up and doesn’t recognize where he is, at first.
Or why there’s a weight on him.
Ah, yes, The Stars of Anyder. Despite the Warning, he had tried it. Emet-Selch has used his magic to split it into four without disturbing the layers.
After that, there had been the wine. Was it two or three bottles they had split after that?
And then...
Ah, yes, they went to Hythlodaeus’s place. Apparently Teri doesn’t own their own flat, with how rarely they find themselves here.
“Well, I apologized to Gaia and Artemis about not keeping my promise of another breakfast, but I can start doing it here instead, even if you two are my brother and friend, and not my partners.”
Yes, yes, Teri had alluded to some sort of ritual with Loghrif and Mitron, and breakfa--
Did Teri imply something there. He tries to push himself up. “I, uh...” He clutches his head in pain for a moment but when he opens his eyes, Terpsichore is their usual cheery self, eyes sparkling with mischief.
“I still don’t know how you manage to avoid a hangover on that, Kore,” the lump beside him says.
The Chief of the--
Hythlodaeus? They were next to each other? That is not a memory he has. Did they fall asleep together? Was there more? Ugh, he hopes there isn’t.
Also, Hythlodaeus seems far easier to say in his mind now than it did when he kept hearing it last night.
“I don’t know,” Teri says. “About the alcohol thing. I simply have a greater tolerance. A full one can give me a hangover the next day, not your week-long ones you claim you get.” They turn their attention to Morpheus. “And you seem confused, Morpheus.”
“Your memory must be better than mine. Did anything happen last night? After we came back. I have some memory of Creation’s Edge, but not after we...”
“Not to my knowledge. Unless Hythlodaeus and you can be silent or charm the walls, I didn’t hear anything. I just know he offered his bed and you accepted. Something about how he loved how blue your eyes were and wanted to look at them up close.”
“I don’t think I ever mastered that charm, no matter how much you simplified it,” Hythlodaeus says. He looks to Morpheus.
Gods, his eyes are gorgeous. The color of wisteria flowers, with the sharpest contrast and glow he’s ever seen. Even Teri’s feels blurred compared to his.
Oh, it’s a question. “No. I don’t care for silence charms, at least, not for the purposes implied.” Then again, it had been a long time since he’s... desired such.
“You two are quite attractive together. And if I have to hear Hyth moan about how the Ioun master friend I have has the loveliest hair, and now eyes, one more time, I will cast a silence charm so I can scream as loud as I wish. While transformed.”
Hyth interrupts. “Ah, you mentioned your usual routine with Loghrif, correct? I always wanted to try those vitis pancakes you mentioned perfecting.”
“Cyanococcus, today. You don’t have vitis.” Teri walks out, only to return with two plates on a tray. “I infused the drinks with a spell to help with hangovers. Probably lighter than you two would like, but there’s only so much I can do if I split it with two.”
With that, Teri closes the door behind them.
“You... ah, talk about me?”
“You’re attractive,” Hythlodaeus says. “I told you that before, when Kore called that all-hands. When I hadn’t the time to charm my robes my favorite color.”
“When I was part of the Chthonic Horns. It seems you didn’t realize it was me and...”
“Found you attractive again? I suppose I have a type. Clever, handsome. Not too tall, but not too short. And you?”
“It, ah, wasn’t until then. I hadn’t noticed you. Not before. But you are, ah... what I also...”
“Want to try things, then?” His voice is smooth. “I won’t go farther than you desire, Morpheus, but I have missed the time when I hadn’t needed to worry why someone desires me. if someone thinks seducing the man who makes the final decision may help get through at least a few stages, if not an approval.”
“Did it ever work?”
Hythlodaeus laughs. “By the underworld, of course it didn’t. Often, I hadn’t known it was a petitioner until after had I accepted the advances, but I take my position seriously, and a construct must at least function as intended. Though Hades may tell you that I’ve been a bit too fond of selachimorpha of late. None of their creators attempted such.”
“I have nothing to send to the Bureau of the Architect,” Morpheus says. “Nothing concrete, at least. Perhaps some papers I wish to publish, but no concepts.”
Hythlodaeus kisses him. It’s soft, a promise. “Maybe an exception, if only because you are very, very cute.”
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9, 13, 58, 61, 62, 73 ?
😊💛💖
9: Describe your perfect mate
Someone who is smart, patient, compassionate, understanding, non-judgemental. Someone who knows themselves well and who knows what they want. Someone who can think deeply about complex concepts, but who can also be silly and ridiculous. Someone who is quirky and maybe a bit eccentric, but also knows how to stay grounded when it's appropriate. Someone who has something new to show me and finds joy in sharing it with me. Someone who can express themselves well and make their thoughts and feelings clear. Someone who loves sex and isn't shy about it. Someone who gives love and affection easily. Someone who makes it clear they want me in their life.
Also, absolutely stunning eyes. I wanna feel like I'm descending into some kind of tripped out fantasy realm whenever she looks at me. I want to see the void and I want to see the stars when we make eye contact. When I catch her gaze I want to feel like I've discovered a secret humans were never meant to know, but it's too late to back out now. I want to be captivated and mesmerized and completely disarmed in her sight. I want her to make me feel like she unravels the very fiber of my being with but a simple flick of the eye.
How did I just write an entire paragraph about your eyes lol
13: Do you get jealous easily?
I'll say no, but it also depends on context. It's about what our dynamic is and how my partner treats me. I will not say I'm immune to jealousy. But to get jealous I would have to feel like I'm not being treated fairly, or that I'm being used, like my potential partner is flippant with their affections and not being clear with me where we stand while also flaunting the fact that they are putting the moves on someone else. But that's what I've found to be really freeing about the idea of polyamory, that I can have a partner that will continue to choose me even when they have also chosen others. To feel like I'm just as important as anyone else (which obviously takes work and doesn't just happen on its own, but we are assuming the relationship is a good healthy one here). Then it's much easier to not be jealous.
58: What are five ways to win your heart?
Make me feel safe. I have a lot of insecurities left over from past experiences so I can sometimes be a bit guarded. But if you make me feel safe enough to drop that guard, I will like you a lot.
Make your feelings clear. I don't want to have to guess about the way someone feels about me. And I'm not always good at picking up on cues. I need verbiage.
Be consistent. I've got a lot of pain left over from people with fickle feelings. Show me and remind me that your interest in me is clear and will not blow away with the wind.
Give me passion. Make me feel like a prize. When you notice me struggling with self-doubt, reassure me that you want me because I'm oh so very wantable.
Go deeper than the surface. I hate to use the Shrek metaphor but I'm an onion. I have a lot of layers. I need someone who wants to cut through them all and welcomes the tears that may follow (probably my tears from being Seen lol).
61: What is the first thing you notice in someone?
Physically, I'm going to have to be cliché and say eyes 😂 Or hair maybe.
For personality, something that makes me think I might be compatible with someone would be earnestness. Just how ready are you to be open and honest about your feelings?
62: What is the sexiest thing someone could ever do for/to you?
Honestly, talk me through an orgasm while I'm fucking them. Just like, tell me you want it. Make me feel like it's something you need from me. Hold onto me and say "cum for me" when I'm at climax. Just typing it out is causing movement in my underwear 😅
73: What’s something sweet you’d like someone to do for you?
Honestly just tell me you want to spend time with me. I've never been on a romantic date though. So I'd love to be taken on a date.
Thank you so much for these lovely questions Stardust 😊♥️💜💛💖
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Starting to clean out the junk in the basement. It’s easier to identify what to keep, which is the CM36 discussion: that we get a parity or exception test by stating what is Not a Thing. You can see it in gs pretty clearly: take CM100 and mark off CM36, and then shift the bits around to make another CM36, meaning you also have CM28. You have two CM36’s and you combine each to CM28 to see which makes a Thing. That is, they have to fit to the CM64 that fits as CM64 descending toward that count. In other, simpler words, they have to make a decent enough version of the Thing that’s wanted.
You see how competition results when the actual best solution is cooperative competition, meaning a competition to improve each other so you both win. Oh, I see: the results ascending tend to the bad, because they emphasize competition to make what fits next, while the results descending tend to the good because they emphasize cooperation to make what fits next.
And that is the fundamental change we want to instill. A mathematically better way of acting in which solutions descend from ideal cooperation instead of arising from ideal competition. That doesn’t even mean socialism, at least for large parts of the economy. Example is how groups, families, towns, are encouraged to invest in business, like specializing in a useful niche. That develops clusters.
It’s 17 July 2023, and I found a stack of old notebooks, including an attempt to write this out from 1999, and I was stunned to find it was correct. I even found a discussion of renormalization in which I said I don’t know how to say this and then waved my hands about layers and views. But now, those are proven, which explicitly took you to do with me. In DC&R, in the construction of gs, and of Euclidian space, which we define as the intersection between D3-4 and D4-3 Space, which you can see is ascending and descending over a D4 Space, which is the big grid square in the sky and the little one vanishing to measure 0 in your empty pocket. Religious stories and math go hand-in-hand, and the more we demonstrate that, the more clearly the message can be heard for then they can hear it as they hear their own version of the Word.
Example: when we draw the typical Triangular fD, think of the Boundary represented by that 1-0Segment dividing line. It’s part of an n-gon and the characteristics within that 1-0Segment are within each 1-0Segment as those descend, meaning they inherit. Look at Hexagonal: you have 2 Pathways, which means you can see them as opposite paths, meaning you can see one as good and one as evil. Think about this at your level: you have a whole bunch of these Hexagons calculating good or bad, bad or good, and they come out to a total that fits the situation you’re in, and the experiences you’ve had, so you can exercise your capabilities, except that means all the good and bad are tangled together and it’s too much for people to untangle them when they don’t have the basic algorithms which thoughts follow.
What is a thought’s gravity? It means the thought is attracted to, meaning it’s oriented at, meaning a Pathway has appeared which points at. If you’re a photon, your path counts in one direction too fast for it to hit the object it points at. Isn’t that a simple demonstration of xK and yK? I’m not sure. What’s going on? Points at, but goes by means two directions, meaning orthogonal, which then allows all sorts of other paths.
This explains transient popularity, especially the new hot thing, as well as issues like semantic customary battles where those more in the know demarcate themselves from those who are less pure, less hip, less in the loop, less a taste maker. You create a cooperative environment.
I need to get this out, and then go for a walk because I’m hearing a lot of negatives, like how my life is going to turn into shit and I can’t stop that from happening, and that it isn’t fun to feel so much pressure and to go through even more pain in a lifetime filled with pains, and to function through that, to take that and make it positive. Oh, to make it positive means to fit to the descending. I’m seeing this as: imagine a quadrant, with a lightly drawn circle over it somehow, just to indicate there’s a path around, and then ring the bell on the szK in ++, wait until the path around completes, which gets very complicated but keep it simple now, and that rings the bell again, meaning there’s a counting of that bell ringing, the bell tolls for thee, which is not a thought you want to have when you’re down. You see that? When there’s a rotation, a CR, this makes a pole over which that CR occurs, and that inserts at the Bip.
I’m sorry if this is getting out of order, but I’m seeing a lot today. So when the pole inserts at the Bip that is a composition of gs(n) and gs(m), which are the Irreducible forms of gs. See? Another Irreducible is the rotation of the gs to make 8 Ends, which Regularizes into an Octagon. Does that simplicity work for Triangular? Yes of course: the pathways are handed. That’s why 5 matters so much. You have to explain that for me. (I used to feel like a fool for writing stuff like that, but not anymore.)
Okay, Say you remove an HG, like in your usual image where it’s an I(x), meaning the visible axis is xK. Then it’s obvious that a choice of which is the 5 is a choice of sides, and thus of hands. You can even see why 9 out of 10 for right verus left: it’s a natural result of SBE3+1 or rather (1+(SBE3)+1), because this attaches that 1/10th to the 9 of SBE3 to make the whole. The natural part is that it helps to have all those hands available to work together, and that would be equally true if the left were 9 (and then the left would be called right).
I probably forgot to say this, but you can see a parity check arise in these descriptions. In the image above of a rough circle, think Boundary: it’s a Boundary check that converts into an End check. This is a really good application of a Riemann sphere because it gives you that Attachment potential at infinity. This is exact because the Riemann pole there is ideal so it maps to very big and small.
Did I finish renormalization? So, DC&R means you get Ends, and those Ends contain the DC&R to that End, so renormalizing is approriate when the End connects to the other Ends along the Pathway. In other words, the 1Space is correct, the parameters selected make sense, and thus the 0Space is measured correctly and can be substituted appropriately. I’m really seeing the connection to Feynman diagrams.
And of course I looked back in time to the Taylor series and it should now be obvious why that works: the only possibility is gs, is DC&R, especially when you think about ‘infinitessimal’ quantities. We use gs process to generate those scales. It’s in the power of 10, in the count of 1 and 0, and indeed in every base because we generate bases and the idea of a basis is our construction.
You see, that gets really heavy because that goes back to the idea that this is all not a simulation but an experiment, an attempt to connect over the lines that divide. An attempt to join the Irreducibles so they can function better.
Here, I thought I’d changed and become more mature, meaning less prone to what I used to think must be flights of fancy, if not outright delusions. Yes, I remember saying I needed to give myself to my delusions. But all the math is what? What is abstraction but a delusion? How are phantoms created? Why do we imagine them? Why do we become enraged? Take that last: rage and food go together in a way I think is interesting, which means I haven’t heard this before to my knowledge, that rage expresses the retaliatory urge which expresses the need for food. Like get out of my way, I’m getting that milk. So rage is abated, not satiated by food, and it tends to reinforce. That’s why the idea of food is love has such appeal: the cutting, hacking, searing, roasting, killing inherent in food Triangulates with rage for needed nourishment. So make an fD of you with love, like mom or your favorite frozen pizza that pretends to be like family, as the End over the 1-0Segment of nourishment and food. Where is rage? Make a different fD, one orthogonal, to the one with the love End, one about I want more, I need more, I take more. This obviously applies to more than food. The orthogonality is that which is given by nature or by choice to that which is taken by nature or by choice. So love given out of nature translates into behaviors that can look the same, like sex, but are impositions, assaults, claims, and all those forms of take. So receive and take.
This is a cool reason why f1-3: the 3fD are one of the Pathways in Hexagonal. So you can imagine a Hexagon in I(x), then take the HG, take one of those, which means you’re selecting that hand, and that’s the 1, while the 3 is the other side to that hand, meaning not the converse but whatever is the other side, meaning it can be domain restricted, like there are this many cards left. Imagine this running both directions and you see the SBE3+1 generate: take the 3, which extend out of the Hexagon to fD, and they become 3gs, which means the side of SBE3. So this generates 10 by picking the hand of the bottom bT of the central HG of an I(x) Hexagon, and converting the 3fD on the other side of the xK into gs. That squares, so we have SBE3 along with the 1, which really describes counting to 10 in more detail. The 4th gs is the one generated below the xK.
I also see this as 10+3, which is silly sounding, but I mean SBE3+1 and then +SBE. Think about it: we generate a 3 on each side so the step of squaring to SBE3 is right there. That means if you take the SBE3 from one side and the SBE from the other, you get 13, which is a problem I’ve been trying to solve since I started playing with counting like this. I guess it’s time hath arrived.
Back to parity check: you can see it in the paragraph above. Read the hand. Talk to the hand. Sniff the hand. Feel the hand.
I can scarce believe what was done today.
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Life Update 2022
It’s been awhile, I totally missed 2021 update. Hi.
I always say that don’t I? “It’s been awhile”, and I always say that I always say that, us humans are creatures of habits after all.
It’s almost end of November when I am writing this, that’s at least 11 months worth of updates but I’m going to summarize it here just for record purposes.
I’ve left Nestle. I’ve been to BAT for 7 months and now I am in Mondelez. That’s career wise, experience wise it was a lot of ups and downs. BAT felt like a fever dream to me, did it really happen? What came out of it? I think I have yet to digest. But one thing about me and blogging and writing is that I will never sugarcoat things so here goes nothing.
When I left Nestle my motivation was to leave a toxic boss environment, not my direct line manager but more on the higher ups, I was also so done with a mundane work life, even though my closest friends are still there whom I love dearly and still talk to to this day. But, a workplace is not a social space for me, I learned that the hard way and I don’t know if I am only saying this because I am jaded but it sure does feel like a lesson for me get through my thick skull.
I left my ‘home’ my ‘nest’ and my comfort zone, hoping for something new, something different that will grow me as a person. It was a painful process.
I didn’t expect seeking growth to be painful, I’ve always romanticized growth and change and it will be this amazing thing that will always elevate my life.
It wasn’t.
I was thrusted into such an uncomfortable environment that forced me to figure out what I want in life, what I value and what are my stance on certain behaviour and abuse. It broke me down mentally and physically for sure but at the same time I was also gaining so much more.
Looking back at it now it was defintely a very traumatic experience that I had to endure and of course it would be better if I didn’t have to go through it but at the same time I view it as a chapter to colour my book.
When I left, I had a one month break. To say that it was the best one month break would be lying because I do live in fear of not having anything to fall back into. However, I already secured a job two days after my last day at BAT. I’ve never doubted my ability to secure a job, nor my value in this capilistic world. People would always need manpower to move this huge machine and I can be a very good capitalism slave.
Grateful.
Of course change is always like a growing pain, it gets easier but also harder. I am very closed off to my colleagues now. I would say I’ve grown very jaded and without a sense of purpose for the past two years.
Oh, yes. The pandemic.
That’s another update.
We went through a pandemic and I went from being so full of life and adventure to being completely bogged down and being such a nihilist. I genuinely do not think that human have purpose, let alone lil old me. Anyway, I am going off the tangent now. I did find some sense of purpose when I started lifting weights, eating healthy, taking care of my financial in mid of 2021. I always look back to that period of time in my life and longing to have it back as if I was not already that person, as if it was not me and I’m idolizing her like how we often do with influencers we see on social media.
But I am her. Yes, present tense. I am still her.
I am trying to get the habit back, and morph into the person that I really am in all these layers of jadedness and numbness.
I am trying to find the beauty in vulnerability again, trying to find a sense of purpose. I will write about that in a separate post, this will mainly be updates.
My mom also got really sick in Nov 2021, she was discharged in Jan of 2022, she’s doing so much better now. My youngest brother got accepted into the Police Force. My middle brother is getting married next year, he is also a police now living in Sarawak.
I am still with Safwan, and we have two cats Miso and Sushi, they’re rascals, such weirdos.
I also weigh 83kg now which is the heaviest I’ve ever been, but I have better style and can afford my actual taste in clothing now. Gained all those weight most likely due to hormones and changes in lifestyle ever since I stopped my healthy habits in Oct 2021 after I joined BAT. Not blaming anything, just that I couldn’t adjust to the new routine, when you’re battling demons on the daily it’s really hard to find the energy to maintain the healthy part of you.
Am I happier? I don’t think happiness is something measurable. I am content, with slight doubt and slight nervousness. I am finding joy in little things.
I caught covid on Aug 2022, it was the worst period of my life, I don’t know how other people could possibly still function when they had covid. But glad that I was vaccinated and boosted.
I am still driving my car, Francesco, my trusty Bezza that has been through 3 accidents, yes three. But not major ones, I am divinely protected.
I feel like this post has no structure at all and it is just me simply recording my life for my future self to read. I own an iPhone 13 Pro that I managed to pay cash for, another grateful thing.
Oh and guess what, I went to Seoul, Korea! It was my first big overseas trip, I’ve only ever been to Indonesia for an overseas trip. Had the best time of my life, and I made a vlog on the trip.
Which brings me to my new year’s resolution, to vlog more and to blog more. I used to blog a lot, two to three times a day. Before blogging, I write in my diaries, I’ve always been recording my life down in whatever form was best at the time, and always love looking back at how I was or still am. I’ve always wrote and talk about life, reflecting on things.
I am still that person and no matter how long i’ve stopped, I know she’s in there, so that’s exactly what I want to get back into.
I have more mediums now at least, I can blog, vlog and write. I have a ton of notebooks I used for my manifestations, so yes I do still write.
This feels so refreshing, I love this so much, it feels so natural to me. I am so glad that I discovered Sissel the Danish vlogger living in Korea, and she recommended Father Bronques’ podcast “Make Art Not Content” and the podcast inspired me so much that I pushed myself to open up my dusty Tumblr and write away.
I’ll be back.
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Hi :) idk if your request are open and if they aren't then it's completely okay to ignore this.
In my head the boys can change into bat's and I and I was thinking of a Marko x reader where the reader finds him injured in his bat form and takes him in and just take care of him and then after like taking care of him the reader is like "I'm going to keep you now :)" but after a few days he leaves and the reader is sad but he comes back and visits in his bat from and then one visit he comes and just changes form infront of the reader.
Sorry if it's too long and it's alright if you aren't taking requests at the moment. I hope you have a good day/night.
I love your writing btw❤️
This was so cute and fun to write, thanks!
Little guy
Marko x Reader
Part 2 here
You weren't really an animal person. Yeah, sure cats and puppies were cute, but you could never imagine having one. Sometimes you were too lazy, your schedule changed from time to time. Dogs needed schedule. Walk in the morning, walk in the evening, feed regularly. And you could sleep half of the day or don't sleep for couple of days. Cats were easier in this way, but still they demanded a lot of attention.
So you thought they were cute, but never really wanted one, thinking of yourself as this lazy person, who would forget to eat themselves, let alone feed someone else. But... Life had other plans for you.
How did you notice him at all - was a huge question. Because in the dark he was almost invisible. Yet, you heard little angry squeaks from some dark alleyway. Now, you should have walk right past that, as Sants-Carla wasn't a place for some altruistic stuff, people disappeared every day. But you just couldn't get the feeling of sudden guilt off of you. So you turned to this path.
- Hey, is somebody here? - the squeaks stopped and you slowed down a bit, carefully walking forward. Something small glistened in the dark. You stepped closer and gasped. - Oh my god! - there was a bat on the trashcan. Big bat, that hissed on you as soon as you swore. You stumbled back, when noticed his tried flying away. Yet his wing...
His wing didn't move. It just slumped near him and obviously caused him a lot of pain. You should have called the animal service, but...
- I'm so gonna regret this! - you mumbled to yourself, taking off your jacket. You were stupid enough to help this bat, but not stupid to take it with bare hands. Animal squealed and yelped, flailing the healthy wing at you. - Hey... HEY! I'M TRYING TO HELP YOU! - strangely, but your scream seemed to help to calm him down. Maybe because the bats oriented based on their hearing and your voice deafened him a bit? If you knew more about bats, you could tell if this was true or not.
You used the opportunity of the bat not moving to grab him with your jacket. He screamed again, but you held him tightly, wrapping in the fabric.
- Little shithead, calm DOWN! - you tied the sleeves together. A tight little bundle was still wriggling in your hands, as two angry dark dots looked at you from the layers of messily wrapped jacket. - I am already regretting it.
But you were stubborn. And if you aimed to help this little thing - you would, even if he didn't want it. You pressed the bundle closer to you and went to your home. The road was hard, as this bat tried and tried to get out, squealing and hissing at you. You were surprised at how much energy this little body held, he was very insistent on getting out. And very strong for that matter.
Once at home you placed him on the couch, while you took your boots off. It was chill outside, so you closed windows, while at it. And so that bat won't try and kill itself by trying to get out. You took the bundle and went to the kitchen. The bat calmed down, but he still was angry, according to the eyes and hisses as soon as your hands went near his face. You put him on the table and looked at him strictly.
- I'm going to unwrap you and look at your wing. If you dare to bite me or flail your wing into my face, I will throw you out, I swear... - you pointed finger at him. The bat bit his fangs at you, and you took finger away. - Do you want to be out when day comes? I heard you bats don't like it, - strangely, it made him stop. For a minute he didn't move. - Alright... You understand me it seems, so we're on the same page.
You thought that was a good sign and started unwrapping him. The bat didn't move through the whole process. You helped him out of jacket, and he stumbled a little on your table. Deciding that he would be good alone for couple minutes (you did check the window just in case), you went to retrieve the first aid kit. When you returned, he sat on your jacket, piling it up like a nest.
- Dude, you are really perceptive for the bat, - you scoffed, sitting near him. You rummaged through the kit, taking out everything you might need for that. When you were ready, you looked at him warily. The bat looked at you back and it seemed like it sighed, turning his wounded wing to you. - You almost understands me, it's scary.
Firstly, you took a bottle of alcohol to desinfect the wound. The bat hissed, but let you do that. He smelled his wing afterwards and when you decided to apply a bit more... Opened his mouth, like wanted you to pour it into him.
- You really are something, dude! - you laughed, gently smacking his head. He hissed at you, but didn't move away from your hands tending to his wounds.
There was a huge gush on his wing, and one of the bones moved too freely. You sighed, looking at him pityfully, but gathered your courage and as quick as possible, you put his wing together and started bandaging it, while holding him strongly. You supposed it was painful, but didn't know any better way. You needed to fix this before moving further.
- Sorry, sorry, sorry... - you mumbled through his squeaks up until his wing was wrapped in bandages. You breathed out and leaned back on a chair, watching as the bat tried to adjust to his new state and move around a bit. - Don't be problematic, it's the best I can do, what I am, a vet? Alright, your wound is next, - he stepped back warily. - Dude, you need get this fixed, I am not having a bat puking all over my place because of infection! - you tried to catch him, but he... - Shit, you little!...
He bit you. This little shit bit you and was smug about it. His squeak was enough of proof of his proudness over himself. You groaned, grabbing some antiseptic and pouring it on his wing. Five minutes and you both were whining from exhaustion and pain, with you slowly putting bandages on your hand, now bitten in three places.
- Happy now? - you breathed out, fidgeting with the sticky side of a bandage. Why did you decide to help this bat in the first place? You should have left him there, life would do its work. You didn't even know what bats eat! Probably not blood, not everything in the books was right. And what if he did eat blood? You had to find him something...
Being completely lost in thoughts, you didn't notice that the bat crawled to you. Only when he licked one of the bites, you shivered, looking at him surprised.
- I won't feed you my blood, dude. As soon as the library opens, I'm there reading about your kind. And probably taking you to Animal control, - he hissed at this, moving to you. You watched him in amusement, as he stamped around on the spot for a bit, readying himself, until finally jumped to your t-shirt, grasping the fabric and climbing up the best he could with one wing. - You are bat, not a monkey, you know, - you smirked at this, until he got to the neck of the t-shirt and tried to climb inside. - Really? I'm not gonna carry you around...
He ignored you, trying to get his way into your clothes. You sighed and just took him in your hand, he already bit you, why fear him? You put him in the pocket of your jeans, going to your bedroom and letting him out there.
- This is where you and me are staying, - you stretched out, watching as he stumbled on the bed, looking around. You went to the windows, closing the curtains and sitting on the bed afterwards. - I'm gonna read some, and you, little dude need to get some rest. And yes, Dude is your name now, - you looked at the bat. He almost purred back. - You are really strange...
You didn't want an animal, yet there was a bat in your house now. He slept in the day, no matter if you were awake or not, but all night he was active. And God forbid you aren't there when he woke up. Half an hour squealing and screaming fit would be the best outcome.
You tried to get him to the vet, but he bit you and fought you and made your decision impossible to perform, so you had to deal with it. You had to find out what they eat, how often e.c. Your new friend refused to drink water, accepted fruits, but was most happy to munch on your hands.
- You can't eat me, Dude, - you took him off of your arm several times for the past hour. - No! I will lock you in a closet for a day, stop it!
He listened. That was what confused you the most. Animals couldn't understand words. Only intonation or atmosphere as a whole. And this bat understood everything or so it seemed. If you were angry - he would try to dissuade the situation. Threaten to leave him alone or get him in the street - he immediately calmed down. That was more than strange. These bikers that suddenly appeared in your neighborhood didn't make you much calmer either.
But you couldn't refuse that it was fun. Dude was chirping, squealing, just grabbing everything he could with his healthy wing. He was making some tricks, grabbing something big for him to carry, grumping with his squeaky voice.
- You know, even if you are pain in the ass and buying meat with blood for you is pricy... - you caressed his head with your finger as you layed in your bed with him on your chest. - I'm glad I found you, Dude. It's lonely sometimes, - you scoffed, hearing him purr and almost hugging you with his wing.
You were very content with him, even if you were grumpy with him sometimes. You got used to him even after just several days.
So when you came back from one of the shopping evenings and didn't find him, you panicked. You didn't lock the window, could he got out? You checked the street under your window, but noone was there. You asked several neighbors, but they thought you were a bit crazy for asking about lost bat. When you returned home, you found the bandages near the glass. He definitely got out.
- Ungrateful shit, - you mumbled to yourself, admitting his escape.
Of course you were sad. He was the one you could talk to in past few days. You didn't have a lot of friends, your family was... Far from you, and love interest... Was non-existant. So to have some animal to talk to was fun idea. Dude was cute, funny and yes, pain in the ass, but still was the one to keep you company, or purr near you when you felt down. You were alone in a chaos of your life again, only getting used to something good in your life for once.
You even checked the local animal store in hopes of finding some dog or cat to replace little black bundle. Now you knew you were capable of taking care of someone other than yourself, so you wanted to find that special someone. Yet... Yet no dog or cat couldn't understand your words or comments and were just... Not it.
- Maybe next time you'll find someone, - said young girl at the cash register. You smiled weakly and shrugged.
- I think not. But thanks anyway, - you went home, once again, slow and not caring about your surroundings. No squeaks from the alley, no noise... You just went home and after you warmed dinner up (dinner being frozen pizza), you suddenly heard a loud thud from your bedroom. You froze and took a knife from the sink. If that was someone who wanted to rob you or kill you, at least you would go down fighting. You slowly and quietly went to the beddroom, opening the door carefully...
- YOU LITTLE SHIT! - there was Dude, halfway through barely opened window. Thud, apparently, came from him crashing into half-closed glass, as was the trace on the glass. - I was sick worried about you and you just... - you groaned at the figure of a bat, frozen in your window and chirping something, and came closer to him, opening the window enough for him to get through. He landed on your shoulder, rubbing his head on your cheek. - Get off me, you, sniveler, I thought you were going to rob me, - you shoo him away and closed the window, putting the knife down as to not to hurt the little man. The bat landed on the bed, looking at you almost thoughtfully. - You need to think better next time, I was worried that you are eaten by cat or blinded by the sun. And now you are safe. Shithead, - you pet his head, sighing, but smiling. Your heart finally was calm at the realisation that he was safe. That you weren't alone once again. - Never do that again. Deal?
You should have been drunk. Yeah, definitely, because there was no explanation for what happened next, as in just a moment the bat transformed into a guy in a black smoke puff. Blonde cute, hot guy, in leather bright jacket, and with a wicked grin. And your hand was still on his hair.
- Deal, cutieface, - he winked at you. Oh hell, what did you get yourself into?
The Lost Boys Taglist: @minafromasgard @starmullet @iloveslasher @twistedharper @ichorixm @promptsforstuff @collieflower215
#tlb#thelostboys#thelostboys1987#tlb1987#marko tlb#tlb marko#the lost boys marko#marko x reader#the lost boys imagine#tlb imagine#reader insert#x reader#gender neutral
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